The situation was unlikely to become any more humiliating.

The H.M.S. Triton had been sailing along the coast of Spain when she had gotten a French merchant vessel within her range.

Captain Harris had seemed pleased at first; the Triton's seventy-four guns clearly outweighed the Antoinette's twelve and after weeks without a French ship in sight, she had come like divine intervention. However, the prize hadn't proven to be as easy as one would expect: even though overpowered, she had stubbornly kept showing her French colours.

When she had surrendered at last and a prize crew had been appointed, the midshipmen in command, James Norrington and Theodore Groves, hadn't yet realized they were boarding a crippled ship. The Antoinette's mast had been damaged from the Triton's last round shot and after two days, it had been tilting dangerously in the strong wind, shifting the weight of the ship so that the Antoinette's lee railing had soon breached the water surface. It had been impossible to hold her any longer, and already then, James had cursed himself for failing his orders. A prize ship on the bottom of the ocean was of no use to the Admiralty.

James had been dissatisfied with his conduct more than once during his four years at sea. He was ambitious and highly self-critical. At the age of eighteen, he had set foot on the Triton and joined the ship's mids, who were much older than he was and probably wouldn't make it past lieutenant. There had been an undercurrent of competition from the beginning, experience against youth, stimulating his ambition.

Lucky for James, there there had also been one midshipman amongst the crowd who wasn't like the others; and this one, three years younger than James but lively and quick-witted, had soon become his closest companion aboard and had stayed in James' highest regard ever since. They had been there for each other in difficult times and were bound by mutual trust, sworn allegiance so strong that only few other companionships aboard could compete with it.

On the damaged Antoinette, James Norrington had needed his friend the most. His first command, his chance to prove himself fit for the service, had been destined to sink—a failure of great impact for a perfectionistic young man. But Theodore Groves had tirelessly supported him, helped him sharing the burden of the loss and lend him strength to abandon his self-reproach. Theodore had managed to snap James back to reality without difficulty.

Finally, the two midshipmen had ordered two jollyboats to be prepared and supplies to be secured, and just before the ship had sunk into the depths of the Atlantic Ocean, they had abandoned her safely with every member of the enemy's and their own crew.

The cargo had been lost, but at least they had had French prisoners to account for. Or would have had—if their voyage to Plymouth Sound hadn't been disturbed by the appearance of an all black pirate ship and ended in a dirty, stinking brig.

Theodore and James were sharing a cell, since the pirate crew had well learned to separate officers from the crew, but the two midshipmen were hardly in the mood to be grateful for that. Now they had failed completely and they didn't want to think of what would await them if they ever returned to the Triton. James doubted Captain Harris would want them back. Unless...

Unless they could free themselves, their crew and their prisoners, take over the ship and offer the Admiralty a pirate instead of a French merchant.

James and Theodore exchanged looks. Apparently, they were both thinking the same thing.

They didn't have much time to work out a plan, though, for suddenly, the trapdoor to the brig opened and two dirty feet on even dirtier legs made their way down the rusty ladder, keys clanging against the metal. Not much later, a bearded pirate with a nasty scar across his face stopped in front of James' and Theodore's cell and opened it.

"Cap'n requests ye join 'im for dinner," he slurred—hardly a request, but the two midshipman decided not to split hairs but to follow him quietly up on deck.

The pirate ship's captain was already seated in his cabin, at a table full of the finest food. For an instant, James thought of his poor companions on the Triton—Beddoes and Wainwright would have given their souls for something different from ship's biscuits and salted beef. However, James' stomach clenched at the sight and he knew he wouldn't be able to eat much of those undoubtedly stolen goods. Groves, on the other hand, seemed to think differently about it. In no more than a blink of an eye, he sat at the table next to the surprisingly young captain and gave James a rather pleading look, urging him to finally sit down. James sighed and obeyed. Whatever Theo's plan was, it had better be good.

The captain, a fellow of surely no more than twenty-four years with long, tousled black hair, rather high cheekbones that gave him a feminine look despite the goatee, a red headscarf and a strange black ring on his right forefinger, waited silently until James was seated. Then, with a curious wave of his hands, he introduced himself.

