Continued from Part 1

Jack knew he had lost, but there was always another way; faint heart had not won him back his Pearl, but Jack knew how to bide his time. "I promise if it comes to it. I'll kill ye, and you'll do the same for me?"

James nodded once and then let out a sigh, leaning heavily on his forearms against the desk. All the fight had gone from him for now. Jack knew that on the day they faced Keane, the only person to need killing was the man himself. That was his promise.

**********

James was exhausted; there was too much to take in. He was not ready for any of this. He was certainly not ready to face Keane, but if he failed at least he could take comfort as he died that he had tried. Sparrow's logic was unfortunately unassailable. He needed a drink, but the pirate had locked the rum away and had no doubt hidden the key somewhere unsavoury.

The man had shown him more charity than his friends and far more than he could have really expected. But he felt so raw and exposed; Sparrow had seen him at his lowest and had not judged him. It left him confused and resentful. He ached all over, and itched, damn he itched. It made it difficult to think. He was jolted out of thoughts by a knock on the door. He was surprised to realise that Sparrow had been silent.

"Captain, we heard shouting then nothing. We wanted to check ye 'ain't killed each other."

James shook his head and willed his mind to clear. He said dryly: "Well, if we had intended to murder each other, you'd be a little late, wouldn't you?"

Fred's eyes flicked to Sparrow and then back to James. He looked so sheepish that James felt his mouth twitch. He was surprised he had the capacity to find humour in anything at the moment; he suspected Sparrow's brand of madness was catching. James watched Sparrow, who looked at Fred with a glint in his eye. "Who'd you bet on, mate?"

"You, of course, Cap'n."

"Right answer, mate. Now tell Anamaria we're headin' back to Tortuga."

"Aye, Cap'n."

Fred's eyes gleamed at the mention of Tortuga just as James's heart sank. He hated the bloody place.

He desperately wanted a shave; his face was itching like hell. He felt grimy from his night on deck and thought longingly of the bath but would not ask. He scratched his face angrily; the itching irritated him beyond reason. "Sparrow?"

"Pardon, mate?"

James shook his head, but played the game. "I beg your pardon, Captain Sparrow... do you own a razor?"

Sparrow scratched his own beard, a little perplexed. "Captain Jack would suffice, mate. I'm sure I 'ave one somewhere..."

Jack dropped to his knees with a smooth grace that somehow surprised James. He buried his head in a chest that was hidden under the heavy table. He muttered to himself for a few minutes and James sat down waiting for him to finish. An array of strange objects came out of the chest, and then Sparrow yelped. He turned round sucking his finger, holding a razor, which looked more like a dagger...

"Here ye are."

James took the proffered object nervously and wondered whether he should consider a beard, but figured it would drive him mad. His hand shook as he looked at it and remembered. He self-consciously scratched his shoulder, but drove the thought down. He wouldn't do this now, but memory was fickle and his hands shook.

"I'll be leavin' you. I can hear the sweet Anamaria swearing at something. I should go and see whom she's yellin' at. I'd like me crew intact."

James barely registered Jack's departure. He stared at the razor for several moments, before walking a little unsteadily into the sleeping cabin. Was his life going to be full of these unexpected pitfalls now? Memory bringing him up so sharply that he could barely breathe. What if it were to happen in battle? Little use he'd be to anyone in this state. He hoped that when they faced Keane, Sparrow would kill James before he endangered anyone else.

How long he sat there he wasn't sure, but eventually he was ready. To his surprised relief, he managed to shave with a degree of speed, finding the simple act surprisingly freeing. He felt more in control, and was surprised at the sense of satisfaction at his success. It had not been totally without damage, his face was sore in places, but he felt like he'd faced something and won.

A memory from when he had been a young middy on his first ship made him smile. He had been so awkward, but bound and determined to succeed at everything. He'd struggled with the low decks and the small steps. He'd constantly tripped up over his feet. He'd grown quite suddenly just before joining the crew, and wasn't used to his height or long limbs.

Noakes, one of the old timers had caught him one day as he tumbled. He'd stood James gently back on his feet, ignoring his blush and mumbled apology, and had said gently.

"Little steps will get ye there in the end, sir, and ye won't break yer 'ead getting there."

Noakes had subtly helped him through his early days, but always with respect; he'd drowned one night in a storm, swept overboard, before James could reach him. It had been a long time since James had consciously thought about the man.

There was something different about the Pearl under his feet; the ship seemed to feel different to him, and he couldn't think what it was. It somehow felt like she was waiting for something, but surely that was ridiculous; it had to be his misgivings about the plan. But he couldn't shake the feeling. He went up on deck.

Jack was eyeing the sea with some trepidation and James knew what was wrong, he could sense the heaviness in the air that always preceded a storm. Anamaria glared at James; she was obviously not enamoured of him at all. He suspected she would be quite happy to run him through.

"Tie everything down that ye can."

As the crew hurried to obey, James also helped where he could and before long everything that was moveable was secured. James leant heavily against the main mast, exhausted. He hadn't even done that much; the crew was more than capable themselves. However, the combination of a hangover and his injuries had made even this slight physical exertion beyond him. It was frustrating but he knew it would take time, but he did not like the feeling at all.

"Thank ye, Commodore," Gibbs nodded at him and James managed a weak smile. Gibbs hurried off.

"Ye'd best be getting to me cabin. I don't want to lose you overboard, mate..."

For some reason, James was offended by his tone; he didn't need mollycoddling, and he was as good as a sailor as any of them. "Captain Sparrow, I assure you..." He trailed off and subsided. Pride was of little use at the moment. He knew in his current state he would merely be in the way. With a resigned nod he started walking slowly towards the cabin and felt about ninety years old.

"It'll get better, mate, trust me."

James realised with a strange sense of unreality he did trust Jack, and he knew that some things would never be the same again. He was too weary to look at the implications of that thought.

**********

James cursed as he was thrown once more onto the floor; this was getting ridiculous. He would have been safer tied to the damn mast, although that would have been humiliating in the extreme. And it forced another unwelcome memory to the surface, but this was painful. He was fairly sure a couple of cuts on his back had reopened, but he was trying not to think about it. He hated feeling so useless. He had secured as much as he could in the cabin. He had even found a waterproof in the chest as he was securing it. It was certainly stolen, and as James studied it briefly he was sure it was navy issue.

