“Will, my love, what are you thinking?” Elizabeth
asked from her position curled against his chest.
   They stood on the sand watching the sun set,
Elizabeth in his arms. Less than 15 yards away stood
her new maid Peggy, an older, stern woman who was
determined not to let them have more privacy than they
could possibly manage. Governor Swann didn’t want them
to do anything “imprudent” considering their wedding
day was at least another 6 months off.
   Will sighed and opened his mouth to answer then
stopped as the voice in the back of his head warned
him, “There are three questions, son, that all females
will ask o’ ye that ye mus’ rarely answer with the
truth: where were you las’ night, what are you
thinkin’, and who was that whose name ye called out
las’ night. Either change the subject or lie, lie,
lie. Ye’d be best off jus’ changin’ the subject; I
seen ye lie an’ ‘tis mos’ pathetic.” Then again, he
thought, Jack was always being slapped by women. How
good could his record be? “I was just thinking about
Jack, actually.”
   Elizabeth straightened and pulled away abruptly.
“You were what?”
   Will reached down and caught her hands in his to
keep her from slapping him then spoke brightly. “I was
just wondering if we should invite Jack to the
wedding. Then again, which side of the church would he
sit on? Yours or mine?”
   Elizabeth gave him that look that said he wasn’t
much better at lying now than he had been 3 months ago
when Jack Sparrow tried to make a pirate of him. “Oh,
really? Well, maybe he won’t be sitting on either
side. James might have something to say about his
presence here at Port Royal now that he’s returned.
That bloody pirate held him captive for almost 2
months. God knows what torture he put him through!”
   Will nodded, “Yes, I hadn’t thought of that. I
just-Well, I just assumed that Jack should be invited.
We are practically family, blood-brothers of a sort.”
   Will turned his left hand palm up to reveal the
thin scar where the amber knife had sliced him open so
his blood could mingle with Jack’s before covering the
coins and falling into the Aztec chest. The scar
tingled slightly, a slight reminder of the burning
agony it had caused him inexplicably a fortnight or so
earlier. For several days he’d been nearly unable to
use the hand thanks to the pain but there was nothing
wrong that the physician could find so Will had
resumed his work on the swords that had been
commissioned, the nails and other household iron
pieces that paid the bills, and the special sword he’d
kept hidden from everyone.
   “Your hand’s still bothering you?” Elizabeth asked,
her fingers moving across the palm reminding him of
Jack’s hand on his shoulder. 
   “Just a bit,” He said and caught her hand in both
of his. “Not enough to trouble with. Have you chosen
the fabric for your gown?”
   He let her launch into the details, the words
washing by him like the ocean breeze, and smiled
slightly, pretending to be listening just so they
could stay near. He had loved her from afar for so
long that loving her so close was miraculous to him.
The voice intruded in the back of his mind, though.
“But pirate’s in yer blood, boy, and someday ye’ll
have to square with that. Can you sail under the
command of a pirate? Or can ye not?” He reached out
and stroked a few stray hairs back from Elizabeth’s
cheek but the eyes that he envisioned gazing back at
him weren’t hers. They were wickedly black and full of
such a gamut of emotions and experiences that they
were impossibly deep. He blinked and Elizabeth’s brown
eyes appeared, concern quite evident.
   “Are you all right, Will? I asked you if you
thought I should have a gown of silk or velvet.”
   Will shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing,
letting Jack speak for him. “Sorry, love, I just got
distracted by yer-your skin—such softness. I leave all
those decisions to you. I’m a blacksmith. Ask me if
copper or iron is better for your cooking pot and that
I can answer.”
   Elizabeth smiled at him and leaned forward to kiss
him lightly on the lips. “You keep saying you’re a
blacksmith but I know a pirate when I see one. Oh,
drat! Peggy’s signaling that it’s time to go. Will you
be coming to tea tomorrow? The Commodore will be
there. Maybe he’ll talk about what pirate life is
really like.”
   “You didn’t get enough of it?” Will asked, his eyes
slightly wary now that Elizabeth had invoked
Norrington’s specter. “It was a grand adventure but we
need to settle into our real lives now, don’t we?”
