At the sound of the door to the cellyard, a sound that could cause a prisoner relief as well as increase his fear of death, Jack raised his head, frowned for an instant and then slowly got up from the immensely comfortable heap of dirt upon which he was sitting.

Who could it be? Certainly not young Turner again. The whelp had kept his part of the agreement and got what he wanted. Freeing Jack from prison a second time was neither agreed on nor was it wanted. Jack hated being indebted to people, especially to the offspring of a man he had long held in the highest regard before Bootstrap betrayed his trust and nearly got him killed on his own ship. He owed the bloody Turner family enough.

No, it wasn't Will. It was someone far less probable.

"Commodore," Jack remarked, trying to sound entirely unimpressed. He didn't quite succeed.

"Sparrow." Commodore James Norrington stopped in front of Jack's cell and for a moment just stood there, tall, neat and brocaded, a man of the law in all his glory. There was, however, something in his voice that led Jack to assume this wasn't going to be an entirely official visit at all. The Scourge of Piracy in the Spanish Main sounded almost—friendly.

Jack decided to keep silent and wait, convinced that, in time, Norrington would drop his mask and be his old self again; unforgiving, cold and unapproachable.

Commodore Norrington was disinclined to do him the favour. "I have come to thank you," he said in a calm voice.

Jack's eyes went wide. "Er... what was that?" he muttered, staring in complete bewilderment at the gold braid winking in the dim light.

Norrington cleared his throat. "I have come to thank you," he repeated. "For what you did. In the cave."

Jack frowned. So he was not dreaming or hallucinating. Bloody hell. He'd never thought he'd see the day! Especially not when his life was on the line. But what the blazes was the man talking about? He could hardly be thanking him for killing Barbossa and thus preventing a pirate's well-deserved hanging!

The Commodore seemed to notice Jack's confusion and decided to explain himself. "Miss Swann told me that you... took the curse upon you. You saved my ship, my men and myself, and for that I thank you."

Jack shook his head. "Nah, mate, you don't understand. 'Twas the whelp—pardon me—young Turner, who saved you. His blood broke the curse, not mine. You're wasting your niceties here."

It would have been too easy for Norrington to just leave it like that and go. He must loathe being indebted to a pirate, especially the one he had been chasing with such an effort, and finding out that he didn't owe him anything should have given him relief. So why didn't he go?

"I am aware of the fact that Mr Turner's blood was needed," Norrington conceded, "but you shared the curse. Miss Swann..." He swallowed and hesitated. It was Jack's distinct impression he was searching for the right words. "She was clearly not lying when she informed me about the events on the Isla de Muerta. You fought a duel in that cave—and you were... like them. Without your cooperation, we would all have been doomed."

Jack nodded slowly. It was true—had he not returned the coin to the Aztec chest and paid the blood debt, the curse would not have been lifted. The Dauntless' crew, the Governor's daughter and Bootstrap's son would have been slaughtered like pigs and Jack himself chased across the seven seas before Barbossa and his men would have killed him, finally ridding themselves of the curse and leading merry lives as rich men.

The last fact was apparently something the Commodore could not comprehend; they would have trapped and murdered Jack just as they had planned to kill Will, shedding all his blood just in case. Lifting the curse in time had been a rather selfish action; he didn't deserve to be thanked for it.

Jack didn't feel comfortable with the situation. He didn't know if he should look at the Commodore or if that would immediately give the impression he wanted to say something. Neither did he know what to do with his hands. He was fidgeting against the iron bars, but he couldn't explain it. He was doing nothing but standing there. Why couldn't he relax?

Of course, he didn't mind having a bit of company, but the Commodore definitely had enough talent to ruin the fun. He had never expected Norrington to thank him, let alone hoped for it. The man had enough problems already, what with the loss of his fastest ship, the loss of lives, and that fight against the undead must have been quite interesting to explain to the Admiralty, not to mention the man's bad luck in love. Jack idly wondered if Norrington was any good with cards.

Those thoughts came as quite a surprise to Jack. Since when did he actually care for the Commodore's problems?

Norrington cleared his throat, as if to draw Jack's attention to the fact that he was still present and waiting for a reply. "If I may ask," he said, hesitantly, his eyes serious. "Why?" It was no rhetorical question.

Jack didn't understand. "Why what?"

