James awoke gradually, feeling incredibly relaxed—more so than usual. Despite almost ten years of living in the Caribbean, he still hadn't gotten accustomed to the heat. More often than not, he slept poorly and woke feeling less rested than when he had gone to bed. This morning, however, he stretched leisurely, arms reaching above his head until his knuckles grazed the headboard, and legs and back arching in sheer pleasure. Even his dreams had been pleasant ones. Vaguely remembered images of sailing on the deep blue sea, alone with the wind and sun on his face, flitted through his mind. James smiled contentedly. Even his morning erection twitched happily. If any of his dreams had been of an erotic nature he could not recall those, but his body had obviously enjoyed his sleep as much as he had. He slowly, indulgently took care of his release, wiping the residue from his hands and belly off with a corner of the sheet, and then he swung his legs out of the bed.

It was then that he finally noticed the chimes. He had been peripherally aware of the tinkling for some time, but it took until now to realize that it came from a cluster of shells hanging from his bedchamber window. He walked over to take a closer look. White, yellow and orange jingle shells, at least a dozen in total, were strung through with a fine thread and hung from a jagged piece of wood sticking out above his window. He touched them, barely drifting his fingertips over the small shells, and set them tinkling musically.

Puzzling as to how they had gotten there and why anyone had bothered, he realized he was standing in front of his window stark naked and hurriedly stepped back into the room. He washed and dressed and went downstairs.

His housekeeper had his breakfast ready when he arrived in the dining room.

"Good morning, Mrs. Ross."

"Morning, sir. Sleep well?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. Very well, thank you. By the way, Mrs. Ross, would you happen to know anything about the chimes hanging from my bedchamber window?"

"Chimes? No, sir. Are there chimes in your room?"

"Yes, and I'm certain they weren't there when I retired for the night."

"That is strange, sir."

"Indeed. I wonder if Halton knows about them?"

"I'll ask him, if you like."

"Please do that." He ate his breakfast and was just finishing his coffee when his manservant, Halton, entered. "Ah, Halton. Do you know where the chimes in my room came from?"

"Mrs. Ross just asked me about them and I went upstairs to take a look, sir. Never saw them before."

"Hmm. This is odd and getting stranger. Chimes simply do not grow from one's window casement."

"No, sir."

James thanked and dismissed him. He needed to get to the fort to start his day's work.

#

The first thing he noticed upon his arrival at his office was the tiny piece of carved jade sitting in the centre of his desk. Even before he picked it up he saw that it closely resembled a dolphin, and he could imagine it arcing out of the water. It was about two inches long and the craftsmanship was exquisite. He rubbed his fingers along its smooth lines and marvelled at the beauty of the piece. Then his lieutenants arrived for their daily briefing.

"Good morning, Commodore," they chorused, cheerful as they were every morning. He thought he knew the reason for their continual good mood, but was waiting for the day they confessed it to him.

He greeted them in turn. "Gentleman, have either of you seen this piece of jade before this moment?" He watched them carefully. Of the two, Theo Groves was more skilled at subterfuge and at hiding his thoughts. Today, however, it was plain he knew nothing of the origins of the jade.

They both denied having set eyes on it before and he believed them. With a barely suppressed sigh he told them of the chimes in his bedchambers.

"That is peculiar," Andrew Gillette mused. "But if someone is leaving you gifts, at least they seem to be ones of a pleasant nature."

"Indeed, James," Theo added. "If I were you I would accept them gladly and wait to see if another appears later."

"I cannot complain of the nature of the gifts—if that is what they are—but it still leaves me to wonder as to who is leaving them."

"Perhaps a secret admirer?" Andrew suggested with a lift of his eyebrows. "A young woman from the town?"

James momentarily caught Theo's eye. His friend was privy to something Andrew was not, and that was that James would rather learn that a young man from the town was showing a romantic interest in him. One day he would tell Gillette the truth but, as they did not enjoy quite the same level of friendship as James did with Theo, that day would have to wait until he was more comfortable with the idea of sharing such a private part of his life.

"Perhaps, but how did this mysterious young... woman get into my house and my office without being seen?"

Neither of the lieutenants had an answer for that. With one last caress of the cool jade, James put it aside and picked up the day's business.

