Zatlatzonco

Will waited.  Waited as he and Jack were surrounded by soldiers, waited as he made his stand, and then Elizabeth made hers.  And finally, as Jack made his last few wise-ass comments and moved away from the soldiers, towards the edge of the wall (he was certain that the pirate captain had seen the same sight that Miss Swann and himself had:  that of the parrot that could have only come from a crew member of the Black Pearl), the blacksmith was convinced that it was finally time.

But Jack left.  He left them there, and fell into the water (if he were ever to see Captain Jack Sparrow again, he'd make sure to comment on that bit of unluckiness that even his skills couldn't overcome), to be picked up by his loyal ship and crew.  And then he sailed off into the horizon.  To the freedom that he cared so much about, and that had so many times over the last adventure almost been stolen away from him.

He left Will wondering what he had done wrong.  Wondering if this was some sort of punishment.  In the end the younger man had shown that he truly cared for Jack--they had fought together in perfect union, almost as if they knew the other male's actions before they were begun.  Surely that meant he was forgiven?  His earlier betrayal of his partner-in-crime had been made not out of animosity or greed, but a selfless desire to help the girl he had loved since first sight.  He hadn't understood the other male, hadn't realized that there was always a plan.

And what of Elizabeth?  She had loved the action that being surrounded by pirates had added to her life.  It was so much better than simply being the pretty daughter of a governor, wearing corsets and marrying a commodore.  She and Jack had become closer, almost friends.  After they met up with him again he had noticed the new aspect of their relationship.  The pirate had become less like a legend to her, more like a human being whom, while she might not like him, could be respected by her.

When Will and his newly regained love were finally allowed to depart from the scene where they had stood up against authority for one last, bitter-sweet moment, it was a melancholy couple that could be seen walking down a deserted, though bright, street towards the blacksmith's shop.  Propriety be damned.  He had seen her bruised, bloody, and in her underclothes.  Being alone with her in public was far from the worst thing that could happen.

"Do you think he'll come back?" The young man looked up at the words, then gave a soft sigh.

"I think he'll give this place a wide berth, at least until your ex-fiancé gives up his search for good," was the only answer he could possibly give.

Eyes bright with what he imagined (heart breaking as he did so) were withheld tears, the woman nodded.  "I meant, though, for us."  She paused. 

They were now at the door to the shop, and he could hear the so-called master blacksmith snoring after a night of getting pissed on alcohol of such a quality Jack most likely wouldn't even drink it.  And that thought of Jack was unwanted, because associating everything in his life with the pirate who left them stranded in a painfully normal way of life was not needed.  Not if he was ever going to go back to the way things were before the undead crew of the Black Pearl invaded the town.  Or farther back, really, to before Sparrow, dressed in all of his eccentric pirate finery, stepped off the mast of a small, sinking boat.

"Oh," he answered, chocolate eyes straying away from her face.  He couldn't meet her eyes, couldn't let her know how much he regretted not running after Jack, jumping into that icy, deep blue salt water and swimming to the black-sailed ship.  She could never know how easy it would have been to go, even if it meant leaving her behind, if the captain had only said a word or two along those lines.

"I wish he had…had just grabbed our arms and pulled us back with him.  Had spoken those same arrogant words and tripped, taking the three of us into the sea."

A wry smile parted Will's lips.  Of course, any girl he loved so much would equally love him and every part of himself.  And piracy--freedom--ran in his veins.  "Or had said something, anything, to tell us when to meet him.  We could have packed, ran off in the middle of the night."  His smile became a grin.  "Running from the commodore alongside people who understand us, and whom we can understand in turn."

Elizabeth nodded, her own dark eyes holding a far-away look.  "I'll see you tomorrow, Will," she finally said, brushing still soft lips across his cheek and stepping back. 

"I should walk you back."  He blinked when she shook her head. 


"I was imprisoned by pirates, I think I can walk through the well-guarded streets of the city my own father governs without worry."  Then she gifted him with her own wry look.  "We were also given an escort when we left."

The boy glanced over her shoulder.  Sure enough a uniformed soldier was pretending not to be watching the two young people.  "Better safe than sorry.  We just got back:  I need a bit of a rest before I can go off to rescue you again."

The laughed, trying to make light of the situation, and then he was forced to watch another person he cared deeply for turn her back on him.  At least he knew where to find her, and knew she would return.  They had so many things to plan for, and even if he was nothing more than a blacksmith whose father was a pirate, he still wanted to make her life perfect.

Shaking off any future plans, and deciding to simply dwell on the present for the night (ignorance _was_ bliss, after all), he pushed opened the door.  The familiar smell of the smithy greeted him, wrapping him in its heated familiarity.  Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.  It was, after all, home (he, scolding his mind with the earlier cliché, pushed away the thought that Jack had almost become home, if not his ship and crew).

He went through the motions:  a tender hearted pet and hug of the hardworking mule, the spoken words to thin air and his sleeping boss, even the checking of all parts of the shop.  Of course a few things had been moved--he had been away for quite some time.  He was sure that someone had given word to the lush, whom he nevertheless liked, about the events taking place.  He just hoped it was a sympathetic soul, and not someone who made him out to be a criminal.

Will unconsciously found himself at the farther end of the room, staring at the place where it had all begun:  where he had noticed the tricorner hat that was clearly not the property of anyone who frequented the shop, and had gotten his first glimpse of Jack through the clashing of steel blades.  But there was no beloved hat resting anywhere in the shop, and the Mr. Brown had cleared away the signs of the confrontation.

Mr. Brown had cleared away the last signs of Jack Sparrow from their lives, except for already fading cuts and scrapes.  Will coughed, surprised at himself.  Suddenly he regretted not coming back to find everything still out of place and strewn around the smithy.  How silly of him, to think such things.  Truly, it was nice not to be the one cleaning up for once.

***

"Father said that he would, of course, be willing to pay for the wedding," Elizabeth continued, staring into the cup of tea before her.  "And there is a very nice cottage on the other side of town he believes will suit our purposes perfectly."  She glanced up at her companion.  "Will, are you paying any attention?"

He glanced at her, away from the window he had been looking out, surprised.  "Of course I am.  Wedding, cottage, purposes."  When she had nodded and gone back to the small sandwich on her plate, he turned his head once more.

The ocean looked so peaceful from the height of the governor's mansion.  Down near sea level a person always noticed the waves, the tide, how quickly moving and immediate the sea seemed. Will was coming to understand  that it was only when looking down at the sea from a vantage higher than just a simple dock, that you could appreciate its true beauty.

A small, annoyed noise swung his focus back to Elizabeth.  "All you do, now, is daydream, Will.  Do you miss everything that much?"

That gave him pause.  No, he didn't miss everything that had happened.  The undead pirates, the sword fights, and the fact he never knew whether he'd live through the day or not were not missed.  But certain things:  A moment of perfect understanding with Jack, where brown met brown and lock, or how spending time with Jack guaranteed that he would be working with at least one person he admired and respected. 

"I miss the sea, the open air," he said after a moment's contemplation.  "I miss feeling a boat beneath my feet, a ship rocked by a force no one can comprehend.  It's not that I miss acting like a pirate ("...he is a blacksmith." "No, he's a pirate."), but certain things...do run in my veins."

He wondered why his fiancee suddenly brightened upon hearing those words, but was soon given his answer.  "That we can work around."

"Uh...pardon me?"

Her smile was so bright that for a moment he believed he had been blinded.  "I will request from my father an engagement gift..." she trailed off, leaving him in suspense, waiting for him to chime in with the ending of her perfect plan.  When he didn't, she realized he was much too distracted to even plot with her, and that it would be best to get underway as soon as possible.  "I will work out all of the details.  Pack those things which you feel are most suited for the trip.  Word will be sent when everything is ready, if we have not seen each other beforehand."

He stared after her as she swept from the room, her purposeful steps echoing through the mansion.  Standing he made to follow, then, thinking better of that idea, began the journey back to his small home in the town.  As he approached the building where he lodged he stopped, turned back the way he had come, and stared up at the large home on its hill.  It was a preposterous idea, and her father would most likely disagree (but when had the old man not given her what she wanted?).