   Elizabeth smiled and stroked his cheek.  “If I keep
my feet on dry land, Mr. Turner, why can I not let my
dreams sail the ocean, hmmm?”
   “I suppose there’s no reason not to, my love,” Will
sighed and realized he had to go to tea now. He
couldn’t let Norrington spend any significant amount
of time alone with the one he loved, could he?  It
could be disastrous. His hand stung suddenly so bad
that he had to shake it. He looked at his palm but the
scar remained the same. “I’ll be to tea tomorrow,
sweetheart. I love you. Pleasant dreams, my dear.”
   “Pleasant dreams to you, my pirate. I love you.”
Elizabeth answered and then started off to where Peggy
waited impatiently. Will waved half-heartedly at the
woman and received a vicious glare in exchange. 
   He watched Elizabeth walk away until he could no
longer see the pale blue of her dress amid the crowd
in the street. He turned back to the sunset and, for
just a second, caught his breath as he thought he
spotted a black ship with black sails against the
horizon. A blink of his eyes, though, and she was
gone. 
   Despite the happiness in his heart that he would
finally be marrying the woman he loved, there was a
ghastly sinking sensation in his gut. Unlike
Elizabeth, he knew a pirate’s life was brutal and,
generally, short. Jack was an exceptional pirate,
having lived to near two-score and looking as good as
he did while drinking and suffering as much as he had.
That was where Will’s guts began to really squirm.
   For the last two weeks, he’d dreamed every night of
Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl. When Elizabeth
appeared in those dreams, she was giving her hand to
James Norrington. They would then walk away. What
disturbed him most about that was that his heart was
absolutely aglow with happiness at the notion. The
dream ended most nights with him taking the hand of a
pirate and leaning down to kiss those demonically
sensual lips through that damned beard.
   He knew that most of society disapproved of men
loving other men. In fact, there were even laws
against it. That Jack Sparrow had been his father’s
long-time lover had come as a serious shock. To learn,
further, that Jack had similar feelings for him was
even more stunning. When Jack had gone over the edge
of that parapet and been rescued by the Black Pearl,
only Elizabeth’s sweet lips on his, her warm fragrance
in the air, her body pressed against him had kept him
from weeping openly or throwing himself over the edge
as well. 
   Last night, though, the hunger had gotten to him.
He’d dreamt of not just kissing Jack. He’d dreamt that
he shared Jack’s life, his bed included, and there had
been no feeling of regret or longing for Elizabeth. He
turned his back on the ocean as the final degree of
the sun’s disk disappeared and headed back for the
smithy. He had work to do. Work was good because if he
worked enough, he fell into such a deep sleep that he
had no strength to dream. 
                        X
   Elizabeth spread the samples of fabric across her
chest as she stood before the mirror. She loved the
way the silk looked on her but the velvet would be
warmer. She hummed lightly as she moved about the
room. Who knew there were so many shades of white? It
had never occurred to her before. 
   One caught her eye, though. It was called “sail
white” and reminded her of the sails on the
Interceptor or the Dauntless. Something about the
shine of it made her remember saying “as a wedding
gift” and seeing James’ handsome face against a
backdrop of that color. At the time, she had sensed he
was teetering, not quite decided, and that it was Jack
Sparrow, offering his lecherous hands up to be
manacled, who had finally pushed Norrington over the
edge. She had understood it then. James had only
thought he loved her. It was the pirate, though, that
won his heart.
   She had never realized that one man could fall so
deeply for another. Of course, there was always
speculation about pirates and sailors. Men had so much
lust within them, what else could they do when at sea
for months at a time? But a deep, emotional commitment
between two men was unheard-of, she thought. Until
she’d seen the look pass between James and Jack. 
   She had known, at that moment, that she would never
be loved by James the way that scalawag was. She could
only hope that his heart wasn’t too broken by being
jilted by the pirate. What other explanation could
there be for Sparrow kidnapping the Commodore, keeping
him for several weeks, then releasing him back here
unharmed?