Clearly, Norrington was not used to having unofficial and peaceable discussions with people he was supposed to hang. He didn't look too happy and must be finding the conversations as uncomfortable as the pirate. "Why did you take that coin?" he finally managed, and as soon as the words were out, he seemed a bit relieved. Jack was surprised that the man had given this subject some thought.

"Ah. That." Jack grinned, showing all his golden teeth. "I was wonderin', really, when that question would come up." It was not entirely true, but he could not resist teasing the Commodore a bit. Jack paused, his dark eyes scrutinising the other man with growing interest.

It was an understatement to say that now that he knew why Norrington was here, he enjoyed the unexpected attention and the way Norrington attempted to disguise his feelings was definitely something new. He looked concerned, honestly interested, and his fingers moved slowly, almost too slowly to notice, against the iron bars of the cell, as if he were nervous. Jack's sharp eyes didn't miss any of it.

Then suddenly, Norrington lowered his gaze, obviously embarrassed of being so predictable when he wasn't supposed to be. Really, the Scourge could be quite sympathetic. A little awkward, maybe, but he had his good side. That was interesting.

"Y'see, mate, it all comes down to this. I knew I'd regret not taking the coin. I knew I'd want it, if I hadn't taken it. I would have had to live me poor damn life knowin' that I had a chance of immortality, a chance to see how it feels, what it's like—if only for a moment—and wasted it. Chances like that don't come your way every day and you would be a fool if you don't take advantage of them." He eyed Norrington closely and then added in a serious tone, "I may not be much, but I'm no fool."

Norrington suddenly looked contemplative. He nodded but didn't seem to realize it. Eventually, he brushed over the lapels of his brocaded coat and raised his chin. "I see," he said. There was nothing to interpret into that—the man was completely unreadable.

"Ever had a chance compared to that? A once in a lifetime thing?"

Norrington looked at him. "Not that I am aware of," he said slowly. "I do not quite believe in such final ways of seeing things." Still, he didn't sound convinced.

"Trust me. Sometimes, you're only given one chance. Who should know that better than a pirate, eh?" Jack grinned again, and this time, Norrington couldn't hide a little smile.

"Indeed," he admitted, raising an eyebrow. "Clearly, you seem to be the expert."

Jack sensed the mockery in Norrington's words, but he chose to ignore it. It didn't sound deliberate, the way it had that day on the dock. It was dry, just that natural sarcasm Norrington possessed. Jack wondered if he saved it expressly for condemned pirates who commandeered his ships.

"I know that sometimes, you gotta take risks, make sacrifices an' maybe even lose to gain," he continued. "You have to decide what's more important to you. When I took that coin, I knew I wouldn't be the same again. A part of me died that day—immortality be damned. Why else do you think Barbossa an' his crew wanted to get rid of that bloody curse? It consumes, it makes you loony as a drunken albatross. But I knew that, an' still I wanted to try it." He paused. "You sure you don't know the feelin'? At all?"

He wasn't just telling a story; the words had been carefully chosen. It couldn't be that Norrington didn't understand and Jack didn't want to be even more obvious. Had this conversation never occurred, Jack would never have glimpsed under the frilled and brocaded facade. Commodore Norrington had become a human being, not just one of King George's puppets on a string.

Norrington nodded slowly, hesitantly. "I... I do believe I know the feeling."

Jack's face brightened. "Ah. See? An' did you take the risk or did you let the opportunity go to waste?"

Norrington lowered his gaze. "I did not take the risk. I did not believe it was worth it." His voice was low from the way he spoke, it was clear that Norrington had carefully pondered every single one before he had said it.

Jack wasn't too sure if the Commodore had really understood him. It seemed as if they were talking about entirely different matters. All Jack wanted was to bribe himself to freedom, but apparently, Norrington did not share his train of thoughts.

Really, this man had changed quite a bit during the past weeks. He had been so different when they had first met on the docks. Whatever problems he had, he had to rid himself of them as quickly as possible or they would destroy him. Maybe it required a bit of pirate wisdom to help? He couldn't explain why he suddenly cared, but somehow he felt that he needed to do something to preserve the only worthy opponent he had had in a decade. An unselfish act to accompany a selfish one, if you will. Give him a reason to be thankful and just allow him to leave.

"Commodore?" Jack would have put his arm on the other man' shoulder and give him a good little shake, but his arms wouldn't stretch that far through the iron bars of his prison cell.

Norrington looked up, sadness in his deep green eyes. He didn't say a word.