#

The next thing to arrive on a desk was a piece of driftwood about a foot long. He studied it intently, wondering at its significance. The first two items were aesthetically appealing. This was... a piece of wood. He turned it over in his hands a few times until he spotted it. There, in the heart of it, worn by time and tide, was a naturally shaped picture of a schooner in full sail, racing before the wind. He smiled to himself. He was getting fanciful now, but he could see the ship as clearly as if it had been drawn on paper with a piece of charcoal.

He placed the driftwood on a shelf near his desk where he could see it.

#

Item number four was a gold earring resting on top of a sheaf of reports. A fairly large but simply shaped hoop, it shone brightly in the sunlight streaming in over his shoulder.

"Hardly a feminine piece of jewellery, is it?" Theo commented.

"If it's meant for me to wear, I should hope not," James replied bemusedly turning it over with his fingers.

"Why don't you place a guard on your door and catch the person who is doing this?" Gillette asked.

Keeping his eyes on the earring James said, "I think that is a good idea yet I cannot help but feel it would be rude to do so. If whoever is doing this is doing it out a sense of... affection forcing their hand seems wrong."

"Should I place a guard?" Theo asked.

"Yes."

Of course, after the posting of the guard no more gifts appeared in the office. Feeling vaguely disappointed as well as ashamed James resolutely put the incidents aside and concentrated on sorting through intelligence reports on piratical activity in his waters.

#

Three days after the gold earring's appearance, he found an intricately drawn map of an island he did not recognize. It was on the desk in his study at home, and it came with directions on how to get there and instructions that he was to come alone on the fifteenth of the month. The fifteenth was in four days. He could get there within a day's travel if he took his sloop. His heart beating slightly faster in anticipation of the day he would finally meet this mysterious person, he tried not to get too excited about it. Of course that only caused him to become more anxious.

#

A pretty little lagoon proved to be the perfect place for him to sail his sloop within swimming distance of the beach. He anchored there and splashed his way ashore, soaking his breeches and shirt. He'd forgone a waistcoat or any of his usual armour; in fact, he abandoned shoes and stockings on the sloop and waded ashore bareheaded, barefoot and barelegged. Instinct guided him in all things now, at least until he solved this beguiling mystery. He was, however, armed. He was not a stupid man.

Once he gained the beach he stood looking for a sign that he was not alone. It had occurred to him more than once that someone might be playing tricks on him. That was why it had taken him until last night to decide to go through with this scenario. The idea that he was being played for the fool weighed unbearably on his mind. In his youth he had given his heart to a lad his own age only to find himself the target of cruel laughter by his would-be lover and the boy's cronies. It wasn't until he met Elizabeth Swann did he dare to even look for the courage to fall in love again, let alone take the chance of allowing another person to know how he felt. Her rejection stung again as it had the first time and he flushed hotly in his misery and embarrassment.

"Come now. Why such a sad face?"

James spun in a circle looking for the owner of that voice.

"Up here."

He looked up. Lounging along the branch of a banyan tree was Jack Sparrow.

Rage filled James, heating from his core outward while it flared and grew into an inferno. He had been made a fool of again!

He glared impotently at the pirate in the tree, hand gripping the hilt of his sword without knowing when he had unsheathed the blade.

Sparrow waved his hand nonchalantly, further enraging James.

"Tell me why you looked so sad a moment ago? Although now, if looks could kill... Is that murderous look directed at me?"

"Yes," James managed through clenched teeth.

"Why? What did I do except invite you here to partake of a fine repast?" Sparrow gestured with his hand again. When James followed it he noticed a blanket spread out in the shade, and more food than any two people could consume in one sitting arranged on it. A bottle of wine and two of rum were also present.

His fury stuttered and confusion began to grow.

"Why?"

"Eh? That's what I said."

"Why did you invite me here?" His brain finally caught up with the evidence before his eyes and he slowly began to realize that perhaps, just perhaps, the invitation was genuine and not a ploy to make a mockery of his feelings. But then his innate suspicious nature reared its ugly head. This was a pirate he was dealing with, after all.

"For a Navy man you are certainly transparent in your feelings. What happened to the stiff upper lip you English are so fond of? I can read all of your thoughts on your face. You don't trust me, do you?"

"You are a pirate," James managed a trace of his normal smugness.

"Yes?" Sparrow's tone silently added the weight of "And?" "So?" At James's continued silence, he said, "Stay there. I'll be right down."