   A knock at her door brought her out of her
daydream. In her imagination, James Norrington knelt
on one knee before her and asked for her hand in
marriage. Will, of course, would have been devastated,
perhaps even would have challenged James to a duel.
Just in time, Jack Sparrow would sail in to take her
away from both of them. Elizabeth shuddered with
delicious horror at the thought. Despite her outward
display, she truly did find the real pirate in her
life most attractive—when he kept his mouth shut, that
is.
   “Miss Elizabeth?” The voice of Strella, the
downstairs serving maid, called.
   “Just a moment,” Elizabeth sighed, set the fabric
in her hand aside, and went to the door. “Yes?”
   “Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss, but yer father would
like t’ see you in his study, if you please?” Strella
was unhappy that she had been reassigned to work the
downstairs rather than to serve as Elizabeth’s maid.
   Elizabeth smiled at her. “Thank you, Strella,
please tell him I’ll be down in a moment. How are the
plans for your wedding coming? It’s three weeks, isn’t
it?”
   Strella beamed. “Yes, Miss. Adam has been treatin’
me like a queen. My mum and da bought me a beautiful
gown to wear. O’course, nothin’ so grand as yours will
be but, still. I don’t really want to leave yer employ
but Adam says he’ll need my help in running the dry
goods. It sounds so nice.”
   “It certainly does,” Elizabeth said and went to put
her slippers on so that she would be properly dressed
to enter her father’s study. Strella went on down to
relay her message.
   The thought crossed her mind to slide down the
banister when she came to the top of the stairs but
she decided to be sensible and descend the stairs with
nothing more than a spring in her step. When they
returned from their adventure, Will told her that he
would be shaving off the beard and mustache but she
had begged him not to. She told him it made him look
more mature. The reality was that it made him look
more like a pirate.
   She knocked lightly at the door of her father’s
study but didn’t wait to be bid to enter. As she
stepped into the room, she was stunned to see James
Norrington there. He glanced over at her and smiled in
genuine pleasure.
   “Commodore?”
   “Elizabeth,” He took her hand then and kissed it,
something he’d never done before. She turned to her
father.
   “You wanted to see me?”
   “Yes, I did. I realize you are busy with your
wedding plans and all but Commodore Norrington would
like to speak with you. I shall cede the field to you
both. If you need me, I’ll be in the drawing room.” 
   Weatherby Swann had noticed his daughter’s look of
stunned surprise when Norrington had taken her hand
and kissed it with a feeling of hope in his heart. If
James Norrington, using the techniques of pursuit that
Jack Sparrow had taught him, could not woo and win
Elizabeth’s heart, he would simply take the girl to
England with him when he left in a month. He stepped
into the salon and closed the door though he hovered
just outside it, hoping to hear something telling.
   “Commodore, I heard about your-your kidnapping. It
must have been dreadful for you,” Elizabeth said,
taking her hand gently from Norrington’s.
   James hesitated then smiled at her again. “There
were moments, I admit, when I feared for my life.
Overall, however, Captain Sparrow was a gracious, if
uncivilized host. Honestly, I would hate to face him
in battle but he is an honorable foe. In fact, he
would not have released me if I hadn’t saved his
life.”
   “You saved his life? How?” 
   The expression on Elizabeth’s face, the intense
thirst for adventure, stirred Norrington’s heart. He
had her undivided attention now. He was not going to
give that up. _First, win Elizabeth,_ he told himself,
_then push Turner away._ He regretted the deceit but
he knew there was no other way. He launched into a
carefully expurgated version of his story. Suddenly,
the girl on the Sparrow was beautiful and Jack had
been breathtaken by her. Anamaria shared Jack’s bunk.
He confessed to nearly falling for Jeannette, a tragic
maiden in Trinidad. Finally, he relayed the tale of
diving into the sea between two ships—a most dangerous
place to be even when not engaged in battle—to save
the life of his pirate host. When he finished,
Elizabeth assaulted him with dozens of questions. They
talked well past the dinner hour and it was only when
the footman came in to extinguish the candles for the
night that they realized it was near midnight.