"Hard day, Will?" The wife of his landlord asked as she walked towards the side of the building for her drying laundry.

"Yes," he answered, relieved by the knowledge that she never wanted personal details.  "Hard year."

He moved to go through the front door, up the stairs, and to his small room, but stopped just before the doorstep.  The searching look he threw the thick wooden walls of the building made it seem as if he was questing for the meaning of his life within the cracks and crevasses of the worn lumber.  A noise from the alleyway between the buildings--the landlady cursing at a stain she hadn't noticed while washing--brought him back to himself.

Without another look he hurried inside and up the stairs, entering his room in a flurry of short cape and hat.  He always dressed up when going to Elizabeth's for tea, feeling better about himself and their unspoken although widely known engagement when he didn't simply look like the blacksmith's assistant.  He fell to his small bed, fully clothed.

He had purchased a few new pieces for his wardrobe after returning to Port Royal.  Jack had only reminded him last minute to grab a handful of coins ("...for a rainy day.  Savvy?" the pirate's hips swaying as he went back to searching for the small but priceless pieces he was most interested in) from the piles where they lay strewn about the large cave.  They had weighed down his pockets, but also lifted his spirits.  It had felt _good_ to take that gold.

He had used those pieces of treasure to supplement his meager income, although had spent little of the money.  He could only justify spending so much on himself before feeling guilty.  It was, after all, stolen treasure, even if the pirates would argue he had worked hard enough to get it.

Will sat up so quickly that he became dizzy, and fell back down to the bumpy mattress and neatly made sheets.  A hand came up to his head, and he almost hit himself with it.  He had only just realized what Elizabeth had been trying to tell him all along:  She was planning a trip, thinking it was the only way to bring Will's thoughts back to her, and away from the ocean.

Poor Elizabeth, it was as if she thought she could not compete with his fantasies about their adventuring under Jack Sparrow.  And, the young man was coming to accept, in a way that was true.  Was this what his own mother had gone through?  Her husband drawn to the siryn call of the tides and the drama promised by life on a ship.  No wonder Will had not seen the Caribbean colonies until she had passed away:  She had feared losing her son as she had lost her husband.

"Elizabeth..." he murmured, eyes closing in a movement that, if anyone would have been watching, would betray all his weariness.

He wished that piracy wasn't illegal.  That he could walk down to the dock and find the Black Pearl tied there, receiving new supplies while the crew went off into the town to stretch their legs on land.  Then he could walk up into the ship, up to the helm, where of course Jack would be caressing his ship (maybe whispering the song that Elizabeth had taught the pirate and said he'd loved).  Then he could smile at Jack, and Jack would smile back, and then he would ask if Jack needed another hand, or Jack would ask.  And then they'd be sailing out into the horizon within a few days, everything forgotten except the spray of sea water and the feel of rough rope against his hands.

But Norrington would never allow a pirate to sail within Port Royal without a fight, and there was little chance of the beloved Black Pearl being put into such expected danger by her captain for the simple task of seeing an old friend again.  A self-deprecating smile formed at that thought.  He was unable to be sure whether Jack even thought of them as friends, or if he had simply been..."leverage" in a bad situation.

Despite the fact twilight was only beginning to converge on the town, Will allowed sleep to claim him after that last fatalistic thought.  He didn't want to remember anymore, simply wanted to fall into the oblivion unconsciousness inevitably offered.  In no time at all he'd be creating new memories of sailing with Elizabeth at his side and no pirates in sight.

***

Will had not seen Norrington since the final day he had seen Jack.  Associating the two was foolish, though, and even his own mind had a hard time doing such a thing.  He had known Norrington since he had known Elizabeth, and had been forced to deal with the man on various occasions when their paths had crossed during his teenage years.

Not that he really minded.  Except for the ever-weighing fact that the Commodore (then a Captain) and the girl he loved were surely going to wed, he always found dealing with the man somewhat relaxing.  He always tried to be in control, and that was something Will liked in other people--too often was his own life in disarray.

Out of the side of his mouth he asked, "Why is he here?"

Shaking her head, his fiancee replied, "My father is being overly cautious.  I believe the Commodore is supposed to frighten us from our journey."

"Does he have an army of ghostly marines for us to defeat?"  At that they looked at each other and shared small smiles, then turned back to Norrington, who watched them with a slight amount of disapproval.

"Pirate activity has been steadily increasing over the last few months."  He paused, glanced out at the ships which rested in the port (one of them with clear signs it had been in a struggle), and then continued while pacing in tight steps a few feet back and forth, his hands clasped behind him.  "I can only assume...well, I'm sure you're both familiar with the reason why."  A pointed look made both Will and Elizabeth stare bashfully at their feet, like children being scolded.

"Yes, but we have found you lodging upon one of the safest ships on the sea!" Governor Swann put in, smiling fondling at how youthful his daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law were acting.

Norrington raised an eyebrow pointedly, then continued once he was sure that the politician was unlikely to add anything more.  "One of the safest trading ships," he corrected.  Will knew that he would have probably liked to send them off in a fully armed military ship that was not expected to meet any danger, but that would have been awkward.  There were still a few who blamed Will and Elizabeth for the escape of the notorious and dangerous Jack Sparrow (especially when the Black Pearl began to make raids on ships in the area).

The man finally pointed out their ship to them, and the two younger figures cocked their heads to the side to examine the Galleon floating in the cay.  Will felt a mild sense of loss that they would be on such a formidable ship--not that he desired to be on a boat besieged by pirates, but out of a slight want of adventure.  It was, though, a fine ship, and one anyone should be proud of dwelling within for even a short trip.

"The Stella is making rounds of most of the Spanish Main.  Presently, the bounty it carries is of no worth to any buccaneers who may be bold enough to attack.  Anything of great value is simply the property of the passengers it has decided to take aboard."  He seemed to predict the next question, as he put in, "There will be four others such as yourselves...."

He trailed off and they let him, Will wondering that he wasn't protesting further.  After everything that had happened, Norrington had taken what could only be called great interest in the health of both the blacksmith and the governor's daughter.  He had once joked, on a rare occasion when he had allowed himself to relax around others , "I am simply waiting for the two of you to run off and become pirates, Mr. Turner.  With you two running about causing havoc, as well as Sparrow, I would have to take an early retirement to retain my sanity."

Will noticed, looking upon the gangplank, a little man ordering about various workers as they loaded trunks onto the ship.  Another passenger, obviously, who looked out of place simply standing on the boat.  He wondered if he'd be able to hold back his laughter when he found the man stumbling around below deck once the voyage was underway, and found himself beginning to feel better about the entire trip.

It was only after a sharp poke in his side from Elizabeth that he realized the Commodore was still speaking, and was just about to finish making whatever speech it was that he was saying.  "Since everything seems to be in order, you should begin to board."  And he walked off, leaving a confused young man and a determined young lady behind him.

"Well, that was very informative."

"It was?" Will asked skeptically, keeping pace with her as she hurried towards the Stella.

Elizabeth laughed.  "Truly?  No.  I'm simply gladdened that the Commodore is allowing us off his short leash."

The governor had already made sure their luggage was loaded, although neither of them had packed much.  He was, though, equipped with a sword and dagger, tucked away in his single trunk in case of an emergency.  And he knew that Elizabeth had also packed for such an occurrence--he had spotted a pair of trousers when she had been searching for something earlier.

Both of them walked onto the boat, Will letting out a sigh as his feet hit the deck.  A crew member near them gave him a slight smile, as if knowing exactly how he felt.  They glanced around curiously, and then began to walk towards the small cabins they had been given.  That was another reason the Stella had been chosen, the blacksmith thought, because a governor's daughter should always have a cabin, and on most ships there were only quarters for the captain.

They passed a door which was opened just a crack, and Elizabeth paused, a frown on her face.  Voices floated out from whatever room lay beyond.  Will moved closer to the woman, trying to hear whatever it was that she was eavesdropping on so eagerly.

"This was the place?  Port Royal?  This was where those pirates attacked last year?" someone asked, responding to a formerly made statement which the young man had missed.

