Forget and Forgive by Inwe Elanesse

Title: Forget and Forgive
Author: Inwe Elanesse
Email: jack_sparrow_luver@yahoo.ca
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack Sparrow/James Norrington, Will Turner/ Elizabeth Swann
Disclaimer: If this was my doing, I would be rich. I am not rich, so this is not my doing. I don't own it nor do I make money off it.
Warnings: I don't know that there are any, let me know if I missed something.
Feedback: Please do, I don't get nearly enough. Thanks!
Author's Notes: This has not been beta-ed. If you catch a lot of stuff that makes little to no sense, feel free to edit it for me, I would be much obliged.
Summary: The Pearl is shipwrecked on an island somewhere during a storm. James gets thrown overboard in the same storm and washes up on a beach. When he awakens he can't remember who he is, so how would he know he isn't REALLY a part of Jack's crew?

Forget and Forgive
by Inwe Elanesse

* * *

Prologue: Going Under

The wind tossed the ship to and fro so much that it was likely, even with the sails hoisted, that the mainmast would break. They'd already lost Mart over board. Jack had always told him he was too small to be fiddling with the ropes in a storm. Jack had always tried to usher him inside when the worst of them hit. But the little sailor had more fire than the depths of hell itself. Now, chances were, he was finding out.

Mostly they were holding on for their lives. Gibbs latched onto the railing and leaned over, as though grabbing at something, and Jack tumbled across the deck to see what it might be and to keep the man from jumping ship. His leather flask was handing from a cracked piece of wood and he was reaching for it. Jack slapped his hand and pulled him away. He yelled for the sailor to leave it be, that he could have another, get it at next port, as long as he lived to see the next port.

The skies were dark. Hell, Jack couldn't even see through the rain pelting down on his face in torrents. When the clouds exploded in flashes and crashes he could see them, angry, bearing down on him, and he had to wonder what he had done wrong. The waves were so high they were engulfing the ship. The Pearl could handle it though, couldn't she?

He had tied his hat to his head, pinned it through a dreadlock, actually; he wasn't going to lose one of those, and he looked up at the sky.

"Is this the best you can do?" He screamed and let go of the rail. He raised his hands into the air and wailed at the top of his lungs, no louder than the sound of the thunder and the water and waves toppling over his crew. "Can't you try harder to bring me down? You'll never take me!" He laughed then.

It was a direct challenge. The storm was calling a duel, and Jack would gladly fight back, had he anything that could harm the sea and her foul temper. She did get in a fit sometimes, didn't she?

Jack drew his pistol and fired into the sky, into the clouds, three loud shots, trying to overpower the water in his ears and the noise. Usually Jack thought the sound of the ocean was beautiful and soothing, but not when she was set on killing him. He laughed again, and with a deep breath, pulling as much air as possible into his lungs, he screamed.

* * *

"Man over board!" James spun to the voice and looked at the finger pointing. There was someone just hitting the water when he caught sight. He stripped off his jacket and handed someone his wig and cap, then ran to the side of the ship.

"Gillette, try to keep 'er steady."

"But sir, you cannot possibly think that—"

"Do as you are told Gillette, if never again." He made no more explanation and dove into the angry sea.

It was cold down there and it stung the wound on his arm he had received from the first man to lose his weapon as the ship heaved in the storm. He tried to open his eyes briefly under the waves, but it stung too badly, and he had to surface to look around. People on the ship were pointing to the body floating face down in the water. He swam over to it, and the sea seemed surprisingly calmer when he was in it than when he was battling it on the ship. He tucked the man under his arm and sidestroked his way back to the ship.

James climbed the side with a little difficulty and handed the limp body of the man to the officer there. Someone dragged him away to try to revive him, but just then another wave took the side of the ship, and something broke loose.

James saw the barrel come flying at him as though someone had thrown it, when in fact it was the sea herself that had flung it at him with such force, but he was unable to get out of the way.

It hit him flat in the face. He was till conscious when he hit the waves, but when he struggled to move he found he couldn't. Everything was so much fuzzier than it had just been. He glanced up to see the ship before it was engulfed in black.

* * *

"Father, when I grow up, I want to be a pirate."

"A pirate? Why would you want to be one of those?"

"Well because they sail the seven seas, they are free, and they get lots of gold to buy pretty things."

"Well that is all well and good, son, but you know, pirates also hurt people to get what they want. You've not the spirit to hurt people."

"Oh no."

"Then pirating's not for you."

"Well what else can I do, father?"

"Well my boy, let me tell you about the navy."

* * *

He sat up and opened his eyes when the alarm went. He jumped from his bunk and dressed himself with haste. The other men around him paid him no mind as he made his bed to perfection and was the first to be standing at its end when the lieutenant came to inspect. He was only fifteen, too young to have signed the articles, but he'd lied to get aboard. He'd still be the youngest even if what he had said was the truth, but too young or not, he was going to be the best officer in the navy some day.

* * *

He wept the day he left his mother and father. They were getting old and he knew that this was probably the last he would see of them. He was embarking on a grand adventure. They were going to the Caribbean and this would be his first trip as a lieutenant himself. The captain was a bit of a bugger and he would be travelling with the Governor of Port Royal, Swann, and his daughter Elizabeth.

He was still young for his post, but they found him out a few years back. He was punished, of course, and severely, but he had the experience and he had the qualities, so they'd promoted him. Of course, it did help that his uncle was Admiral, though the Navy hadn't known that until they found out his age.

He smiled and did not wave to his parents as the ship left port. He waited until his tears subsided before administering orders to the crew.

* * *

He smiled as the young boys and girls ran around outside the fort. They were screaming and laughing playing a game involving the navy and pirates. He remembered playing such games when he was young, though the actuality was less fun and excitement than fulfilling and satisfying.

He stood from his desk and walked to the window to see young Will Turner and Miss Swann. She was the foolhardy pirate and he the Naval Captain, as usual, and she paid no mind to the tears in her dress or the dirt on her face. She was far too spirited for her own good.

She would be fifteen in the fall and she was finally growing out of her freckles and growing into her height. When she was younger she was rather gangly, but... she was shaping up to be a fine young woman.

* * *

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness."

"Captain Sparrow has a dawn appointment with the gallows, I should hate for him to miss it."

"The pirates who invaded this fort left Sparrow locked in his cell, ergo they are not his allies."

"That has got to be the worst pirate I have ever seen."

"Nothing I would lament being rid of."

"This is where your heat truly lies, then?"

"I think we can afford to give them one day's head start."

* * *

James sat up in bed. He'd just had the most horrifying dream of Jack Sparrow, no less. He shook his head and got out of bed, crossing the room to the window and throwing open the blinds.

Funny, he couldn't remember the dream now.

* * *

He smiled at the girl across from him, what was her name? He knew it ten minutes ago. She used to be so lanky as a child. Damn him, what was it?

* * *

The young man held onto the nameless girl's arm. He remembered the man as a child, remembered pulling him out of the water, saving him from certain death. But his name? No that escaped him too.

* * *

The governor, ah yes, a familiar face. He opened his mouth to speak, as him a question but the question eluded him, as did the surname on the tip of his tongue.

* * *

Dreadlocks and beads, kohl and gold teeth, dirty clothes and a ship... a pirate for sure, but which one?

* * *

He gazed at the face before him blankly, and it gazed back in the same manner. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember. Green eyes, brown hair... he was wearing a white wig over top and a jacket and hat fit for someone high up in the navy. He looked very puzzled. He reached out to touch the man... and met cold glass. A mirror, but who was inside?

Chapter One: Stay and Drown

"Is 'e all right?"

"Did ye touch 'im, see if 'e's cold, maybe 'e's dead."

"Looks mighty alive t' me."

"Yea, but ye 'aven't touched 'im."

"What's touchin' 'im goin' t' do 'if 'e's dead?"

"Well, if 'e's dead 'e'll be cold."

"What's touchin' 'im goin' t' do 'if 'e's dead?"

"I jus' mean if ye touch 'im an' 'e's cold, then we know 'e's dead."

"Jus' shut up an go get th' next watch."

He groaned and tried to open his eyes. He fought against the blackness and found that it was too great an effort to pry them open and see what fool thought he was dead. They were talking about him, weren't they? They must be.

"See, 'e groaned, 'e's no' dead."

"Well ye would 'ave known sooner if ye touched 'im."

"Shut up an' get th' next watch!"

* * *

He had fallen asleep, he figured when he awakened the second time. He realized it must have been later. It felt cooler, and so it must have been the night again. He tried to open his eyes again and couldn't, then he realized he actually had, but couldn't see anything because there was something on his face. Maybe because he was lying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow.

He rolled over, and his eyes met the light only to close again with distaste, and he recognised the throbbing in his head as from being both of a headache and from being hit in the head with something. He groaned and tried to open his eyes more slowly, covering his face with his hand.

He opened his mouth, which felt thick and cottony. He wondered if he could speak. He groaned again, but that was the extent of the noise he could make because his mouth was so dry. He turned to face the other person in the cabin with him and they were holding out a glass of something. He moved to take it with shaky hands, then decided to try to sit up and allow them to feed it to him. His eyes came slowly into focus, and he recognised the man there.

He drank the water— ugh, why water?— and flopped back down onto the bed, which made his head hurt more.

He looked at the man carefully and then spoke. "What happened?"

"Dead men tell no tales!"

He sighed, "All right, then go get someone of better conversation, then."

Cotton grimaced, and turned to leave. Jack tried to prop himself up on the bed and waited until Anamaria came into the room. "Anamaria!" He smiled, and she slapped him. Then he felt her arms around him, and he was fairly smothered by her.

"Ana, darling, will ge' off me... now?"

She stepped away and put her hands on her hips. "Ye're a mad pirate but until las' night I never thought ye a fool!"

"Wha' are ye on about?" He rubbed his face exasperatedly.

"Well, Jack, I don' know many men who'll climb th' bloody mast in a storm so bad! Ye're lucky ye didn't get 'it by lightnin' or washed away int' th' sea. Ye're a lucky bastard, ye are, Jack Sparrow!"

"Captain Jack Sparrow t' ye!"

"Not fer a few days! If ye'll feel th' back o' yer 'ead ye'll notice ye've go' a shiner as big as me breast, ye 'ave." He felt the back of his head, and though it was a fairly large bump, he wagered it was nowhere near as big as her breast. He grinned devilishly and reached out to tweak her breast. She slapped him with her full hand and knocked his head back so he saw stars. He shook his head.

"What'd ye do tha' for? I needed t' compare did I not?"

Despite her ire, she laughed at him. "At least it's not fucked wit' yer senses anymore than usual, ye damn dirty pirate." She left and told him she would be back with something to eat.

* * *

"Wha' are we doin' 'ere?" He called out and no one answered, they were readying the jolly boats. "'Ello, is anyone goin' t' tell their captain wha' th' fuck we're doin'?"

Gibbs clapped him on the back with enough force to almost knock him over. "Jus' takin' shore leave, cap'n."

"Oh? Are we now?" He raised his eyebrows and Gibbs laughed. "Well I think I should be th' judge o' that."

"Nay, captain. Ana said yer not fit t' be makin' decisions 'bout the Pearl's welfare."

His eyes got wide and he raced to the rail and looked down at the side of the ship. "Is there somethin' wrong wit' 'er?"

Ana approached and nudged him, then pointed up. "Oh, Jesus!" Jack put his hands to his face and grimaced. The sails were torn to shreds and something was busted so it was hanging right off the mast but with all the bloody damage up there he couldn't even tell what was broken. She directed his attention to the stairs and it appeared that something had crashed right through them; every step was broken. She finally dragged him to the other side of the ship and pointed down and he looked to see the same damage as had held onto Gibbs' flask, but ten times worse, if possible. "Arg ugh!" He dropped to his knees and stroked the railing of his beautiful ship.

"Don't worry, Pearl, we'll get ye fixed up in no time, eh? Ye'll be right as rain." He kissed the smooth wood and jumped back when he felt a splinter embed itself into his hands on the deck. He frowned, "I'm sorry, okay! I can' control th' bloody weather!"

Upon receiving no response, he stood and frowned. "Does anyone know where we are?" There was no answer and he turned to Anamaria.

"We don't know. Threw us off course."

"Is there a port nearby tha' we've seen tha' might be able t' get 'er sea worthy?"

There was a furious shaking of heads, and Jack was suddenly in a very poor mood.

"Fine. We'll 'ave t' beach 'er." They nodded. "Get th' side fixed up first, an' then work on th' mast. We can do withou' th' stairs." There were nods again. "Jus' a patchwork job, good 'nough to tide us over until we can find out where we are an' wha' ports are near enough t' get to withou' sinkin' 'er." Jack was getting the idea that this was not news to anyone, so he turned to Ana. "Was 'at wha' ye were goin' t' do?" She nodded, bloody nodding all the time from everyone, "Good work," he said and clapped her on the back.

Suddenly, the deck seemed to come out from under Jack's feet and he found himself flat on his back staring up at a few faces, everyone was a little more... distorted than he remembered them. He tried to open his mouth to speak but found he could not control even that much of himself and then the faces were gone all together.

* * *

They beached the Pearl, carefully, mind you, and people started to work finding food and making shelter on the beach. It would be no good for them all to die before getting the Pearl fixed, then there would be no one to sail it.

Gibbs carried an unconscious Jack out to the beach and lay him down as gently as possible, but despite his slight build, the man weighed a lot, a lot more than he looked anyhow. Ana would have ordered Mart to sit with him and keep watch of him, because being so small it would be unlikely, at best, that he would be able to help them turn the Pearl over and start to work on her. However, since the little man did not make it through the storm, she remembered with a tear in her eye that she hastily wiped away, she would have to appoint someone else to do it.

After about an hour of looking around for someone small enough to be of little use doing anything else, she realized she was the smallest of the bunch now and frowned; what she wouldn't have given to be a man. She sat next to the incapacitated captain and slouched in the sand to oversee the goings on of the crew.

* * *

By nightfall, Jack had awakened again and was taking his own look of the island. Torch in hand, he moved across the beach, feet dipping into the water, but making sure he was far enough away from high tide that he would not be caught in it should he pass out. It would be dreadful bad luck to drown just as he survived a particularly nasty storm.

The sun dipped behind the palm trees past an inlet whose far shore he stood across from, and left its lingering orange glow for a few brief minutes, while Jack came upon the rocks only a few hundred meters from their camp site. As the last rays of sun spilt through the trees across from him and onto the rocks, Jack looked out at them. He squinted at that little spot of dark and then the sun moved, or the trees that blocked the sun moved, and he could see that whatever it was, was white, not black.

Not being one to pass up a chance to investigate, even at the risk of passing out and drowning in the ocean, Jack put the torch down on the big rock at his side and started out across the other ones.