   “I didn’t realize it was so late,” Elizabeth said,
rising. “You are coming to tea tomorrow, are you not,
James?”
   Norrington bowed with a crooked smile. “That
invitation is impossible for me to resist. I will be
most delighted to be here.”
   “I invited Will too. He was just talking about Jack
this afternoon. He will be interested to hear your
story as well.” She said, her face glowing.
   “Excellent,” Norrington said, still regarding her
pleasantly. “I will be happy to tell Mr. Turner what
transpired. Now, my lady, I know that you are engaged
but I should like to violate etiquette, with your
permission?”
   Elizabeth’s eyes widened in curiosity. “Of course.”
   Without warning, James leaned in and kissed her,
chastely, as he had Jack Sparrow the last time he’d
seen him. When he drew back, she was staring up at him
in total shock. He winked at her then turned to leave
the room.
   “C-Commodore!” Elizabeth gasped and he turned back
at the sound, his eyebrows raised in inquiry. “You
kissed me.”
   Norrington let a Jack Sparrow-like grin cross his
face and nodded. “Yes, love, I did. Tomorrow at tea,
then?”
   Then he was gone without waiting for her response.
Elizabeth sat down in the armchair in the dark study
while her head swam. Something had changed James
Norrington in a way that she was totally unprepared
for. She, of course, knew that something had to be
Jack Sparrow.

                      X
(Italics on)
   The ship rocked beneath his feet and he looked
around. Here, again, on the Interceptor. Jack stood
just a foot or two away, giving him that look of
reluctance and soft pain, as though the words he was
about to say hurt.
   “I knew ‘im. Probably one the few who knew him as
William Turner , everyone else just called him
Bootstrap or Bootstrap Bill.” He returned to the wheel
of the Interceptor.
   “Bootstrap?” He heard himself say.
   “Good man, good pirate,” Jack turned to give him a
look. “I swear you look jus’ like him.”
   “It’s not true. He was a merchant sailor; a good
respectable man who obeyed the law,” The protest came
out of him as it always did but with much less
conviction
   Jack did that head bobbing thing that meant he was
exasperated then turned and growled, “He was a bloody
pirate an’ a scallywag!”
   “My father was not a pirate,” Will said quietly and
stepped toward Jack. “But I am.”
   He grabbed Jack by the lapels and pulled him
forward to receive his kiss. For a moment, Jack
responded and he heard a soft moan from the pirate.
  Then Jack broke away, glaring at him. “You don’t
know what yer doin’, whelp. Yer playin’ with fire
here. Don’t ask me t’ turn back once ye’ve launched us
on this course. Neither love nor ships work like
that.”
   “So,” Will heard himself breathe. “Set sails full.”
   The next he knew, Jack and he were in a bed. Jack’s
hard, hot body moved obscenely beneath him as he drove
his manhood up into the pirate’s body. “Easy, whelp,
wait until the opportune moment . . .”
(Italics off)
   Will woke himself out of the dream as the orgasm
ripped through him. He was laying in the small bunk in
the back of the smithy, his face buried in his pillow.
He’d worked until the wee hours of the morning but it
hadn’t helped. He pressed his left hand across the
lower half of his face and his lips brushed the scar
on his palm. For a moment, he could almost hear Jack,
“Ah, love, I don’t like t’ see so much pain. ‘Tain’t
right, whelp, ‘tain’t right a ‘tall.” He could hear
Mr. Brown stirring in the smithy and knew he was
getting up very late. He threw off the covers and
began to yank on his clothing. 
   “Just shut up, Jack,” He spoke softly but addressed
the voice in the back of his head. “Just shut the hell
up and leave me alone.”
   When he heard the laugh, he snatched up a cloth and
bound it tight about his left hand. Just one day
without that voice in the back of his head or those
eyes appearing before him at the most inopportune
times would be a blessing and a relief. He pulled on
his stockings and shoes then went to join Mr. Brown.