"Aye, this is the very place.  The Black Pearl itself attacked Fort Charles.  Decimated the area for months."  Another voice, which sounded more mature, was answering the questions.  "They had Jack Sparrow, its captain, in their hands, yet he managed to escape.  He be a slippery scoundrel, that one."

The two passengers glanced at each other, surprise evident on their faces.  Will leaned in even closer, wondering if the crewmen couldn't give them more recent information about the pirate captain than Norrington was willing to.  But after a moment they realized that the man would rather rant about the evils of "Sparrow" and his "bloodthirsty" crew than mention the facts.  The Black Pearl had been a legend for so long, that even its enemies continued the tradition.

"So, does this mean Jack is a pirate so evil that hell itself spit him out?" Elizabeth joked when she stepped inside the small area that was given specifically to her.  Since they were not married

Will smiled at her, glad she could take the insults against their friend and brush them away.  "If anyone can really believe that, I feel sorry for them.  He may be ruthless, and without a doubt crazy, but he will never capture the essence of the evil pirate act.  He seems too flamboyant for such things as instilling dread in others."

"He would also have to cut back on the kohl," she added.

"And," Will moved across the room, arms out at his sides and palms pointing downwards, then, when he spoke, he brought his hands up before his shoulders and moved them around with little motions of the wrist, "the gestures."

Elizabeth giggled and sat on the small and uncomfortable looking cot against one wall of the room.  "And, of course," she began, slurring her words ever so slightly, as if her tongue didn't want to work correctly, "he would have to dis-dec-discat-discontinue the drunken binges.  Savvy?"

"I'm glad you came with me.  Even if it is unlucky to have a woman onboard."  He grinned.  "Although, Jack never seemed to think so."  They exchanged knowing looks, both believing they knew the reasoning behind that, although having two different ideas as to what that could be.

"Miss Swann, are you..." a voice interrupted, trailing off as the person opened the door and noticed Will standing there, a mere foot away from the bed and the girl.  "Ah, you would be Mr. Turner?  If you would come with me, I will show you to your room."

Will looked towards Elizabeth, as if to get her approval, and at a nod he left with the man who had stopped their conversation.  Some form of officer, it seemed by the look of him, but he was so stern that the blacksmith didn't dare ask what his position was.  He could easily take offense to such an innocent interrogation.

Neither the younger man nor the older spoke as they walked down the hallway, turned and went down another.  "This is where the male passengers are staying.  The room here, and across the hall here."  He pointed it out with precise movements of his hands, as if wasting any energy was a horrible thing. 

"You will be in this one, with Mr. Fielding.  Colonel Barton and Mr.'s Simon and Yardley will stay within the second cabin."  He gave Will a look that convinced the boy that the other male felt it a horrible wrong that he, a much younger and lower class man, had only to stay with one person.

"Thank you," he said in a dismissive way he had seen many of the guests around the governor's mansion affect.

The room was the same size as Elizabeth's, but crammed within were two cots instead of her one.  He could only hope that the cabin across the hall was larger.  There was already a trunk sitting at the foot of one of the pieces of furniture, and he let out a soft groan when he recognized the luggage:  It was that of the little man he was so ready to make fun of earlier.

***

The door creaked open behind Will, and he turned quickly, attention drawn away from the chest.  In came his roommate, stout and bald.  Beady eyes glancing around furtively and watching the blacksmith suspiciously, as if he expected him to attack at any moment.

"Mr. Fielding?" Will asked, having to clear his throat once to get the words out of his mouth.

Black eyes narrowed even more, and the younger man wondered how he could see through the tiny slits of ebony.  "How do you know my name?"

"The, er, man who brought me here said I would be staying with a Mr. Fielding.  Since you're here, I assumed it would be you."

He seemed to roll the answer around in his head, as if searching for lies in the simple words.  Finally he nodded his acceptance and moved towards his bed.  "Who are you?"

"My name's Will Turner," he answered easily, trying his best not to stare when, once more, it looked as though Fielding was trying hard not to believe what he said.

Another nod.  "You are not to touch any of my things.  If I find anything out of place, I will bring it up with an officer."

A raised eyebrow was all that comment gained him, but Will wasn't going to dispute the claim.  He knew how the upper class treated people like himself, had seen it all his life.  He was hardly surprised to find that Mr. Fielding would fall into the same patterns as everyone in Port Royal.

"This is your first time on a ship?" the man finally asked, training to be polite ruling over whatever feelings he had towards Will.  He looked the boy up and down when he said that, in a way that made him feel righteously angry at being judged so easily.

"Not at all.  Last year I was on three different vessels."  He didn't mention that two of them had been manned by pirates.  He knew that would get him no points, even for excitement.  "My fiance's father, Governor Swann, has given us this trip because he was aware of my love for sailing."

That seemed to take the man's pompous demeanor down a notch or two.  Will, though, felt remorse as soon as those words left his mouth.  He didn't want to fall back on Elizabeth every time he was faced with a situation he didn't like.  Truly, that was a large reason he had yet to set a date for the wedding.  He was afraid he'd come to rely on being the son-in-law of the governor. 

Still, there was a certain satisfaction to be gained by putting men like Mr. Fielding in his place.  He would have never thought, without some prior knowledge, that someone like Will (standing there in less than fashionable shirt and trousers, worn boots, and the muscles and calluses of someone who knew of hard work) would be marrying someone like Miss Elizabeth Swann.  Or even that he knew her.

After a few moments, the man moved back towards the door.  "It is around dinner time," he commented, leaving Will alone with a backwards and weary glance towards his chest.

The boy shook his head.  He hoped that the other passengers were more accepting than Mr. Fielding.  He had never run into such a problem on a ship before this.

That brought pause.  Of course he had never run into the class prejudices of a man like Fielding, because on pirate ships there was only rank, not class.  As a partner in crime to Jack, Will had been seen as having a high, though unofficial, rank.  Even Gibbs and Annamaria had hesitated in giving him an order.

Originally he made fun of the crew, remembered mocking Jack for the people they would be forced to sail without of Tortuga.  But in the end they proved to be good sailors.  More important, in the end, they proved to be good people.

He shook off the memories, telling himself that it would be best to not get the least bit nostalgic for the Pearl.  He missed the sea, not piracy.  This trip was going to be fun, and he was going to enjoy it even if he had to force himself to.  Because, after the trip was over, he'd be back on land, married, and most likely being groomed by Governor Swann and the Commodore for some higher position or another.

Two days after first boarding the ship, Elizabeth had already made friends with all of the other passengers except Mr. Fielding, and, through her, Will was on good terms with them.  He didn't feel awkward sitting with them at the captain's table, chatting about inane things that his fiancee had previously explained.  So, a few days after she had taken him aside and made a point of introducing him, Will found himself embroiled in both a game of chess and a conversation.

"He is a bit of an odd chap, isn't he?" the Colonel was starting on his new favorite subject, that of Mr. Fielding.  He had already exhausted Will with questions of his roommate, upset when the young man knew little more about the man than anyone else.

Mr. Simon, who was so quiet that sometimes they would forget he was there, simply nodded.  Mr. Yardley (who insisted that everyone call him Edmund, though no one did), decided to speak up in place of his friend.  After a very long sip of his drink, and a loud clearing of his throat, he glanced over the other occupants of the small room they had commandeered.

"What did you say before about him and that chest of his, William?"

He looked up, eyebrows lifting in surprise at being addressed.  He normally preferred to simply listen and throw an opinion in here and there.  "He, uh, is very protective of the trunk that he keeps in our room.  It is always locked, but he checks on it every time he enters the room.  Sometimes he accuses me of _looking_ at it."  Will laughed, and the others joined in with him.

"Oh, are you talking about him again?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes.  "You are all worse than old women:  gossiping on whatever topic you may come across."

The older men smiled fondly at her, Will blushed and turned his attention back to the chess bored.  The Colonel always insisted on playing white, and it was obvious that less black pieces were spotting the squares.  The blacksmith had been told he was doing very good for someone who had barely known the rules of the game, but he always felt like a fool when playing against the other passengers.  Even Elizabeth beat him the time they played against one another (thankfully that had been in private).

"Well," Will began, wondering from the looks if the others thought he was supposed to, "it unusual that everyone on bored has noticed his behavior.  He acts like he has something to hide."

