As he stood at the altar about to affirm before family and friends his love for Elizabeth Turner, James Norrington was buffeted by the sensation that this marriage was wrong. The feelings had plagued him, eaten at him for weeks. He was not accustomed to indecision and it upset his equilibrium. He loved Elizabeth... he was fond of her. He thought he could make this marriage work, but could she? Did either of them want to? Were they doing this because it was expected of them? A glance at her beautiful veiled face told him everything. Right then she glanced sideways, and started to look away but was caught by his stare. Lifting her head, she straightened her shoulders and spine, bravely meeting his look. They stood locked in a moment of time, silently communicating what should have been spoken aloud months ago.

The congregation shifted nervously, as if those in the hall were subliminally aware that something had changed. The priest stopped speaking, not yet having reached their vows. In the quiet he cleared his throat but made no other sound.

Then James lifted Elizabeth's hand and bowed over it. His lips brushed over her soft skin, barely touching it. When he looked up she smiled sweetly in gratitude and he returned it. He suddenly had much to be grateful for, too. Elizabeth gathered her skirts and train, and stepped with dignity towards the side door. He saw her look towards the back of the hall where Will Turner lingered in a cloud of misery. As Will began walking in her direction, perhaps not even cognizant that he was doing so, his pace increased until he was running. She waited for him with hands outstretched, which he caught up in a tight grip, touching his brow to hers. They both turned to James, receiving his slight nod before they disappeared through the doorway. Governor Swann, no doubt caught by surprise by the rapid turn of events, belatedly shot to his feet and hurried after them, followed by Elizabeth's bridesmaids.

By then the murmurings from the crowd were becoming more distinct. James heard comments, some not very flattering, directed towards both him and Elizabeth. He ignored them all, just as he shook off the concern from his men who were now surrounding him. He sought out Theo and Andrew on the periphery. Neither of them could know for certain what was going through his mind, because some things he kept even from his best friends, but both hung back because they knew him. At least Theo did, and he now restrained the more impulsive Andrew with a hand on his arm.

Uttering quick apologies to everyone and no one in particular—the only one he needed to apologize to was not here—James turned and strode down the aisle, alone, unwedded and filled with shaky hope.

He commandeered the carriage that was to have taken him and Elizabeth to the docks to board the Sterling Horn bound for Kingston for their honeymoon—confusing the driver who kept looking for the bride, and scandalizing most of those who had followed him outside. A whip-crack command snapped the driver into mobility and the carriage lurched forward. James relaxed against the hard leather seat and smiled. After a moment he pulled off his wig, wriggled out of his brocade coat and found he was humming a tune, something he rarely did. When they were out of Port Royal, James leaned out the window and directed the driver to take him on a little used road leading into the hills surrounding the town. After a mile or so he called a halt and got out of the carriage, sending it away with his wig and coat and instructions to deliver them to the fort. As he stood looking around he rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. It did not help much against the oppressive heat of the day, but it was infinitely better than wearing the heavy wool outer garment.

He walked a fair distance through some brush and emerged near the top of the highest hill overlooking the harbour. A large shade tree stood guard at the pinnacle. James had spent many evenings at this spot. He felt a flutter of anxiety that he would not find what he expected there, but the moment passed when he spied the familiar form of Jack Sparrow lounging against the tree, facing towards the docks.

James walked up behind him, making certain he scuffed his feet to announce his presence. The bottle in Jack's hand wavered for a second when he spun around. James noted that the contents had barely been touched.