Water was leaking into the cabin, and coalescing into shallow pools. Wearily he pulled himself up, wet through and bone tired, but he would not stay here. He wrapped the waterproof round him, stumbled to the door, slamming against it to force it open against the battering wind and entered into chaos.

He was drenched to the bone before he had even taken a few steps, and the howling wind battered him so hard that he could no longer feel his body. He groped blindly for the nearest thing to grab hold of. He was trying not to panic, as memories of the last storm he had faced threatened to crowd him. He'd been bound and helpless, unable to move away from the waves; he had felt like he was drowning in the rain. He shook his head against the memories, gritted his teeth and looked for shapes in the shadowy deck.

He lost his grip on the mast as the ship rocked hard, and he was thrown into the side of the deck. His cry was stifled as a wave splashed over him. He spat the seawater out and struggled back to the centre of the deck. Someone was struggling to keep the sails secure and he leant his weight to it.

The deck was swimming in water, and taking on more with each tilt. James lost count of the number of times he slipped or had to catch someone to stop them falling. He was reacting on instinct; thinking was too hard against the noise of the wind and the pain and cold of the water. He was clinging to a mast when he saw someone fall just centimetres away from him and begin to slide toward the side of the ship. James caught hold of the pants halting the slide. The man clambered to his feet nearly pulling James over. They stared at each other for a second as James realised it was Anamaria. They clung together as the ship tossed again and then the moment was gone as they dived to avoid a wave.

**********

Jack held hard onto the wheel, his fingers white and numb from the cold. He was blinded by the water but knew he had to keep hold or everything would be lost. The Pearl was trying to help but she was struggling against elements even stronger than she was. He couldn't hear anything over the howling of the wind. He just hoped his crew would survive this. He hoped he'd survive this.

The irony of losing his beloved to natural elements so soon after saving her from unnatural ones would be too much to bear. He held on tightly as a wave of water hit him forcing him backwards. He dug his heels into the deck and managed to stay upright. He kept a firm grip on the wheel as he was hit continuously by wave after wave. He hung on as other crewmen who struggled to aid him were thrown backwards helpless against the roll of the deck. The ship rocked hard caught by a strong gust. Jack was pushed off balance as a huge wave came over the side and swamped him. He struggled to keep hold against the double blow, futilely attempting to throw his whole body forward to keep hold of the wheel. His anguished howl was lost in the wind as he finally lost both grip and balance. Then he knew nothing else.

**********

James saw him fall and was torn with which way to go. Save Jack or go for the wheel. He knew if control was lost, they all died. He dived for the wheel at the same time as the Pearl seemed to slide him closer. He reached the wheel just as it tried to swing out of control. He fought against its pull and regained his balance. Brief seconds later just as he was sure all was lost, Anamaria hauled on the other side and together they held on. James had little time to think about anything, but he felt vaguely sick at the thought that Sparrow might be dead.

Finally after what seemed like a lifetime the storm abated, almost as quickly as it had come and James was exhausted. A voice behind him made him jump despite the weariness.

"Well, James, ye saved me ship, mate."

James stared at him speechless. Except for a bruise on his forehead Jack looked perfectly well. Although certainly even more bedraggled than usual. "You have to be the luckiest pirate I've ever seen." James said faintly.

"Gibbs and Fred caught me, lashed me to the mast, mate; the lass kept me safe. As I was saying ye saved me Pearl, I think that makes us even."

Everything started to blur, and James felt his knees buckle. He fell heavily with a groan to the deck, waves of dizziness overwhelming him. He knelt there embarrassed. Everyone must think him a fool; all of them had gone through the storm. Sparrow had been knocked unconscious, but it was he who collapsed. He half-heard Sparrow giving orders to repair the damage. Still not quite ready to stand he eyed Sparrow and noticed he looked exhausted as well. He was pale and drawn under his tan and his eyes held dark smudges not due to kohl. The fact that Captain Jack Sparrow was not immune to tiredness and strain somehow made James feel better.

They eyed each other in silence for a few seconds before Jack broke the silence. "We need to look at ye, James, mate; ye got blood on your back and we need a little chat about obeying orders. Ye don't outrank me here, mate."

He grinned and held out a hand, which James took gratefully. James ached all over and putting one foot in front of the other was something of a strain. All he wanted to do was get out of his wet clothes and sleep for a week. A sense of overwhelming relief settled over him. He'd hated having to choose to leave Sparrow and take the wheel. It had been the right decision and Sparrow was alive.

********

Jack was exhausted, his head hurt, and he had bruises on bruises. He was cold, wet and desperately in need of a drink. It had been too close a call for comfort. He glanced at James who looked worse then he did and felt a stirring of admiration for the man. Elizabeth really had no idea about what she had passed on when she'd chosen Will over him. He knew it was the right choice, but he suspected if she had seen this side of James the decision would not have been as easy to make.

His cabin was a mess, but James had done a fine job of securing things and the damage could have been far worse. He could tell that the Pearl was going to be just fine. She was simply a little battered.

He righted a chair and sank gratefully into it as James did the same. He bent down to remove his waterlogged boots. He stifled a groan as pain shot through him, but managed one then the other and tipped them upside down letting the water spill out. He stood carefully and padded on bare feet to the chest hoping not all the clothes were waterlogged. Fortunately there were some clothes that remained untouched and he pulled them out. He eyed them critically, but thought for now they'd have to do. He removed his soaked scarf and tied a fresh one round his head.

He tried to stand and found he couldn't and was relieved when James offered his somewhat shaky assistance. Jack couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.

"What a fine and pretty pair we make, eh?"

"Well, you have looked better," said James with dry amusement.

"So have you, mate. Ye look like something the cat dragged in."

James's smile was slow and sweet and totally unexpected. Jack suddenly felt very warm despite his clammy clothes and chilled skin.

"Now that we have established how bedraggled we both look why don't we remedy it?"

"You first, mate. Need to see what damage you've done to your back..."

James walked slowly to the sleeping cabin and straightened items as he went. Jack followed, grabbed some of the ointment, bandages, and a bottle of rum that had remained amazingly intact. His luck held today for sure. James was laid face down on the bed, his back bare. Jack wondered at the trust. Times had changed and for that he was grateful. The bandages were soaked through with blood and Jack winced. He unbound them slowly, thankful that the damage was not as extensive as he'd feared. "Not too bad, mate, just a few new bruises to show off."