Colonel Barton nodded eagerly, as if that was the opening he had been looking for, and spoke, "I think it would be most enjoyable to find a way into that chest of his.  And imagine the look on his face when we can confront him with the dirty secret he keeps so close to his heart!"

Elizabeth made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat.  Simon simply shook his head.  Yardley looked ready to jump from his seat and run down the hall to the room Fielding and Will shared.

"He would notice.  And what if it is nothing more than a collection of, say, love letters from a sweetheart?"  That gave the men pause, and Will knew he had chosen the right metaphor.  He, himself, could appreciate keeping such personal affects close to him and protected.  If he had time to truly woo Elizabeth he would have kept every letter that she sent to him as a treasured piece of his soul.

He glanced at her when he thought that, and noticed how her lips were thinned in concentration.  She then noticed his attention and gave him a quick smile, and a certain look.  He knew she wished to speak with him, and it would be wise to meet her in private as soon as possible, as to not bring down her good-natured wrath.

***

Will had stayed in his room for as long as he possibly could. The
nervous twitching of his fingers--wishing they were back at the smithy, working
on a new sword or even a simple dagger or knife--was beginning to draw unwanted
attention from Fielding, who had taken to sitting at the edge of his bed and
looking back and forth between Will and his trunk. The younger man wasn't sure
whether he should be offended by the fact Fielding thought he wanted to steal
what was in the chest, or complimented by the fact someone thought he had any
idea of what was going on with the luggage.

It was just liked how Elizabeth was assuming he knew what she wanted. He
was sure she didn't mean to make him so nervous. The entire thing was
probably so simple that it would make him feel foolish afterwards for being so
concerned.

"That's it!" He jumped up, ready to finally go face Elizabeth and see
what she was becoming upset over currently.

The words had an undesired effect on his roommate, who also jumped up,
but acted as if he was ready for Will to charge at him. The boy simply shook
his head, walking towards the door. "Thank you!" he yelled behind him,
smirking when he turned his attention back to the hallway, leaving a sputtering
Fielding staring after him.

At the door he paused, taking a deep breath. A look down at his shirts
and pants revealed that they were in perfect order, if needing a good ironing.
Taking a deep breath he knocked, and then entered when he heard confirmation
from inside.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked, cautiously, watching the back turned to
him.

Elizabeth sat on her bed, and brush running through the silky strands of
her hair. It caught the small light the room offered and seemed to shine.
Will wanted to reach out and run his hands through the threads, but knew that
even with her growing level of comfort with him, that would not happen until
after the marriage.

"I wanted to talk."

He made a face, glad she couldn't see it. "About?"

She turned, and the serious look she gifted him with sent him spiraling
into confusion. What was it that had upset her so much? He had been trying so
hard to keep from showing her his own unhappiness, but had he made a mistake
somewhere?

"Why do you miss the sea, Will? Do you miss sailing, or pirating?"

"Elizabeth?" his voice portrayed his emotions well, in that he had no
idea what she was trying to get at, and was sure he'd feel taken aback by what
ever she might be suggestion.

"Why was it that the first time we have discussed Jack since the day he
left was here on this ship?"

Again she was asking something he couldn't understand. She was searching
his head for something that he wasn't sure was there for her to see. And if
it were, he wasn't sure he'd let her view it.

"I missed the sea," he finally said, voice soft and hoping for
understanding. "In some ways I miss our time with Jack, but there were so many
bad moments: Almost losing you, almost losing my own life....I would never want
you in a situation such as that again."

"But if you were alone? If I were to stay in Port Royal?" she prodded,
causing him to take a deep breath and thinking quickly.

He blinked at her, a very owlish look that made him look far younger than
he was. "Are....Do you believe that I prefer a life of piracy to a life with
you? That I'll leave you when I am given another chance to run off with
Jack? If that were the case, I would have left after the Pearl the first time
Norrington took his eyes from me."

She gaped, than shook her head. "I'm sorry, Will. I was being
paranoid." After a poignant pause, she added, "but can you really blame me?
Ever since he left, and took all of your links to piracy away, you have been
melancholy. Not even plans of our wedding--a day which will surely be
wonderful--have been able to draw you away from your listless daydreaming."

Will's look was hurt, displaying a pain deep within that he could not
place. "You're right. By gods, you're right. I have been out of sorts, and
have paid little attention to the most important thing in my life: you. But,
on one account, you are so very wrong." He gave her an earnest look. "He could
never take away all of my links to piracy, unless he drained me dry of all my
blood and placed upon me a new name."

The young man paced, much as he had recently done in his own room. He
was shaken by the entire conversation, and did not feel good about how it would
end. There was something else in Elizabeth's words, and underlying meaning or
emotion that he wasn't quite able to ascertain. It came to his attention
every time Jack Sparrow was mentioned, even by himself with simply the look in
her eyes.

Did she expect him to come out and say that, yes, he missed Jack? That
he might miss Jack enough to leave her--that he had debated about it with
himself almost constantly over the months since the Black Pearl had last been
seen in Port Royal? Or...was it that she hoped he did say his feelings for Jack?

He tried going over the conversation in his mind, as she sat there, maybe
doing the same, maybe trying to come up with some retort. He picked apart
the pieces until a headache came upon him, an aching beat in the back of his
skull, pounding against his inner ear. Will was aware of the fact that he would
never be seen as the intelligent partner in their match, that Elizabeth would
always be one step ahead of him.

It was the same way with Jack. Maybe he simply attracted smarter people,
or maybe it was compensation. It wasn't that he was dimwitted, just that he
lacked the formal training that a governor's daughter would have, and the
training in the cruel, real world that a pirate such as Jack had achieved.

"You're thinking badly of yourself again, aren't you?" The soft voice
broke the silence of the small room.

The blacksmith offered her a slight grin. "Maybe I'm thinking badly of
you?"

"By all means, do!" she interjected, a slight laugh being pulled from
her--music to Will's heart. They both continued with the nervous laughter.
The noise got louder, and then still louder, until it could barely be called
laughter. It sounded more like the gasps of a person who refuses that he or
she is dying.

"Will...I just, I need to say one thing to you. Afterwards I don't know
how you will react. You may hate me, or agree with me. I think you need to
hear this, though."

He sobered, waited for her to continue, having no idea what he could say
after such somber words. Elizabeth waited a beat more, as if collecting
herself, preparing herself to receive a great blow. Will wondered if he should be
doing the same.

"You see, Will, it's about Jack. More specifically, us and Jack." She
frowned, obviously contemplating how to word her soliloquy.

Will might later find it ironic that at the exact moment she was to clarify
her words, their world fell apart...quite literally. A loud noise rang
throughout the cabin, the ship jerked painfully, and the few pieces of
furniture and some of the ceiling's wooden boards jostled around the cabin. One hit Will
particularly hard in the arm, but thankfully did little damage except leave a
nasty bruise on the muscle.

***

He dove for Elizabeth, pushed her out of the way of a flying lamp. "What's
happening?" she cried, clinging to him and glancing around the now darkened
cabin.

"It feels like we hit another ship." He paused, knowing that sounded absurd.
"Or were rammed."

The sound of alarmed voices did not take long to reach them. Cries of
"Attack!" and "Pirates!" soon filled the nether regions of the ship. The two
young adults, hearing such things, found a strange calm descend upon them. Private
and heartfelt conversations were complicated, sea battles were much simpler
and easier to deal with in the end.

They pulled apart, each rushing to the door. "Wait! I have to get my
things," Will suddenly remembered, feeling a bit better that he had brought his
sword and dagger along. At the suggestion Elizabeth nodded, running back to
her own luggage. He spared a moments thought to what surprises she had in store
while running down the hallway (skidding hard at the turn) to his cabin.

Fielding, expectantly, was crouched protectively over his trunk. Will barely
glanced his way as he dug through his things and came up with the weapons he
had so painstakingly crafted for purposes just such. Strapping the leather
around his waist he ran back towards the door, mentally reviewing various
fighting techniques he had studied since the last time he had been forced to go
against a live opponent.

