"Do you have plans for Christmas, James?"

Commodore Norrington studied the face of Elizabeth Turner. She and Will had been trying so hard of late to befriend him. They had invited him to dinner several times in the last month. Apparently turning them down was not an option. At first he had said no, because despite knowing Elizabeth for more than ten years he did not know her well enough to be comfortable around her. He had accepted the invitation once and found that it wasn't a horrible way to spend a few hours, and he actually liked the two of them together as a married couple. They complemented each other and were maturing into kind, lovely people.

Now that he thought about it, proposing marriage to Elizabeth had been foolhardy in the extreme. Finding a wife had once been a priority, a duty, considering his rank and standing in Port Royal, but he was not one to burden his life with awkward attachments. Being forced to socialize with strangers was bad enough, but living with a stranger would be unbearable. Of course, he had then thought himself to be in love with her. Now he loved another.

Speaking carefully so as not to commit himself to anything he said, "I have plans, yes."

Undaunted, she replied, "Will and I are having Christmas dinner by ourselves, as Father is spending the day with Marissa's family. Since they are nearly betrothed he thought it best to get to know her brother and his wife and children. As it's Will and my first Christmas together we wanted to start our own traditions, such as inviting friends to at least eat a meal with us. You wouldn't have to stay all day if you don't wish to, James, but you are certainly welcome to do so. We would love to have you."

Frowning slightly, James thought it over. She sounded sincere but he knew her well enough that he was wary of hidden agendas.

Elizabeth touched his arm lightly. "Please say you will come over."

"I usually spend time with some of my men, but I could stop by for a short while... "

"Excellent! Dinner will be at five. Don't bother with a gift. Your presence will be present enough. Oh!" She laughed at her own witticism and James found he was smiling at it as well. When she hurried off he watched her go, feeling less anxious about the prospect of spending Christmas dinner with the Turners. He supposed it would do him some good to get to know them better.

Then his good spirits dipped lower as he thought about how he had hoped to spend Christmas with Jack Sparrow. His lover could not guarantee that he would be back in time for them to be together. The crew of the Black Pearl wanted to spend it in Tortuga where most of them had family. Jack had promised to sail there long before he and James had gotten involved. Their first Christmas as a couple could be a cold and lonely one for them both.

#

James let the curtains fall into place as he finally turned away from the window. No sign of Jack. His unpredictable, sneaky lover never simply walked up to the front door, which was why James was upstairs in his bedroom looking out on the garden. If Jack were out there he would come through the protective cover of the fruit trees so he could climb up the branches to the second floor. James took a moment to let his eyes search once more through his small grove of mango, papaya and star apple, and to breathe in the heady scent of ginger. He closed his eyes and sighed. There was nothing for it but to head out to the Turners.

He left the house walking slowly, but resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder for a glimpse of Jack. It would be too childish to scuff his feet in the dirt, so he kept his head up and his back straight. The Turners lived a short distance away, so he was standing on their doorstep ten minutes later, hesitant to knock yet now reluctant to return to his empty home. Making his decision he squared his shoulders and rapped twice on the scarred door. The two-bedroom cottage was several notches below the Governor's mansion and at least two notches above the blacksmith shop, but it was a comfortable home. Both of its residents worked hard to make it that way.

The door opened and Will stepped into view. He greeted James with a friendly smile and gestured him inside. They shook hands as James crossed the threshold.

"I'm pleased you could make it, James."

"Glad to be here, Will. Thank you for inviting me. This is for after dinner." He handed over a bottle of fine brandy that he'd been saving for a special occasion.

Accepting the gift Will said, "It wasn't necessary to bring a present."

James shrugged it off with a small smile and followed his host further into the house. As he walked he felt some of his sadness lift and he began to relax. He always forgot how being around his two friends was a boon to his natural tendency to shut himself off from others. Elizabeth hurried out of the kitchen, her hair a bit mussed as she hastily removed an apron from around her waist. She rushed right up to James and impulsively hugged him. After a second of surprise James hugged her back, flushing like a schoolboy.

"Forgive my appearance, James. I'm in the middle of something."

"You're cooking dinner?" She had cooked the other dinners he had attended but they had been simple affairs. He suspected she was going to pull out all the stops today.

"The entire thing," she announced. "And it will be good! Please sit down and make yourself at home."

"James brought brandy," Will showed her the bottle.

She read the label. "The good stuff. Well done, James. Unnecessary but most welcome."

She hurried back to her kitchen, taking the brandy with her, and Will lead James to the parlour. As they sat down he remarked, "I have a feeling she'll drink most of that later by herself. She's been in a complete frenzy all day but seems to be enjoying herself immensely."

"I hope she isn't going to too much trouble on my account." James glanced towards the kitchen where the sounds of pots banging and dishes rattling emanated.

"She is, but it'll be worth it."

He chatted with Will until Elizabeth reappeared in less of a hurry. Her hair had been tidied and her dress neatened. She plopped herself down next to her husband and smiled at James.