As he drew closer he saw it could not be a box or another rock, it was moving a little, like fabric in the water. It could have very likely been a blanket or cloth of some kind, but Jack had a dreadful feeling that it was a shirt and that beneath that shirt there would be a person.

He swallowed as the image of Mart holding on for his life to that rope when the wave crashed over them and almost capsized the Pearl. Jack had struggled his way to the little man, holding on over the side of the boat, but then something happened, the rope came untied, something cut it, Jack didn't know, but Mart was lost to the wind and waves and sea. Jack started to strip his clothes off himself, he was going to save that little bastard, but someone stopped him, stopped him long enough to tell him that Mart was dead. There was nothing they could do. He was gone.

Jack swallowed. If it was Mart then he might die himself. It was one thing when one of his crew died in battle, or when he killed someone for insolence, but when he was a good, honest man who was never bad and had nothing wrong with him but a little problem with height, then Jack took the blame on himself. He felt he could have done something. If this was Mart—

He wouldn't let himself think of it anymore. He cleared his throat and climbed out on the rocks a little farther. Sure enough, there was something there more than the fabric, and it was moving a little, with the wind or the water, or maybe it was breathing.

Jack climbed a little faster out there and saw that it was, indeed, a person, and the person was bleeding from their face. They were still bleeding, and they were breathing. They might be alive. Jack stood and tried to hop from one rock to another and he was there sooner than he thought, only a couple rocks away.

The person had dark brown hair, relatively long, and was wearing a white shirt and a pair of white pants and stockings. No shoes. He climbed carefully the last couple rocks and almost jumped back in surprise when his gaze fell upon the tender and broken face. Bruised and bleeding.

Jack swallowed and gently moved his hands under the arms of the figure. He sat on the rock, dangling his legs in the water and tried to pick up the body. Why did things have to be so bloody difficult? He slung the limp body over his shoulder and started to struggle back to the shore. He took the other way this time, there was more water but less rocks and he made it to the shore faster despite the longer distance.

He dropped the body on the beach and tilted the head upward, putting his ear over the mouth and listening, feeling, watching for breath. Once, twice, three times the chest lifted and breath pushed against his ear. He sighed and picked up the figure once again making his way back to the camp.

* * *

"Are ye really as daft as all tha' Jack? Do ye no' think 'e'll clap ye in irons as soon as 'e can lift 'is arms enough t' do so?"

Jack sighed and let his head loll back in exhaustion. "I know ye don't like th' idea of keepin' 'im alive, but if I've told ye once then it's been a million times, we do not kill innocent people. We kill when they try to kill us. Tha' is th' way I work, all right? If ye cannot follow that one simple code of fuckin' ethics, then get the fuck off me crew, savvy?"

Ana closed her mouth and he thought she might pout, but instead she nodded and looked away. "Don' come runnin' t' me when 'e tries t' kill ye."

He grinned his sideways grin, "Like I said, I kill those who try t' kill me first." She laughed, and he went back to the man's side where one of the crewmembers was just sticking a bandage to the man's side. They had taken him out of all those damn clothes and he was now wearing a pair of Jack's breeches, which fit surprisingly well, and no shirt.

Jack examined the man's face. There was a deep cut above his left eye and one that barely missed the artery in his neck, he had been lucky. His hair was shaggy and all over the place, some was still wet and sticking to his face. Jack took a cloth and cleaned the rest of the blood off his face and then off his stomach where something had stuck him in the side.

Jack suddenly felt a little strange. His eyes got that blurriness that had become familiar since he'd fallen off the mast in the storm, and he started to fall forward. Someone grabbed him and pulled him backward, so he would not fall onto the unconscious man, and Jack landed on his arse in the sand.

There was laughter, and Anamaria was the one telling everyone to shut up and get back to work if they wanted to be out of here in enough time that they didn't start to starve.

She leaned over the captain and put her hand to his forhead. "Jack, yer burnin' up. I think ye may 'ave caught a touch o' somethin' in the storm."

He waved her hand away, "Naw, I'm fine, leave me be."

She sighed and put her hand on her hip, "Fine, but if ye're throwin' up yer rum rations tonight, don't come runnin' t' me." Why did she always think he would run to her? He could barely stand! She stalked off, and Jack lay down in the sand staring at the starry sky.

He might have been a little chilly, but he wasn't sick. Just because his head was pounding and he was shaking, just because the stars started to blur above his head, no that didn't mean he was sick. He closed his eyes and felt his head reel as though there was nothing to anchor it in place. He opened them again and the stars were still spinning like his head was still moving. He closed his eyes again, feeling a little better to not have to try to focus on the stars and faded off very soon.

Chapter Two: The Stranger

He slowly came into awareness and tried not to open his eyes at first. He tried to stay silent. There was an arm across his waist, and there was a face pressed against his shoulder, breath on his arm. He tried to even his breathing so it would seem he was still asleep. He heard sounds of people working in the distance, and he was distinctly asleep— well not asleep anymore— on sand, a beach, and the sun's rays beat down on his face.

Where was he? How had he gotten here? He couldn't remember. He tried to think. Where had he been yesterday? What about the day before that? He still couldn't remember. There was a pain in his side and through his head, like he had been bashing it off rocks for days, he might have been, but he couldn't remember. He tried to shift naturally, as though he was asleep, but a sharp pain seared through his side and his eyes flew open as he groaned with distaste.

There was movement at his side, but the person did not awaken. He tried to look around discretely without seeming to be awake. There were several people on the beach and a ship. They were fixing the side. It looked like it had hit something, or like someone had taken a hatchet to it. The mast was broken, too, and the stairs on deck from what he could see. What ship was that? It looked strangely familiar.

There was a person of dark skin ordering people around, pointing at things, and once he caught the sound of that person's voice, he was almost surprised to find it was a woman. Under a man's garb it might have been hard to tell, but he realized now that the shape of her hips and the tapering of her waist might have given him fair warning, if he had been inclined to notice.

The person at his side twitched and muttered, and he tried to turn his head to look at them. It was a man. Long dark hair with jewels, baubles, and pretty things in it. Even a bone or spine or something was sticking out the side from underneath. He wondered if that was comfortable in the least. The man was wearing a scarf around his head, to soak the sweat, he supposed, and his shirt was open to reveal a firm chest and a slim stomach. There were two marks below the man's shoulder, bullet wounds, they seemed. His sleeves were rolled up but he could not see most of the top arm, which was wrapped around him, the man's left. He could, however, see the pirate brand on his right arm and the tattoo of the bird in the sunset.

He tore his eyes from the man's body and focused on his face. It was dark, though likely more from the sun than from the colour of skin of his birth. His eyebrows and facial hair were also dark, like his hair, which was in elflocks. He looked down at the beard, two strands braided with beads on the end. The man's jaw was slack and he could see the glint of the sun off metal teeth. The man's lips were pressed to his shoulder still, and he thought he could feel drool sliding down his arm.

"Ah so yer awake!" Someone was suddenly standing over him and he jumped, much to the chagrin of the person there, and then man at his side rolled over and sat up, going to his belt where, assumedly, there would normally be a knife or gun of some sort.

"Curse ye for breathin', Gibbs!"

The man standing in the sun laughed, and his facial features came into view. His upper lips and chin were bare but he had thick sideburns down his cheeks. "Apologies, Jack, but our man here is awake."

Jack turned and looked down at the man on the sand and smiled, sun glinting off the teeth more now that they were in contact with the light. "Have some food brought down, quickly, and water. Some rum for me, and apples." Gibbs nodded and turned to walk away. Jack turned to face the man still laying in the sand who looked a little confused. "How're ye feelin' mate?"

He swallowed and started to speak, "My head hurts—" he stopped and shook his head. Why was his voice so strange to him? "My side too." He shook his head again and then stared the man in the face. "What happened?"

"Not sure. Are ye goin' t' be sick, mate?" He leaned over and tried to help the man up off the sand.

"No, no, it's not that... I just... where am I? Who... who are you?"

Jack leaned back, and the smile slid from his face. He was suddenly sceptical. "I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow, mate." There was no recognition in the man's face, so Jack tried again. "Black Pearl, Captain Sparrow, Jack, 'that blasted pirate', you know?" He gestured as though offering something to the man to choose from. "You remember me, mate." He sounded very sure of himself and even laughed. There was no response. Then the man's face fell and he was concerned. "Ye remember me, don't ye?"

Green eyes sought the sand for some explanation and finally met the confused brown ones with confusion to rival them. "N-no. I'm... I'm afraid I don't."

"Jack, here's your rum— Jack?" Jack waved Gibbs to silence and turned back to the man on the beach.

"What do you remember?"

He shook his head and struggled to sit up, panic finally settling in. "I-I remember nothing. I- I can't remember anything."

Jack touched his shoulder to get him to relax. "Jus' 'old on, mate, jus' think for a minute." He nodded, and his breathing became even again. "What is your name?"

The man struggled, struggled with the thought and came up with nothing. He felt tears burning the back of his eyelids, and he finally choked and looked back up into those brown eyes again. "I... I don't know. I can't remember. Oh, God, I can't remember my name."

Jack put his hand back on the man's shoulder, and when that didn't help, he took both shoulders and gave the man a quick shake, which shut him up and brought his attention back to the captain. "Ok, mate, ok. Can ye relax? Yer name is James Norrington, all right? Jus' relax. Here," he handed him some bread, water, and an apple, even left the bottle of rum in the sand, "I'm goin' t' go talk t' th' crew, all right? I will be right back. Jus' relax and have somethin' to eat."

James nodded and tried to calm his breathing. He brushed his hands across his face, wiping the beginnings of tears from his eyes. Jack stood, grabbed Gibbs' arm, and dragged him away.

* * *

"What do ye mean 'e doesn't remember anythin'?" Ana's voice was shrill, and he glared at her to keep it down. He glanced back over at the commodore he was so familiar with from his escapades to return the Pearl to him just over a year past.

"I mean he got hit in the bleedin' 'ead and it knocked 'is memory int' somewhere else. 'E doesn't know who 'e is, 'e doesn't remember where 'e's from, nothin'."

"Well what do we do?"

Jack smiled his crooked smile, and his upper body weaved a little, leaning backward finally, and his smile got a little dreamy, a little indulgent, and they knew he had what he thought was a brilliant idea.

"Mates, what do ye think o' 'avin' on our crew a man who prides 'imself on bein' th' best pirate 'unter ever?" There were confused faces all around. "If we've 'im on our side, an' 'e knows all th' ways o' findin' pirates, then we know what they'll expect an' can avoid gettin' caught. 'E's a fabulous swordsman, 'e's got all those naval tactics and battle strategies, an' we can make 'im think anythin' we want."

It took a moment before the smiles broke out. Anamaria was the last to nod and agree. She held out her hand, representing all the others, "Jack, ye 'ave yerself a consensus. Let's get us a pirate 'unter."

* * *

James watched as faces looked over at him now and then watching him eat the bread and fruit. It was not stale or mouldy, and the apples were firm and crisp, so he had no problem swallowing it all down to the best of his ability. He felt a little nauseous afterwards, however he kept it down and felt better that he had eaten something.

Finally, Jack, with a straight line for a mouth and no expression on his face, walked back over to sit with him. He smiled weakly at James, and James smiled weakly back. "What's the verdict?"

"We'll Gibbs says it's called amnesia. 'Pparently, we don' know 'ow long it might last, but it looks like ye're not going t' remember who ye are for a while."

James nodded and leaned back on his elbows.

"Do ye remember anything?"

James shook his head and lay back against the warm sand now. He stared up at the sun, hoping the squinting would help with the knot in his throat and the tears burning in his eyes. He was scared. "I don't remember anything. Not even my name."

"James, as ye recall."

He smiled up at the man who was still standing and he sat down. "Yes, and you are Jack Sparrow, captain of this fine ship."

Jack grinned, "That I am."

"What happened?" He was talking about the ship.

Jack looked over at it and sighed, "I was unconscious at th' time, so I don' know, but there was a pretty wicked storm th' other night, an' it was damaged then."

"She is a beautiful ship."

Jack smiled brightly with surprise over at the man laying down. "Thank ye, she is beautiful, isn't she?"

He lay down beside James after that, and there was a whole lot of silence until finally James spoke again. "So what position am I?"

"Eh?"

"On your crew, what position?"

Jack was taken aback for a second, and then seemed to recall something, or something came to him to smooth out his expression. "Navigator and battle... tactic... technician, or something. Not really a name for it."

"I point and you shoot?"

Jack laughed, "Yes, that's about right."

James nodded, still solemn. There was a long time of silence when Jack stared at James, and finally James turned to stare back. Jack's eyes were deep and suffocating, like they were trying to suck him in and swallow him whole, when James looked into them.

"What's on yer mind, love?"

James swallowed. "I don't... I don't know who I... who I am. You understand, I- I don't know who to trust."

Jack's eyebrows rose at the middle, and it made him look hurt, like he was confused and James had said something wrong. He smoothed it away quickly, though, and removed his gaze from James. "I understand tha'."

"How-however," Jack looked back at him as though to ask him to continue, "I woke up and... your arm was around me, so I suppose I am to assume... we are close?"

Jack was silent and his face was blank. James thought that he put the mask on to cover the lost look he had seen a moment ago. "Close. Close is a good word."

James nodded, "Then... then I guess I can trust you then?" He posed it as a question but hope was in his eyes so strongly that Jack almost wanted to tell him the truth right then, but he smiled instead and nodded.

He rolled on his side. "I'm the lesser of two evils," he said. James looked confused for a moment and Jack smiled, "Ye can either trus' me t' give ye answers when I can," did James imagine that pained look in the man's eyes? "Or ye can hit yer 'ead again an' see if it kills ye or jogs yer memory back."

James laughed and nodded, "I guess I will trust you, then, it seems."

Jack nodded back, "Lesser of two evils." He grinned a secret grin just for James, and James was not sure whether to blush or grin back.

* * *

"So Cap'n, 'ow's it goin' wit' our little amnesiac o'er 'ere?" Jack sat up, propped on his elbows and smiled at Gibbs.

"Same ol', same ol'. Ye mind sittin' wit' 'im for a minute? I've got t' go see Ana for a sec." Gibbs sat down and Jack left for Anamaria's side. She was ordering the men around again and when Jack tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped.

"Oh! What're ye doin' o'er 'ere, Jack? Thought ye were playin' nursemaid to our newest crewmember." Jack smiled an unimpressed smile, and then grabbed her arm to drag her down the beach. She yelled for Crimp to take over. "Wha' goin' on, Jack?"

Jack pulled her into the trees and out of sight before stopping and turning to face her. "Bloody 'ell, this is a disaster!"

She laughed, "What do ye mean? An hour ago ye were praisin' th' lord for givin' us a pirate hunter."

"No no't tha'!" She gave him a puzzled look and he elaborated. He pointed over to the ship, "That!"