"Wait! Turner! Wait!" The young man closed his eyes, a long-suffering
breath being let out in a hiss through his front teeth. He waited for his
roommate to continue. "We mustn't let them get my chest! It would be awful!
Awful! The things they would do!"

He glared at the little man, wondering how people could feel so desperately
about material possessions. Jack was much the same way about the Black Pearl,
and it had never quite sat well with Will. A nagging part of him had
suggested on various occasions that he was simply jealous, but that was
preposterous: He, as a talented and hardworking, loyal, and good man, had no reason to feel
envious of a large amount of wood shaped into a pretty form.

"We'll be lucky if we manage to stay alive, with the ship well enough to
reach land, Fielding. Your box will have to wait." Will knew he was being
overly harsh, but also knew that Elizabeth would shortly be running around the boat,
attempting to stop whatever dastardly band of pirates dared interrupt her
vacation. He'd much rather be guarding the woman he loved than some chest that
belonged to a person who he could barely stand.

Fielding opened his mouth to protest, but Will didn't notice--he was already
out the door. He met his fiancee just down the hall, and the two exchanged
brief questions as they readied for a fight. She was, as he had suspected,
dressed in trousers and a sturdy shirt. The surprising fact was the small
pistol that rested at her hip (he had been unaware she knew how to shoot).

"Elizabeth," his voice was shaky as he spoke. "Before we go, I realize I…
never had the opportunity to do this. It had always been assumed. This isn't
the best moment for this, not at all, but...." He quickly fell to one knee,
realizing that a slow romance was out of the question. "Will you marry me?" he
held out an ornate golden band--forged by his own hand and showing his fine
craftsmanship--and as soon as she took it (a charmed expression on her face) he
stood.

Will could tell she appreciated the haste, because she slipped the ring on
quickly and gave him her wickedest of smiles. "Come on, we have some pirates
to scare off!"

He laughed at her boldness, at the way she came alive in such situations. He
had never seen her so excited as when they were in the middle of battle. Her
cheeks would flush and her eyes sparkle, and he would feel more complete with
her than ever. It was yet another reason he thought they were meant to
be--no other woman had ever complimented him so well, even when facing danger.

They ran up top with little interference. In fact, they had to fight against
the tide of merchant sailors running downwards. When they reached topside it
dawned on them why everyone was so frightened.

The ship was no Pearl, but it was formidable. The merchant ship was having
it out with the pirate one, but to no avail. Somehow, despite the fact the
Galleon was an extremely fast boat, the pirates seemed to have caught the crew
by surprise. No cannons were fired at the enemy vessel, and they were not
foolhardy to approach close enough for their sails to be torn by the blades
attached to the masts. Will guessed that some form of betrayal was involved,
most likely whoever was on night-duty aboard the ship, while the captain, pilot, and
other offices nestled down in somewhat comfortable beds.

He had no time to see if what he thought was true, and members of the
merchant ship's crew were tucked safely away on the other boat. Instead he
found himself dodging the blasts of firearms and blocking the blows of blades. A
shot rang out behind him and he, in the corner of his mind, noted that Elizabeth
was a good enough aim to hit shoulders and stomachs.

A twist, a parry, a quick swiping of his sword. He was an extremely good
swordsman, was most likely better than any of the pirates…as long as they
fought fairly. But he had been taught that such things never happened. That there
was only one rule that really mattered: what a man can do, and what a man
can't do.

Thanks to prior experience with pirates, it came as no surprise that he was
soon fighting against multiple opponents. Some would have swords, but attempt
to move in close enough to pull their daggers. Others would have weapons that
most classically trained swordsmen (which pirates would assume he was at
first glance) would have experienced difficulty fighting. And, of course,
there were a fair share of kicks, punches, and opponents attempting to sneak up from
behind him.

He lost sight of Elizabeth for a moment, ducking under one man, than rolling
over the back of another. Sweat glistened on his brow, his breathing was
becoming sharper, louder. He felt alive, felt wonderful, as if the world was
before him and all he had to do was beat up a few buccaneers and it would fall.

The clanging of metal, that to someone who hadn't been a blacksmith for years
would have sounded jarring, rang out like bells in the otherwise silent
night. Shouts, screams, yells for help and mercy, became white noise against
the grunts of warriors fighting for their lives with well honed skills. In the
midst of this Elizabeth wove her way in and out of the groups, taking pirates
by surprise and helping others free. Will drove back a pirate, cut through a
shirt with a downward thrust of his sword, and then felt the shorter blade of
his own dagger digging through tough flesh, tougher muscle, and finally the soft
tissue of organs.

He pulled back, hand and knife slick, and continued onto the next pirate that
was unfortunate enough to cross his path. His thoughts were single minded,
crystal clear. He and Elizabeth had to survive, and if they could save the
others while they were at it, that was great.

Another sword to fight. His muscles screamed from the tension and use, he
ignored them just like he overlooked the noise of the people on the ship. The
new blade came down so hard that a spark was created when he quickly blocked,
using the upward motion to swing the other man's arm away from his body. He
thrust, his feet dancing boxed patterns along the gritty wooden planks.

A noise from behind him, a familiar voice crying out, and it was all over for
the fight. Will barely avoided steel through the side of his chest, instead
getting clipped on the upper arm. Not his sword arm, thankfully.

He ran towards the noise. He found Elizabeth with an awfully nasty looking
pirate breathing down her neck. A curse formed in his mind, quickly overcome
with panic, than the realization that panic would accomplish nothing. A
strange apathy fell in his mind that had nothing to do with adrenaline or shock.

Chocolate brown eyes stared into the woman's for a moment, then his wry grin
formed once more. "Parlay," he muttered. A bright, amused light lit her face
from deep within, she was the only other on the ship who would get the joke.
"Parlay," he repeated, louder, loud enough for not a few pirates to hear and
understand.

***

Will knew that Elizabeth was thinking exactly the same thing he was. She
was flashing back to Barbossa's Black Pearl. He could only imagine what her
memories would be like, once more repeating the actions which had lead them on
a grand journey across the Caribbean.

The pirates were looking at them, not trying to hide their attentions.
It was a good guess that they were wondering how two passengers on the
expensive merchant ship not only knew how to fight so well, but knew the pirate
code. If they had been in the same situation, the two captives would be just as
curious.

They were forced to stand, guarded, for what felt like hours, although
surely it hadn't been. Finally the captain was brought towards them, but with
a brief look turned from that course in order to inspect something another
pirate had brought onboard. Will looked, and his mouth became a grim line.

A small trunk, the exact same one he had been staring at for days
whenever inside his cabin and not sleeping, was held surprisingly gently by a
burly sailor. The captain talked briefly with a few others, but Will was unable to catch the words, despite trying desperately. He feared that the chest would
matter more than whatever they could come up with for bargaining.

Glancing around, there was no real hope: The Stella was broken, burning,
and would soon begin its descent into the deep blue waters. There were no
islands within swimming distance. The few not taken prisoners were dead or
dying. The entire situation was grim beyond compare. Still, that didn't mean
there was some way around it, ("It's not possible!" "Not probable") if Jack had
been present they would already be on their way to freedom.

Again Will found that even his own mind compared him to the captain of
the Black Pearl, and found him lacking. He knew that expecting more was
foolish. He was not a military man, not a sailor. Adventure was simply an
inheritance from a man whom he had never met, and who his mother spoke of only
briefly before her death.

Elizabeth took the lead as the captain turned back towards them. "Sir,"
she began, and then stopped as he gave her a fierce look.

"What, exactly, do ye think ye can offer me?" He spoke to Elizabeth, but
was watching Will, waiting for the male to speak.

"I..." the young woman looked at her fiancé, and then, with a tensing of
her hand in his, spoke, "I am Elizabeth Swann, daughter of Governor Weatherby
Swann. If you would return us to Port Royal, you would gain a handsome
reward."

The captain looked at her, sizing her up with a speculative glare. But
Will knew what he was seeing, the same thing the blacksmith saw almost
everyday, and which always made him feel unworthy of Elizabeth's affections.
She was standing tall, proud, chin up, with perfect posture that never saw a day of manual labor. He had never understood how Barbossa could think of her as a
simple maid in the governor's household.