With that he slithered gracefully out of the tree and then sashayed awkwardly across the sand towards James.

"Right. Now let's start over. Did you enjoy the gifts?" Dark eyes blinked at James.

Deciding he might as well be gracious, James said, "Yes, the chimes are soothing."

"Do they help you sleep?"

"I've enjoyed nights more restful than any since I came to Jamaica," he replied somewhat grudgingly.

Jack nodded. "What about the dolphin?"

"It's beautiful."

"Picked that up in Singapore."

"The driftwood is a natural masterpiece."

"Thought you might like that one."

"The earring... " he paused.

"Yes?"

"I'm not sure about it. What possessed you to give me an earring?"

"Thought you might look good with a hoop through your ear."

"I cannot wear such a thing. It is forbidden by the dress code of the Royal Navy."

"So wear it when you're off duty."

James shook his head. "That would require having a hole put in my ear."

"That it would."

"I'm sorry. I cannot do that."

"Sure you could. I could do it for you." He made a move towards James who backed off hastily, hands up to ward him away.

"No! Thank you." When the pirate stepped back to what James deemed a safe distance, James asked, "Why did you leave me those things?"

Looking beseechingly up into James's face, the pirate said, "I like you, mate. Told you I was rooting for you with the lass. Too bad she threw you over, but at least this way it leaves you free for me."

"For you?"

"Aye." Staring at James like that the pirate looked like he might be serious.

Ever so slowly James realized that he was serious. "You like me?" He repeated.

"Aye. I like you... that way." A golden smile punctuated that revelation. "Have since I set eyes on you on the dock in Port Royal—until you had me clapped in irons for rescuing your fiancée, just because I'm a pirate." As James felt his pleasure slipping away Sparrow must have noticed for he started flapping his hands and jabbered, "Let's not talk about that. Let's concentrate on my feelings for you."

James's brows knitted together. "You have feelings for me?"

"Oh, aye. A pretty lad like yourself? Of course. No question about it. They're not particularly deep ones—yet—but they are heartfelt."

"I don't follow."

"It's like this," the pirate dared to move closer and threw an arm around James's shoulders. "I can always appreciate pretty things."

"That is the second time you have referred to me as "pretty". Men are not pretty."

"Have you seen yourself in a looking glass? That face of yours, those long, long legs, those fine long fingers. That lovely round... " He didn't finish that thought verbally, but rather leaned around to ogle said lovely round part of James's anatomy.

James's face grew hot. He wasn't accustomed to anyone showing such blatant sexual interest in his body or stating it so boldly. If a woman dared to speak in this manner she would be labelled a whore. But this was Jack Sparrow, after all, an eccentric man at the very least and a pirate. James did not know him well, but their past acquaintance had prepared him somewhat for the man's odd ways.

"I noticed you didn't offer to clap me in irons and drag me off to your jail."

"You are hardly putting ideas into my head," James warned.

Sparrow laughed outright at that. "As if you hadn't thought of it the moment you saw me here."

"What's to stop me from arresting you now?"

"Curiosity."

"Indeed?" James intoned.

"Aye. You're wonderin' what could happen between us. That's the idea that I put into your head. I've started courting you and you're thinkin' maybe it'd be worth it."

"How do you even know I'm interested in you... that way?"

Shrugging, Sparrow said, "I don't for sure, but I felt something. Don't tell me you didn't feel it too."

James closed his eyes briefly and breathed slowly through his nose. Then he looked again and said, "When we clasped hands on the dock the day you rescued Elizabeth from drowning."

"Aye." That was said so softly James was startled into staring deeply into the dark, dark eyes peering up at him. "And again in the longboat at Isla de Muerta."

"And just before you fell from the battlements."

"Jumped. I jumped. Let's make that clear."

James looked heavenward.

The pirate shimmied closer and James's heart began beating faster again with his increased proximity to the man. That "something" Sparrow referred to was working its magic again. Sparrow leaned closer and James knew he was going to try to kiss him. James's lips began to part in anticipation. Sparrow—Jack—drew closer. They were a hairsbreadth apart. Jack's hot breath tickled James's face and eyelashes.

James stepped back and turned to walk away. Jack yelped in surprise and hurriedly caught his arm, stained fingers dark against the white of the handful of shirt in his grip.

"Hold on! Where y'going?"

"To my sloop and then to Port Royal."

"You're not gonna stay?"