                       X

   Elizabeth woke with a gasp. She couldn’t remember
the entire dream but there had been a distinctly
unpleasant edge to the feelings it evoked. The more
she thought about it, the more she remembered that
Jack Sparrow had featured prominently in it. There had
also been a death. Whose death she couldn’t recall.
She decided she didn’t want to remember and rose.
   When she descended the stairs later, she was
wearing a burgundy day-gown with white piping across
the bodice and white lace on the sleeves. She joined
her father at breakfast feeling somewhat melancholy.
He noticed after a while, primarily because she wasn’t
smiling and chatting as usual. 
   “What’s wrong, dear?”
   She sighed. “Do you remember on the Dauntless—“
   “Elizabeth, I thought we had decided not to discuss
that.”
   “Father, please, I need to talk about this. It’s
got nothing to do with the pirates, I promise.”
   Swann smiled grimly and nodded. “Very well. What on
the Dauntless?”
   “Well,” Elizabeth pursed her lips and frowned. “Do
you remember what you said about the right decision
made for the wrong reasons?”
   Swann nodded. “Of course, my dear. ‘Even a good
decision if made for the wrong reasons can be a wrong
decision.’ You aren’t having second thoughts about
marrying Mr. Turner?”
   Elizabeth smiled sweetly. “No, of course not. I
just-James seems so different since he was kidnapped.
As if-As if Jack Sparrow has taken over his soul! But
that’s impossible. It’s just—troubling.”
   Swann reached over and patted her hand. “Trust
yourself, my dear. If your heart says you belong with
Will Turner, then do what you must. I’m certain James
Norrington has several other prospective wives. He’s
handsome, charming and a commodore. Many women would
be more than happy to share his life.”
   For a brief moment, Elizabeth felt an odd pang of
jealousy. Of course, she knew that James would have to
find another woman to be his wife but the thought
hurt. She decided not to dwell on it though she
couldn’t put it entirely out of her mind. “I know. I
guess I just regret that I had to hurt him. I do care
for him on some level, I guess.”
   “Yes, that was regrettable,” He murmured
comfortingly then returned to reading the missives
he’d received the day before, making a game effort to
hide the smile that threatened to break across his
face.
    Elizabeth went about the rest of the day in much
the same way as she always did. She went to visit some
of the other wives and daughters of politicians or
plantation holders in the morning then returned at
noon to start the staff on preparing for the tea
later. At a few minutes after four, there was a knock
on the door. Hanson, the new butler, answered the door
and escorted the Commodore into the drawing room.
Elizabeth stood to greet him as another knock made
Hanson return to the door. James approached with a
pleased smile.
   “Elizabeth, if I may be so bold, you look
exquisite. Have you done something different with your
hair?” James asked then leaned forward to brush his
lips across her cheek.
   An intake of air from across the room told her that
Will had arrived. “Elizabeth?”
   “Will, come join us. James is going to regale us
with tales of his adventures aboard the Black Pearl,”
She said and reached for the blacksmith’s hand to draw
him into the little circle. 
   Elizabeth made herself comfortable on the settee
where she could see both her guests and pour tea if
necessary. Will and James each took one of the nearby
upholstered chairs. James was smiling all the while he
spoke, asking Will about the smithy and his plans then
turning the conversation to Elizabeth and their
wedding plans. Will started out looking bored then his
mood progressed rapidly downward, his scowl deepening
the more Norrington spoke. Elizabeth was too busy
enjoying Norrington’s adventures to notice. Will’s
mouth dropped open when James Norrington reached for
Elizabeth’s hand and held it as he spoke.
   It didn’t take long for Will to wish he’d brought
his sword. _Maybe I could cut out his tongue before I
throw myself on the blade_, Will thought darkly.
_Every other word out of his mouth is Jack this or
Jack that. I never thought I’d learn to detest that
name_. The worst part was that he could see, in his
mind’s eye, Jack doing what James was telling them
about. He could see Jack grinning wickedly at the
shrewish woman’s squawks or humming as he stood at the
wheel of the Pearl. But underneath the story, he
suspected he knew what Norrington _wasn’t_ saying.