"Gents, me name's Captain Jack Sparrow. Delighted to have you aboard. I trust you find your quarters suitable?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Of course you do. Now please, help yourself to food and drink before it gets cold. Or lukewarm, for that matter." He raised his glass and took a deep swig, then pulled a grimace. "Nothin' worse than lukewarm wine, if you ask me."

James had no idea what to make of this highly eccentric and equally hilarious pirate. It was ridiculous, really, to be a captain of a ship—a pirate ship—at that age; for he couldn't be more than five years older than James himself. And the way he acted, the flamboyance of a great bucaneer after his time—no, it simply didn't look right. The lad had to be insane.

Frowning, he looked to Theodore, only to find his friend staring at the captain in what seemed honest awe. If he had had a plan of escape at all, it was apparently all gone now. James discreetly rammed his elbow into Theodore's hip at which the younger midshipman started, a slight flush on his face as his eyes met James'. Damn it, Theo, we're no little boys! And even though he doesn't look like it, he is a real pirate! It was of no use. Theodore wouldn't listen to what he tried to convey via telepathy, if it was getting through at all.

James sighed. The food smelled entirely too good and he would be a fool to want to win the ship with an empty stomach. So finally, he helped himself to a piece of roast chicken and fresh vegetables while Theodore was already chewing on some sort of seafood pie; without tearing his eyes off Jack Sparrow, of course.

If the captain had noticed any of their exchanged glances, he ignored them entirely. Instead, he started babbling about cursed treasures to dig out, unknown spits of land to discover and distant countries to sail to. Every time James tried to lead the monologue towards their capture and Captain Sparrow's plans with regard to them, the pirate waved his hands nonchalantly and slurred, "Patience, lad! One thing at a time! Wouldn' want to spoil our good dinner, would we," and with the same breath, he continued spinning his tale.

James quietly finished his plate, trying not to pay too much attention to Sparrow's ramblings, whereas Theodore seemed more taken with him by the minute. And the ridiculous pirate couldn't be bothered to even try to hide his amusement.

When they had finished, Sparrow opened a bottle of rum and offered it first to James, who shook his head. He would not risk his clear mind, not now. At Sparrow's quite convincing glare, however, he nodded, sighed, and took the bottle. The rum burnt down his throat and he was almost choking, coughing pitifully, before he wiped the tears from his eyes and handed the bottle over to Theodore. No comparison at all to the spirit rations on the Triton. What he had just been drinking had to be pure rum, and a good one at that. Fearing his voice to be hoarse, he just kept quiet and tried to ignore the grin that was plastered all over Sparrow's face.

Theodore seemed to swallow the rum without any bigger problems. Wherever he had learned that was completely beyond James, but he accepted it for now. He already had enough to think about. If Theo just weren't so bloody smitten with—

Immediately, James stopped his thought. Theo couldn't possibly be like that. Not his friend. And not at that age! It had to be a boy's fascination with pirates, nothing more, surely.

"Can I seduce you to some dessert?" The pirate's deep voice pulled James out of his rather confusing thoughts.

And then, James witnessed the most shocking scene ever. Theodore stood up, walked over to the pirate, looked him in the eye and said, "I'd fancy a different sort of seduction, captain. What about you?"

James stared. He was completely taken aback. And even more so when his friend, Theodore Groves, plunged his hand into Sparrow's mane, pulled him close and kissed him on the mouth. Careless, carefree, as if there was nobody watching. As if he, James, had suddenly stopped existing.

When he pulled back, leaving the young pirate almost as breathless as he was himself, Theodore had a grin on his face, so wicked that James was certain he was imagining things. He wanted to get up, to leave, but he couldn't move. And he couldn't tear his eyes from the spectacle, alarming though it was.