James stood the binding in silence and Jack wondered if he'd fallen asleep, but as Jack finished James rolled over and sat up. He pulled on the dry shirt he'd brought in with him and waved Jack to take his shirt off. Jack was unsurprised at James's startled gasp, quickly muffled as he saw the scars covering Jack's chest and back. Jack knew the origin of each and every one, but James didn't ask. His touch was gentle but firm and soothed Jack. It had been too long since he'd felt a tender hand that he hadn't paid for or one that made so little demand on him. It was both welcome and disturbing. Too soon, yet not soon enough it was done, and the strange atmosphere between them was broken as James sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Jack grabbed the rum and took a hefty drink before he handed it over to James who took it gratefully. Jack sighed and realised he had to see how far the storm had knocked them off course, but he was far too tired to move and his head still hurt. But he was Captain Jack Sparrow and he had a reputation to uphold. He reluctantly stood and James followed suit. Jack waved vaguely around him.

"Have to check our course, and check the damage; you need some sleep."

"So do you."

"I'll be right back, mate. Stop worrying, love..."

James looked at Jack and sighed but obviously decided there was no point in arguing. He lay down carefully with his back facing Jack. He muttered bloody pirate and Jack grinned. "Don't be missing me too much, mate." James snorted but made no other reply and Jack left with a smile on his face.

**********

James was irritated at Sparrow and felt guilty that he was laid down when the rest of the crew were busy, but he was too tired and too comfortable to move. Sleep came quickly and he had no time to worry about what awaited him there.

He was drowning and no one was there to save him. Keane was holding him down and the cruel laughter of the crew rang in his ears. James started to go down for the third time and knew he was doomed. But suddenly there was someone there. He was yanked up to safety and as he lay gasping like a fish out of water. He saw a glimpse of tanned arms and a sparrow tattoo. James looked up startled into a gleaming grin and relaxed. He was warm and dry and safe.

James woke with a start, and found he had an armful of sleeping pirate. Sparrow snored softly and showed no intention of waking. It was dark outside and the sea was calm. James thought about moving but dismissed the thought. Sparrow or no Sparrow the bed was much more comfortable than the hammock. James considered the sleeping pirate and wondered at the scars he had seen and the strange something that was growing between them. The dreams were puzzling. What was about this man? He was hardly a person who should make him feel secure, but somehow in his dreams he did. Gratitude, maybe? No, that didn't explain the tenderness he'd felt. Damn the infuriating man. He was embarrassed that he really felt no burning need to push the pirate away despite the impropriety of this position. Sparrow murmured something, tensed then relaxed. James shifted his position gently, careful not to disturb Sparrow, and let sleep take him again. He'd think about it tomorrow.

But as he slipped into a doze, something pulled at him. He realised something was missing, a familiar weight. He awoke fully; all languor vanished in an instant. He pulled away from Sparrow violently, waking him. James felt at his neck. God, it was gone. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Panic took him, his heart thudded loud in his ears and he shook like he was in a fever. He tried to recall when he'd last had it, but it was all a blur. "It's gone; I've lost it." He almost fell as he tumbled off the bed; just caught himself in time and stood swaying. Sparrow was staring at him, his eyes wild. He was talking but James couldn't hear him through the buzzing in his ears and the pounding of his heart. A hard slap across his face and James remembered to breathe, gasping as his lungs filled with air. His head was thudding and he blindly accepted the bottle Sparrow handed him. Gulped it down and choked as he realised it was rum.

"Ye disturbed my beauty sleep, mate. I was havin' a lovely dream..."

James stared at him, and clutched his stinging face, disorientated. He hit me, he hit me, was all that was going through his head. "You hit me."

"Of course I hit you, mate, you weren't breathin' and I ain't going to kiss ye, well not unless ye ask me nicely..."

Sparrow grinned at James who simply stared for a moment before saying softly. "It's gone."

"And I, for one, am glad of it, mate. There's no need for it... now are we going back to sleep or do I have to drink you into submission?"

"You don't understand, Sparrow, it's gone..."

"I understand perfectly, mate... and all I'm sayin' is we can't change it. So we can either sleep or drink. The scales are pretty much level mate, but as I was sayin' me dream was really good, but if you want to drink, don't let me stop you. "

With that Sparrow laid back down and James stared at him, unaccountably hurt by Sparrow's dismissal. He stared at the man's back for a few moments before he left the sleeping area, taking the bottle with him. He sat slumped in the chair. The rum tasted bitter in his mouth, but its fiery warmth was welcome.

He stared at nothing, not aware of time passing, and was startled when the cabin was bathed in a weak light. "Ye know, Commodore, mate, you think too loudly. Disturbing me dream."

"Thought you were asleep..."

"I didn't mean to make you mad, but ye knew my feelings on the cursed thing."

"Cursed?" James laughed bitterly and he took another drink out of the bottle and then slammed it hard on the table, resisting the urge to throw it at Sparrow. He would never understand.

"I know you think you're to blame for their deaths, mate. I can't persuade you otherwise. But ye said you see them all in your head; I think that's enough for anyone, aye?

James felt his eyes burn and he struggled to fight the tears, glad that he wasn't facing Sparrow.

He blinked rapidly, took several breaths and successfully beat the threatened breakdown. He was surprised at how calm he sounded when he finally spoke, and how important it seemed to him that Sparrow understood. "You do understand."

Sparrow didn't reply directly, but said, "Come back to bed, mate. We reach Tortuga tomorrow and we both need our rest."

James made no argument, even when Sparrow lay down next to him. It was somehow comfortable to feel another person next to him, hear his breath slip into the regular rhythm of sleep.

**********

Jack was exhausted and it was hard to think. But even with his mind foggy with encroaching sleep he realised he was in something of a bind. His creed had always been never to do anything for anyone unless there was something in it for you, and don't care if you can avoid it. If you can't avoid it ensure you get some benefit from it. Above all don't get emotionally involved with anything but your ship. Unfortunately ever since he'd met the whelp and the lass things had changed, and now he was faced with even more complications.

He could argue that the capture and execution of Keane would aid him and it would also be fitting revenge for the insult to his character. Rescuing James had some benefits, too even if he knew he couldn't count on a tame commodore. James had too much pride for that. Everything could be explained away, but Jack knew he was in severe danger of compromising his creed. He realised that even if there was no benefit to him at all in this plan, he would still have done it. But then worse things had happened at sea, and he knew sometimes rules were more like guidelines. Jack lost the fight to stay awake and slipped easily into sleep.