"And this boy, here? 'e has cost me valuable crew," the pirate put in,
Will feeling dejected as the plan fell apart. But, he reminded himself
silently, she would still go free.

"He is my fiancé. My father would also be willing to pay for his
return."

Will, if he had been able to see himself, would have been quite proud.
The only show of surprise was a raised eyebrow, his face managing to remain
neutral at the new information. He was not yet used to being of concern to the
wealthy and powerful. Living almost his entire life in the "disposable" lower
middle class had taught him never to expect others to give money to him when
in need.

"Marrying above your station, eh, lad?" Will simply stared at the man,
unable to think of any smart answer to that.

The entire situation had taken on some sort of surreal aura. The
captain, once learning that they could be worth money, had stopped glaring and
instead seemed almost congenial. That didn't stop him from ordering two
members of his crew to "assist" them on their way to the brig, though.

Exchanging looks once more, Elizabeth and her beau followed. The guards
were strong, the grasp on Will's arm almost bruising. That _was_ his sword
arm, and therefore didn't interfere with the cut that was still unattended.
The bleeding had stopped, and therefore he worried little for it. The most he
could have done was bind it with torn cloth.

"Ya know what I cannae figure out?" one of the pirates, the one holding
Elizabeth's arm, said. "Howabout ya learn'd of 'Parlay'."

Now, there was a problem. They could tell of her childhood obsession
with pirates, but there was no telling how the buccaneers might react. They
might find it offensive, or decide to "educate" Elizabeth further. Either way
it would end with her being hurt.

Telling of the Black Pearl, and Jack, could also go badly. There was
always a chance that the pirates were on good terms with Jack Sparrow, but Will
thought that was doubtful. From what he understood, despite the fact the Pearl
was accomplishing great feats of pirating, and decimating whatever troops
they might come upon, other pirates still took offense to better pirates in the
ocean.

Which was foolish, though Will knew better than to ever tell anyone that.
The little bit of information he was able to draw from the Commodore (after
many insults and curses towards Jack) made it sound as if he, despite all of
the laws he was breaking and ships he was taking, was not top priority. He
wondered if that was because Jack had some form of morals backing every move he
made. An "honest" pirate who would rather leave others alive than order a
massacre.

"I knew someone who was a pirate," Will decided was the best excuse.

"Eh? A pirate?" Both of their guards stopped, which in turn forced them
to do so. "What would a lad 'bout to marry the gov'ner's daughter know 'bout
pirates?"

"We went drinking," he raked his brain for any idea, "some other people I
know and myself. They left to, well, you know," he gave the two looks that
said it all, "and I was there, drinking. He was drunk, he sat down next to me,
just started talking." It was almost enough to think of it as a real
memory--he could see Jack doing just that: The older man loved to confuse and
annoy others.

"Ah," the pirate at his arm said, knowingly, as if such things happened
all the time. "But it was the code he talked about?"

That did seem odd. "Not the first time, no. I forget what he was
saying...it was hard to understand him, all his words were slurred. But later
on he mentioned the code. I believe something had come up on the ship he sailed
with, involving it."

Elizabeth watched him, approvingly. He wondered if he should worry that
the girl who would be his wife was liking his ability to lie. Still, it was
unlikely he would ever be able to get one past her.

He noticed, as they stood there, that his weapons, as well as hers, were
tucked into the waist bands of the pirates' belts. A momentary thought of a
crazy escape--pulling his sword out, pushing the guard away, fighting their
way to the upper level--flitted through his mind. But there was no where to
go, no one to help.

"Well, best be gettin' yas down ta the cells," Elizabeth's guard finally
said, and they were moving once again, stepping onto another flight of stairs,
pushing their captives forward first.

At that moment (Will thought the world was becoming nicely ironic,
although still very sadistic) the ship rocked hard. The pirates fell forward.
The sudden movement had caused both the young adults to bend over, grabbing hard
onto the railings. The pirates fell all the way down, without anything but the
stairs and floor to break their fast movements.

The two captives stared at each other. Going through Will's head was a
tally of how many time he had come to be on a pirate ship that was under
attack, and he wasn't sure he liked how large the number was getting. A
blacksmith wasn't supposed to fear for his life at the hands of evil and extremely dirty (possibly drunk) pirates, but at the rate he was going, he would soon be getting into fights in his shop every few days.

***

The sound of canon fire frustrated both of the captives. "This is
ridiculous," Elizabeth said sotto voce, and Will found himself agreeing with
her.

He took the steps two or three at a time and came upon their unconscious
guards. "What are you doing?" The questioning ceased quickly as he ran back
upwards, handing Elizabeth her pistol and buckling his dagger back to his belt.

"Oh," she smiled at him, he smiled back. Once more they were caught in
their own private moment, broken as another barrage of fire hit against the
sides of the boat.

"Up?"

"Up." She went first. She had the gun, could shoot quicker than Will
could lock swords with someone, it made sense. It didn't make him feel any
better about letting the girl take the lead.

As they ascended, a sudden thought took Will back into the past year, and
he paused. Elizabeth kept climbing, but he paid her no heed. "I know those
guns," he whispered, eyes widening, a weight lifting from his shoulders.
"It's the Pearl!"

When he looked to see if the young lady had also noticed, he found her
already topside, probably causing hell. A laugh escaped his throat, flowing
off his lips. He bounded up the stairs, bursting forth into the fury of fighting
with a sharp lookout for anyone he recognized.

There was Gibbs. Anamaria was on the far side of the ship. Cotton he
could see still on the Pearl, loading canons. Will had the realization that no
one seemed outnumbered, and by the amount of people fighting, that meant Jack
had finally gotten a full crew, just like the Black Pearl deserved. Jack....

A large black man flew from his side, saber bared and already bloody. He
was strong, much stronger than Will, but that was something any experienced
person could work around, especially during such desperate moments. The
blacksmith, in a stroke of inspiration, managed to trip the man after a
particularly complicated thrust-and-parry movement. It would normally not have worked, but no one was expecting Will to cheat. And again, his thoughts turned back to the one man who could possibly be leading the attack on this ship.

He heard a noise, a drunken chuckle with a twinge of hysteria. Slipping
past one pirate he made his way towards the noise, having to fight for every
inch he won. And there was the Captain of the Black Pearl, in all his shoddy
glory.

Will was proud that he didn't shout out the name on the tip of his
tongue, or go barreling towards the older man. Instead he hung back, taking on
a particularly easy opponent with a long handled ax. At the...opportune
moment...he went forward and managed to take one of the three opponents
fighting the unstable pirate out of the way.

"Will?" Those dark eyes looked at him for a moment as though Jack thought
he was seeing things (Will was sure it wouldn't be the first time, if he were
simply an hallucination--with as much as the pirate drank, he most likely saw
purple giraffes dancing on water some days).

"Jack," he replied, face completely expressionless.

"Will!" An arm was thrown around his shoulder, the other casually
elbowed an enemy who had been running towards them. "What are you doing here?
And where's the lass? She didn't run off with that Commodore chap, did she? Bad
break, though if you wanted to be a pirate, you just had to ask old Jack
here."

He could have laughed with relief. Same Jack, same Pearl, same situation
he had been in a few times before and wouldn't it be his luck to continue in
the same pattern for years. "No, she didn't run off. We're engaged. And I'm
not a pirate," a glare was given at that statement, because Jack knew very
well he wouldn't be on such a ship if he were, "we're hostages."

An over dramatic wince (though, what did Jack do that wasn't over
dramatic?) followed. "Hostages, eh? Parlay, then?"

"Um, yes." Will was pushed out of the way in time to avoid a bullet
through the skull.

Just as suddenly as their camaraderie-filled reunion had begun, it ended.
Once more, just as they had back when he had helped Jack escape from the
hangman's noose, they were fighting in unison. Back to back they managed to
fend off all attackers.

"After thee girl, again?"

"No, actually. They wanted something else from the ship. We had been
fighting, but were overpowered." He parried a thrust of a sword, lunged, felt
once more the familiar weight as his blade was pushed into an opponent's body.
It disturbed him, how easily he could remember such a feeling, how clear it
stuck out in his mind.