"If that's what they teach you boys in the Navy, I wonder if your fellow officer could give me a demonstration of his studies as well," Jack suddenly said, giving James the most mischievous of looks. James froze. Damn you, Theo, he thought, for pulling me into this. But cursing Theodore didn't help. The odds were clearly on Sparrow's side. There was no use in challenging him now.

Slowly, he stood up and walked towards the chair in which the pirate captain was sitting. He couldn't help glaring openly at Theodore, but his friend either didn't see it or he didn't care. When he had almost arrived, Jack got up as well and took some steps forward, meeting James, who was apparently too slow. Suddenly, Jack was standing right in front of him—and it was disturbing to think of him as Jack all of a sudden, as they were not exactly on friendly terms, but James had no time to contemplate that. The pirate didn't seem inclined to wait any longer. He cupped James' face with his hand, almost too softly, before he pulled him close and their lips met in an open-mouthed kiss.

It didn't even feel too bad, Norrington realized with not a small amount of shock. Damn him, he was not supposed to enjoy this. Not with a man! And there was no use in denying the pirate captain's sex, for his goatee tickled James' chin and the touch of his hands on James' body were too sure to be a woman's. For all he was worth, he should push Jack away, but he couldn't. What in God's name was wrong with him? Why was he not appalled? When he felt Jack's tongue against his, he couldn't help growing hard in his breeches, and for that, he loathed himself even more.

Suddenly, Jack broke the kiss and grinned at James, who stood there, face flushed, feeling more ashamed than ever in his life. He couldn't stand one more minute in that room. And quicker than he'd ever run, he rushed out of the cabin, slammed the doors and hoped nobody was on deck. He needed privacy. He needed to think.

***

Theodore had sensed James' outburst even before it had happened. Just as the heavy oak doors closed behind his friend, he pushed Jack away and followed James on deck. He found him not much later, sitting on an empty barrel, his head in his hands. Was he crying?

Theodore thought his heart would burst at the sight. He hadn't wanted to make James feel bad. "I'm sorry, James," he whispered, stretching out an arm to caress James' brown hair, "but I figured it would get us out of here."

James looked up and stared at him. His eyes were dry, so he hadn't been crying, but he wasn't looking too happy either. "You wanted to sacrifice—"

Theodore interrupted him. "It is no sacrifice. He is attractive. And he intrigues me." To prevent James from making a comment, Theodore went on, "You think it's unnatural, of course, but I can only tell you that I was born like this and I have to accept it. I just hope it doesn't change anything between us."

James shook his head, the blush crawling over his face again. He murmured something, but Theodore didn't understand.

"What?"

"I enjoyed it," James said, a bit louder than before. "I bloody liked what he was doing." He sighed. "Seems we're in the same boat once again, Theo."

This time, it was Theodore's turn to stare. "You did? Then why did you—" Hastily, he interrupted himself. "Of course. It takes some time—but best be glad you found it out now, and not in your wedding bed, right?" He winked. "Now, let's get back in. I'm sure our captain," he stressed the word with a mocking wink, "is feeling quite deprived of our company."

James couldn't help smiling at that. "We shall," he said and got up. Whatever the night would hold in store for him, the most difficult part of it had been overcome.

***

"Ah," said Jack cheerfully when the two midshipmen re-entered his cabin. "Almost thought you'd gone lost. Couldn't have that, you know. Was of a mind to send me first mate after you, but there you are." He waved his hands. "Please, take a seat, make yourselves at home."

James studied Jack for a while without moving from the door. Theodore was right. There was something about him, something very intriguing. Despite his ridiculousness, the pirate was fascinating in a way. And with the long black hair, the kohl-framed eyes, the white shirt clinging to his lithe body and showing quite a bit of his tanned chest, he was indeed attractive, to say the least. James licked his lips before he realized he was doing so, and the smile Theodore threw in his direction when he saw his reaction was not lost on him.

It was a strange feeling really, to have been so miserable only minutes ago and to be so relieved and rather optimistic now. And he had every reason to be glad, despite having lost the prize ship and her crew, despite being a pirate's prisoner. He was lucky to have found out his weakness here, where no Articles could touch him; for he didn't expect for a second that Jack Sparrow paid Naval regulations much attention. And he was relieved that Theodore was with him, his closest friend and his soulmate in more than one sense.