She put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. "Wha's yer problem now?"

Jack slumped, "Well 'ow long before I can get be useful, eh? 'Ow long before I can work on 'er?"

"Now Jack, ye 'it yer 'ead. Ye can't be of much use if ye faint e'ery time ye stand up."

"'Ey, I'm standin' now aren't I?" Anamaria reached over and gave him a shove with her hand, and he stumbled backward, his head reeling, and his arse landed in the sand. "Oi, what'd ye do tha' fer?"

She knelt next to him. Jack opened his eyes really wide and tried to bring them into focus. "Ye're no use t' th' crew if yer injured, Jack. Ye couldn't swing a 'ammer if Gibbs 'eld yer 'and." He frowned stubbornly, "Jus' make sure our guest," she said with distaste, "doesn't get 'imself int' any trouble." She tilted her head back to where James was sitting with Gibbs. Some of the crew was standing around talking to the bloke; James was trying to stand.

Jack turned back to Ana, and his expression was undoubtedly as close to a pout as the captain would ever admit to coming. "But 'e's boring!"

Ana held out her hand and helped Jack up, then sent him scampering off to help their newest set of hands.

* * *

James started to stand on unsteady feet, and a man reached out his hand for him to take, but as soon as he did, they pulled him up forcefully enough for him to feel a dreadful pain in his side. He stumbled and faced their mocking laughter as the other man let go of his hand.

"So 're ye feelin' a little better today, Jim?"

James blinked at him and nodded solemnly, "A little, yes."

"Not gettin' off yer arse t' give us a 'and any time soon, though are ye?"

James frowned, "I'm afraid not. They won't let me anywhere—"

"Fine pirate ye are!" They laughed, and James tried to stave off the colour that filled his cheeks. "Pirates don't take orders from no one."

"Except me, master Crimp!" The man spun to face the captain who was what James could only describe as sauntering his way over to them. "As we all remember what happened t' th' las' crew as didn't like the flavour of me orders, eh?"

No one wanted to anger Jack, it seemed, and their mouths shut so quickly that James swore he could hear the clap and snap of their teeth, or lack there of, clicking together.

"Can't 'ear ye, master Crimp!"

"Aye sir!"

Jack nodded, "Now what were we 'avin' a lovely conversation 'bout o'er here?" No one answered. Jack's mock grin and companionable arm gestures stopped and his hands dropped to his side, eyes darkened. "'At's what I thought. Back t' work, gentlemen." His hands clasped behind his back, Jack looked most formidable watching them stalk away.

Most of the men started their way through the sand back to the Pearl, but Crimp leaned over and whispered in James' ear, and the man wanted to pull back in revulsion of the feeling of his breath on James' cheek, but he withstood the invasion of space. "You're lucky," he breathed, "that yer the cap'n's doxie." The man barked at him, and snapped at his face, though James did not flinch. When the man turned his back and started to walk away, James realized his hands were clenched in fists and that his mouth was drawn to a hard line. He did not flinch from his position, glaring at the man's back as he stalked away, laughing and glancing back only once. He did not flinch until Jack leaned into his personal space, and James had to take a step back to avoid the incursion.

"Don't take 'em seriously, love. They're jus' jealous."

"Jealous of what?" James turned his searching eyes back to Jack's, and Jack paused before speaking. James didn't know what to think about Crimp's statement. He wanted Jack to answer his question, but the captain just plastered a false smile to his animated face.

"Nothin', love. Jealous of nothin'."

Gibbs had gone with the other men, and they were left alone. Jack pulled an apple out of seemingly nowhere and handed it to James, who took it gratefully; he hadn't eaten all day.

"Where were we headed?" James asked suddenly, breaking Jack from what seemed to be a reverie.

Jack turned and looked at him, frowning, not understanding the question until he realized it had no relation to the thoughts that were just in his mind. James smiled, thinking it was very endearing, how mad the man seemed, he was never quite together, but Jack found his bearings in a moment and said, "Nowhere." He grinned and threw his arms open wide, gesturing at the sun and the sky and the horizon and the beach and everything. "Everywhere!" He laughed and clapped James on the back. "Wherever the wind takes us."

James leaned into the pirate a little bit, relaxing under that comradely arm. He chewed thoughtfully, staring out at the ocean and the sky, devoid of clouds. It was hard to believe that there had been a terrible storm just the other day.

Jack was lost in thought too, but not the same. The man was close, and he was warm; Jack breathed him in, and through the scent of the salt and the sand and the beach, he smelled a man. He smelled a man who was very close to him, leaning against him, a man who trusted him with more than just his life, this man trusted him with his identity.

Jack didn't know how to place such trust on a scale. He didn't know how to weigh whether it was a wondrous thing to be deserving of such trust, thus making him an abhorred person, the likes of which should be not only shot on sight, but tormented eternally in hell or whatever damnable place there be in the afterlife. He wondered if James knew, or if he was placed in such circumstances as would not let him decide to go the other way and reject the trust. He wondered what the commodore would do.

That was a paradox though, wasn't it? If the commodore were here, he would have a different opinion than James about whether he should trust the pirate. Of course, the commodore's judgement would be biased based on the fact that he knew who he was, he knew who Jack was, and thus there would be no decision to make. There could not even be a decision of comparable weight that Jack could trade off with in his mind. No decision was as weighty as the one James had made to trust him with his identity; it was not so trusting as giving someone the hold of your soul, and it was more than placing your life in someone's hands. No, Jack would never know what the commodore would do, because if it was the commodore, there would be no decision.

In the midst of these thoughts, James had been saying Jack's name, but the pirate did not notice as he was glancing into space, backward into his mind, as he thought about it. Whenever he glanced off into space for lengthy periods of time, he considered it consulting his conscience and his soul and whatever depth and wisdom there happened to be inside his piratey figure. He was too involved in himself and the image before him, which burned into his retinas even as he ceased to see the picture at all, to comprehend that someone was speaking to him.

Speaking of which, James called his name for the third time, and Jack jumped a little and turned to address the man, arm still over broad shoulders, "Aye, what?"

"I said, if I am your navigator, what good do I do if we never plot a course?"

Jack was taken aback at that for a moment and pursed his lips together looking rather like a duck. He then opened his mouth and said, "Well," leaning back and gesturing with one arm as though he were making a vague motion toward the solution in the air, but his mouth then hung open and he was not looking at James anymore. He stood that way for a few moments, and just as James was about to repeat the question, Jack moved again and spoke. "Well it's not like we never 'ave a course. Yea, sometimes we go somewhere as needs... plotting. But as I said before, mate, that's not yer only job aboard." He pulled his hand from around James' shoulders and placed his index fingertips and thumbtips together, hands flat as though against something or on a wall, then he moved them in an outward arcing motion, painting a picture for his own eyes, if not for James' also. "Yer the key battle strategy technician, may I remind ye," he said as though it would bring delight and awe to those who heard it.

James found it remarkable how easily he was able to get past the picture painted and the gestures magnified that made up the dance that was Captain Jack Sparrow. To one of simpler mind, it would seem he was a great actor, a student of theatre or a storyteller, and they would be captivated by the ways he moved and spoke. James, however, did not fall so easily under the sway. In fact, the more accustomed to the pirate he became, and the less easily he impressed James, the more James liked Jack. It made him see beneath it all, and he realized, with a start, that Jack was nothing more than a man.

"Are ye all right, James?"

James blinked and came back to reality to realize he was looking strangely at Jack, with what might have been a dopey expression on his face. "Yes, I am fine," he said at length.

"Let's sit down, eh?" He helped James down, trying not to pull on his arm or anything too much, or let him fall to the sand too fast as to pull apart the beginnings of a scab over the wound in his side. "Eat yer apple; we don' want ye gettin' too weak t' move or what have you." James laughed and took another bite with a grin.

Yes, there was definitely something about Jack Sparrow that made it hard not to like him, but there was something about him that made one wonder who he really was.

Chapter Three: Something About You

James opened his eyes in the middle of the night. It was dark and quiet, though not at all eerie; he rather liked the quiet and calm of the night. He turned his head to find the pirate captain only a few inches away, snoring peacefully; well James would not really call that a snore, maybe a purr, or even heavy breathing, though that last one was the most unlikely. He smiled at the peaceful face and rolled onto his side for a better look that would not leave his neck pained.

The moustache and beard were a little unkempt, but the elflocks gave Jack a surprising look of neatness in comparison to the scraggly beards and wayward hair some of his crew had. His eyes never seemed to lose that lining of black, even when Jack had been rubbing at his face or was swimming in the water. James wondered what it was, if it was the grease so many women used, and he wondered why Jack wore it.

His eyes moved to the long hair carelessly thrown over Jack's shoulder as he slept. He wanted to reach out and tug on a strand. They looked dirty and gross, not at all nice, but James wondered if they were at all. Jack did not seem to smell bad, or any worse than a lot of the men did at any given point in time. Sometimes James thought he smelled worse than the pirate captain, though it was hard to judge oneself when you're all you can smell all day, anyway.

'It must be the beads,' James thought, 'that make it look so neat. The beads keep it tamed.' He was sure he was right. He examined the hair some more and found himself wondering what some of those items were.

Jack opened his eyes to see James' eyes open and looking right at him. The man did not seem to notice right away that he had been caught. Jack tried not to smile or make a move and see how long it took for James to realize that Jack was dreadfully amused at all of this.

It took a moment or two, but Norrington's eyes met his, and his mouth opened in a small 'o' shape and his face darkened, though he was grateful it was nearly invisible in the dark. Jack smiled his knowing, cocky smile and gave James an obvious once over himself.

"James, me lad, what 're ye doin' awake? 'Sides from molestin' yer cap'n wit' yer eyes."

James turned darker, and Jack was sure he bore witness to the event, but he may have imagined it, as sometimes his mind seemed to embellish the things he had seen. "I couldn't sleep."

"Ah, so ye figured that I'd not mind if ye memorized me person while I was a goner, eh?"

James laughed, "Sorry."

Jack sat up and cracked his neck, bending it either way and then using his hands to turn it until it cracked again. He smiled, "I can't sleep either, lets find us some rum."

Jack helped James stand and led him to the rum rations. He pulled out a bottle, careful not to make too much noise and awaken the people asleep on the beech, then handed the bottle to James and pulled out two more. He tiptoed his way to the cover of the trees with James following him, walking as normally as he usually did, not afraid that a misstep would awaken the rest of the men, and woman.

Jack pulled aside some branches and led James into the forest. He found a nice spot, still sandy, but starting to become home to more vegetation, and he sat down, pulling James with him. Jack pulled the cork out of the two bottles he had and handed one to James who took it without question.

Jack took a swig, and then another, and finally a third before James had sipped his once and grimaced as it burned on the way down. James leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the sky, while Jack helped himself to much more rum than a single person should be able to drink in such a short time. Jack didn't even seem affected.

"So wha' was so interestin' 'bout ol' Jack tha' ye'd rather look at me than sleep, because sleep is a magnificent thing, ye know, ye can dream and... and dream. What was I sayin'?"

James laughed and took another sip. Jack leaned over and touched the bottom of the bottle to tilt it up again before James put it down, and the liquid kept pouring out, almost faster than James could struggle to keep up with it. Jack laughed when some spilled out the side of his mouth and let him put the bottle down.

"'At's better than most stiff upper lip types are able t' do. I commend ye, Jamie, love."

James coughed and then laughed. "Thank you, I suppose."

"So then, what was so interesting?"

James shrugged. "Your hair actually."

"Me 'air?"

"Aye."

Jack raised an eyebrow, but more in response to the commodore saying 'aye' than to asking what he meant, though that was not how James took it. "I was sort of wondering what most of those trinkets were."

"Ah! Most of 'em 'ave stories, though some are things tha' jus' wouldn't come out once they got tangled in," he fingered the lady's earring he had there and tugged it a little. James laughed and Jack smiled.

"Tell me some of the stories, Jack."

Jack pursed his lips like a duck, as he had before and James found it funny enough this time around that he smiled harder. "Well," he pulled on a particular bead which was blue with little notches dug into it, "this I go' from a vaudun priestess, ye see. She tol' me that I was on me way for an early death, would die 'ere I was twenty two, course I was twenty four at the time, she may have been a little wacky, but aye, she told me future, predicted the Pearl."

"Predicted the Pearl?"

"Oh, aye. Back before I found 'er, this lady tol' me she saw a fickle bitch in me future, but she was not 'uman. She said I'd lose 'er to a dead man. Course, I didn't know what she meant at the time."

"What did she mean?"

Jack looked at James for a long time before he said, in a voice that James could not recognise as sad or glad or anything, "Ye really don' remember, do ye?"

"I'm afraid I don't." James frowned and looked away, taking another drink.

Jack's eyes softened, and he felt bad suddenly, not the kind of bad one feels when he's had too much ale, nor the bad one feels when kicked in the shins after a prostitute that claimed she wasn't a prostitute declined his business very impolitely. Jack felt bad as in the kind of bad someone feels when he has done something wrong to another person, and he knows it is wrong, but he doesn't do anything to change it.

"James, I—"

"Don't, Jack." He turned his face back to the pirate, and Jack's eyes showed even more concern when he saw how distraught James was. It was rare that he spent this much time with any one person new to his life. Jack wondered if he was spending too much time with him, getting too attached. That would certainly explain why Jack felt so bad for this elaborate lie all of a sudden. "I don't know who I am or where I come from, I don't know where I belong. I don't know who you are, though you give me the feeling that we were once very close."

"Actually, James, I—" He began, intent to contradict the man, or even tell him the truth, but he was interrupted by the distraught former commodore.

"I wish I could remember anything. I can't remember ever sailing on the Pearl, though I must have, I can't remember growing up or living life. I can't remember my first love, my first kiss, though I am sure I must have had them."

"James, really, you—"

James interrupted further, giving his captain no time to contradict him. "No Jack, this is hard, this is impossible even. I don't know anything about myself, or anyone around me for that matter, and as much as it hurts me, I know it hurts others too. Others like you."

"Like me?" Jack forgot his previous intentions in his clear confusion. Just what was in this young man's head?

"Yes! Yes of course! You're my captain! You should be able to depend on me! You should be able to trust that I can remember what I am doing or where we are going or anything! You should not have to take care of me and watch over me, like I am a child, unable to man the ship!"

'Ah,' Jack thought, 'almost thought 'e fancied me for a second there.'

James sighed, "I don't know why you don't just toss me out. Most people would, you know. Pirates—"

"Pirates are no' all th' same, mate. Most people don't realize tha' no' e'ery pirate kills and rapes and harms everyone and everything in 'is path. It's no' all black and white. There are shades o' grey!"

James lifted an eyebrow. "Shades of grey?"