James was subdued when he woke and moved away from Jack as if burnt. Jack might have been offended but he understood the cause. James ate breakfast with little enthusiasm.

"We're a bit off course," Jack paused waiting for James to say, "again"? But the comment didn't come and Jack continued. "We'll reach Tortuga by dusk. Best time if ye ask me. We can sample the night life eh?"

James froze with a mouthful of food halfway to his mouth. "I think I'd prefer to stay on board. It might raise a few questions if you're in the company of a Commodore. I have no wish to revisit the delights of Tortuga." His tone left no doubt as to his opinion of the town.

"James, mate, you've seen yourself in the mirror. You're more pirate than commodore, and no one will ask... and we might learn something of use with that glower of yours."

James shrugged, disinclined to argue and continued eating. The silence was unnerving and an uncomfortable reminder of the first days after James's rescue. Jack hummed and hoped for some reaction. He could understand James's uneasiness over Tortuga. He knew it was where Keane had captured James, but it was also the best place for information, rum, and women, of course. They'd distract him from the rather disturbing realisation of last night. Not being slapped this time would be a decided advantage, naturally.

"I apologise," James's quiet voice broke into Jack's thoughts and he looked up into James's face. James paused obviously struggling to find the words. "And I wanted to thank you for last night."

"No problem, mate... what are friends for?"

"Friends."

James echoed the thought faintly, but made no further comment. Jack wasn't sure what had happened but something had suddenly shifted between them. There was look on James's eyes that he couldn't place. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it quickly; sometimes even he knew silence was necessary. He stood and went to check on deck.

**********

James was so distracted he never noticed him go. He knew now just how he was changed. He was a friend to a pirate. It had never been voiced previously. It was a disconcerting realisation that aside from the obvious gratitude he felt towards Jack, there was something more there now too. Everything came into sharp focus, all the things he hadn't wanted to face crowded in.

He could never go back to where he'd been, never. Keane had been a respected naval officer for many years. The only reason he'd been dismissed was because a midshipman he'd nearly killed had happened to be the much-loved son of a well-connected politician. That the Navy would shelter a man of such cruelty for so many years was disturbing. Discipline had to be maintained, of course, but there was a line. Was that why Gibbs had fled the navy and thrown his lot in with Jack? Gibbs was a good man for all his drunken ways, and so was Jack. Nothing would ever be the same.

James shook the thoughts away, surprised to find he was alone in the cabin. He stretched carefully, mindful of his new bruises and went up on deck with a new sense of resolve. He would think on the implications later when they had Keane secured. His hand went of its own violation to his neck before he remembered the necklace wasn't there.

Jack grinned at him as he came up on deck. The storm had left them a freshened breeze and it whipped at James's hair as he tried to keep it out of his face.

"You need one of these, mate," Jack said cheerfully pointing to his scarf. James reluctantly acknowledged he probably did. He shook his head at Jack's glee. "Or I can just cut your hair, mate."

"No, thank you, Jack. Even fallen naval officers have enough sense not to let a pirate near them with sharp implement."

If Jack was surprised at James's use of his first name, he made no comment. Merely looked comically offended at the apparent slur on his talents which made James's lips twitch.

"And you're not fallen, merely temporarily misplaced, mate, if Captain Jack Sparrow has anything to say about it."

James tried to form a suitable reply but found he was touched by the comment. Temporarily misplaced sounded like something he could live with.

******

Jack watched as James studied himself in the mirror. He had a bemused look on his face as if he didn't quite recognise who he was looking at. James had eventually decided he didn't like the scarf on his head, so had tied his hair back into a ponytail with the scarf loosely fastened at his neck. He wore a ruffled shirt which was open at the neck and tight tan trews with knee high boots. The fading bruises that had suggested vulnerability now leant him a rakish air. Jack swallowed; he had always been attracted to pretty things, male, female, gold, silver, and gems. James was decidedly pretty.

James looked at Jack. "I look foolish."

"Now there's no need to be rude, mate. Ye look like a pirate"

James stared at Jack for a moment. "I did not say you looked foolish; you are a pirate." James fell silent as he looked once more at his reflection and then added: "I just look wrong." Jack grinned; wrong was the last word he'd have used.

"Ye look fine, mate."

"Then why are you staring at me?" James's tone was prickly and self-conscious which only made Jack grin more.

"Just you make a pretty perfect pirate, love. It's a bit unexpected."

James snorted at the compliment, but Jack didn't miss the slight reddening to his cheeks and enjoyed the reaction.

********

Tortuga was a riot of noise and light and smell. James was suddenly overwhelmed. It had been so long since he'd experienced anything like this. He felt giddy and light headed. The smell of spices and sweat and waste made him want to sneeze and brought on unexpected nausea. The noise made his ears ring and his head hurt. It was all too much and he started to sway. He bit his lip hard and clenched his fists; his ragged nails digging into his palms. The pain brought him back to himself and he steadied his nerves with an effort. No one seemed to have noticed his sudden panic and he relaxed as he filtered out some of the noise and smell. Bloody Tortuga! He hated this place. It was certainly an opinion none of his companions shared.

"We need rum, mates, and lots of it."

"I thought we were here for Keane..."

"Now don't you spoil the party, mate. Pleasure first, business later. Savvy?"

James sighed and resigned himself to a miserable evening amongst the great unwashed. Changed opinions not withstanding, pirates were still pirates and he had no real desire to socialise. The fear of discovery still lurked, but as he eyed the populace he knew he wouldn't even rate a second glance. Or at least that was the theory. He had noticed a couple of people eyeing him, but none seemed to recognise him.

"Very well, Captain... lead on."

"Yer catching on, mate..." Jack turned to his crew, suddenly all business. "Eyes and ears open, savvy? And Gibbs, try not to fall asleep with the pigs again, eh?"

The tavern was as noisy and smelly as the rest of the God forsaken town and Jack, damn him, was right at home. He found a table and watched as Jack made his weaving way to the bar. James was amazed anew that Jack didn't fall over. Jack's unsteady gait made far more sense to James now. It had been noticeably reduced to the point where James had hardly noticed it when they'd been on the Pearl. The sea was Jack's natural habitat and he obviously struggled with his land legs. James checked out the other customers and looked for any sign of Keane and his crew. But found none, but it was dim and crowded so James wasn't surprised he couldn't see much.