He had been in too many fights, in too short a lifetime, he decided.
Half the royal navy had not seen as much action as he had in a year's time.
But, then again, most pirates had seen just as much, if not more.

Jack was shouting orders as he fought, and even if his crew was busy,
they were being carried out perfectly. It was always a sight, how he switched
from friendly lush to the commanding figure most who had served under him found
familiar. Will had known Jack was capable when they had managed to steal the
boat right out from under Norrington's noise, but it was only after they had
sailed again from Tortuga with a crew that he realized, as foolish as some may
think it was, that Jack Sparrow _was_ a captain.

Anyone could claim that title if they had a boat. Call themselves
"captain" and even make others do it as well. But few could truly command, and
few could instill such respect in a person. That was the difference between Jack
and so many others running around the oceans: he had the knowledge, the
charisma, and the extreme skill needed.

"You have a full crew, I noticed," Will said at a point when both he and
Jack faced each other, having swung around in order to avoid the swipes of
bladed weapons. There was a very soft, muffled noise as their backs hit
against each other. The press of hard muscles felt odd yet comforting to Will, as if fighting back-to-back with the pirate somehow made being in the middle of an awful fight safer.

"Planning on insulting me crew again, are you?" He didn't have to see
the older man's face to know a smile had appeared once more--he simply had to
know that he, too, was grinning at the memory of that particular moment in
Tortuga.

"They were all capable and worthy pirates, I was simply hoping you had
displayed the same luck once more. We both know that luck and you don't always
go hand-in-hand." They turned as one, Will having felt the shifting of Jack's
body moments before it would have become obvious to someone watching.

He was facing most of the ship, now, and his eyes roved over the people
on deck for a split second he had free between severely injuring one pirate and
parrying a thrust from another. Elizabeth had gotten hold of a short staff
and, backed into a semi-circle with two others who had to be from the Black
Pearl, was taking hard swipes at anyone who came near. Will was very relieved
that she appeared to be unharmed, and focused once more on the fight, and,
though he didn't wish to, the emotions roiling through his mind at once more
being near Jack.

"Why did they happen to take you prisoner, mate? Take a fancy to the
girl?" Will could actually hear the smirk in the captain's voice. "Take a
fancy to you? Should've claimed to be a eunuch, bet ya they'd believe it."

"Yes, that's exactly it. I tried using the eunuch excuse, but they made
me show them the truth." There was a sudden stop of all movement from Jack,
before he continued on in the fight. The stop cost him a needed second,
though, and Will found himself being pushed forward as his partner had to take
a step backwards to narrowly avoid a blow.

"That," a breathless voice finally told him as they regained their
momentum once more, "was not funny." But Will still smiled, because something
in the tone told him that was not at all what the pirate was thinking.

***

"There's bad luck again...leave you alone for a few months and you go and
grow a sense of humor."

"You were the one who decided to leave me alone." Will winced as soon as
the words left him.

Jack seemed to consider them, too. Exactly the thing Will didn't want:
he had noticed the intent behind them. "Why were you and the little bit out
here on the big bad waters all by your lonesome and on a merchant ship?"

They broke apart, just in time for Will to be jarred against a gunwall.
Glaring, he slashed at a neck, jumping first onto the wall, and then flipping
over the pirate. He noticed a quick glance--a clear order--given his way by
Jack, and soon he was running up onto the poop deck, taking care of the enemy
blundering around there.

"You never answered my question, mate." Jack was on the stairs, dueling
with an opponent who had proven to be quite a good swordsman. But Will didn't
worry, he had fought against Jack before, and knew just how skilled he could
be. And Jack hadn't been trying to kill him.

Will swung his sword around wildly for a moment, taking his opponent by
surprise, and then kicked him right in the groin. He winced in sympathy,
patting the guy on the head before pushing him down the steps and into another
man, who had been about to offer assistance. Captain Jack Sparrow gave his
patented smirk as he ascended to the flatter surface of the poop.

"It was for me, a gift."

They were thankfully being given a moment to catch their breaths, Jack
surveying the work of his crew with a critical eye. "Taking gifts from the
lass, now? More of a pirate than admitted, ye are."

"It was a gift from Governor Swann, an engagement gift for the both of
us." He sighed, in some ways Jack was right. Taking gifts from Elizabeth was
taking advantage of the "treasure" he had so longed for, her money and her
status being used for his own ends. The only thing that justified the trip in
his head was that he wasn't the one who had decided upon it, had even protested
against it.

Jack raised his eyebrows. He was still watching the pirates scurrying
around the ship, seemingly searching for someone amidst the many faces. "And
whys about would the kindly Governor be giving you lovebirds a trip?"

"Elizabeth asked him to." Will kept to short answers...they were the
least likely not to get him into trouble. He knew it was a foolish thing to
want; Jack Sparrow brought trouble upon anyone around him.

"And why for was the lovely Miss Swann asking for such a thing?"

"She thought I would like it."

"Ah," as if that answered everything. Maybe for Jack it did. Maybe he
had an uncanny ability to read between the lines and find out that which Will
wished to keep from him. "Because you seemed to be missing the sea?" So much
for the "maybe".

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"In a manner of speaking you were staring off into the distance every
time at her fancy mansion, 'membering the feel o' the spray and the rock o' the
ship." Jack stopped his searching, took a few swaying steps until he was right
at the other's side. "I tolds you, Will, someday you're gonna have to square
with the pirate in ye, savvy?"

"I missed the sea, Jack, not pirating," he clarified, but even his
protest seemed to enliven Jack.

"But the excitement, what would the sea be without that? Action is what
makes the blood inside you boil, what draws you back to the cold-hearted
embrace of seafoam and salt water."

"Just because it's what you like, doesn't mean that is what I enjoy about
the ocean. Sailing does not just regard piracy. There are many other
occupations that would give me a life on the open sea."

"Aye. But none which calls to you so strongly, eh?"

Will was ever so thankful as someone noticed the two unoccupied men
standing on the poopdeck. "I never said it called to me."

They both stood casually, and the wait seemed to last for entire minutes
as the enemies ran up the stairs. There were three pirates, two of them lanky
and tall (it was always amusing to see Jack seemingly so small against the
taller males they would be fighting), one shorter and stocky. All brandished
their weapons with yells.

Just before a cutlass came down upon Jack's neck he moved, swaying to the
side and swiping his blade at the opponent. Will was quickly moving back and
forth between a sword and a pirate who had grabbed a marlinespike at the last
minute before battle broke. Of course he would be the one unfairly attacked
when the captain of the Black Pearl stood within arms length of him.

He lost track of everything except his own fight. Too focused on the
straining of his arm and the pains from small cuts and bruises painted over his
flesh, he barely noticed when suddenly the man with the sword was gone.
Standing in his place was the smirking vision of pirating legend, Jack. He had
distracted the pirate with the marlinespike more than long enough for Will to
finish him off with a single well-aimed slash.

"It does call to you," at first he was confused, but then was reminded of
their conversation before the fighting once again started. He was surprised
that Jack was displaying a better memory than him.

Will crouched down, cleaning his blade on the least unsavory piece of
clothing which covered one of their fallen enemies. Jack continued on without
acknowledging the glares Will shot at him from the corner of his eyes, "You
wouldn't be as great a fighter, wouldn't take such pride in the work, if you
didn't feel your father's blood within ye."

"What's your sudden interest in me? You have a full crew, and no need of
a young blacksmith."

Standing, Will held his sword gently at his side, glancing down at
himself and trying to make a mental tally of the injuries he had received. He
was still excited from the fighting and unable to feel the pain that would surely hit him in a few hours, bringing with it not a few death wishes. That was
always the case, but at least his body usually waited until he was out of
danger to begin harassing him.

"Yes, I do have a full crew. All of them tried and true, with a few
youngins in the mix." Jack once again looked down at the crew, watched their
fighting and looting, pride glowing in his features. "I took note of what
happened last time I had a crew on my Pearl: I made sure everyone is as
trustworthy as a pirate can be."

Jack paused, following a fight with his eyes for a moment, mouth
whispering encouragement to a twenty-something pirate with a saber. Will also
turned his attention to the match, feeling an untraceable twinge at how easily it had distracted Jack. Watching the pirates was exciting, of course, but he winced every time blood was drawn or a bruise was made.