Jack nodded and gestured with his arms. "Yes, man, yes, shades! Let me put this in terms ye may understand. Let us say, for example, you are... the commodore of the British Royal Navy." He nodded and watched James' face carefully. James gestured for Jack to continue as though the pirate was taking too long with his pause of consideration. "Okay, so you follow th' strict rules an' regulations of th' law, eh? Now, say one day yer crew and yer pretty ship is attacked by pirates and they're o'er taking ye, but another pirate 'appens along." James nodded. "That other pirate saves yer arse and helps ye take back yer ship, savvy?"

Jack paused for a moment letting James soak in the familiar information. His face had not changed in the least. He did not remember. His eyes were blank, and green. But that emerald stare was not focused on Jack, and instead the image Jack drew behind them with his scenario. Jack made a hand gesture and continued.

"Now, a pirate is a pirate, right? But th' second one an' 'is crew saved ye from th' first ones, 'elped ye take back yer ship. Now said helper pirate gets stuck on yer ship an' 'is mates leave wit'out 'im an' ye take 'im back t' yer fort or what have you. Because o' yer duty, yer expected t' 'ang 'im. Wha' do ye do?"

James shifted uncomfortably, and he appeared to be deep in thought. He shifted again as Jack watched, and the pirate never took his eyes away from those of the former commodore of the British Royal Navy. At length, James responded.

"It would not be right to hang him. He helped save you and your men."

"Aye, but 'e's a pirate. One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness, aye?"

James shrugged uncomfortably. "Your career would also be at stake. But you owe this man, at least in part."

"Enough to set him free?" James shrugged. "Ah then, well what say this man was actually the captain of yonder pirate vessel and 'e was th' one as gave th' order for 'is crew t' save yers from th' pirate threat? Mayhap he told his crew tha' if 'e was stuck aboard t' leave without 'im, not only savin' yer men, but 'is own from a similar fate to 'is own."

"Well you could not hang him then, under no circumstances! He saved so many lives with his help! He sacrificed himself at your mercy already! You cannot hang him! No indeed not!"

"What would ye say 'bout a man who 'ad tried t' 'ang 'im?"

"That he was a bloody bastard!" Fire rose in James' eyes and Jack sat back a little. "It is not right. There is no grey area here. Despite career, society, and propriety, you cannot hang a man who sacrificed himself and his own life to save you, who had not asked him to lend a hand in the least! No! The man who took another's life to save his own career despite what he knew to be right, that man deserves to be hanged!"

Jack was silently stunned for a long time at that and he waited while the fire oozed back out of James' eyes, until James was calm again. He nodded finally. It was a good answer. It was the kind of answer he would have given if he were as spicy inside as the commodore. Wait, something was turned around here....

Jack nodded once more, "Well 'ow 'bout this. That man, a commodore or what 'ave ye, intends to 'ave this man hanged, aye? However, something happens, a good man, a friend of th' pirate, saves him, an' th' pirate escapes to his ship, which 'as come back for him. Th' commodore says h' will give the pirate one day's head start when he knows factually tha' 'is pretty naval ship could not catch th' pirate's ship with only ten minutes' 'ead start. Does this second chance and th' change o' 'eart o' the commodore redeem 'im in yer mind?"

James had to think for a long time. He met Jacks eyes and nodded very seriously. "The commodore would have to repent in some other way I would think. Perhaps ignore certain reports crossing his desk of the acts of said pirate to make it up to him, but I think that everyone deserves a second chance."

Jack smiled and nodded. Was that what the commodore had done? He wondered if it was. That would certainly be interesting. But he didn't know if and when he would be able to ask the man. Clearly, James did not recognize any of this story, not anything, from their escapades a year ago. Jack knew he would have recognized a change in James' demeanour, in his responses, in his eyes at the very least, which were so much softer and open without having to hide behind all that brocade and pretend there was not a real man under there. Jack hated how the navy pretended to be so much more ordered and structured than normal human nature demanded of them. Disorder was the nature of the universe. Everything wanted to be less ordered, or so it said in a book Jack was sure he once read.

James looked puzzled suddenly, "Why were we talking about this?"

Jack remembered. "Oh, ye were jus' about t' tell me tha' any other pirate would 'ave disregarded ye after losin' memory an' what not. But yer wrong. There are still a few pirates out there, such as meself and me crew, 'at would not." Jack slung his arm around James' shoulders. "'Round 'ere, e'eryone's family." James smiled and nodded, taking another drink of the rum he had. "'Round 'ere... no one gets left behind."

James smiled and leaned into Jack's arm around his shoulder in a way with which the pirate captain was not entirely sure he agreed. Jack shrugged his free arm and fell back against the ground with James against his shoulder. The man made a sound like 'oof' and some of the rum spilled down his face and pooled in the indentation between neck and collarbone.

He started to sit up to wipe it off but Jack just laughed and pulled him back down onto the sand where James caught Jack's infectious laughter. Jack watched as the small lines on James' face became more defined as he laughed. His laughter subsided to a small smile, and he watched the man giggle and try to drink his rum laying down, no small feat if Jack remembered correctly. He seemed almost childlike in his carefree laughter. Jack wondered if the commodore ever had the opportunity to let go like this. In a way, it made him feel better about himself to offer the man this one chance at freedom and happiness, even if he'd never had and would never again have the opportunity.

James watched Jack as the humour faded from his own face. The pirate did not exactly look serious, but maybe a little sad. He was studying James' face. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, and James knew that the man was thinking about him from before, before any of this happened, before he hit his head and forgot everything. James was starting to think that the only way it would make the pirate captain change moods so suddenly, short of him being mad, was if Crimp had been truthful, despite his clear disdain for James. It made him sad too, but the pirate did not strike him as the kind of man that would easily reveal displeasure or sadness. Perhaps James was closer to Jack than the captain was letting on.

Not that it wouldn't be enjoyable. In fact, James felt quite content to lay in the sand of this desolate beech drinking rum with his captain until the sun came up, or longer. From the look on the man's face, he would not object to the suggestion.

"Jack?" He asked.

Jack blinked and it seemed almost like Jack turned his gaze back to him after a moment, but his eyes had never left James' face. It was only his attention that returned. "Hmmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Jack smiled, "You, of course. 'M lookin' at ye aren't I?"

James nodded and shrugged. "But what, is the question of the day. What are you thinking of, of me?" He guffawed at the lack of sense and took another drink of the rum.

"Ye jus' look a lo' less uptigh' 'n usual. It looks better on ye."

James smiled uncertainly and didn't know how to respond. He did not have to though, because Jack had a tendency to think aloud.

"Usually ye've got a little frown around 'ere," he touched James' face by the corner of his lips, James turned them down a little. "An' 'ere's usually a few more lines up in 'ere." He touched his forehead, and James furrowed his brow. "An' yer eyes usually take a different light to 'em, but 'at's not t' be fixed wit' a little touch 'ere and there." James let the positions Jack had moulded fall from his face and curiosity touched his eyes. Jack looked sad still.

"Is that all that's on your mind?"

Jack tried to make the look melt away with a smile as he shook his head. "Yea, 'at's all."

James paused and puzzled for a moment, trying to be serious. "You look as though you're in pain, that you're hurting... like you lost your best friend. I wonder... I wonder if there is such a thing as a Battle Strategy Technician at all."

Jack had been there to hear Crimp's comment earlier and the meaning of the man's words now was not lost on him. Jack swallowed and stared into James' eyes for a long time before he shook his head and looked away, choosing not to answer. Finally, he stood up and held out his hand to the man. "I'm getting a little tired now, James, love. Perhaps it is time to return to bed, eh?"

James waited down on the ground, not taking Jack's hand until Jack had to look back at him questioningly.

James was silent for a long time before his voice rose to barely above a whisper and he said, "Did I touch a nerve, Jack?" Jack did not understand. "Did you lose your best friend?" Jack's adamant silence caused his spirits to fall. Finally, with a frown, he reached up and took Jack's hand. "Yes, I think you are right, Jack. It is time to be back to bed."

* * *

Jack had known what James was asking, but why? Jack didn't know how to answer. Would it be profitable to him to pretend to be James' "best friend"? It was a reason for hesitation. Did Jack want to go there? James was a fine enough looking man, but did that mean that Jack wanted to bed him? Well perhaps, but that was not what was important here. What was important was profit.

Of course, if James thought that he was dear to the captain, would that mean he would work harder to please him? It was possible. However, there was also the perspective that if James was with the captain, he would think slacking off was permissible for him and him alone. However, Jack did not think that James was like that at all. He thought that James was the kind of man that would do as he was asked simply because it was asked of him. Jack thought that James was the kind of man who never gave anything only half his effort, especially if he was happy doing what he was doing, and James would never have made it all the way to commodore unless he had liked, even a little bit, what he was doing. A man is always more successful doing what he enjoys.

The whole situation gave Jack pause. It was something to think about. He was not sure he had given James any signals to indicate that he was interested in him that way, so what had made James think so, Jack wondered? Well, actually, there may have been a few instances... but Jack was certain that the thought had not been brought upon the commodore by his obscure actions alone. Jack wondered if maybe the man was beginning to like his captain.

Jack had never answered the question. He did not know what to say to him. He was feeling bad enough already about tricking the man into playing for his side in this little game of war, did he want to corrupt him too? Jack did not have a problem with sodomy, he was a pirate, but that was not the only reason. Since he had first reached that stage, the same as every boy as they become a man... well he had never found women particularly interesting. He had never heard of any other men with a similar... condition... until he had taken into piracy. Clearly, he was not a stranger to having men in his bed, but did that mean he wanted to take Norrington away from his safe "women only" lifestyle. If and when James regained his own thoughts, would he hate Jack more for having taken that safety from him? Would Jack do it if he knew James would hate him later? Did that matter?

Jack knew, somehow in his gut, that the profit would be greater. Jack wondered what had given Norrington this strange idea that Jack was interested in him, or that Jack and he had been together before; that instance on the beach when he first awakened, to be sure, but father than that, he didn't know. Obviously, if it was not Jack's doing, and if it was not the doing of the crew, who had done their best to stay away from the commodore, then there was only one other person who could have influenced James' misconception, and that person was James.

Jack sighed and rolled over onto his back to stare at the sky. He had lied. He was not tired in the least.

"You lied." A voice said. He turned his head abruptly. "You said you were tired." James was smiling. Jack was silent. "What's on your mind?"

Jack shrugged, only the fact that it seemed James had just read his mind. Well not only that.... "You... me... recent events." He gave a dry, humourless chuckle. "Things."

"Like what?"

Jack glared, thinking, 'Like the fact that ye want me an' tha' I'm considerin' 'armin' ye so I may benefit, ye poncy bastard. Why is it I feel bad 'bout takin' advantage of ye?' Actually, he said, "I though' we came back 'ere t' sleep, not t' wake everyone else up with th' chatter, aye?"

"If you want, we can go back to the trees where we will not bother anyone."

Jack gave him a look that James could not quite decipher, but it conveyed that he was less than impressed. "Let's jus' go t' sleep, aye?"

He did not wait for an answer but turned away from the man and closed his eyes intending to sleep. A moment followed that, and then another, but in the third minute, there was a sound of shuffling, then Jack felt something slide across his stomach, and he felt breath against his neck. Jack made his decision. He moved his hand from where it rested on the sand and clasped the other hand in his. He squeezed gently, and James squeezed back, lightly. Jack let out a long breath of air and intertwined his fingers in those other, whiter ones.

Chapter Four: Stay with me, Safe and Ignorant

The next day Jack was awake before James, and he immediately disentangled his arm from the man and stood up, carefully stepping around him to get to Anamaria.

"Cap'n good t' see ye this morn."

He frowned at her. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged and smiled happily, "Nothin's wrong, cap'n."

"Then what are ye so damn cheerful for?"

She grinned, couldn't help it, and nodded her head toward the sleeping man. "Ye jus' look so cute together. Pirate an' pirate hunter, all cuddled up safe an' sound together." A chuckle burst out of her, "'Specially since Duncan claims 'e saw ye both go int' th' trees and 'ave a little fun o' yer own."

Jack sighed exasperatedly. "We couldn't sleep, went where people wouldn' wake up 'cause we were talking."

She placed her hand on her hip and frowned, "And what d' ye 'ave t' talk t' a pirate 'unter about?"

He sighed. "Fine, ye win, all right?"

"I win?"

"Ye win."

"Well what is it 'at I win?"

"Ye're right, is all I meant, ye don' win nothin'."

"Then wha' was I right about?"

Jack wanted to throw back his head and howl for the nerve of this woman and all her insufferable questions, but it would wake James. "Woman, ye're jus' gettin' on me nerves now."

She shrugged and gave her best innocent look. "I'm afraid, cap'n, tha' I don' know what I did."

Jack sighed and counted to ten, then again in French, then again in Spanish, then he sighed and looked up at her. "It'll be of greater profit t' us, is all."

"Oh?" She did not look convinced.

"Aye."

".... How?"

He sighed, "Well... 'e seemed interested, aye?" She did not nod or make any indication that she understood or agreed. "Okay, so 'e seemed interested, so what'd make 'im 'appy would be t' be wit' th' captain, and when ye've a 'appy pirate hunter, ye 'ave a non-murderous pirate hunter. He'll be more interested in doin' 'is job now, 'n 'e would 'ave been if 'e was unhappy."

"What if all 'e wants t' do is swive?"

"Well... punishment of a bad job is... less... swiving." He nodded assuredly.

"Jack...."

"Look woman, I feel bad enough as 'tis 'bout lettin' 'im think 'e was with us all along, don' make me feel bad 'bout decidin' t' corrupt 'im. 'E's th' one as asked for it."

"He did?" She looked as though she did not believe him.

"Course 'e did! Ye think I jus' invite people t' cuddle up t' me at any ol' time? In case it was uncertain before, I'm not much of a cuddling person, savvy?"

She nodded but was looking increasingly more amused.

"Stop that!"

She tried to look innocent. "Wha'?"

"Lookin' like me mum disprovin' o' th' partner I take t' me bed."

"Your mother disproved of yer bed mates often?"

He gave an exasperated sigh and threw his arms up, "It 'appens when ye're more inclined t' take th' gentlemen in than th' ladies." Ana lifted her eyebrows, but Jack was not impressed. "Oh don' bother actin' like ye didn' realize."

She laughed and slapped him on the back. "Well all's well, Cap'n. Ye've been needin' a good ol' fashion cabin whore for more 'n a while." Jack's mouth fell open. "Oh, don' look surprised, ye're by far th' most desp'rate pirate 'ere an' ye know it."

Jack straightened up and adjusted his expression to be disproving. "I would advise ye, Anamaria, not t' be conversin' often 'bout me personal life, aye?"

She laughed at him and saluted, mockingly like a marine but he growled at her and just told her to get back to work. She laughed at him and walked her own pace back to the boat.