Jack re-appeared bearing drinks, and sat down opposite James with a grin. "Drink!"

James looked suspiciously at the drink and sniffed it before he drank and spluttered at the taste.

"What is that?"

"Tortuga Rum, mate. Can't beat it."

James risked another drink and once the initial shock wore off, he realised it wasn't that bad. Throughout the night his tankard was never empty for long and it wasn't long before his head was fuzzy and he looked at Jack through a haze of alcohol. He looked good, thought James, exotic even. He looked at his drink, surprised at the thought. What did they put in it? He was having delusions. He'd spent days with the man and now he was noticing him? Well, a lot of those days he'd been unconscious but still. It had to be the drink. He then thought of Jack's skin under his touch as he had eased the bruising. The feel of his warm body when he'd woken up next to him... the scars.

"Jack?"

"What, love?"

"How did you get the scars?"

"Some from my enemies, some from my friends, and some just because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time..."

"That isn't an answer..."

"All the one ye need, mate."

James looked up and saw the last person he wanted to see, and froze... Beevor. He glanced at Jack who despite appearing very drunk became instantly alert.

"What do we do?"

"Have another drink."

James stared at Jack dumbstruck for a moment, but then realised he was right. There was nothing he could do as Beevor was walking over with an unpleasant smile on his face. James took another shaky drink from his tankard and then met Jack's dark gaze.

"He's here then."

"Looks like it, mate."

James felt a creeping panic and forced himself into stillness because it was too late to do anything else. Beevor was there behind him. James kept his head down forcing himself to stay calm and not tremble. He knew any sign of weakness would merely draw Beevor's attention to him.

"Jus' saw ye and wanted to know 'ow the cap'n's gift worked out for ye."

"He died... think I overworked him... but he was fun while he lasted."

Beevor laughed and James's skin prickled. He barely suppressed a shudder. He remembered the same laugh all too clearly and it would probably haunt him for the rest of his life .His heart was beating so loud he was sure everyone could hear it. Beevor's stench was making him ill, not just the strength of it, but the memories it conjured up. God, the voice alone chilled him to the bone.

"He's a quiet one..."

"Lost 'is tongue."

"Quieter that way, eh?"

James didn't want to see the look on either of the men's faces and kept his head down, but he wasn't even sure he could have moved a single muscle even if his life had depended on it. He was terrified that Beevor would expect him to look up, or even yank his head up for a better view. Jack's voice was ice cold as he replied.

"Somethin' like that, mate."

There must have been something in both tone and look that unnerved Beevor as he said quickly, "Must be getting' back to me ship. The Cap'n 'ates tardiness." With a sketchy salute he left.

James felt ill, hot and cold all at the same time. He stumbled to his feet, just managing not to overturn the chair. He barely felt Jack's hand guiding him surprisingly steadily through the crowd. They just made it out before James was violently sick against the tavern wall. He retched a few times before he finally regained some control. He was humiliated by his reaction. If he acted like this with Beevor how on earth was he to face Keane?

"Don't be too 'ard on yerself, mate... it wasn't exactly planned for."

James managed a bark of bitter laughter at that, but was unable to say anything else.

"Take me back to Port Royal, Jack. I'm useless."

James heard an exasperated intake of breath, and found himself pinned lightly against the wall with a speed that unnerved him. He met Jack's frustrated gaze and let out a shaky breath. Jack released his grip but his eyes still pierced James with their sudden intensity.

"James, mate, hate to break it to you. You're only flesh and blood. Live with it? Or I can make ye a hair shirt if ye like?" He held up his hand and stopped James's protest. "If ye say I don't understand... I'll let Ana have her way with ye. Savvy?"

James managed a laugh from somewhere and replied faintly: "Savvy." Jack kept his eyes on him for a moment longer. He nodded once and after vaguely brushing James down, set off walking. James stayed against the wall for a few seconds, and then quickly caught up. Slowly James became aware they were being followed. The street was quiet, with most people either still in the taverns or the whorehouses. Those on the street would not aid them.

"Jack?"

"I know, keep walking. How many?'"

"Three."

James felt for the sword at his belt, grateful that Jack had insisted he have one when he'd refused his own sword back. His sword nestled at Jack's belt. James's hands went to his own belt and he saw that there was no way out. There were three behind, but another two had materialised in front of them.

It happened too fast. Two men went for Jack who managed to stab one in the leg but was caught into a battle with the other. James was nearly pinioned by a third but elbowed him in the groin as he went for him. He blindly thrust out with his sword and he was rewarded by a satisfying grunt of pain.

A fourth man tried to slice at James's head, but James caught the blade with his own and managed to twist it away. He could hear grunts and clashes from his left but didn't dare look, so intent on his own fight.

James was surprised at the ease of it all. Reflexes honed by many years hadn't been lost and he soon gained ground against his attacker. His greater reach and sheer determination was working to his advantage. He caught a flash of silver in his attackers other hand and swerved back to avoid the vicious stab from the dagger. Anger at the tactics leant him strength, and he blocked the next blow with ease, and followed through with a torrent of slashes that drove his opponent back. Finally after what seemed like too long his break came as the other man stumbled, leaving himself open for a final attack. James lunged forward and felt a jolt of sheer vicious pleasure as the man fell with a sickly groan.

Jack seemed to be having a little more difficulty but he was still winning until he stumbled.

James started to go to his aid, but instead of falling, Jack ducked down and the man flew over his head.

He landed with a heavy thud on the cobbles.

The fifth man had fled when he realised his prey would not be as easily subdued as he'd believed. It was all over. Jack swayed alarmingly and James ran over to him.

"Jack?"

"My shoulder; he sliced my shoulder."

James could see there was some blood seeping through Jack's shirt. He gently eased the shirt from the wound, watchful for any repeat of the attack. It wasn't too deep but would be painful. He could tell by the set of Jack's jaw and the rate of his breathing that it was hurting. James took the scarf from around his neck and tied it tightly round the wound. Jack winced and then looked at James with a light in his eyes that was unexpected.

"Useless, eh?"

**********

Despite his wound, Jack was content. He'd managed to relieve his attacker of his purse. It had been how he'd got caught in the shoulder. Gain without pain was obviously better, but the purse had been heavy and the wound light. James was leaning pleasantly close to him and he had enough to pay for a room in a nice tavern for a change.

