Nobody seems to be particularly surprised at the slap.

The pirate captain is obviously not amused by Jack's proposal. Still, she doesn't turn away and he tempts her with his silver tongue until she smiles. Then there is rum and songs and general merriment.

James Norrington stands apart, observing quietly. Then he leaves.

He walks quietly through the ramshackle corridors of the maze known as Shipwreck Cove. As he passes, men step aside to clear his path, making signs to ward off the evil eye behind his back.

The room is small, the bed barely large enough for the two who have shared it these last nights. He picks up a blanket and turns to leave.

"And where exactly d'ye think you're going?

"It appeared as if you would greatly appreciate not coming back to find the bed already occupied, Captain."

"You know, mate, you're lucky Anamaria's not around to hear you, or I wouldn't be the one getting slapped for a change."

"Still, I have imposed upon your hospitality long enough, Captain. I should leave."

"And go where, James?"

"I imagine I can bed down in your dinghy."

"So, you'd rather sleep in a leaky dinghy than share a bed with ol' Jack, then?"

"Well, no, but surely you would prefer not having to share a bed with a disgraced naval officer."

"For such a clever man, James, sometimes you can be bloody slow."

Jack kisses him. He blinks.

"Oh."

"Aye, oh."

"Then..."

"Aye, then."

He kisses Jack. Soon they end up on the bed. Afterwards they lie quietly, Jack idly tracing complicated patterns on James' chest.

"I have no place here."

"Meaning what, exactly? This ol' pirate not good enough for you?"

"Jack, no. That's not what I meant, of course it isn't."

"Then what did you mean."

"I don't fit in here."

"'Course you do, luv. Fit just fine a moment ago."

"Jack, be serious."

"I'm always serious, mate, seriously."

"Jack, please."

"If you insist, luv."

"I am alive. I was dead and I am alive—and for near on three weeks I have done nothing. I have no purpose here."

"Sure you do. Supposed to be helping me get my Pearl back, remember?"

"One of the many things I haven't done."

"But now we have a ship."

"We do?"

"Anamaria."

"She seemed rather attached to her ship."

"Aye, well, when I said we have a ship, what I meant was that, in actual fact, which is to say..."

"It comes complete with a captain?"

"Just as well, really. Wouldn't be wanting my Pearl to be getting all jealous of me running around with other ships, savvy?"

"And I suppose I would not be sufficient reason for said lady's jealousy?"

"'Course not. Impressive yardarm notwithstanding, you're no ship, luv. You are a very. Fine. Man."

"Oh."

And for a while there is—not silence.

And then there is.

"Can hear you thinking. Stop it."

"I don't think your father likes me."

"Don't be daft. He likes you just fine."

"I have holes in my hat that beg to differ."

"I hate to be telling you this, mate, but if he didn't like you, the holes wouldn't be in your hat. Now will you stop thinking and go to sleep."

"Very well, my Captain."

***

Nobody seems to be particularly surprised at the slap.

The pirate captain stands proudly, oriental finery stretched taut over her swollen belly, as she gives Jack several pieces of her mind. Yet Jack is undaunted, weathering this storm, then offering her a stack of paper covered in less than elegant handwriting.

James stands apart, observing quietly with a fond smile on his lips. As the crowd passes him on their way to the great hall for their second feast in as many weeks, Jack reaches out and drags him along.

"So, now you have two ships."

"Aye, and as many captains. The makings of my very own fleet, as it were. Mind you, it still seems to be missing a certain something."

"And what might that be, Captain Sparrow?"

"Can't you guess, Commodore?"

Read Post-AWE 3: The Frog Prince