This did not mean he was comfortable with the fact that what he wanted to do was wrong and unnatural and forbidden. He would hide it, if there was a tomorrow. At the moment, however, there was only today, and he would be daft not to take advantage of the opportunity to experiment with things he might not get a second chance to. He went to the table and took another swig of Dutch courage—or Caribbean courage, as it were.

The rum didn't burn that much this time, and a very strange but comfortable warmth spread in his belly. "Let's resume our demonstration, shall we?" James whispered to Theodore before he pulled him close and kissed him. He was surprised by his courage of taking the initiative, but his thoughts quickly travelled elsewhere. Theodore knew too well how to kiss, and soon James was breathless, his heart was pounding and he pulled back, gasping for air. He had never thought about how it would be to kiss Theodore, but he knew now that no fantasy could possibly have come close to this. It had been a wonderful, very intimate moment, and for a second, he felt as if their thoughts were mingling, becoming one. He didn't know what to make of that, so he cast the notion aside, saved it for later.

Jack was still sitting in his chair when they became fully aware of his presence again, but seemed to be shifting uncomfortably. "Now there was a sight, if I ever saw one," he murmured, tugging at his trousers. James grinned at that, amused by the fact that the pirate captain could enjoy himself even when not directly involved. He had to be a hedonist, finding pleasure wherever he looked for it. Well, James couldn't really hold that against him, not when he was looking for his own pleasure where he wasn't supposed to.

He shared another quick smile with Theodore, and then, the two midshipmen were slowly approaching their host, totally disinclined to hide their interest from their faces. Not much later, they were on him, pulling him from his chair and onto the soft rug on the floor.

"Now there, lads—" Jack wanted to protest, pretending shock at being manhandled like that, but James and Theodore ignored that entirely. While James silenced the writhing pirate with another kiss, and a full-hearted and more effective one this time, Theodore started to unbutton his trousers. All of a sudden, he felt Jack moan against his tongue, which gave him shivers down his spine and the desperate need to feel bare skin. Breathing hard, he pulled Jack up with one hand and lifted the shirt with the other, enjoying the hot, sun-soaked skin under his fingers. It felt too good, really, no wonder it was forbidden. James smiled, finally letting go of Jack's lips as he greedily sucked fresh air into his lungs and pulled Jack's shirt over his head. The sight amazed him. Apparently, Jack was tanned all over, and James was wondering for a minute how he had managed that, but there were other things that caught his attention: tattoos with the most fascinating motifs, and scars whose origin had to be even more fascinating. For a man of his age, Jack had certainly seen more of the world than James and Theodore together.

"What do you want?" Theodore's voice, so unfamiliarly deep and rich, pulled him out of his contemplation of the fine body sprawled on the rug before them.

"Oh, come now. You bloody well know what I want," panted Jack, wriggling impatiently, probably hoping someone with enough common sense would finally grant him mercy.

"Say it," Thedore insisted, slowly moving his fingers over Jack's abdomen but away from where it felt really good. James was baffled to see that a boy of seventeen years could be such a sexual tease and he wondered where he had learned that.

"Bloody hell, mate," Jack gasped, incredulous, "you don't really want me to lecture 'bout that now, do you? 'T doesn't happen every day that I get a voluptuous midshipman of His Bloody Majesty's Navy in me cabin, let alone two! Now please, get on with it, dam' you!"

James had a hard time to suppress a laugh, but he pulled himself together and said, in a voice that astonished him for being so throaty, "We'll do what you want. Everything. You just have to say it." And he followed Theodore's lead, letting his fingers crawl enticingly over Jack's bare chest, tracing the little droplets of sweat and almost accidentally brushing over his nipples.

Jack moaned and suddenly stopped struggling. "Fine," he said, almost breathless. "A deal. You'll stop your bloody teasin' an' finally get me off an' I'll get you off the ship as soon as we reach the coast!"