Norrington told them he had slept in the captain’s
bunk and Will assumed that Jack had slept there too.
He nearly spilled his tea when Norrington spoke of
rescuing Jack from drowning during a battle with a
naval vessel. He tried to avoid listening when James
Norrington told them that Jack had delivered him
safely to the cove just a few miles from Port Royal. 
   Elizabeth kept smiling over at him every so often
so he had to smile back. She glanced over at him
expectantly when James finished his story. Will didn’t
realize he was done at first. After a moment, he
smiled strangely and spoke. “Well, that was
interesting.”
   “Interesting?” Elizabeth said, looking at Will
searchingly. “Aren’t you happy to hear that Jack is
doing well?”
   “Well,” Will paused and heard a ghostly chuckle in
the back of his mind. “Certainly. So, Commodore, what
are your plans now?”
   Norrington smiled. “My plans are to continue
hunting pirates and find myself a suitable
wife—preferably a beautiful one.”
   At that, he glanced over at Elizabeth. For Will, it
was the last straw. 
   “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but I have to go. I have
work to do,” Will stood and the others followed suit.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
   Elizabeth gave him a teasing look. “I’m not sure,
Will. I may be receiving visitors for most of the day.
How about you, James?”
   Norrington bowed to her. “Unfortunately, my lady, I
must attend to some business that has been building
for a while. There’s a Spanish privateer by the name
of Moreno who is reported to be in the area raiding
merchant vessels. My men and I will be shipping out
tomorrow in pursuit of him. I probably should be going
as well.”
   “Well, then, good-night to the both of you.” She
offered her hand to Will who lifted it to his lips and
kissed it tenderly. When she offered her hand to
Norrington, he drew her close, kissed her palm then
tenderly stroked a hand across her cheek while gazing
searchingly into her eyes.
   “Good night, darling,” He said then, with a smirk
at Will, he turned and left the room.
   Elizabeth turned back to him, a slightly dazed
expression on her face. Will opened his mouth to say
something then thought better of it. With an
expression of resignation, he left the room. 
   He ended up leaving the mansion before Norrington.
He was down the stairs when the voice reached him.
   “Mr. Turner, I would like a word with you.”
   Will heard the voice behind him and groaned
silently. Norrington hadn’t done enough to him this
evening? Making advances toward Elizabeth before his
very eyes? Talking almost incessantly about Jack? As
if he needed more reminders of Jack! He stopped and
turned toward Norrington.
   “Commodore, I would love to engage you in
conversation but I do have work yet to do tonight.
I-.”
   To his utter shock, the Commodore pulled his wig
off and stuck it in his pocket. He ran his fingers
through his hair then regarded Will with a serious
look. “We need to talk, man to man, somewhere
private.”
   Sensing that this conversation could change his
life, Will sighed. “Where?”
   They ended up at Norrington’s home, a small,
Spartan dwelling not terribly far from the fort. The
Commodore lit some candles and a lantern. “Please have
a seat. May I call you William?”
   Will sat down on a bow back chair at the table.
When he heard that name spoken aloud, the name Jack
had used for him, his stomach twisted. After a moment,
he replied. “Please, call me Will. I-William is
someone else.”
   “I see,” Norrington said and set a bottle of rum
down with two tankards. He sat down in the chair
opposite Will and poured them both some rum. “Who is
William, if not you?”
   “Please, Commodore, isn’t it a bit late in the day
to start a metaphysical discussion?”
   “Call me James,” Norrington said. “Try the rum.
It’s actually quite good compared to some of the swill
Jack likes.”
   “Could you please stop talking about him?” Will
thought he would explode if one more word about the
pirate captain came from the Commodore’s lips.
“Honestly, you sound like you’re in love with—him.”
   Their eyes met. After a minute, Norrington spoke.
“And what would you say if I said I was?”
   Will smiled oddly after a moment. “I’d say—I don’t
know. I-How could you leave him if you really love
him?”
   Norrington took a drink of rum and spoke quietly.
“It wasn’t easy. I had a major struggle with myself to
admit that I could love a man, let alone that one.