"Maybe," Jack continued after turning back to face Will, "I'm simply
concerned about that loyalty. You may be a bit overeager about bravery and
heroism, but I've trusted you with my life, and would do it again. You'd be a
great match for this crew, mate. You'd get along with all of them, and they'd like you." He took a breath. "Savvy?"

Will was touched, in a way. Jack was saying things that no pirate should
ever be expected to mutter, and obviously meaning them. From the serious
look on Jack's face he knew that it was a matter of almost painful confession.
"Savvy," was the only response he could give to that, but it seemed to cheer
Jack up--making Will wonder if he didn't just agree to some deal he hadn't
known they were making.

***

"There," they had not spoken while the fighting continued to rage around
them, so Jack's sudden pointing took Will by surprise.

"What?"

Jack smirked, waggling a finger at one figure moving towards the captain's
quarters. "The unbeloved ruler of the ship is making his move to escape."
Will could tell from his voice that he thought it a very cowardly thing. Jack
would never leave his crew like that.

"So? How is he expecting to get away?" Will ran carefully after Jack as he
took off towards the stairs.

"No idea, mate, but I'm not about to let him get away with me loot."

They reach the door just before it swung shut, Jack stopping its motion with
a booted toe. He then kicked it into the wall, pouring into the room. Will
was right behind him, sword ready and waiting for the fight that would surely
come.

"Ah, captain." Jack's tone was smooth, friendly sounding. Will would have
to someday ask whether he purposely played up the seeming harmlessness of his
normal actions whenever in such a situation. Still, there was something
sinister in the way his voice slid over the words, something that Will wasn't
very used to hearing.

"Sparrow," the man acknowledged. He turned, the skin shining with sweat on
his large forehead.

"Captain Sparrow to you, mate," was the predictable answer.

Jack sauntered forward about two feet, stopping before he was within
arms-reach. The other captain had no weapon in his hand, as if he had really
been expecting a clean getaway. The only thing near him was a chest--Mr. Fielding's chest. Will wondered if that was what the Black Pearl was after.

"I've heard about ye, Sparrow. I knows what ye's after." The captain's pale
eyes narrowed. "It's me treasure, me find."

A laugh was the only thing that greeted those words. Jack lifted a hand, an
obvious request for the chest, but the captain made no move to give it to him.
So Jack raised his sword arm, and pointed the blade towards his enemy.

"You've heard about me? Then ye'd know not to put forth a challenge--I'll
win, hands down."

The look given to Jack at those words confirmed them, but still the captain
seemed unable to take the other option of surrendering. Instead he put the
chest down on the table at his side, and drew his own blade. His movements
seemed jerky and clumsy to Will, who was used to his own and Jack's abilities.
It was obvious that this pirate captain had little to no formal fencing training.

"I'll not be letting ye get to that treasure, Sparrow. It's mine by
rights."

"By rights it belongs te' neither of us," Jack corrected, emphasizing his
words with a lazy slash of his sword towards the other captain.

The opponent's eyes were furtive, trying to find some means of escape from
the obviously better swordsman baring down upon him. He sidestepped, coming
almost halfway around the room before Jack decided to stop him. A quick swipe
and Will's former captor had blood slowly dripping down his cheek.

"What, no fighting spirit? Do ye honestly think I'll let ye go so easy?"
Jack made a lethargic thrust, allowed it to be parried, and he was suddenly
between the other captain and the chest.

Will met his eyes for a moment, and began edging towards him, and away from
the other captain. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, but had some
ideas. Everyone was after the chest, and Jack had at least one hand full
trying to keep his opponent at bay. That meant it was Will's job to fetch it (he
winced at the word his mind supplied, knowing how easy it would be to simply
fall into a pattern of doing whatever Jack wanted).

"It's my treasure, Sparrow. Damn ye, ye don't have a monopoly on these
types, no matter what ye think."

"No one else was willing to try, not before this. Risk wasn't worth enough
before, eh? But for this chest," Jack nodded towards the case which Will was
within feet of, and getting closer, "for what it promises...it's worth a crew,
a ship."

"It's worth the same for ye!"

Jack's eyes narrowed, and this time his blade struck true once more. The
captain let out a shout, free hand clutching at his wounded side. Will moved
again in the moment of distraction, and had the small trunk in his hands within
seconds. All he could do afterwards was watch the blood dripping onto the
planks within the cabin, and glancing at where it stained Jack's sword.

He was playing with the other pirate, taking his time and savoring the
moment. The idea made Will nauseous. He had the chest, that meant that they
could leave, but Jack made no move towards the door, and the wild look in the
captain of the ship's eyes made Will stay behind the protective barrier Jack
offered.

The ship rocked from an explosion, and both the captain and Will let out
surprised gasps. Jack acted as if he'd been expecting it, which was likely,
and managed to keep perfectly balanced as the solid wood beneath them swayed
sharply to either side. Will clutched at the chest with one arm, pressing it
hard against his torso, and with the other gripped the bolted down desk.

"Your time's up and luck's out, mate. Stand aside now and I'll be willing to
let ye go without anymore bloodying."

The other captain hesitated, glancing from Jack, to his sword, and then to
Will with the trunk. He seemed about to refuse, to throw his relatively
worthless life away at a chance to keep whatever it was the pirates were after,
but thought better of it. With a yell he clumsily threw his sword towards Jack and ran out the cabin door.

The sword fell, on its side, to the ground a foot infront of Jack. The two
men left in the cabin stared at the blade for a moment, quizzical looks on
their faces. Finally, Jack shrugged and moved towards about the cabin. Will
knew he was looking for anything else he wanted to take.

"What's in the chest?" Will finally asked, watching the sashaying Jack move
about the small, though nice, room.

Jack glanced at him, then shook his head. "I'll tell you when we're safe."

"We're not safe, now?" As if make Will seem more of the fool, the boat
rocked once more, harder this time.

With his natural sense of ships that he must have inherited from his father,
Will knew the boat was sinking. Shooting a nervous look at Jack, he was happy
to see that they seemed to be finished. Soon they were once more on deck and
facing the fleeing and fighting pirates racing back and forth across the open
space.

"This way." Jack latched on to one of Will's arms, drawing him towards the
side, where wooden planks had been set as bridges onto the Pearl.

Will followed, occasionally glancing over at Jack, a questing look that he
either missed or ignored. It was unnerving to Will, how easy-going Jack seemed
to be, even after what had happened with the captain. Had he always been this
cold? Had he always been so effortlessly ruthless?

The answer had to be yes, Will knew, and he simply hadn't noticed. Hadn't
bothered to pay attention when it suited his purposes. After all, he had
needed someone ruthless to help him save Elizabeth. He was more than a bit upset at himself, but knew he'd have time later, once safely on the Pearl, to berate
himself for the selfishness he had shown the year before, during their great
brush with the undead.

They crossed onto the deck of the Black Pearl, the successful pirates
cheering at the sight of their captain. Will couldn't help but notice the
large amount of treasure everyone seemed to be carrying, but while they had plenty of booty, eyes kept wandering to the chest in his hands. He had to get answers from Jack, because the curiosity was gnawing at his mind...and, just maybe, he was interested in what the treasure was that was so coveted.

The Black Pearl rocked with the sea underneath his feet, and he found himself
easily moving through the crew, following Jack to wherever their destination
might be. He hadn't even seen the ship since the day Elizabeth and he
officially got together, and here he was upon it. A smile came to his face,
and then disappeared as a thought occurred.

"Jack?"

"Hm?" He stopped before they would pass through a door, and Will realized
they were heading towards the captain's quarters.

"Have you seen Elizabeth?"

A chuckle answered him. "Lost track of your girl, have ye? We'll have ta
tie you two together." But his dark eyes narrowed and swept across the large
deck.

Will bit his lip. He hoped that Elizabeth was fine, but at the same time
couldn't be sure she would be. He'd hate himself if anything had happened to
the woman he loved...he had just been too distracted by Jack to notice that he
had lost track of her. That sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen.
 

***

                            
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