"Us two and our prisoners, I trust?" Theodore said.

"Aye, bloody 'ell!"

"And our boats?" inquired James.

"Boats? What boats?" Apparently, Jack hadn't expected another question.

"The boats in which you captured us," clarified Theodore. "We would need them to row ashore. Unless you want to lend us your own jollyboats, of course, but that would mean we couldn't pretend to never have seen you and—"

Jack interrupted him. "Ah, damn you, you'll get your fuckin' boats!"

At that, Theodore snorted. "Language, if you please," he teased.

"Very right," James admitted in a formal tone that was only betrayed by his amused chuckle, "Mr.—Sparrow, was it? You are enjoying the company of two of King George's most promising young officers. I must remind you to watch your tongue."

"At least as long as you still can," Theodore added, a mischievous grin on his face.

Jack's eyes went wide at that, but he didn't say any more. And not much later, he was too incoherent to do so in any case, having James' mouth on his and Theodore's mouth on his cock, and two pairs of hands all over him.

James was growing very aroused at the sight of Jack writhing against Theodore's mouth and at the sweet sounds that were escaping him, breathed into his own mouth. He was certain he would burst soon, but he couldn't stop kissing Jack. The pirate tasted entirely too good; rum, exotic fruit and seafood pie mingling in his mouth to a curious but strangely fascinating taste. One could get addicted to those lips, James was sure, and he was well on his way.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. Whatever was the matter now? A little disappointed, James abandoned his task, trying not to melt at the desperate pleading look Jack gave him as he pulled back and turned his head.

Theodore was already speaking. "Tell me, James, what do you want? Since our Mr. Sparrow here can't phrase his request in plain English..."

Oh God. That grin was the most devilish he'd ever seen on his friend, and James soon realized with no little surprise that it matched his own. But he couldn't stop, and neither Theodore nor Jack did anything to change that. How the hell was he supposed to think?

"Theo... I—" He trailed off. Somehow he felt indebted to Theo and he wanted the decision to be his. "Theo, I can't say I'm so experienced..."

Theodore wanted to answer, but was cut off by a very impatient pirate. "Bloody hell, why's that takin' so long? Can't you make up your dam' minds? You there, luv," he pointed at James, "if ye've never done tha' before, ye'd better do wha' I say, savvy?"

James shook his head. "No, it doesn't work like that." And to Jack's disappointed look, he added, "You'll get what you want, don't worry."

That seemed to satisfy Jack, at least for the moment.

Theodore stood up, pulled James to his feet as well and said, "In any case, we're horribly overdressed, wouldn't you agree," before he kissed him again and started pulling up his shirt. James couldn't see Jack from where he was standing, but he was more than certain the pirate was enjoying the sight immensely. But who was he to complain? Theodore's mouth on his was heaven and the hands tugging at his shirt and brushing his skin kept him too occupied to think about the pirate. Especially when he was expected to return the favour and undress Theodore; nothing he had to be asked for twice, of course. His hands were trembling a bit as they touched Theodore's waist to pull the shirt free, but he had done this before, had seen his friend naked before—albeit in slightly different circumstances—and he soon lost his nervousness, which was more than helpful when he arrived at unbuttoning his shirt. He was eager now to feel bare skin, and so, when the last button decided to stand against him, he simply ripped it off in his excitement. Theodore's chest fell against his, his arms went around him and his tongue was brushing James' ear, slowly, lazily—James thought he would die that very instant.

Suddenly, he heard his friend whisper, "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. You won't be receiving, don't worry. I can imagine it takes time, patience and care and I doubt anyone of us could give you that tonight. We could get each other off with our mouths and hands, I'm sure that Jack wouldn't mind that. If he has ever done it any other way..." And with that, he kept licking his neck and his ear, as if he had said nothing at all.

James considered that for a while, before he asked, "Have you?"

"Well—almost. But since we're here, out of the Navy, away from the Articles, away from suspicious eyes... It would be no risk. We could accept the chance and consider ourselves fortunate—at least that's what I think." He paused, trailing a line from James' ear to his collarbone and back up with his tongue. "You can have me, if you want. It's your choice."