"Don't you look handsome today, James. You look so much younger without your uniform."

Glancing down at his informal clothing James replied with a chuckle, "Without the white wig, you mean. It does tend to age one."

"But you're so dashing in that uniform," Elizabeth assured him.

James wondered where she was headed with this conversation. He felt vaguely uncomfortable talking about his appearance. The way both Turners were grinning at him made him question whether they had already indulged in too much liquid Christmas spirit.

"We've been terribly concerned about you, James," Elizabeth said. "I admit to feeling somewhat guilty about turning down your marriage proposal."

"But you did nothing of the sort. I was the one who released you from the commitment of accepting it in the first place." Or second place, he added to himself.

"It's kind of you to say. I... we are still worried that you spend too much time alone, when you are off duty. That, plus the fact that we have known you for years and yet know little about you personally, led us to want to get to know you better. Oh, could I have said that any more awkwardly!" She clenched her hands in consternation.

Wanting to put her at ease, James reached out and patted the back of her right hand. She immediately turned hers over to capture his palm to palm. He applied a bit of pressure to convey everything would be all right and then attempted to slide his hand free from hers, but she clung to him. Alarmed at the continued contact, the intense expression on her face and the odd gleam in Will's eye, James tried again to free himself. Elizabeth held fast.

"James, we wanted to give you something special for the holiday."

"Oh? H-how special?" He managed with effort to keep his normal baritone from climbing into the soprano range.

"We're offering you our home," Will told him, "as a place of sanctuary. He added hastily, "It was Elizabeth's idea, but if you are all right with it, then I am as well."

"I, I don't understand. Your home, you are offering me your home as a sanctuary?" He was totally lost now.

"Yes," they chorused wearing nearly identical smiles.

James stared back at them. He reclaimed his hand from Elizabeth at last.

"I do apologize for seeming particularly stupid today, but I really don't understand."

"We want you to feel at ease here, James," Will explained. "Anytime you need some privacy you can come here."

"Ah," James said as if he understood at last, which he did not. "I do have my own home, you know, as much as your offer is greatly appreciated."

The Turners exchanged glances. Elizabeth said, "Perhaps privacy is not the word we mean. That is to say, if you feel the need to indulge yourself in some pleasures, we want you to feel that you can come here."

James's eyebrows vanished into his hairline. He understood now. Hastily, he got to his feet.

"I assure you, I will do no such thing!"

Will and Elizabeth also stood up but they looked as confused as he had felt a few moments earlier.

"But, James... "

"I must be leaving now. Thank you for... " He stopped, completely at a loss as to what he was thanking them for. Apart from a few minutes of pleasant conversation, so far they had offered him sex. Horrified and shocked beyond thinking about it, he strode towards the door.

"James, wait!"

He heard them coming after him. He yanked the door open and someone dressed in a gaudy green and gold and red something or other tumbled inside and into his arms. He caught the person and set him or her back on their feet. James would have simply charged past and out of the cottage if they had not gotten in his way. Hands clung to his arms and feet tripped him up. Finally, he stopped trying to leave and stepped backwards. That brought him up against a Turner whose hands went to his waist, and he leapt forward again like a pig stuck with a fork. This time he fetched up against the visitor, his nose getting squashed in soft dark hair while his arms involuntarily wrapped around the slight body right in front of him. The familiar scent of spices and rum permeated his brain and he finally wound down to a complete standstill.

"Jack?"

His lover gazed up at him in delighted surprise.

"Jamie!" Jack's black eyes peered around James's shoulder. "I mean, Commodore! Oh my." That last exclamation was less than sincere and Jack shrugged apologetically. He gave the Turners another wary look. Neither he nor James let go of one another, so it was all for naught anyway.

James studied his lover's outfit. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before—a longish cut suit coat of green and gold with a vaguely Mandarin collar that stood up to his chin. There was a red vest of some sort under it and the breeches were green and shot through with gold thread. The entire thing was... shiny. On his feet was a pair of shoes with large gold buckles shaped somewhat like bows. Jack's hair was freshly washed and braided, and devoid of his usual scarlet headscarf. The trinkets were in their usual places, although there was a new one over his right ear. It looked like a plant with white berries in it. He thought he knew what it was but the clothing distracted him.

"What on earth... ?"

"From the other side of the earth, dear Commodore. Sir." Jack smiled ingratiatingly, putting on a show for the Turners. "Bought it in the East. The Far East."

"Bought it?" James asked sceptically.

"Aye. Bought it," he said firmly. "To wear for Christmas."

Elizabeth interrupted. "I'm so glad you could make it, Jack."

"So I can be arrested and hanged?" Jack asked his eyes locked with James's.

"We know, Jack. James, forgive us?" Elizabeth sounded upset.

"Will you please, just this once, speak plainly?" James begged. His head was pounding from all of the confusing talk this afternoon.

