"Fancy that," he muttered to himself. Then, louder, over the side of the boat to the girl on the dock, "I can see that, love."
He hummed, considering his options. He could toss Elizabeth the same rope he'd offered Hannibal and have her come up onto the Pearl, or he could go down to her. He thought about this. Elizabeth had tried to kill him.
While he did not blame her, that did not make him want to invite her aboard his ship. Not in the least.
Jack hopped up onto the railing and then slid down the rope, landing a few feet from a very traumatized looking Elizabeth Swann. Dark strands of hair fell across his face and he landed, much the same as he had before Hannibal, with a slight thud.
"No," he said. "Not the locker, unless I'm a great deal crazier than previously assumed. You're in the City." He smirked. "Kind of like that little stretch of desert island, only less sand and more... shifting about haphazardly."
He held up one index finger. "And no sea turtles."