James closed his eyes and threw his head back to allow Theodore a better access to where being kissed like that felt so amazingly good, and wondered how he was supposed to make a decision like that, let alone think about what Theodore had just said. When James fully realized how much Theodore trusted him and what he had just offered him, his heart leapt, pumping more blood down to his cock until it was begging to be freed from its prison. The offer aroused him so painfully—until he became aware of the fact that there was more to it. Breathing hard, he moved his lips to Theodore's ear.

"Theo, are you really sure? I don't want to hurt you..." As he had said before, he had no experience at all. Theodore had been considerate, putting him on the giving end, not the receiving one, but he wouldn't feel comfortable doing anything to his friend that would cause him pain.

Theodore looked at him then with his deep dark eyes, smiling as he cupped his cheek with his hands and replied, softly, honestly, "You won't. Don't worry about that. But as I said, we could give it more time. I'm sure we'll have plenty of it when on shore leave and alone." He winked. "You'll take care of our captain then?"

James wasn't sure. "And what of you?"

"Oh, just leave that to me." Theodore grinned. "I'm sure I can think of something."

***

When they had finally rid each other of all their clothing and returned their attention to the pirate, Jack Sparrow grinned, clapped his hands in delight and cheered, "Ah, I see we're gettin' somewhere. Maybe you want to check out tha' first drawer from th' top in the cupboard over there, eh? Saves us a lot of trouble an' me a sore arse." He grinned at James. "Not that I don' like it rough, as it were."

James got up to fetch whatever Jack kept there and returned with a small vial of brown glass. So Jack had done this before. The better, all things considered. He put the vial on the floor next to where Jack was lying and looked at Theo. He was nervous, no doubt about that. Naturally, he wouldn't have thought to get his first experience like this, and here of all places, and he cherished Theo for doing his best to make it as easy as possible for him. He didn't know how he could ever thank his friend for that, but he was certain he would think of something, once they had solid English soil under their feet again—or the wooden planks of the Triton or another ship.

Theodore took the vial from where James had put it and opened it, pouring some generous amount of scented oil—lavender, as it seemed—onto his hand. Some of it dropped on Jack's stomach, but apart from a little flinch at the cool droplets against his heated skin, Jack didn't move. Theodore turned to James, crashed their lips together for a third time and started to spread the cool oil on his considerable erection with slow strokes. James groaned and almost expected his knees to give way. "Stop, Theo, please, I need—" Some solid ground under my knees, he wanted to finish, but the words stuck in his throat, washed over by heavy breathing.

"Oh, of course," Theo said, grinning mischievously. "My mistake." He let go of James slowly and waited until his friend had positioned himself between the pirate's legs. James was no fool and it didn't take him long to figure that if he lifted Jack's legs, the access would be much better, so he did it, and a second later, the head of his cock brushed past the ring of Jack's puckered opening.

Ohgodthatfeelssobloodyfucking— James would have shouted that out while entering Jack if he hadn't held his breath in order to pull himself together and keep it slow, and as soon as he was all the way in, his breath came out as a moan of the final word he had been thinking. It sounded more like "guh" rather than "good", though.

"Dam'," Jack cursed, "ye've got a bloody harpoon there!" But the grin he flashed James betrayed his words. James was positively surprised and returned a smile, glad that he hadn't done any greater damage. He liked Jack, that was for sure, and even though he didn't really see him as a friend, he respected him, as far as respect went with a pirate, and didn't want to hurt him.

"Let's see about yours, then," said Theodore to Jack, while James was still smiling and enjoying the tight heat of Jack's arse, the feeling of being completely sheathed.

Theodore knelt down over Jack's chest, placing a quick kiss on the pirate's open mouth before he turned around. "James?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please—" He handed his friend the vial again and looked down.