The hum of excitement he always felt after a successful fight was coursing through his body. He was humming with energy. He could feel the same sense of excitement in James who looked suddenly alive. He looked at James and could see very little of the Commodore in him, and even less of the nearly broken man he'd been even just hours ago. James caught his eye and grinned and Jack's breath hitched in his throat. It was always his greatest weakness: treasure of any kind. It didn't have to be silver and gold. James was still watching him and Jack saw it when James realised just what had crossed his mind. He didn't respond either way, he didn't back away, or move closer, but the glow didn't diminish Jack breathed again. Ignore it, yes; that was the sensible thing to do.

Jack got them a room using the excuse it was better to share so they could watch each other's backs. James merely raised an eyebrow and asked the woman for some fresh water and rum.

The wench obviously found them both appealing. Her look was certainly come hither. James nodded politely but didn't encourage her and Jack sighed heavily. If he couldn't have James he'd have liked someone but James glared at him, eyeing his shoulder meaningfully. Jack muttered at navy eunuchs, but he had to admit his shoulder hurt.

"Miss? How much would it be for a bath in the morning?"

James's polite manner gained a winning smile from the woman and she giggled, naming a price even Jack felt was reasonable. He was a little offended that the woman seemed to think James more attractive than he, but at least she hadn't slapped him.

James followed him up the stairs and made an appreciative sound as they entered the room.

Jack liked the look of the bed and wished he could count on some action in it tonight. He was surprised James hadn't complained there was only one but it was big enough that contact, however desirable wasn't necessarily inevitable. They divested themselves of their swords and other sharp objects and Jack placed one of the chairs against the door. This was Tortuga after all.

"It meets with your Commodorial approval?"

"Better than a hard deck and a rat infested brig... but not quite up to the standard I was used to."

The comment was underlined with humour and Jack threw himself onto the bed, bouncing on it and then winced at the pain. James eyed him speculatively.

"Let me look at the shoulder before you drip blood everywhere."

Jack obediently took his shirt off and let James begin to bathe the wound. He made a huge production of pain as James tended to the wound. James was exasperated, and threatened to knock him out if he didn't stop.

"Ye could always sit on me, mate."

Jack said it playfully, certain that James wouldn't act on it and so was taken by surprise when James did exactly that. He was suddenly pinioned under James's greater weight and for a brief moment he panicked, but as he looked up startled, he saw the look on James's face and relaxed. Affection, lust and mischief warred for dominance, but he could see no danger in his eyes.

"Is this what you wanted, Captain Jack?"

The huskiness of James's voice sent tremors down his backbone and he sighed. "James, ye don't have to do this ye know..."

"I know... which is exactly why I want to..."

Jack wasn't sure why he protested; he never usually turned anything down, but he didn't want this out of some strange twisted idea of gratitude. "James..."

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Jack opened his mouth to answer but James leant down and kissed him. James's hands were as busy as his mouth, nipping and fondling his nipples. Jack still high from the fight needed it so badly. He arched upwards into James who rubbed against him, his own erection obvious through the tight breeches.

Jack wanted more and considered flipping James so he was on top, but he knew James needed to control this, so he whimpered and resisted.

James moved away from him and said with his voice harsh with need. "Too many clothes."

He took off his own shirt and then returned to Jack and nipped his way down his chest until he reached the waistband of his breeches. Jack eagerly lifted his hips as James slid them down exposing his already erect cock. With barely a pause James took him in his mouth and skilfully sucked him.

"J-james where did you learn? Ahh."

His words were lost as James hummed and he felt the vibration through every part of his body. He thrust upwards and struggled not to do it too hard that he choked James. Too soon he came with a strangled moan and sank limply back, aware of the throbbing pain in his shoulder.

James cleaned him gently and went to pull his breeches back up, but Jack shuffled out of them. It was far more fun doing this naked. James eased himself off and Jack opened one eye. He looked up at James who looked back at him smugly, and then leant down to kiss him and Jack tasted his essence on James's lips.

Jack grinned up at him and nudged up against James, "You seem to have a problem there, mate. Need a hand?"

James groaned as Jack rubbed his naked body over James's bulging groin.

"Jack."

It was more a moan than a word. Conscious of scaring James he backed away while James settled himself on his back. Jack eased James's breeches down and determinedly ignored his erection. He nibbled and sucked James's chest until he was thrusting against him, begging for his touch. He went down on James's cock and repaid him in full. James was almost silent as he came and Jack looked at him concerned. But James showed no sign of being upset. Jack lapped up James's come and then wiped him off. He then gently replaced his breeches. He moved to lie next to James, careful of his shoulder and said softly. "Well, love, that was unexpected."

James opened his eyes and looked at Jack with a slight smile on his face. "You always appeared to be under the impression that Captain Jack Sparrow is irresistible."

Jack wasn't convinced; he knew he was irresistible to most people, but not usually Commodores who had shown very little desire in the days they'd spent together on the Pearl. There'd been the odd fetching blush, but nothing that would have suggested this level of interest. He hated the thought that James might have felt he had to. James had had too few choices in the last months he didn't want to think he had added to the problem.

"Why?"

James sat up annoyed. "Because I could."

"That's no answer."

"It's all the one you need."

"Commodore bloody Norrington. Will you stop it?"

Jack was frustrated by the evasion and could see his sudden flash of temper took James aback.

But even Captain Jack Sparrow had his limits and James managed to find them more than most. He looked James squarely in the face. He didn't flinch or look away and met Jack's gaze firmly. His eyes were warm and Jack was hypnotised by the emotion in them. Where was the repressed uptight Commodore now? Thought Jack, a little amazed at the transformation. He had seen it happening but this was more than he had imagined. It seemed strong evidence that the uniform did do strange things to men.

"You gave me back me. You didn't make me do this. I chose to and I enjoyed it, and tomorrow when we've slept I will want to do it again."

The words were calmly said and they didn't seem to be words that could tilt his world but they were and all Jack managed, the wind firmly out of his sails was a startled. "Oh."

James shuffled up out of the wet patch and laid his head on the pillow, discussion closed. Jack did the same still a little stunned by events and despite everything was asleep in minutes.

***********

James lay awake as he listened to Jack's even breathing and smiled. He hadn't felt this free in years, if ever. He had suddenly, in a flash of illumination, realised what he felt. It wasn't about love, not yet; it was about him, and what he wanted. For the first time in far too long he had choices and he had wanted Jack Sparrow and Jack had wanted him. He was exotic, wild and free and everything James wasn't. James knew he wasn't healed and he also knew he might never be totally well again. He had seen the darkest places of himself and no one could ever fully recover from that. But he was who he was and that was all most men could say. He would if it was in his power and capture Keane and see the bastard hanged. He was under no illusion that it would make things better but at least there would be one less demon to face.