* * *

James awakened alone in the sand. He was lying on his back, face up into the bright sun, and he knew without touching his face that it was hot and probably burning in the Caribbean sun.

He ignored the warning in him that said to get to the shade as quickly as possible, and instead turned his head to watch the progress of the crew. It looked to him that the ship's imminent repairs were mostly completed. He thought that she was sea worthy for a while. At least the Pearl would make it until they reached port somewhere and could get it looked after professionally. Of course, it was only expected that with a whole crew working simultaneously on the project that it would be completed in a mere few days' time.

Jack was over with the men, shouting orders and pointing at people, though it did not seem anyone needed much direction. James bet that Anamaria had forbidden Jack to work on the ship himself, and he was trying to keep involved in some way. James smiled. The captain was like that. It had not taken long to figure out as much. The ocean was his lover, and the ship was his mistress. He would die for the ship, James was certain.

James sat up and watched Jack and the men work, touching his side tentatively and standing cautiously. It still hurt quite a bit. He knew he couldn't work on the ship, but he could always offer to do something else. He didn't know what that something else might be, but he could offer at least. James found that there was one thing he hated most about this whole ordeal, and that was that he could not pull his own weight

"Ye scurvy bastards, watch what ye're doin'!" The last of the repairs were being finished up now, and Jack was yelling at them to watch the mast and the mainsail. The last thing they wanted was to have a boat fixed up nice and pretty and be without a sail to get away from the blasted island.

Jack was screaming at someone else by the time James was standing behind him. He tapped the man on the shoulder and Jack jumped into the air. "Good God, man! Ye scared th' life out o' me!"

James laughed and shrugged, "Thought a pirate captain such as yourself would have a better sense of intuition; I might have been an enemy or something."

Jack scowled at the commodore, and James just smiled back, seeing no malice in the expression. "'At's enough from ye. What're ye doin' up out o'... bed?"

James smiled in humour; bed indeed. "I thought I could help with something."

Jack looked sceptical, and leaned back to examine James. Then, to James' surprise, he reached out with his fingers and poked James in the side. James doubled over in pain when Jack's hand pressed against his wound. Jack grabbed his shoulders to help him not to fall.

"Whoa there, mate. Ye're in no condition t' be 'elpin' out."

James' legs buckled, and Jack lowered him to the sand, oblivious to the snickering of the crew behind his back. James gripped his stomach and took shallow breaths until the pain subsided. He removed his hand and there was fresh blood.

"Damn it. I didn't mean I'd do anything difficult, maybe walk the island, try to figure out where the hell we are." He growled, and Jack grimaced.

"Sorry, I didn't realize... sorry. Jus'... stay right there." Jack hurried away, and James sighed, trying to put pressure on the wound but knew it was no good without something to put on it. He lifted his shirt and made a face at the wound. It was partly healed, but then Jack had to be a jerk. James knew that it was not a good idea to do anything strenuous or that would require a lot of effort. He also knew it was not Jack's fault that he had not known that he wasn't asking to do anything difficult.

James sighed, and Jack was rushing across the sand with cloths for makeshift bandages in his hands. He almost laughed to himself at the hopeless captain but he kept himself quiet with only a wry grin.

The grin faded from his face as Jack poked and prodded at his stomach, it did hurt, though not as much as it might have yesterday or the day before. It hurt considerably more than it had ten minutes ago, that much was certain. James tried to distract himself from the captain's careful inspection and repair by studying his face as he worked intently.

When he focused, as he was no doubt currently doing, his brow drew together and his lips pursed as he undeniably chewed on the inside of his lips. James could somewhat see past the joking and the dancing and the mask the man put on for the crewmembers. Jack changed from the man who acted nonchalant about everything and pretended to be a blithering idiot into someone who was hiding just beneath the surface.

Jack was truly cleverer than anyone would dare think. James knew this only because he was trying to look past it. Most of Jack's own men didn't want to try to see past the captain's charade, they didn't want to take the time; otherwise, they were truly as stupid as they acted. However, the singular way a man could tell Jack had wit and cunning beneath his glamour was the sheer fact that he was trying to hide it.

"There, all fixed up again."

James started at the words. "Oh, thank you." He hadn't realized that time had passed so quickly.

"Quite welcome, mate." He smiled. "What say we get ourselves something t' eat, aye?" He held out a hand for James to take.

James smiled as he grasped the pirate's fingers with his own, "Yes, lets."

* * *

Jack was not sure he liked Norrington looking at him like he had just been doing. The man looked like he knew something no one else did. He looked like he was coming up with theories and hypotheses, like Jack was being studied, a rat in a cage, as it were. James did it often enough that Jack ought to have gotten used to it by now, but he hadn't.

It felt strangely intrusive, like James was peeking at him from behind a curtain and Jack had been caught in only his skivvies. He tried to shrug it off, but he was not sure what it meant, and when Jack Sparrow was uncertain about something, it meant it needed to be examined itself.

"Why d' ye look at me like tha'?"

James furrowed his brow as he chewed on some hard tack. "Like what?"

"Like ye're tryin' t' peel me skin back an' 'ave a gander beneath."

James laughed, "I am sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm sure ye do." James laughed again and just shrugged. Jack sighed. "Ye're impossible."

"I am? You're the one acting like a simpleton at any given moment."

Jack puffed out his chest and he drew his head back in offence. "What?"

James shook his head with a grin, "I just mean, Jack, that you put on an awful lot of a show to people who are supposed to be your friends." Jack gave him a look to imply that he didn't have the slightest idea what he as on about. "You act like a buffoon. You dance around and wave your arms and say strange things all the time. You act like... like you're drunk all the time. Clearly, you're not, I am sure I would have noticed you imbibing constantly, so why do you act so? These people are your friends; what is the point in making them think you're a fool?"

"You don't understand Jamie, love, they are friends with the swaggering, strange, muttering, stumbling buffoon that is Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Well surely they would treat you the same whether you acted like you couldn't stand half the time or if you were yourself."

"Maybe that's the way it works in the navy, mate, but not 'ere." James was confused and Jack shook his head. "If I change they will think something is wrong. Now don't get me wrong, I trust a lot of these men, and women, wit' me life, but," here Jack laughed, "they're not above mutiny. They see one weakness, one sign that said I was not t' be trusted meself, and they'd be off with me ship."

"But why would they do that?"

Jack shrugged and bit into his own hardtack. "I owe 'em one."

* * *

Later that day the conversation continued, James unwilling to let it go, and Jack running from confrontation. Anamaria smiled and laughed at the sight. She'd seen the man face undead pirates, the noose multiple times, and even once a crime lord in Spain, but never had he turned tail and ran.

"Jack will you just listen, just for a moment?"

"No, James, you go sit, and I will handle this, ye've no business being up and about in yer condition."

"If you would come sit down with me then I would have no reason to be running around, though, would I?"

Jack turned his head over his shoulder to shout at the man, but he stumbled. James caught up with him and Ana noticed his look of irritation quickly turned to one of concern when he put his hand on Jack's shoulder and said something quietly. Jack raised his arm but he did not say anything. Instead, it seemed his legs gave out from beneath him and he fell to the ground, but not before Anamaria started running to meet him.

* * *

Jack opened his eyes to darkness. Night had fallen, but he could still make out the shadow of a figure sitting close to him. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness and started to sit up, bringing the man's attention to him.

"Jack, you're awake!" He said in an excited whisper.

"Aye." Jack coughed and James handed him a flask of something. Ugh! Water! He spit it out at first and then took a few tentative sips.

"How do you feel, are you all right? I should get Anamaria, just wait." Jack put his hand on the man's leg to stop him from going anywhere, and James turned his face back to the captain.

"I am fine, jus' a little... groggy I s'ppose. Wha' 'appened?"

James helped Jack sit up the rest of the way when he did not seem like he was going to stop his attempt. "You just passed out."

"Ah, that's nothin', jus' a little left over dizziness from 'ittin' me 'ead on th' ship."

"During the storm?"

Jack tried nodding but realized that it hurt his head to do so. "Aye."

James leaned over and made a show of checking over the outer part of Jack's head, but each time he touched a place on his head, Jack just frowned and told him it didn't hurt. That was until James touched on one of the more sensitive parts of Jack's skull at the base, and the man was barely able to withhold a yelp that would have surely awakened his pirate neighbours.

"That hurt?" Jack nodded, braving the pain because he didn't trust himself to speak. James was tenderer as he probed around that sensitive area, but Jack winced at his ministrations nonetheless.

"Careful," Jack said breathily.

James smiled at him and moved closer to the pirate for a better angle. Jack flinched again and James withdrew his hand with an apologetic grin. "Nasty bump on the back of your head, Captain Sparrow," he said.

"Aye, gathered that."

"As a professional," at this Jack's eyebrow rose in question, "I suggest that you stay off your feet, preferably laying down, and have someone attend to your... needs... for you." Jack's eyebrow rose higher at the grin the commodore gave him.

"As a professional, eh?" James nodded. Jack laughed coyly, then reached out tentatively to pull James close to him. Jack hesitated a moment as though uncertain whether this was right, but James made up his mind for him and pressed his lips to Jack's.

Jack was prepared for an awkward first kiss, something tentative and hesitating, but clearly, James had other plans. While Jack was still shocked by the immediate plunge of the naval man's tongue between his lips, James took the opportunity to guide the pirate captain into a laying position on the sand. He lay on top of Jack lightly, holding his own body weight up with his arms and explored the pirate's mouth with his tongue.

Jack was trapped beneath James and though the sensation of the man's tongue in his mouth engaged in a battle with his own, and the feeling of the man's body on top of his own were both delightful, Jack was not sure if this was happening quite the way he expected.

After a moment, Jack managed to pull away and James leaned back.

"James... I—"

"Jack, lets just... have everything go back to the way... however it was before."

"How it was before?"

"Yes, with you and I. I know that... everything has changed with... whatever happened... but I think that the best thing would be for me to just return to whatever normalcy I had before."

Jack paused for a moment, pondering James' words, and finally, he nodded his assent. "I think I can do that, James."

Norrington smiled and nodded but let out a yip as Jack curled his leg around James' and, minding his wound, propelled James onto his back. "Weren't you supposed to be the one on his back?" James said with a laugh.

Jack shrugged. "Pirate."

* * *

Jack had been yelling at the men on the beach without getting anywhere near the actual ship, for hours by the time James yawned and stretched to saunter over to where his captain stood.

"Mornin', James." He waved and yelled to Mr. Gibbs who then passed the order on down the line to the fellow doing something that was going to end up breaking his fool neck. He smiled and turned back to the former commodore. "Are ye hungry? Lets get ye somethin' t' eat and back layin' down on the sand afore ye 'urt yerself more."

James rolled his eyes but followed Jack, figuring he would simply convince him to remain with James and do the men a world of good, and probably Jack too, who had likely not fully recovered from his thump on the head. He grabbed an apple and some hard tack before meandering over to the trees and into the shade. Jack led him into the trees and flopped down on the ground after a minute or two of searching for what James assumed was the perfect spot.

Jack upended the rum into his mouth as he flopped down and leaned back against a tree, then offered it to James who declined, biting the apple.

"This is th' life, eh, Jamie?" James raised his eyebrows. "Plenty o' rum, plenty o' shade, and some o' th' best comp'ny a pirate could ask for." He winked at his younger friend and James smiled. "What more could ye ask for, eh?"

James shrugged, "What have you got?"

Jack laughed, "Jus' meself and me Pearl, mate. And you, if ye'd like." He winked.

James tossed away the core of his apple and lay down propped by one arm. "Jack," he said, "tell me a story."

Jack furrowed his brow in thought, "Well once there was this pirate."

"A pirate?" James moved closer to Jack.

"Aye, a pirate captain, matter of fact. He found out 'bout an interestin' bit o' swag sittin' on some deserted island what no one could ever find. But th' pirate, savvy as 'e was, managed t' find a compass."

"A compass?" He fingered the wooden box at Jack's hip, then undid the tie that let it hang there, removing it and setting it aside.

"Aye," he watched where his mate put it. "Didn't point north, ye see? It lead t' somewhere. So th' pirate gathered 'imself a crew, bunch o' scallywags 'e didn't know, an' off they went t' find th' secret treasure."

"Sound exciting." Jack's eyes followed James as he sat in front of Jack, fiddling with the knot holding scarf wrapped around his waist in place.

"Well it would 'ave been, 'cept that th' first mate, 'e was not as 'e seemed. Th' first mate says t' th' pirate captain, 'e says, 'E'erything's equal, mate, 'at should mean th' location o' th' treasure, too.'" James started to untie that same scarf, manipulating Jack to remove it from behind him and set it to the side.

"I see where this is going."

"Do ya, mate? Well anyhow, tha' night th' captain was roused in a less than pleasant way, 'ands gropin' at 'im, chains, gags, th' works."

James started to undo Jack's belt, keeping his eyes on the captain's. "Sounds erotic."

Jack swallowed. "Not as much as ye might think." James had removed the belt and worked on the fastenings of Jack's pants. "It was rather more... painful and... rough and... uncomfortable."

James' eyes glinted a little, "Still sounds erotic."

Jack exhaled loudly as James' hand started toying with the seam of his pants, brushing Jack's bollocks through the thin material. "Well... they, they threw the captain off th' ship leavin' 'im wit' a blade and a pistol wit' one sh-sho-ot."

James' hands passed the boundary of his pants and grasped Jack's half hard member in his long fingers. Jack's legs spread of their own accord to give that hand more room. His length filled to its capacity in no time and Jack's eyes drifted shut. James' thumb brushed against the head of Jack's cock, sliding in the droplets of precum that seeped out of the slit at the end. Jack exhaled a long breath he'd not realized he'd been holding.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"Continue the story."

"Story?" James' hands stopped their lascivious exploration and Jack's eyes flew open to stare into the threatening depths of James' green ones. "Ah, yes, so... th' pirate captain, not so captainy anymore, was left on a godforsaken island and left t' die." James' hand slid to the base of Jack's cock and stopped, just as Jack stopped speaking. "And... uh... the squirrel, he fell down... and dropped 'is... notebook." James lifted one eyebrow and smiled, but stroked his captain. "Ah... an' th'... th' coconuts rolled down th' hill."

James slid down Jack's body, his face hovering over his crotch enough so that Jack could feel his hot breath on his bollocks. He groaned and slid lower on the tree, trying to bring his balls closer to that heat. James smiled and tried to shimmy Jack's pants lower on his person to give himself access using only the one had that was not busy.

"They hit... oh God... they hit the squirrel and... ugh... he had kittens." James' lips placed a chaste kiss to the end of Jack's cock and Jack's breath left him in a whoosh. He clutched at the sparse grass at the base of the tree. James slid his tongue down the underside of the hard prick, stroking his hand down the now-slick flesh. He laved Jack's sack with his tongue and tentatively sucked a ball into his mouth.