James understood. "Of course." He lifted Jack's hips to crouch under him and still keep his cock inside him. Then he lowered his legs and took the vial. Jack's hip was resting not too heavily on his thighs and when he put some oil on his hands before he smeared them over Jack's cock in front of him, endeavouring to repeat the exact motions of Theodore's hand when he had prepared him, the writhing of Jack's hips at the touch made his cock twitch. They moaned in unison and it was getting harder and harder for James to stay calm and wait until Theodore was settled.

When he let go Jack's slick cock, Theodore immediately took it in hand, held it steady and lowered himself onto it, his back resting against James' front.

"Oh bloody fuckin'—aaah!" Jack cried out; they were his last coherent words before James started moving.

His thrusts were light at first, pulling all the way out before pressing in again, his arms around Theodore's chest. It felt as if he was fucking them both at once, for his groin slapped against Theodore's backside so wonderfully with every move he made.

Jack had closed his eyes and was breathing hoarsely through his open mouth, and Theodore turned his head, smiling at James before he crushed their mouths together. The position was awkward and James was afraid Theodore would get a stiff neck soon, but it felt too good to stop. He held Theodore close while he was pounding into Jack, quicker and quicker, and with every thrust, Theodore moaned against his mouth, so sweetly, pushing James closer to complete oblivion.

Jack was the first to surrender and he came with a sharp, inarticulate cry, bucking his hips and squeezing James' cock as he shot into Theodore. The unexpected stimulation pulled James with him and he came, clutching Theodore while he sank his teeth into the nape of his neck, biting down hard with the strong wave of his orgasm. His friend would tell him later that his bite had pushed him over the edge, but right now, he was entirely unaware of anything going on around him. His heart was beating heavily in his ears and his breath was ragged, hoarse, while he was greedily gasping for air. When he came to his senses again, he realized he was still holding on to Theodore and he quickly let him go, an embarrassed flush crawling over his face. When exactly had he started losing himself like that?

He pulled out of Jack and tried to get up, but his legs were numb and all he did was sprawl over the carpet, an arm on Jack's stomach, the other next to his face.

***

They must have gotten up some time during the night, though, and walked the few steps to Jack Sparrow's huge bed, because when he woke up in the morning, he found himself in the middle of a tangle of tanned and pristine white limbs, sprawled on the blue sheets and blankets like a piece of art. He was much too tired to find out which legs and arms were actually his and for another half hour, he appreciated the sound of Jack's and Theodore's steady breathing and their warm bodies against his.

***

At noon, under the burning midday sun, two jollyboats were launched from the Black Pearl.

Theodore and James, freshly bathed and properly dressed in their midshipman's uniforms, stood on deck of the pirate ship, watching their crew and their prisoners being released from the brig. Captain Jack Sparrow had refused the bath, not because he wasn't dirty, but out of principle—at least that was what he said. James knew by now that it was better not to try to understand the pirate, he was too unpredictable. And the notion was enforced when Jack Sparrow appeared on deck, walking a bit strangely but appearing otherwise cheerful and in good spirits. Concerning the latter, it would not surprise James in the least if Jack had even had rum for breakfast. In any case, Jack could not claim that the night before hadn't happened or that he didn't remember it, and James almost smirked at that, but he caught himself in time. After all, he had just survived a morning of heavy discussions and finally reached an accord just an hour ago. They had discussed, that was true, but certainly not in order to reach an accord, merely to decide what James and Theodore were to tell their crew and Captain Harris. "Violation of Article 29" was out of the question, as James had remarked with a grin, enjoying his cheerfulness as long as he still could.

In the end, they had written the following report:

To the Admiralty, Plymouth, England

28 July 1668, off shore Plymouth

Dear Sirs,

On the twenty-fifth this month, we had the Fortune to be given Command of the Antoinette, a French Prize Vessel bound for Bordeaux, carrying a hundred tons of Molasses. However, the Ship had been Crippled during the Encounter with H.M.S. Triton in Lat 46 N & 6 W and soon sunk to the Bottom of the Ocean in Lat 49 N & 7 W, which resulted in a Complete Loss of the Cargo. We are glad to report, however, that we were able to Save the Antoinette's crew as Prisoners for the King.