The elation in Jack's eyes upon seeing who approached was quickly replaced by scorn, angry sorrow and even a little fear. He opened his mouth to spew more of the venom James had heard the night he told Jack he was marrying Elizabeth, the night he realized the unconventional man held fast to some rather conservative beliefs where his heart was concerned. Before the anger could erupt James walked up, getting too close. Jack tried to back up but was trapped between James's taller form and the tree trunk. When he could not escape he dropped the bottle, planted his palms on James's chest and shoved. James knocked his hands away. He pressed forward, dodging wild punches and grasped Jack's shoulders, leaning in to kiss him full on the mouth. There was very little taste of rum on Jack's lips and tongue, confirming James's suspicion that either Jack had not been in their meeting place long, or that he had not had even tried to get drunk. He hoped it was the latter, for that boded better for his chances to make things right between them. After he let him surface for air James stepped back and waited. The back of Jack's hand went to his lips and stayed there while his dark eyes studied James's face.

James merely stared back and watched as the anger slowly melted away. Once more stuttering hope flared to life in the fathomless eyes as Jack's hand dropped to his side.

"Couldn't go through with it, eh?" The smirk on his face was false. James could not take offence anyway. He deserved Jack's derision.

"No," James sighed. "I could not deny my own happiness any more than I could Elizabeth's."

"How did the lass take it?"

"Graciously, of course. Turner was sulking at the back of the church. As soon as I set Elizabeth free she and her blacksmith left together." He shook his head in disgust at himself. "I'm not being fair to Will. He did nothing more than fall in love with Elizabeth."

"You left her at the altar?" Jack's eyebrows climbed in mock surprise, yet his voice conveyed his glee.

"Not exactly. She left me... with my consent."

"Ah. So it was a mutual decision." Jack paused. "Any regrets, Jamie?"

James smiled at the name only Jack used for him. "We could have been good together, if only our hearts did not belong to others." He had been staring down at the harbour, watching the activity there even though he was too far away to identify the people. He took note of the Sterling Horn making ready to sail. Now he turned to Jack. "My one regret is that I did not listen to my heart when it tried to tell me I should be with the one I do love. And I love an infuriating man who has odd notions of what is right and wrong, yet he is much wiser than I where it matters most."

Jack cocked his head to one side. "If y'mean I'm smarter than you, and you should've listened to me when I told you it was a mistake to marry the lass, then thank you for sayin' so."

Despite his best efforts not to, James grinned in response. "That is exactly what I meant."

Jack grinned back at him but then his expression changed comically, as if he'd been hit over the head. "Wait. Did you just tell me you love me?"

"I did."

Jack swayed closer, fingers moving as if he was directing an unseen and unheard symphony. "That'd be the first time."

Reaching for him, James gathered him close. Jack's hands immediately went around to cup James's buttocks and give a little squeeze. James grabbed Jack by the hips and pulled their lower bodies together, grinding swelling heat against burgeoning hardness. They both moaned quietly.

James said, "It won't be the last time. I give you my vow that there will be no more silence between us. Some words need to be spoken aloud."

"And I vow to you that as long as I am able to come to you, I will."

His throat tightening, James managed to get out, "Well, that is quite the promise."

"Aye. Jack Sparrow doesn't take love lightly."

James dropped his head so that it rested on the thick, soft hair near his cheek. He whispered, "I am so ashamed that I did."

"No, love." Jack's roving hands caressed James's lower back. "You didn't. You love Elizabeth in your own way. You thought you were doing what was right."

"I was doing what I thought was expected of me. I neglected my heart... and yours."

"It's past, Jamie. You're here with me now. That's what counts."

"You just want into my breeches." It was impossible to ignore the insistent tugging of his shirt from his waistband.

A chuckle rumbled up from Jack. It went through James's chest. "Aye, but that's not the only reason. Believe me."

James lifted his head and took Jack's face between his palms, forcing the pirate to look at him.

"I do believe you. I'm forgiven then?"

"Kiss me and find out."

James smiled. They both knew they could not hide their true feelings from each other. Both had tried a time or two for differing reasons, but the truth always came out when they kissed. That he had chosen to ignore that fact months ago when he became engaged to Elizabeth caused another wave of shame to rush through him. But, as Jack said, it was in the past.

When their mouths met and clung James tasted the sweet truth of Jack's love. On this, his wedding day, he had taken his vows with the only one who counted.

# end