An unexpected, but not unwelcome sense of affection and peace swept over James as he looked at Jack. He looked far younger asleep. With the hooded and knowing eyes hidden there was an air of innocence about him. James smiled at the incongruity of the thought and deciding he really needed to make Jack take a bath tomorrow and drifted off. He awoke desperate to relieve himself and found Jack resting in close to him, his naked skin, warm against James. He untangled himself gently and did his business, before easing himself back into bed. Jack sought his heat out again, and James allowed it, curling his longer frame slightly round Jack's and slipped into dreams once more.

**********

Jack woke when it was still dark; the pain in his shoulder had finally interrupted his slumber. He awoke unwillingly and by degrees but the pain was annoyingly persistent and eventually pulled him fully awake. James was still sleeping soundly. Jack eased out from under him regretfully, shuffled to the edge of the bed, and as quietly as possible groped for the rum in the darkened room. He subdued a cry of triumph as his hand found the container. He sat on the floor, uncorked the rum and took a hefty drink. He had enjoyed the evening's entertainment and had been more than a little surprised at James's skill. It was hard to reconcile the Commodore with this man. He knew whom he preferred. Jack grinned around the neck of the container. Oh, he definitely had a preference.

James stirred restlessly on the bed with a muttered groan but soon settled back into sleep. Jack needed a plan to fight and beat Keane, but it might take a lot to convince him to fight. The mad bastard had taken a liking to him. Jack was loath to interfere with honest piracy, but he knew there was nothing honest in Keane's methods. James stirred and his sleep muffled voice broke the silence, " Jack... what are you doing?"

"Thinkin'"

"Well, that accounts for the noise."

"If ye hadn't melted me brain, mate, I'd be offended at that."

James snorted and then there was another shuffle and light filled the room as James lit the lamp. Jack blinked in the sudden brightness and blinked blearily up at James who looked down at him." What are you thinking about?"

"Keane."

"Oh."

The word fell heavily between them and Jack sighed but was reassured as James sat down next to him on the floor and indicated he wanted a drink. Jack handed him the rum and James took a large gulp and choked. Jack thumped him a little too enthusiastically on the back as he liberated the rum from James's now loose grasp. James glared with his eyes streaming and Jack caught his gaze and smothered a laugh with his own cough. James looked impossibly endearing with the startled expression, still slightly sleep fuzzy. Jack could not resist and stole a kiss, savouring the rum taste and James's enthusiastic response. Too soon though James pulled away and looked at Jack seriously.

"We need a plan of attack..."

Jack bit back a curse and glared at James and demanded that his cock behave itself.

"Now you mention this!"

James looked down and was genuinely contrite. "I'm sorry Jack... just..." he trailed off suddenly unsure of himself and Jack easily forgave him. Some things could wait and some things couldn't. Even if his cock was a little confused on which was which, his brain wasn't.

"If we take 'em by surprise we can beat them. Keane won't be expecting an attack."

"I know your opinion of the Navy, but we are not as incompetent as you like to believe.

He was one of the best and most successful Captains. I have seen how good his crew is, and they have no mercy, Jack; none."

The catch in James's voice was obvious and his hands nearly strayed to his bare neck but he settled them back to his lap. Jack could see the small tremors in them but they were quickly controlled. To Jack it was simple; they would win.

"Then we will show none either."

James nodded in response with his jaw set with resolve. "We take them as they attack another vessel. I am sure we will not have to wait long for them to do so. They'll have spent money here so no doubt Keane will want to replenish his wares."

"Then that's our plan! Simple, eh?"

James laughed shortly and eyed Jack with mingled amusement and worry. "You make it sound so simple."

"I trust me ship, me crew, and me Commodore... so it will be simple. "

James merely shook his head, but there was laughter in his eyes, the bleakness that had briefly settled there was gone, at least for now. Jack re-corked the rum. He stood up and carefully moved his shoulder. The rum had taken the edge of the pain and he felt ready to sleep again. James copied his move and they were soon settled back on the bed. With a few shuffles they settled comfortably and Jack blew the lamp out.

**********

James woke up and his nose twitched at the unpleasant bodily odour that assaulted his nostrils. He really wanted another taste of what they'd begun last night but he wasn't sure he could stand the smell. The smell of unwashed flesh sent shivers down his spine and made him feel nauseous. He wasn't sure how he would convince Jack to bathe, but after a few moments a devious thought struck him. It was decidedly sneaky and probably unworthy but he couldn't bring himself to care. He slipped quietly off the bed and picked up the remainder of the rum they'd been drinking last night as well as the second bottle Jack had procured and slipped on his shirt. He picked up Jack's discarded garments gingerly and eyed them suspiciously. But they weren't crawling with anything.

He made his way downstairs and the young woman who he met on the stairwell smiled at him. She wasn't the same girl who had served them last night, but she knew what he wanted.

"Sir, I'll prepare the bath and have it brought up to your room."

"Thank you, miss," he paused and added: "I want to play something of a practical joke on my friend. Would you be so kind as to place the rum into the filled jugs?"

"Sir?" Her smile faltered a little but the coins he found in the purse bundled in Jack's clothes reassured her as did his smile. She also took the garments promising to have them washed and returned.

James was satisfied with himself and returned to the room to await their bath. Jack was still sleeping, but he stirred and it was obvious he was close to waking.

A knock on the door fully roused him he looked up as James ushered the men with the bath and water in. James gave them a few more coins and they left. The purse was still surprisingly heavy with coins and James wondered where Jack had got the money. He had meant to ask last night but he shrugged the question off. It wasn't that important. James surreptiously locked the door and tucked the key under the bath as he bent down to test the water and hoped Jack hadn't seen the act.

Jack watched him with interest and a smile. "You and your bathing, James; I don't know what you see in it."

"This isn't just for me... it's for you as well."

Jack's eyes widened and he looked at the iron tub balefully. "I don't do water, less it has salt in it, mate. That's Navy. I'll just watch and drink.

Jack looked round for the rum. He stood out of bed, naked and James swallowed at the sight. He really hoped Jack wasn't going to be too reluctant as he had plans that did not involve fighting. If he was going to die he wanted to have something more than duty and regrets to take with him.