We have Honour to remain, Your ever Humble Servants

James Norrington and Theodore Groves Midshipmen HMS Triton

A cloud of voices, shouts and chatter, hung over the deck of the Pearl as the pirates prepared to drop anchor and the seamen in the service of the King gathered around the Antoinette's boats tied to the railing, and it was almost impossible to understand one's own word when suddenly, the noise was broken by a roar from the quarterdeck. Captain Jack Sparrow's.

"Gents! A word, if you please. Me thanks." James was surprised—he would have never expected Jack to be able to shout like that—and also the Triton's crew was all eyes and ears, staring at the flamboyant young pirate and following him pacing while he continued shouting. "Your chiefs 'ere an' I have an accord. O'course, I don't agree to nothin' tha' gives me no profit. But it's 'bout ol' enemies an' their names an' the possibility tha' your Navy might get them 'fore they get me an' me ship. Trust me, you wouldn't be interested in it if it weren't for me standin' 'ere an' tellin' you. The thing that concerns you is that you're all going free—well, except for you Frogs, but you don't understand a word I'm sayin' anyway. So there. In any case, the lads have written a nice report, an' I can't appear in it, o' course, so all you gents have to do when you reach tha' nice shore over there is to forget you ever were 'ere on this ship. Best forget th' existence of me an' me ship entirely—I know it's hard, for a very fine ship she is, but we're not going to stay in those waters any longer, anyway." He made a face. "Bloody cold at times, an' the booty isn't what it used to be. Should tell the dam' Admiralty that they should leave some loot t' me an' not plunder all for themselves." He cleared his throat. "Where was I? Ah—right. You'll go free an' you'll take your Frog prisoners with you, for I have no use for them. An' to show you my gratitude for having stayed on me ship, I'll give you somethin' to stick between your teeth and somethin' for your spirits so tha' the rowin' won't be too boring. For I know bloody well how boring rowin' can be. There was one time, in Italy, when I was rowin' down the canals—" He interrupted himself. "But I'm takin' your precious time an' have so little of it meself. Cheers, gents. An' remember: You've never seen me an' me ship before. Tha's all. Ta." And with this, he rushed back into his cabin and closed the doors behind him.

James frowned. Whyever had Jack been in such a hurry all of a sudden? He couldn't be reluctant to say his farewell, or could he? James shook his head. What an eccentric and entirely strange man! But he smiled despite himself before he started to give orders to gather the supplies, man the boats and leave the ship.

The men were murmuring, exchanging frowns and quick glances. Of course they were. It wasn't every day that they were released from the brig of a pirate ship without any bloodshed and their officers unharmed. But Captain Sparrow's offer had been generous, good food and plenty of rum, so James hoped that they wouldn't dwell on the circumstances of their release for much longer. He was glad that Jack had been so cooperative. The lad was an amiable fellow indeed, apart from the fact that he was a pirate and the enemy and they had fraternized with him to a much greater extent than they were even allowed. But if it ever came to a court-martial, it would be their word against the word of a pirate and the Admiralty knew very well what a pirate's word was worth. In any case, James thought Jack Sparrow intelligent enough not to hand himself over to the side of the law as foolishly like that. There was little he could acquire by blackmailing him, after all.

James shook his head to get the unwanted thoughts out. It was true that he felt a bit guilty, having given in to his carnal desire like that and violated the Articles of War—or particularly one of them—and with a pirate nonetheless, but he would have enough time to contemplate that back in the midship's section of the Triton.

***

Not much later, they were rowing towards Plymouth harbour and James put his hands into the pockets of his coat, enjoying the fresh breeze in his face. Which was when he found the little pearl, pitch black and smooth, glittering in the sunshine. All of a sudden, he realized that what Jack had spoken to his crew didn't apply to him. He wasn't to forget Jack Sparrow—and neither was Theodore, as James should find out later. But seriously—how could they?

--- Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate,
As they voyage along through life;
'Tis the will of the soul
That decides its goal,
And not the calm or the strife. ---