When I finally understood what he meant to me, it was
a terrible blow to learn that he didn’t feel the same
way toward me. Oh, we might have been happy, had I
been willing to give up my career. But he could never
be mine in the same way, as I eventually figured out.”
   “Elizabeth?”
   James chuckled flatly. “Believe it or not, Will,
she’s very much like him. That spirit, that sense of
adventure in life, that passion—I can live without
Jack if I can have Elizabeth for my own. I fully
intend to win her from you, Will, if I possibly can.
She loves you a great deal.”
   “Thanks for the warning,” Will muttered bitterly.
   “You’re welcome,” Norrington flashed a smile that
was nearly Sparrow-worthy. “I apologize if speaking
about Jack discomfits you, Will. The truth of the
matter is that my time with him changed me profoundly.
It is hard for me to imagine how much more joy my life
could contain if I had just met Jack even a year ago.
I know for a fact that Elizabeth and I would be
married now.”
   “How can you be so sure?” Will said, raising his
chin to glare at the officer.
   “Because I learned from the master. Think about it
this way, Will. Of those of us who all had contact
with Jack Sparrow, how many of us detest him? Or even
just dislike the man? Elizabeth speaks of him with
disdain but I saw the look in her eyes when he was
around.”
   Will nodded and shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”
   “Of course I am,” James chuckled. “Hell, my friend,
one of my officers is in love with him without having
even met the man. That’s disturbing because it shows
just how powerful Jack Sparrow is. My question to you,
Mr. Turner, is this: How do you feel about the good
pirate?”
   “He’s my friend,” Will responded immediately.
   “He’s more than that and you know it, Will.”
   “You’re right,” Will said after a moment. “He’s
also the only link I have to my father. I guess that
makes him—family.”
   Norrington laughed softly. “So you admit he’s more
than just a friend to you.”
   Will nodded. “All right, you have me there. He’s
more than just a friend.”
   For several minutes, Norrington remained silent.
Will realized that his hand felt better than it had in
weeks the entire time he’d been in Norrington’s
presence. That puzzled him. Finally, the Commodore
broke the silence.
   “I didn’t tell you the whole truth when I said I’d
rescued Jack.” James gave him a gentle look. “He
hadn’t just hit his head and fallen in the water.”
   “What do you mean?” Will’s head came up, his eyes
suddenly dark with concern.
   “I mean that his injuries were more serious than
just a bump on the head,” Norrington drew a breath and
obviously struggled to continue, a sight that was very
alarming to Will. “Jack-he’d been shot, a hole blown
through him. He nearly died.”
   Will’s face paled and he swallowed hard. “I would
never have known. I almost lost him and I’d--.”
   At the words, Norrington smiled ruefully and
lowered his gaze. “There it is. And you didn’t even
touch your rum! It’s a good thing no one needs to
torture you for information, Will Turner. You have a
fatal flaw in that love of yours for Jack Sparrow.”
   “But I love Elizabeth!”
   Norrington shrugged. “Of course you do. Not to
belabor the point, but loving one is not mutually
exclusive of loving the other.”
   “You’re lying,” Will said. He stood and stepped
away from the table. “You are lucky my sword is at
home or I might call you out here and now. You’ve
declared your intentions and-and your
‘accomplishments’. I advise you to stay far away from
me in the future, Commodore. And from Elizabeth as
well.”
   Norrington looked up at him with a glint of
amusement in his eyes. “What about Jack?”
   Will started to speak then thought better of it. He
spun on his heel and marched out the door. 
   For several minutes, the Commodore contemplated
what he’d learned in the last few days. Jack Sparrow
had feelings for him but they were nothing as deep as
his feelings for one Will Turner. Will Turner had
feelings for Jack Sparrow that were comparably deep
although he refused to acknowledge them. Elizabeth
Swann, lovely little minx that she was, might one day
soon be his. And his own heart was out at sea on the
Black Pearl. Caught between the whirlpool and the
monster, James Norrington slammed the table with his
fist. “Damnation!”