"Come inside?" she asked.

Neither Jack nor James was keen on going back inside the cottage, though James' reasons were perhaps more legitimate than Jack's. The pirate surreptitiously winked at him. He was still acting his part. James was genuinely reluctant to enter the den of iniquity. He allowed himself to be coaxed inside at least far enough so that the door could be closed. He remained near it so as to make good his escape at the earliest opportunity.

The Turners stood shoulder to shoulder and had the grace to look embarrassed.

"A few weeks ago we went to the Fort to speak with you, James," Elizabeth said.

"I don't recall such a visit."

"That's because when we got there you were otherwise occupied... in your office."

When that failed to jog James's memory he indicated that she should continue. She took a deep breath and said, "You were occupied with Jack... in your lap... in your office."

James shot a look at Jack who looked bewildered and concerned. They'd been seen. Who else might have witnessed Jack coming or going from the office?

"Don't worry, James," Will assured him. "No one else was around at the time. However, my wife decided to befriend you and then offer our home as a... "

"Sanctuary," James finished for him, feeling a sudden and tremendous sense of relief.

"For you and Jack. If you ever need it."

Elizabeth added, "I wanted you to feel comfortable here, enough so that you and Jack could meet here and not feel awkward about it."

"Jack has been visiting us since the day after you tried to hang him."

James quirked an eyebrow at his lover. "Has he?"

Jack smiled sheepishly back at him.

"I thought perhaps he might have attached himself to you both." He smiled to show that he was fine with the situation.

Jack's face transformed into one of a man completely in love—with him. Jack was in love with him. He had hoped so but had not dared to voice his own feelings yet. Their liaison was still in the exploratory stages. There was lust and desire—certainly, but he had thought the love was on his side only. He blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision and reached for Jack's hand. Their fingers tangled and they stood there gazing at one another.

Will cleared his throat. "We had no way of contacting Jack to let him know you were here today, but knew that if he came into port he would eventually make his way here, especially if he did not find you at home."

"Well, are you staying for dinner?" Elizabeth asked. "The roast is nearly ready."

"Good food, good company. Let's eat!" Jack eagerly led the way to the dining room, tugging James along with him. "I brought presents!"

#

The meal was a great success and was eaten with gusto. They sat in the parlour for a few hours, establishing a solid friendship among the four of them with talk and laughter—a great deal of laughter. As he and Jack were getting ready to leave, Elizabeth stopped James. "What made you so agitated earlier? Before Jack got here?"

"Merely a misunderstanding," he answered, praying she would not pursue the subject. "Jack, are you ready to go?"

"Just a moment, love." He sidled up to Elizabeth and pecked her on the cheek. "Thank you for the wonderful meal, darlin'. You are an excellent cook. Be sure to fatten up that man of yours."

They left the cottage and walked home in the dark. No one was about the streets on this night and they safely reached the house a short time later. As he let them inside, James remarked lightly, "This must be the first time you've entered my house through the front door."

"Tis the first time I've entered the house through any door," Jack replied cheekily.

"Pirate."

"That's me."

Closing the door and lighting a candle to show their way upstairs, James said, "Are you going to tell me why you are wearing a plant in your hair? Is that mistletoe?"

"Oh!" Jack's hand went unerringly to the bit of greenery and he removed it. "You do know the tradition associated with mistletoe, don't you?"

By way of answer James lightly grasped Jack's wrist and lifted his hand over their heads. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against those of his lover. Jack's normally chapped lips were smooth and tasted of roasted pig. James licked the taste off his own lips.

"I used some of the grease from dinner to make 'em soft for you," Jack confessed. "Do... ?" Whatever he had been about to say was cut off when James kissed him again, and more thoroughly this time. Before they parted they licked each other's lips.

"Mmm."

"Mm hmm."

"I haven't given you your present yet, love."

"Later. First I want to unwrap this one." James held out his hand and Jack took it, allowing James to take him upstairs.

#

Their sweaty bodies rolled apart on the throw rug next to the bed. James put his arms over his head as he lay there panting. Jack flopped down next to him but then rolled back to lean over him. His knee pushed between James's legs. He trailed his fingers across James's chest, tracing the tattoo of the hawk. James had gotten his body marked for him one not-drunken night in Tortuga. The hawk was a mate to Jack's sparrow tattoo. James watched his lover's face in the fading light of the sputtering candle that sat on the floor nearby. It's a wonder they hadn't set fire to the house by dropping it there. James's dark green suit coat and tan breeches were in opposite corners of the room. Jack's shiny outfit was mostly in one spot although a bit close to the candle. He nudged it away with his foot.

Jack seemed lost in thought as he played with James's chest hair.

"Jamie," he spoke at last. "I love you."

His throat tight with emotion, James nodded wordlessly before getting out the words he'd longed to say for weeks. "I love you, too, Jack."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Happy Christmas, Jamie."

"And it looks to be a very merry New Year."

# end