"Jamie... don't stop." James' hand started to slow down and he was frightfully close to letting that ball slip from his mouth. Jack's eyes flew open. "So, so th' squirrel chased th' kittens... they barked an' barked... an' jumped into th' –oh– ocean."

Jack was getting close, losing his train of thought, and soon the words that left his lips were no longer in the format of a story, but formed only pictures of images in his head. Squirrel, coconut, kittens... James pulled his lips away from Jack' privates. "Jack." The captain groaned, opening his eyes and licking his lips twitchingly. "Shut up."

Jack grinned and leaned forward to catch James' lips with his own. James let go of Jack's cock, needing that hand to catch his fall as he landed on his back. Jack kicked his boots and pants off while one hand fell to undo the laces on his lover's own breeches.

James felt lips on his own. They were not soft and yielding like a lass'. They were hard and demanding, forcing him to open up. He felt a tongue push past his lips, past his teeth and it demanded attention from his own. It tasted of rum and apples, unsurprisingly, and it was hot. James groaned and battled the muscle with his own. Then, unexpectedly, Jack sucked James' tongue into his mouth. James had not known that his tongue was directly connected to his cock. If he had not been fully erect before, he was now. He pushed his hips up into Jack, brushing the pirate's bare cock with his trouser-clad one. Jack's mouth fell open at the contact and James was almost disappointed, until he realized that Jack was now struggling to remove his pants with greater fervour.

Clothing shed, Jack put all his body weight back onto James, trapping the man beneath him, and kissed him soundly. He ground his body down onto James' crushing their erections between them, and they both escaped the kiss to maintain regular breathing.

Jack was the first to recover. He moved back to latch his lips to James' neck. He pulled some of the loose skin into his mouth with the suction, and when he came away, a mark remained and James was breathless still. He moved down to the green-eyed man's nipples. He caressed one with his tongue, no force, no roughness, almost teasingly so. He traced the circle around it and listened with interest as James' breath grew heavier as the man became more impatient. Before he cured his impatience, he repeated the action to the man's other nipple.

The leap of James' cock managing to strike him in the thigh brought Jack's short attention span down lower. He grinned at James' red face and fists clenching and relaxing, for some sort of way to ground the man, he assumed, then he traced a small path with his tongue to James' naval, and finally his crotch.

He'd never seen such a lovely prick before, and that was saying a lot. It was such a deep colour of red he might describe it as purple, longer than his own and as wide. Jack licked his lips before allowing his tongue to flick out and determine if it tasted as good as it looked.

He dragged his tongue up the length from the base to circle the tip, and then down the underside. James thrashed about a little, trying to keep himself from bucking into Jack's mouth. Jack placed his hands on the taller man's hips to help him out.

It had been a while since Jack had done this, but he remembered well enough, it was not exactly something a man forgot. He curled his lips around his teeth and slid them around the enlarged head of James' erection. He glanced up at James whose eyes were open now and watching him. James thought to himself as Jack pulled those lips down the length of his prick that it was quite possibly the most erotic thing he had ever seen. To anyone passing by, it probably looked a very explicit staring contest. Gibbs thought he should turn and go back the way he came before one of them lost.

James, however, was at the disadvantage because he would be lost if Jack so much as moved his tongue, or swallowed, or hummed like he was doing just now. "Oh Heaven help me!" Jack would have smiled, but for the obstruction. Instead, as a reminder that heaven had nothing to do with this, Jack allowed one of his hands to stray past James' prick and down to his sack.

It was weighty and slick from sweat; Jack loved it. He wanted to lave his lover's bollocks with his tongue, suck them into his mouth, massage them with his tongue... but all that would have to be left for another day as Jack was too busy with... other things.

He pulled his head back until only the end of James' cock was resting between his lips, then he slid his mouth back up to the base, using his teeth lightly and sparingly, with skill and so as not to hurt the man. James was positively writhing. It became difficult to hold the man down with only one hand. He abandoned the other source of his pleasure to keep his attention only on holding him down and proving to him that Jack's mouth was straight from hell.

"Jack, please! I'm going to— oh fuck!"

Jack let his eyes crinkle as though he were grinning, and redoubled his efforts. He sucked James until the former commodore thought his seams would come undone. He thrashed and pulled at the grass until there was none left around the men, meanwhile Jack did something that made him, oh! James' orgasm came hard, bringing his shoulders off the ground with the force of it. Jack almost choked, at first, but managed to swallow and spill only a little out the side of his mouth.

James collapsed on the ground, breathing hard, head spinning. Jack smiled and pulled off the man, watching as his cock twitched back into flaccidity. He flopped down next to James looking quite content with himself.

James opened his eyes, pupils a little dilated, and surprised Jack by rolling over on top of him without warning. No man should have had that kind of energy after fellatio by the mouth of Captain Jack.

Jack did not complain, though, when James went down on him. So the man thought he had something to prove? Well he would need practice, and Sparrow didn't object to that at all, he thought with a grin.

The grin was wiped from his face as James engulfed his penis with his hot mouth, stroking the underside with his vigorous tongue. He sucked lightly only to pull his lips up around Jack's length suddenly. Jack gasped almost bringing his hips up and bucking into James' mouth. If not for the commodore's excellent reaction time, he would have had Jack permanently buried in his mouth.

James recovered quickly and applied his teeth gently as he pulled back to suck on the head of the man's penis. He gave the tip a swipe of his tongue a couple of times, gathering the droplets of fluid there and then dove back down to take Jack into his mouth fully.

James watched Jack's face to see what he liked. He was glad to see that the pirate captain did not seem to object to anything he was doing. He contracted the muscles in his throat to tighten and then loosen and tighten again around Jack's length. Meanwhile his hand meandered to Jack's backside, past his balls, directly to that puckered opening.

Jack's eyes flew open and his breathing increased when a finger circled that opening a few times. He groaned and dropped his head back down into the sand. James pushed the barrier a little, but did not penetrate the man as Jack's thrashing indicated he wanted.

Jack tried to calm down, he was not going to last very long with James at him like this. He tried to think of other things, anything, to distract him so that his lover wouldn't bring this pleasure to an end so soon.

"The squirrel..." he said, catching James' attention enough that he paused in what he was doing, but not for long. He resumed almost immediately, this time with the semblance of a smile gracing the lips covering Jack's cock, and pushed his finger into Jack gently. "...had kittens!" Jack cried, finally bucking into James' mouth and spilling his seed. James swallowed every drop, not as surprised about the force his orgasm as Jack had been about his own.

James pulled back and wiped his lips delicately. Jack's fingers were twitching a little, and his toes, as the hardness in his prick subsided. James lay down in the sand next to Jack and stared at the leaves of the trees above them. Jack did not hurry to catch his breath, he did, however, turn to regard James with a look of contemplation. James raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Where on earth... did you learn to suck cock like that, mate?"

Chapter Five: Isolate and Save you from Yourself

"Father, there must be something we can do," tears danced in her eyes, and she grabbed a hold of his sleeve, like a little girl again, though in many ways she had not grown up at all. All her life she had been surrounded by so many men to take care of her, to save her when it came the time for her to get into trouble again, and now that one of them was missing, she felt very incomplete.

"You heard the gentleman, Elizabeth. If he fell overboard in the storm, it is very unlikely that he survived the creatures under the water, not to mention drowning, exhaustion, and whatever else happens to a man floating in the water in the middle of heaven knows where. It is unlikely he stayed in one piece long enough to become flotsam on some island somewhere. Even if he washes ashore on an island, there is a good chance we would never find it before he died of his injuries, heat exposure, exhaustion, or starvation."

Elizabeth fought back the tears and forced her voice steady. "Father, if James was to be my husband, you would not be so cold."

Weatherby sighed and shook his head, taking her hands. "He is not to be your husband, but he was a friend of mine, and he was very dear to all of us here. The only reasonable thing for us to do is hope that he passed quickly, not pray that he is alive somewhere, in pain, struggling, and not entertain false hopes that we could save him. Elizabeth, you must let him go."

She tossed her head back and frowned at her father. "Will," she called behind her, and he stepped up to her side, "pack your things and make ready to sail."

"Elizabeth—"

"Father, you may lose hope, and you may think you know what is best, but if he is out there I will find him, and if he is not, then God rest his soul. It will not kill me or Will or anyone else to spend a little time checking to see if he survived, and I will do just that, with or without your blessing."

Defeated, the Governor issued them a ship and assigned them a crew, and they were to go out under the premise of a pre-nuptial vacation, with supervision of course. He did not reveal to the officers Gillette and Groves what was intended, and instead promoted them both to captain, one for each ship, the Dauntless, and the Cerulean Sun, which replaced the Interceptor. They could look after things until James returned, or until they determined he would not.

* * *

It seemed forever since Jack had been standing on her decks, since he had been caressing her worn helm, since he had watched the sails flap in the wind and heard the waves caress her hull. Jack was salivating with anticipation. James carefully stayed back, recognizing that look. That was the look of a man starved. James did not want to be in the way when they had returned the Pearl to her full and upright position and Jack was ready to board, which was sooner by the second.

The sky was clear, no sign of the terrible storm that had devastated them a week or so past, and they were moments from getting off the terrible island and on their way to the nearest port town that would have them.

"Tortuga," Jack had told him. The name sounded familiar and gave James a bad taste in his mouth as much as Jack seemed to relish the flavour of the name on his tongue. It would be a while before they reached there, what with their ship having undergone a shaky patch job and unable to make good time and the port being a little far from where Jack estimated they had been wrecked. Hopefully, it would not be too long. James was looking forward to a bath, hot food, and maybe some new clothes since obviously he had been left with none but those he borrowed from Jack when the storm stole his from him along with his mind.

Someone pushed him, and he turned back to look at the man as he walked away. When Crimp saw him staring, he kept his steady pace away from James, but turned around to face him. He glared at James, and if he was closer, James was certain he would have heard a growl emanating from the man's throat. He sneered and stopped walking to stare at the commodore before James turned and walked away.

As James approached Jack, the older pirate slung his arm around his shoulders and grinned. "Can ye see 'er, lad?" James was not sure he appreciated being called a lad. He was not so young, he was sure... was he?

"I can see her. She is beautiful." They watched as the crew righted the ship, which was a lengthy process that James did not have the chance to fully appreciate.

Something hit him in the back of the head, and he stumbled forward onto his knees. Jack knelt down and picked up the offending item, then turned to identify the man who had thrown it.

"Mister Crimp! To me, you filthy blackguard! Now!" The man sauntered over to him and eyed the captain with contempt.

"Captain?"

"On yer knees sailor!" The man furrowed his brow until the captain grabbed his shirt and pulled the man to a kneeling position. "What is yer problem sailor?" The man moved to look up and speak but Jack grabbed his hair and forced his eyes to the sand. "Do not dare look upon yer betters with contempt, boy!"

The man was clearly angry but obeyed, fearing Jack Sparrow enough to overcome that ire. "I don't have a problem, Captain."

"Me arse you don't! Care t' tell me why ye've been castin' glares and unripe fruits," he waved the object in his hand before the man's nose, "at Norrington 'ere?"

"'Twasn't—"

"What? 'Twasn't a good idea, that's wha' 'twasn't! It was yer stupid idea of a joke, hazing or what have ye, but ye should know better, sailor!" He turned to face the rest of the men now crowding the three of them for a better look. "All of ye should show this man th' greatest respect! 'E, more 'n I, 'olds yer future in 'is lily white 'ands! Ye forget too soon tha' this man is th' executioner, allow me t' remind ye tha' dozens of yer brethren 'ave stood at 'is mercy, and dozens 'ave died at 'is 'ands! Don't forget it!" He waited for the men to let this sink in, and James stood there staring at Jack and then at nothing when the pirate moved to pick Crimp up off the sand and send him away and back to work.

Executioner? What was he? Some kind of madman? Some kind of master swordsman? What had he done to warrant such a title? He looked up from the ground at Jack whose eyes were hiding something. Before James could say anything, Jack stepped forward and clapped him on the arm.

"Ye've somethin' of a reputation among pirates. Jus' because they know of yer affliction they think they can flaunt power over ye. Stand up to 'em. If there were any man in th' world I would not want on me bad side, any man who I'd do anythin' t' 'ave at me own back, it'd be you."

James was stunned, but Jack did not elaborate. After the pirate walked away to oversee the return of his ship to its glory, James still stood in the sand hoping that maybe he would be able to remember... anything.

* * *

So smooth and dark, she was, so sleek, like a cat. Jack was certain if he had not named her Pearl, he would have chosen something like "Jaguar", something fast and dangerous. It seemed that he had forgotten that in the time he had spent on the Pearl after the escapade with Barbossa and the curse; he had forgotten that she was fast and dangerous, something to be wary around, something to respect. He remembered that now.

Jack's boot rested on the solid wood, and he tapped his toe a couple of times hearing the click of his worn leather against it. He sighed and took a tentative step onto his one true love.

His hand met the rail as he walked along and he closed his eyes, remembering the feel of the grain beneath his fingers, memorizing anew each crack and crevice that met them. He opened his eyes and was seeing her for the first time all over again. His very breath was stolen from him as he looked up upon her, glanced past the ropes and ties to the gorgeous new white sails he had stuck to her only months past. He ascended the steps and stood to the helm. He held his breath as he reached out tentatively with only a finger at first, as though afraid something terrible would happen the instant he touched it. But when she did not creak, groan, or fall apart when he tapped the pad of his index finger against one of the handgrips, he grew bolder and slid more fingers along the smooth wood. His hand clasped it, turned it clockwise, then back, and then he grasped it with both hands and felt like he could let out a mighty yell, but only a sigh escaped his lips.

"All aboard, mates!" He called, not sparing a moment to glance at his crew. He waited for them to move and when they did not immediately, he sneered. "To yer places ye scabrous dogs! Weigh anchor! Make way!" They scurried about to answer his orders, some pulling up the last of the boats just as the last man climbed aboard.

If Jack had been taken before by the Pearl, he was mistaken in thinking that there could be nothing more desirable than seeing her white sails billowing with wind as she bore them off to unexplored places. When Jack looked upon the chestnut head as it appeared across the ship, glanced into the green eyes, then stared at those red lips, the bottom one disappearing beneath bone white teeth as he bit upon it nervously, he realized that the only thing that could be better was standing before him.

James' trousers were loose on him, and a little too short. The man had legs like a horse and the finest arse in the Caribbean. Jack did not blink while he took in the sight of the man's open shirt, borrowed from Jack himself, and pants tied loosely around his waist. The man looked like he hadn't eaten well in days, but was energetic and ready for action. How the man could look so good and be so thin Jack did not know. All he knew was that the only thing more important than the Pearl right now, was James.