"Not this time," James said over his shoulder and strode out into the sea until he was waist deep.

As he swam back to his boat he heard, "Wait! What d'ye mean "Not this time"?"

James climbed aboard the sloop, winched up the anchor and then cupped his hands around his mouth to yell, "You're doing fine so far!"

He watched Jack stride back and forth in the sand, staggering a little now and then, and waving his arms around as he argued with an absent Commodore. Finally, he stopped.

His bewildered cry easily flew over the water to reach the sloop. "Ye want to be courted some more?!"

James merely held up a hand in response. Jack did the same but gave him the back of his. James chuckled and turned to the business of sailing home.

#

The truth of the matter was James was afraid. He was afraid of having his heart broken yet again. This way he maintained some control of the situation. While he could admit that he was attracted to Jack Sparrow, if the pirate decided he was not interested in pursuing him James would be disappointed but he would also be safe from the treacherous waters of romance. If Jack decided to continue courting him James could let it progress as much as he felt was comfortable. He realized he sounded like a maid insisting her suitor behave in as certain courtly manner, but he was accustomed to being in charge of a given situation, and this way he could protect himself from being hurt. He liked to think he had a thick skin, but there was no sense in putting his emotions in turmoil if it was not necessary.

Besides, it could be fun to sit back and wait for whatever Jack's cockeyed imagination came up with to impress him. He wasn't planning on waiting too long, however. Romance wasn't the only reward he hoped for. He was a healthy male with needs. James could think of worse partners than the intriguing pirate.

#

A month passed, and then another ten days, but Jack did not appear in Port Royal or send any messages. There were no reports of him anywhere near Jamaican waters.

Apparently, Jack did not think him worth the effort after all. It was for the best, of course. To take up with a pirate was insanity and could be the end of his career.

James pushed the entire incident—and his fledgling hopes and desire—out of his mind so he could concentrate on ridding the area of the pirates who deserved to hang. Sparing one last thought about Jack, James was thankful he was gone.

#

The morning the book appeared on his dining room table he dared to hope again. It was a first edition of Shakespearean sonnets, leather bound and gilt-edged in perfect condition. Inside the front cover, in a surprisingly elegant scrawl, were the words, "Nothing so trite as how do I compare thee to a summer's day, but rather every word within extolling the virtues of love are nothing compared to your great and noble heart, which I hope to someday claim as mine." JS.

James had to admit that as declarations of love went that was a good one. He did wonder, however, how Sparrow... Jack had gone from lust to love?

#

A ruby the size of a walnut showed up on his dressing table three mornings later. James turned it over and over between thumb and forefinger, holding it against the light. It was impressive in size and highly ostentatious. It was not something he could have made into a pin for his cravat and not draw unwanted attention to himself. How could he explain it away?

It was then that he acknowledged that he did not want jewels and trinkets. He wanted to get to know Jack better.

#

How to find someone as elusive as his would-be lover? James had no real idea of where Jack spent his time, but Tortuga seemed as good a place to start as any. He decided to set out at the end of the week to find Jack.

He never got the chance.

#

Waking up on a hard wooden deck with a headache that would surely split his skull from the inside, James peered up into the bright Jamaican sun and shielded his eyes. That did not help, so he simply covered his eyes with both hands and hoped it would be night and winter when he lowered his hands. That way the sun would not hurt his eyes and he could stick his head in a snow bank to ease the pounding in his head.

"... m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

James peered out between his fingers. Sparrow was dancing around him, agitated beyond reason.

"Jack."

"James?"

"What have you done?"

"It wasn't me!" Jack waved his hands around. "We saw you put into Tortuga. I told Gibbs and Anamaria to find you and let me know where you were, not to bash you over the head!"

"We didn't hit him. When we approached him he tried to slice me with his sword. Slim Burt from the Bride came up behind him with a bottle. Defended my honour, he did." That was the voice of the woman who was with the vaguely familiar looking man.

"Was the bottle full?" Jack sounded almost as concerned about the bottle as he had about James.

James had heard enough. He lowered his hands and struggled to sit up. Jack leaned down and helped him all the way to his feet. So he was on a ship, the slight rise and fall of a calm sea under his feet. James bent his head forward but looked up through a fringe of hair, noting the brand new black-dyed sails. Damn things probably attracted the heat like nothing else.

"How're y'feeling, love?"