"If I may ask," Jack said, almost in the same tone the Commodore had used before. "What was the opportunity you missed, exactly?" It was not his business, of course, but for some strange and unaccountable reason, Jack's interest was roused.

"Happiness," Norrington said. Just that. Happiness.

Jack stared at him, thunderstruck. "What?" He certainly hadn't expected that. "If you mean the abduction of dear Miss Swann, I'd say there wasn't much you could do. The Pearl is faster than any of your ships an' you wouldn't have caught up with her even if you'd left Port Royal a week ago Sunday."

Norrington shook his head. "No, it is not that."

"What is it, then?"

The Commodore hesitated.

"Come on. You can tell me. Remember, I'm goin' to hang in the mornin' anyway, why not give me one last secret to feast on before me final hour?" Jack winked at him.

It was difficult to actually see that that Norrington was, in fact, giving him another little smile in answer to his comment, but Jack sensed it nevertheless. Black humour seemed to do the trick, and quite easily at that. Interesting.

"Very well," Norrington said. "But I advise you to keep your mouth shut about this, even if you should manage to escape the grip of the law once again—which I doubt, but apparently one can never be certain with you." His words were serious, but it seemed as if Norrington wasn't feeling as uncomfortable as Jack had expected. After all, he didn't really need much encouragement to stop beating about the bush. He appeared almost glad to be given a chance to speak his mind about things that one usually doesn't talk about.

"I abdicated my opportunity of happiness by proposing to Miss Swann," he continued in an earnest, slightly melancholy tone. "I knew she didn't love me. No, there is no need to pretend. And as far as that is concerned, I am as guilty as she is." Norrington paused. "It will be a marriage of political and social advantage but nothing more."

"No," Jack said, sensing the unsaid in Norrington's words. "It won't even be that." Not with a woman who changed sides just as she pleased. Not with a girl like Elizabeth Swann.

A rather long pause followed in which Jack was contemplating how he could turn that certainly unexpected confession into an advantage. He needed to get out. He wasn't born for prison cells, nor did he like the idea of hempen cravat. Or any cravat. He would encourage Norrington to talk, maybe to get his sympathy if he couldn't get his respect, and then discuss terms of freedom.

"You're right," Norrington said after a while and nodded. "It won't. I cannot force her into anything. I fear it is just a matter of time until she will tell me."

Jack pondered that. Elizabeth didn't love Norrington, that was evident. Jack knew very well that she had agreed to marry him to save Will, paying a little, temporary price to employ the trustworthy services of the Royal Navy. Now that Will was alive and kicking, her goal was reached. It was indeed just a matter of time, and Norrington was dreading it for some reason Jack didn't understand. Apparently, he didn't love Elizabeth either, so it should actually be a relief to him to call off the engagement. Why wasn't it?

"I did not risk acting against others' expectations of me. I proposed to her because everybody expected it and sacrificed my own desires for myself." Norrington sighed. "It was the wrong thing to do."

"But not everything's lost with you, mate," Jack said sympathetically. "There are other pearls in the Caribbean just waitin' for you to find them. Have you never been in love?"

Norrington smiled weakly. "I doubt I have any talent in attracting pearls. In any case, the humiliation will ensure that I will not be pearl-fishing."

Jack grinned despite himself. "Why not set your eye on the less valuable treasure then?" If he didn't control himself, he'd give that conversation a double entendre that would be impossible to erase. He had been prepared to offer a bribe, but he hadn't meant whoring himself out of prison. Not that he expected Norrington to fall for such an attempt in the first place. Jack was a bad substitute for Elizabeth and he knew it. Well—not necessarily bad, no. But unsuitable. Certainly nothing Norrington would pursue. Or would he?

If he could just resist teasing him. "A dirty, badly-sanded piece of amber might not be a precious thing but it could do the trick," he added, looking at the Commodore with deep dark eyes. Blast it all.

Norrington raised his eyebrow. "Is that so." He paused. "Well, I suppose I have claimed enough of your time," he said in a casual tone. "I shall leave you now."

He turned and left behind a completely bewildered Jack Sparrow.

Not for long, however. Two days later, with one day's head start, the Commodore went after the pirate.

Maybe it wasn't about sex or love, maybe not immediately. Maybe it was just about taking risks and making sacrifices to win.

And maybe it was none of all that. Maybe it was just because a chase is only exciting while it lasts—or so people say.