"Norrington! To me, lad!"

James smiled over at Jack and gave a sarcastic salute to the captain while strutting to his side. "I do wish you would cease calling me that."

Jack laughed and slung his arm around the taller man's shoulder. "Yer a lad t' me."

James laughed too and looked back at the island, as it grew smaller. It was very silent for a long moment, but neither man found it uncomfortable or felt the need to fill it with idle chatter, however James could not contain his thoughts despite the comfort of the moment.

"This is right," he said. "This feels like I have been missing it too long. This feels old and special, you know? Something I should remember and enjoy." He laughed and shrugged, trying to dismiss his words as foolishness, when he saw Jack's meaningful look in his direction.

Jack ignored the nervous laugh and nodded, catching the man's eye. "It was all I ever wanted, and all I ever needed once."

"The sea is your lover and the Pearl your mistress. I have thought so before."

"Yer right... but the ocean, James... she is a fickle bitch. She may get angry in a second, cast you out to sea, throw a storm upon you, break you, bury you in her depths, and for no reason. Her love is a woman's love, mate, and a woman's love is always shallow."

James' eyes bored into Jack's; the pirate imagined he saw something disturbing in them. "A woman's love...."

Jack looked away, trying not to think of her, trying not to remember the girl that brought James to Jack. She was too clear in his mind. Her hair unrestrained and flowing down her back, in only her shift, wet, transparent, and Jack the only one there to admire when the view was clearly wasted on him. Nay, Jack never sought the love of a woman, because no matter how beautiful, charming or sweet, they were too full of lies, deceit and trickery, and no amount of charm could cover that from him. He much preferred to be the deceiver.

He looked at James and blinked slowly before smiling to himself. "Ye know what, mate?" He asked, drawing his lover's eyes to himself. "I believe introductions are in order!"

"Introductions?"

"Aye! Ye've yet t' meet th' Pearl... again. B'sides... ye 'aven't seen th' best part."

James raised his eyebrow and Jack smirked at him, letting his arm slide down the man's back to reach his buttocks where his fingers squeezed gently. He winked at James' confused expression, and spoke bluntly.

"Captain's cabin, mate."

Chapter Six: Before the Dawn

The world was silent before the dawn. The whole ship was asleep or off doing something in the wee hours before the light struck the surface of the water and cast shimmering silhouettes against the hull of the ship. James breathed deep the salty air and stared into the darkness, up at the stars.

His heart was both heavy and light and he could not explain it, even to himself. He felt like he had been long awaiting a break, that he had been carrying a mountain and suddenly he dropped it and realized that maybe he should try to move just a rock at a time. He felt like burdens and responsibilities that he had never asked for nor wanted were suddenly gone. He felt freer, but from what?

And that was the cause of the heaviness he felt inside. He didn't know if he wanted to remember what he had been before this all happened. He thought maybe it would be a nice change for a while to not have to worry about whatever caused the tension he felt in his chest and back, but how could he really escape the tension if he did not remember it. The duties were not gone, just forgotten, that might not be for the best. James wondered if maybe he would wake up and remember that he could not actually take the mountain apart and all would be for naught.

Then, though... then there was Jack. James knew somehow, though the thought came unbidden into his head, that there had been nothing greater than Jack to happen to him, at least in the recent history of his life. Jack was unrestrained, he was not tense, nor worried; he had fewer lines than many his age because he simply had no reason to frown. And what was better, but Jack made James feel like frowning was a crime. He made James feel like he was light as air and the world was not so bad a place as they both knew it was. Somewhere inside James, something remembered that he had not felt like that in a very long time, and never as completely as with the pirate captain.

When James noticed that the sky was lightening, he looked down from the stars that he could no longer see. His neck cracked, and he smiled, chastising himself for letting his mind wander and his neck grow stiff. He turned around, intending to return to the captain's cabin.

Someone else had clearly thought to enjoy the silence before the hustle and bustle of the day, also, and he was the only other person on deck aside from James.

James hoped to ignore him. He wanted to just walk by and return to Jack's side before he awakened and they returned to their duties. Crimp standing directly in line with the path he wished to take was not going to help matters, however.

James took a step forward; Crimp took one closer to him. James sighed and let his shoulders slouch. "God forbid you would make it easy," he muttered to himself.

Crimp smirked like he had heard the man's words though James doubted that was possible. The commodore figured he should at least make an attempt at courtesy.

"Good morning, mister Crimp. You're out of bed early."

"Aye. 'Eard somethin' stompin' 'round up 'ere while I were tryin' t' sleep." He sneered at James and James raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I apologize, Crimp, but I was restless and thought that I would be less a nuisance up here than down there yelling at you all to get out of bed. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to be off."

He stepped forward but Crimp mirrored his movement. "C'mon, Jamie, lad. Don' ye wanna spend time wit' me?" He fingered the cutlass attached to his hip, seemingly casual, but threatening nonetheless.

"Truthfully, no sir, so if you will excuse me—" He moved to step by but Crimp was faster and James had not expected his abrupt advance. The man grabbed James, spinning him into a chokehold. James' hands immediately lifted to his throat to pull on the arms, knowing that he would be useless as a fly batting its wings at the man, but reflexes are reflexes, after all.

James regained his mind in mere seconds after that, however and his hands dropped down, clasping together and his elbow shot back catching the man in the ribs. Crimp doubled over, coughing and releasing James as he grabbed his own stomach. James' hand reached out and suddenly he was holding the hilt of the cutlass the pirate had been fingering a moment ago.

Crimp looked up and backed away, letting go of himself and putting himself on guard. He laughed and sneered, wheezing a little still. "Yer no' man 'nough t' use 'at."

James' face was cold and expressionless. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, "No?"

Wrist flat, blade shoulder height, right foot forward, knees bent, arm behind his back... James was ready should the man come at him. He was not ready, however, for Jack's appearance.

The pirate captain appeared at the door to the captain's cabin, and James' eyes were distracted for a moment, long enough for Crimp to lunge at him and put him on the deck, flat on his back.

The sword was out of his hand and James smelled danger before Crimp even stood up. He rolled to his side and stood by the mast. Crimp sneered at him and Jack, to his right, called his name. He looked and caught the blade that was flying through the air cleanly in his hand.

James' mouth was pursed and his brow set. He would wait for the other man to make the first move. James knew that he could wait forever, but everyone else always seemed to be so impatient, it would only be a moment.

Sure enough, Crimp made the first lunge at him, which he parried and riposte only to have Crimp parry back. James took a few steps backward and found himself far too close to the mast for his comfort. He sidestepped a few times, but Crimp lunged before he went far.

James parried into a feint and parried the riposte with a little struggle. When Crimp counter parried, James was ready for it and simply leaned to the side allowing Crimp to fall too close. James pushed him backward, grabbed his arm and swung him against the mast. The man grunted and almost fell but swung behind the pole before James' sword could come anywhere near him.

James stood in his place until Crimp moved out from behind the wood and then he took the first lunge, meant as a surprise. Crimp could not move out of the way fast enough and tripped over his feet, landing on the hard wood of the Pearl with a thud. He scurried backward, but James caught up to him. He placed the tip of his blade at the man's throat and Crimp stopped breathing.

"Are you quite finished?"

His breaths were shallow but still the tip of the sword stuck into his skin enough to draw blood. James almost smiled.

"Answer."

Crimp swallowed and tossed his cutlass away staring into James' green eyes, dark with fury. James nodded and stepped back. He did not say anything as he turned around; he just looked at Jack without expression, not even registering the multitude of other sailors that had joined him on deck to watch the entertainment.

It was not sound or instinct that caused James to move, but the look in Jack's eyes. The pirate looked proud for an instant, he was about to come to James and congratulate him for biting the dog on the ear and showing him who was in charge, but his eyes glazed and it was clear his focus was behind him. Before James moved, he saw the hint of fear cross the man's features.

James spun and ducked, driving a shoulder into something heavy but soft, a stomach. He displaced the hand and arm that were about to drive a knife into his back, taking the object from the man wielding it. He shoved him and returned his right foot to its position, swinging his blade down without mercy. Crimp stumbled backward and James spun the knife in his own hand. Forearm at neck, knife at bollocks, Crimp was not going anywhere.

Jack watched the whole thing with a vague sense of detachment. He did not register that this might be a battle to the death. He did not register that he might have to bury his lover, or one of his crew. To be truthful, Jack was watching James. He was watching the way the man moved. His back was always straight, his shoulders always back, and his posture always perfect.

This was not all Jack noticed, nor all that he liked. Jack would love James any which way he might want to be. He could be prim and proper Commodore of the British Royal Navy, or he could be sleazy, imperfect pirate James Norrington, either way, Jack would have been happy. But to see this... this combination of commodore and pirate, perfect style, perfect technique and perfect ass with a ruthless, mean, frightening side that Jack had not realized that the commodore possessed... the sight made Jack hard.

He had to work to restrain a groan when James had the sword at the man's throat; he swallowed hard and bit his tongue. When James so bluntly threatened the pirate without fancy words or... or even a real threat, using just the tone of his voice, the set of his shoulders and an expression that promised death and pain on his face, Jack's cock leapt to attention. This man was the epitome of sex. He was sex on a plate, and James himself didn't even know it.

The way James spun, slashing at the brigand and disarming him without a thought, the way he held the pirate in such a compromising position with ease and nonchalance, Jack was breathing hard, blood pounding through his body. However, he forced himself to watch the battle, watch the conclusion at least, and with the eye of a pirate, not of a lover.

James took this moment of silence to calm his rage and register the open skin on the man's forehead, a stripe down from his left temple to the bridge of his nose and a faint scratch against his cheek. The blood trickled into his left eye, but he did not blink.

"Of all the things in this world you might want, mister Crimp, my castrating you probably is not one of them, and thus you should keep in mind, any sort of scuffle or fight we might have in the future will no doubt result in that. Keep your distance, man, and keep your pride intact."

He jabbed the knife in a little until he felt skin give way, and Crimp screamed a high-pitched whine and instinctively pulled his hips back. James carefully removed the knife from his privates and tucked it in his pocket shoving the man down against the rail once more before he turned and stalked away, all eyes on him, except for Crimp's, which were busy looking at the blood staining his pants.

James stormed through the doors out of which Jack had just come. Jack spared no glance for Crimp, but turned and followed.

* * *

His blood was rushing through his veins and his hands were shaking. He heard the door open and close again behind him, he saw the shadow on the floor next to him, but he did not turn around. He was shaking with left over anger.

After a moment, Jack still hadn't spoken, and James was worried that perhaps he was bent on scolding James for his behaviour; he forced himself into calmness. He swallowed hard and kept his fists clenched.

"I'm sorry," he said.

There was silence for a moment, and then a soft, "For wha'?"

James rolled his shoulders and bent his neck a little; it cracked under the tension. "For behaving... the way I did...."

There were footsteps behind him until Jack was inches from him. "Don't be."

James turned to face Jack. The pirate's eyes were imploring and lust filled. Jack didn't move to touch James, he was not frightened of him, no nothing so simple... he was just... cautious. The last thing he wanted to do was anger the pirate hunter who was in a delicate position right now. He did not want James to be angry at him... nor did he want him to be angry at himself.

"I am just so sick of him bullying me, pushing me around, assuming I cannot fight back. They all consider me a toy to play with, something that is constantly in the way and has no real use. I just... I got so angry and I needed... I needed to show the bastard that he cannot just threaten me all the time and assume that he wins just because I don't."

Jack nodded. "He needed tha'. It's good tha' ye were th' one t' give it to 'im. 'E cannot see authority unless it 'its 'im in th' 'ead... or cuts 'im open."

James blushed a little then. "I did not mean to... I mean... I meant to, just, not to...."

Jack smiled but did not laugh. "Ye meant to, an' it was okay. It migh' bother ye t' be ruthless, but it doesn't bother ye t' kill in self defence, and tha' was wha' this was."

James nodded. "Yes... but he made me so angry!" He clenched his fists together.

"Anger is no' always bad, so long as ye harness it, and so long as ye can keep yer head. Ye did both." He smiled and James looked at him. "Ye were strong, ye were perfect. Ye had lovely technique and style...." Jack moved closer and James watched him with a wary eye. Jack's voice was low, his eyes examining James' torso and then his lower half, including the mound in his trousers. "Great moves... great legs...."

Without any pre-emptive measures, James' mouth locked onto Jack's. The pirate responded eagerly, his own lips and teeth forced upon James', tongue thrust into his mouth. A groan escaped the pirate and Jack's hips bucked forward.

James threw his lover against the wall, pinning him with his own body. He withdrew his lips and Jack's head bent forward, seeking them again. James grasped the pirate's head roughly and held it in place, moving his lips to Jack's neck and tilting his head to give him better access. He bit a little harder than was necessary and Jack twitched. He bit again with equal force and the pirate shuddered, a groan escaping his lips.

"God, Jamie, love. More... mo—oh!"

James struggled not to tear the man's shirt, but that was not on the top of his list of priorities at the moment and he carelessly discarded the garment and latched his lips to Jack's nipple, his hand still holding Jack's head. He pried the man's legs apart with his knee and ground his thigh into Jack's crotch.

Jack arched into the precious friction, and twitched and groaned at the bites and licks and prolonged sucking of his nipple. He swallowed hard when James took the pebble between his teeth and pulled gently on it, then laved it with his tongue in apology. He repeated the act until Jack was positively mad with want.

"Please...."

James pulled away from Jack and let go of him abruptly. Jack was about to argue or make some indication that this was not at all what he had in mind with that plea, but James dropped to his knees and tugged at Jack's breeches with his teeth. He mouthed the hard organ through the fabric and looked up longingly at Jack, with passion and fury buried inside him waiting to get out.

Jack fumbled with the laces of his trousers, trying to untie them and having no luck. His hands shook and his mind was clouded. He tried opening his eyes to see his own actions, but that proved a further distraction in that he could now see the expression on James' face, the promise of good things to come if Jack could only get his bloody pants down!

He took a few deep breaths and tried to unlace them again but James finally took mercy on the poor debauched pirate and guided him to freedom. When Jack's hard member bounced free of its entrapments, Jack let out a sigh that began to sound suspiciously like a groan when James resumed his ministrations without the barrier of material between he and his prize.

James' tongue wrapped itself partway around Jack's throbbing cock and Jack's eyes wanted to flutter shut, but he forced himself to watch. He wanted to see the delectable look on James' face, the one that made Jack think that the man was going to eat him alive. He wanted to watch as James laved Jack's balls with his hot tongue, wanted to watch the flurry of emotions cross the man's face; desire, intrigue, contemplation, and finally enthusiasm.

James held steady to Jack's hips as he finally placed a single kiss upon the head of his cock and let his lips slide open as he pushed the length into his mouth, carefully rolling his lips under to save Jack from the scratch of teeth except when James decided it would be useful. He pulled Jack into his mouth until he felt the hardness touch the back of his throat. He did not gag, he withstood the reflex, and instead sucked harder until Jack was keening.