"James..."

"Yes, Jack?"

"Where's the rum gone? And my clothes! You took my clothes!"

Jack was gloriously naked, and James's breath caught as the pirate advanced on him.

"The rum isn't precisely gone, just misplaced, and your clothes will be returned."

"Misplaced? Where is it?"

James backed away; suddenly a little worried that this had not been such a bright idea. He didn't want to suffer severe injury just yet. Jack sounded really mad. He knew his obsession with cleanliness puzzled Jack, but it was important. It was probably because it was something he had lost control over during his captivity. It hadn't bothered him so much on the Pearl, but now it felt important.

"It is close by."

"James..."

They were toe to toe now and Jack's naked proximity was making it hard for James to think, but he managed a slightly cracked. "Parley, Jack, parley." Fear and arousal warred for dominance as he looked at the irate pirate.

"What?"

Jack backed away suddenly and muttered to himself about the bloody French, bloody Navy, and glared at James, his eyes a little wild.

"I want to come to an agreement. You bathe for me, and I will return the rum and clothes... and we can carry on the activity our little discussion interrupted last night."

The wildness had faded from Jack's eyes and he was looking at James with something approaching amusement in his face.

"Your word on that?"

James nodded and breathed shakily. Jack eyed him with a degree of sympathy albeit sympathy tempered by irritation at his tactics. He knew his sudden fear had not gone unnoticed, but Jack did not seem to have taken offence. James poured the water into the tub careful not to reveal the rum in the jugs. It was soon filled to his satisfaction and he indicated it was ready. Jack took a few steps towards the bath, and then halted, before taking a step back. James watched him, a smile tugging on his face.

"It is only a bath, Jack."

"Exactly, mate."

"You didn't seem this allergic to water when you bathed me."


"That was different..."

James was getting annoyed and pinned Jack with a glare and wondered what incentive he could offer. He drew the rum out from the jug and waved it at Jack temptingly. He considered taking a sip but his stomach rebelled at the thought of rum this early in the morning. Jack's eyes lit up and he sauntered quickly to the bath, grabbing for the rum. James moved quickly out of the way and Jack splashed into the bath. He spluttered and glared but made no move to get out.

"You better be worth this, mate, or..."

James handed him the rum. He had to admit he felt a measure of guilt at his behaviour, but there was something intoxicating about the sudden sense of freedom he felt. He knew he could die when they fought Keane. If not in the battle then at Jack's hand, as he was sure he would keep his promise if things looked bad. He was no fool as to expect it to be easy and he had a sudden desire to enjoy life as he suspected his days on this earth were numbered. Even if he survived the day, the strange sense of wild freedom would soon be gone. He felt Jack watching him and looked up with a smile which Jack returned looking suspiciously innocent and beguiling.

"What?"

"Do I get me reward soon?"

And with a speed that took James's breath away, he pulled him into the bath headfirst and James came up spluttering indignantly. He should have expected that he supposed. He was soaked and these were his only clothes, but somehow it didn't seem to matter.

He disrobed and proceeded to give Jack his reward. Sometime later they lay in dozy languor on the bed.

"Ye know, James, there might be something to bathing regularly, as long as there are... compensations.

James laughed and moved to sit up aware they needed to get moving, but reluctant to leave this haven. A knock on the door made the decision for him. He dressed in still damp clothes and answered the door. The bath was removed and Jack's now clean clothes were returned. The men eyed the soaked floor with some interest and James felt a slight blush at their scrutiny, but they said nothing and departed.

*********

Jack had enjoyed the morning's activities despite the indignity of having to bathe, but he had been more than adequately compensated. He had been surprised at James's sudden playfulness and didn't like the almost desperate edge to him but he would not say anything, as there was really nothing to say.

They gathered their weapons and returned to the Pearl who was pleased to see them and impatient to be off. She was always happier at sea. Most of the crew looked a little worse for their night in Tortuga, but all wore smug, well-sated expressions and bore news.

"Cap'n, the Cadaver is in Tortuga, but she left today, just past dawn. There's news of a ship, and Keane seems eager to take it."

James paled for a moment before straightening his shoulders with a grim smile.

"Take 'er out, Ana, me lovely. We have a boat to catch. Men, roll out the guns. I doubt Captain Keane will be happy to see us."

Jack took the helm and set the course. He was relieved that no one argued with him, as he did not have any real argument to counter any determined resistance.

James hovered uncertainly as if he wasn't sure what he wanted to do. With a glance towards Jack he headed to help prepare the guns and Jack knew it was the best place for him. His crew knew a good sailor when they saw one, and James was most definitely a good sailor.

The Cadaver was easily spotted and when the Pearl came upon her she had a small merchant vessel cornered and her mercy. The merchant ship was only lightly armed and the Cadaver's guns had damaged her, but she still appeared seaworthy. Jack brought the Pearl in close to provide shelter and protection for the merchant ship. The Cadaver fired her cannon and if the Pearl had been less manoeuvrable it would have done some serious damage. Jack petted his ship whispering that he'd let nothing happen to her. He could tell his ship wasn't entirely convinced by his assurances, but was willing to go along with them. A lot like James in fact, thought Jack wryly before he turned his attention to the battle.

The deck shook with the impact of the shots from the Cadaver. The Pearl had more guns, but Keane's cannon were larger. Jack steadied himself on the wheel with some difficulty. Smoke was beginning to fill the air, making it hard to breathe. Jack's eyes watered, his throat tightened as the air thickened. The Pearl shook, and she was pulled closer to the Cadaver.

"Move away. Move away."

The call went up the assembled crew and Jack knew where it had come from. James was no doubt in full Commodorial mode, and few would argue with him. Jack could barely see in the thickening air and his smarted from the smoke. A crewman ran to aid Jack and together they pulled the ship to. The lookout yelled he could see space between the Pearl and the Cadaver and Jack breathed again. Jack heard the Pearl sigh beneath him. Smoke and noise filled the air and his Pearl groaned and tipped under the double blows of firing her cannon and the force of the hits.

"Get ready to board."

He yelled at the man next to him and the shout went up the line, carrying it to all decks. Jack knew this organisation was James's work. His crew were good in a battle but this ordered pattern was naval. He knew that this was the best way to beat Keane. His ship was no doubt organised in much the same meaner. You can take the man out of the navy, but not the navy out of the man.

Continue to Part 3