"What am I doing on the Pearl?"

"We brought you here," he replied as if that explained everything. At James pointed look Jack expanded on that explanation. "We couldn't leave you there bleedin' all over the street!"

James hand went instinctively to the back of his head. His hair was matted and a bit sticky. His fingertips came away tinged with blood. He glared at Jack.

"Not my fault! I love you. Why would I order you to be hurt?"

Still lightly prodding the sore spot, James shot Jack a sudden look of shock, abruptly remembering the sonnets and the inscription. It was still astonishing to learn of the strength of Jack's feelings.

"You love me? Since when?"

The sailor Jack called Gibbs—James searched his memory and came up with a first name of Joshamee, formerly of the Dauntless, seemed to feel he was part of this conversation.

"Thought you were gonna tell him how you feel, Jack."

"I did, months ago."

"You said nothing of love at that time," James interrupted. "You said your feelings were "not particularly deep yet". When did they progress to love?"

"Aye, Jack," Anamaria put in. "You didn't say you'd fallen in love with a bloody Commodore of the British Navy!"

His patience snapping, James rounded on the two sailors. "Do you mind? This is between Jack and me."

They stared at him in surprise. Then Anamaria shot him an equally angry look but backed off, taking Gibbs with her. James waited until he was relatively sure they were out of earshot, and he drew a deep breath before turning again to Jack.

Jack tipped his head and slanted his eyes to one side. "Come with me and I'll explain."

James followed him across the deck, down some steps and finally through a door into what was obviously the Captain's quarters. His surroundings were not as important to him as what Jack had to say.

Pacing to the far side of the cabin and then turning to face James, the pirate said, "I kept away from you for some weeks because I needed to know if my infatuation was headed towards the real thing. You might not believe this," he said in a conspiratorial whisper and leaning closer to James, "but I usually love 'em and leave 'em. Got slapped for it a few times, too."

"No. Really."

Jack eyed James suspiciously, as if trying to decide if he was being sarcastic. James kept a straight face, pleased with his own dry delivery of the two words.

Apparently deciding to go on despite his confusion Jack said, "Anyway, you deserve better."

Despite himself, James could not deny his need to hear it one more time and asked, "And what was the result of your soul-searching?"

Jack took a step towards him and then another; hips swaying and hands waving hypnotically. It was the sparkle in his dark eyes that captivated James. Unable to look away he realized with a start that suddenly Jack was so close his breath warmed James's face.

"The result is that I love you, love. I found I could not bear to be away from you for so long. We were headed back to Port Royal so I could proposition you, when the lookout spied your sloop making for Tortuga. Pretty little ship she is, too. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to find out who was the bold traveller. We got close enough that I could tell it was you—you have a distinctive way of moving, did you know that?"

"Pot calling the kettle black," James couldn't help saying so but Jack grinned at him, so it was all right. After a beat James grinned back, awash with a sense of relief the likes of which he was totally unfamiliar with.

"Aye. There is that. But you surprised me because when you wear your uniform you're so stiff and formal. When you're dressed like this," Jack ran his hand up and down James's arm, ruffling the linen sleeve of his shirt and groping a quick feel of James's bicep, "you move much freer, but there's still enough of the Commodore there to be recognizable from a distance."

Fighting the urge to smile James said, "Also, you saw me in civilian clothing that day on your island. And you would never forget the lines of a ship, even a small sloop such as mine."

Jack laughed. "So I did, so I wouldn't and so much for my powers of deduction. But that is our island, dear James."

This time James did smile. Then he reached out and slid his right hand under the heavy hair, cupped the back of Jack's neck and tugged him closer.

"It's time to take this further."

"Or closer," Jack added, his lips already pursing.

"Or closer," James agreed and leaned in.

Their first kiss was sweet and tentative, as if they were both afraid of demanding too much too soon. James knew he felt that way but through the kiss he sensed the truth of Jack's feelings for him, and it freed that last obstacle within his soul.

"I do believe that I love you too, Jack Sparrow. Heaven knows why but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough," he murmured into Jack's eager mouth.

He tried and failed to kiss Jack's smile right off his face. That was all right, though. There was plenty of time to practice. He hoped it was something he never quite achieved. Jack fervently kissed him back while one of his hands slipped around to James's lower back, dropped down further and gently squeezed. James reached back and gripped him by the wrist, holding him there.

# end