Jack uttered things that might have been words in another language, but James suspected they were just mumblings of a man incapable of putting syllables together with any success. He was succumbing to the delicious slide and pull of forces against his cock, feeling the heat generated by James' luscious mouth and occasionally the talented scrape of teeth against his skin that made Jack cry out, his hips come forward only to be held in place by James' strong arms.

Jack felt James' hand move from his side but it did not register in his head what that meant. James pulled on Jack's cock with his lips and sucked hard and Jack took a long pull of fresh air, holding his breath at the sensation. It was then that he felt a curious finger probing the entrance to his backside and Jack could not hold his breath any longer. He exhaled forcefully, and James pressed his finger in past the initial ring of muscle. Jack cried out in surprise and pleasure, and James eagerly swallowed the rush of fluid that spurted into his mouth.

Jack's knees could not withstand this ordeal, and the man found himself tumbling to the floor, held weakly by James who caught him before he could hurt himself. Jack lay down on the floor, a good remedy for an adrenaline rush and weak knees.

James knelt over Jack and kissed him again, rubbing his own hard cock through his trousers against Jack's leg.

Jack's eyes were still hot and passionate. "And you, love?"

"I would have you." He nuzzled at Jack's neck and locked his lips around a particularly sensitive spot just under his earlobe. Jack groaned when he felt James' hand pressing between his thighs. His fingers were slick, with the oil from the drawer perhaps? Jack didn't know; he had been too preoccupied to notice James grab anything.

Jack sighed and pushed down on James' fingers when he felt them push at his entrance. "Oh, God, Jamie, love... want you... want you so much."

Jack's fingers wrapped around James' wrist and helped James push his fingers into the pirate captain, receiving a grunt for his efforts. James waited for Jack to indicate he was comfortable before moving, but Jack pressed down on those fingers, impaling himself before James knew what was happening. James groaned at the sight of the man fucking himself on James' fingers.

Jack wriggled a little and gasped, "Come on, James, we 'aven't all day." James pressed another finger inside, amounting to three, and Jack breathed heavily. James' heart was pounding and his cock throbbing, pressed against Jack's hip, he felt he would come undone just watching the way Jack reacted to having those fingers inside him, watching the way Jack writhed when he crooked his fingers like this. He thought that if he were to embed himself in that tight heat he might be immediately undone. Oh, how he needed to come undone.

Jack's eyes were open, and James realized he had hesitated. Long enough for the captain to regain his bearings. He rolled over on top of James and kissed him. He pulled the man's trousers down with one hand, more adeptly than he had been able to do for himself tenfold, and he took no care for the shirt, tearing it open so he could have ample view of his lover's shapely chest. Even that terrible mark on his side where his stomach, no doubt, still hurt.

Jack fed off the lust in the commodore's eyes. He wanted to suck it out of him. He lowered himself down onto James' hard cock abruptly enough that it shocked him, but almost undid James at once.

Jack did not pause to allow them to get used to the sensation, it was not the time for tender lovemaking. He raised himself up and slammed his hips down, feeling that gorgeous length inside him, filling him, his cock slapping against James' stomach, hardening rapidly again after his recent release.

James growled and grabbed Jack's hips. He tossed the man over onto his back and followed, driving himself into Jack with enough force to bruise his hips against Jack's. Jack cried out and gripped James' back, his short nails digging into his skin. James did not notice. He slammed his hips down into Jack again; Jack groaned. He thrust again and Jack lifted himself up, legs wrapped around his torso, meeting James' movements.

James grit his teeth and pushed in again, crushing Jack on the downward movement, banging the captain's head against the hard wood wall of the cabin. Jack's cock was rubbing against his skin, Jack's hand was inching between them to take matters unto himself, but James slapped him away. He took Jack's prick in his hands with force and pumped quickly, in time with the rough, hard rhythm.

It was only a moment before Jack began to tense under James, his whole body convulsing and his hips pushing back in one final movement before his release shot out between them. Jack choked on the sounds he made in his throat and rode out his orgasm, his body clenching against James' cock as it continued its rhythm for a moment before the tight heat was too much for him to bear any longer.

"Jack!" He exclaimed. His seed spilled from him in torrents that he thought would not end until he was laying prone atop Jack, trying to catch his breath. Jack kissed his jaw, as far as he could reach with James laying on him like so, and nuzzled his hair a little. It smelled very good to Jack and he imagined that he could get used to this scent. He could very easily fall in love with this scent and the way James draped himself across Jack's body. He could very easily get used to feeling the man curled up against him, legs strewn all over the place, entangled in ways that should not be physically possible making it so difficult that it in itself would become an erotic game. It would be very easy to fall in love with this man.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm sorry."

Jack chuckled. "Don't be, tha' was fun."

James smiled and nodded, rolling off of Jack and laying on his side, propped up by his arm. He was silent again for a moment and then Jack heard his mouth open before he heard the words. "Jack... did you... did you love me?"

Jack paused for a moment; had the man read his mind? He swallowed and then turned his head to face James. His face and eyes were serious and he stared at the pools of green in James' eyes for a moment before responding. "I never stopped."

Chapter Seven: Sealed With Lies

It has been a long time since I looked upon these pages. I still see disgrace written in scrawling ink through this book, but it is a good reminder and a remedy for a sore head and a guilty heart.

It's been a while since I could hold my head high, since I could be proud of Captain Jack Sparrow. If I had known the consequences rendered by my actions, I would not have committed some of these crimes, I would not have fucked things up again. I cannot say that I love, or even like myself very much right now. For days, I have thought upon this, since we left that little island, actually.

I feel worse every day, I feel like I have wronged him something terrible. How often do I, Captain Jack Sparrow, feel like I have genuinely done something wrong to another person? How often do I feel I should repent? How often do I feel just a man? Only when I have hurt someone I loved.

When I left Mother alone, when I left Cassandra in the arms of the Count, when I was going to trade that bloke for the Pearl, to name a few. I know that I should confess, should apologize, but can I give up these warm mornings? Can I give up the way he looks at me, the way he smiles in the light of the sun? Can I give him up?

As bad as I feel for hurting him, I don't know that I am strong enough, that I am good enough to tell him how terrible I am. I cannot bear the image of his disappointed, hateful face in my mind's eye when I tell him I lied to him. He trusted me utterly, and I buggered him, literally in fact. He would hate me as much as I do, but even as I know where the path of the righteous and proper would take me, even as I do not go there, everything about me, bad, terrible, worst... it all disappears when I am with him.

I feel addicted sometimes, like I cannot get enough. He's the only bloody thing holding me on my own two feet. When I cannot look at myself straight, cannot see his face through the unshed tears over what I have done, he still smiles at me just so and I can still remember just the way he tastes... then I forget.

I can't bring myself to say what needs to be said. I cannot bring myself to say I'm sorry.

Jack closed the book and buried it back down at the bottom of the chest, locking it tightly and placing the key inside his cupboard, then locking that too and placing that key in a grungy pocket. He took a long pull of the second bottle of rum he had opened that night. He looked over at James' sleeping face, at the sheets entwined around his naked limbs and his hair falling softly on his forehead. Jack drank again. He didn't even know. He didn't know what Jack was doing to him.

Jack knew the guilt was only worse when he drank more, but he needed the remorse. He needed the knowledge that what he had done was wrong and he needed to goad himself into fixing it. He had to help the man, not torment him. Hell, James wasn't even being helpful to the crew and their plans. He had no memory of pirates in these waters, no memories of the navy. He might remember naval strategies and be able to help them plan and attack or counterattack on a naval ship, but Jack could easily come up with a way to raid a ship of His Majesties Service himself.

Suddenly, the real reason he had brought James aboard was not so important, nor so logical, as it had once seemed. It was no longer Jack's reason for keeping him. No, now the reason he kept James aboard was far more personal.

Jack sighed and drank the last of the rum. He stood to deposit the bottle somewhere it would not roll around, but found that his legs would not obey him farther than lifting him so he could fall.

The bottle banged on the ground but did not break, and Jack pulled the chair down with him onto the ground. He struggled for a moment to stand when he saw a hand before his face, an offer of assistance. He looked up into the sleepy face of James Norrington, a silly smile on his lips, and Jack took the hand. James helped him without a word of protest and manoeuvred Jack toward the bed where he sat down.

James put the bottle on the floor and looked at his lover. "Why are you still up?"

Jack shrugged an frowned, "No reason, Jamie love, jus' wanted t' 'ave some time 'lone wit' me rum."

James smiled weakly, but Jack was unable to keep a straight face in the wake of his night of drinking. "Jack, is something the matter?" James knew better than to provoke Jack, he made it as much a question and as little an accusation as he could.

Jack shrugged, "Nuffin', Jamie, nuffin'."

"Are you certain, Jack? You look terrible."

Jack pouted and averted his eyes. He sighed and shivered a little. When the shivering did not stop, James realized that he was not shaking from the cold, but from the tears that he tried to pull back into his eyes. James felt his throat catch and become sore. He wrapped an arm around Jack and kissed the top of his head. Jack let himself be comforted for once and fell into his lover's embrace.

Silence was broken after a moment when Jack sobbed. At length he said, "I'm sorry, James."

James pulled back to look at Jack, but thought better of it and returned to his previous posture so as not to upset his lover further. "Whatever for, Jack?"

Jack shook his head. "For you, ye daft bugger. For what's happened, for ev'rythin'... all on account o' me." He laughed, but it was bitter, "Can't stand meself. Fuckin' ev'rythin' up all th' time. Hurtin' ye all th' time. I can't stand t' 'urt ye." He sniffed and wiped his eyes, finally smearing some of that kohl. He confessed, "I love you... God James, I love you...."

James held Jack tighter, hoping that he could express that he laid no blame on the pirate for his memory loss. "I don't blame you, Jack. I don't blame you anything." He pulled away from Jack, with resistance, and stared into the man's eyes. "I know you love me, Jack, and I know you are suffering, but I will not blame you for... for anything. I love you, Jack."

Jack snickered and sniffled at the same time in doubt, "'Ye think ye did."

"Whether I did before is of no consequence... I love you now, Jack."

Jack pondered this for a moment in silence. "You barely know me."

"I know enough."

* * *

It was early in the day that they reached Tortuga. Will hurried Elizabeth away from the waterfront and kept her hand enclosed in his as tightly as possible, which was not really necessary because she was clutching his arm with her other hand.

Will had forgotten how filthy and disgusting this place was. He had forgotten, or he never would have brought Elizabeth to such a place. She might have gone herself, being so determined to find James, and of course, he would have gone with her, but to lead her into such a flea-ridden slagheap of a town... no if he remembered this would be the last place he would have taken her.

It was clear that none of the patrons of the Mermaid's Tail remembered him from his travels with Jack. All the better for him, he was not sure he would have Elizabeth know he spent a night in this town, that this was where they found Jack's crew.

He watched her from their table closely. She insisted that she handle this herself, against his wishes, and he would not have harm come to her even if she sat him down at this table with a tankard of weak ale and asked around about their friend James, lost at sea.

Will sighed. It was already starting to seem hopeless and it had been less than two weeks since James had been cast into the sea. This was the first town they had docked at, at Elizabeth's insistence of course, and already they had scoured the whole place, asked every sober and coherent person they could find, and now they were visiting taverns and houses of ill repute to ask if anyone had seen him.

He told Elizabeth that they best bunk down here for the night. He did not want to walk with her through the streets of Tortuga at night. This would be their last stop for the day. Perhaps on the morrow, they would find something.

* * *

Jack opened his eyes in the early morning light. It was more than a week out from the island. He didn't know how close they were to Tortuga, he would have to estimate, though, judge where to steer. He'd essentially left it up to Anamaria for the past few days. Jack was mostly healed himself, feeling slightly light-headed every once in a while, but otherwise able to function. It didn't matter how much he insisted he was well, though. The crew and the first mate insisted that he rest, take care of the other injured on board.

They were making out all right without their smallest member, but Ana had taken on most of his duties as well as acting for captain when Jack was locked in his chambers. He almost felt like a prisoner on his own ship. Everyone, James, Ana, Gibbs and the rest of the crew, all insisted that he take it easy. They limited his time on deck to short spurts of five hours at a time or less broken up by hour-long breaks or more. He was putting up with it for now only because of James, but sooner or later that man was going to let him get out of bed without luring him back in.

Jack did not look forward to that day. He smiled as he peered over at the younger man. He was still fast asleep on his side, facing away from the window. James was not a very erratic sleeper. He tended to pick a position and stick to it, until Jack rolled over and almost knocked him off the bed, at which point James would give him a shove, roll on top of the captain, and wake him up very pleasantly. Jack used every opportunity possible to shove Norrington to the edge of the bed.

The man was trying hard to help on deck, but everyone already had positions, and James was not in any condition to do some of the more difficult work that they did not want to do, so he tended to be shoved aside, only to be retrieved by the captain, who was unsurprisingly distracted.

But how could Jack not be? That gleaming white smile and those piercing green eyes looking at him darkly, as though the man was thinking something very devilish and Jack just couldn't wait to be alone with him so he could let out his mischievous side. James so liked to let go in private. He was always very attentive, stating that he loved the reactions he elicited from his lover. Jack did not mind. Sometimes Jack wondered if James liked it better when he was the one acting and Jack was the one writhing beneath him.

Jack smiled at the thought. The man did prove himself worthy in more places than the bedroom, though. When Jack wasn't looking, James, who was clearly feeling much better, would be scaling the rigging, fixing a sail, or doing something else that needed doing until Ana screamed at him from across deck, then screamed at Jack for allowing an injured crew member work. Then, of course, she would send them both away to the Captain's cabin where they would, no doubt, be exerting themselves more than on deck.

Jack did value the work the man did. It intrigued him to see how James worked like a common sailor with so much excitement and attentiveness. Jack could tell just by watching him sulk about with nothing to do, that this man was made for the sea. He was made for a ship. He could not possibly be happy stuffed in his office, watching his men sail his ships away, onto great adventures and leaving him behind. Jack thought James must be lonely. He must be sad.

It made Jack ache somehow to know that this was the only chance, superficial as it was, for the man to do what he loved anymore. All that he had ever wanted, all that he had ever worked for was taken away as he moved up in the ranks. That was the problem with the bloody navy, Jack always thought. They rewarded the hardest workers with less work and boredom instead of freedom and fun. If their policy was "let every hard-working man have his own ship and crew and be free to sail and do business as he pleases" then Jack would have stuck to the Navy when he was young.

The Navy was not like that, though, and Jack knew that this was the only chance that James would have in the near, or perhaps far, future, to do what he was made to do. Jack was happy to know that he could be there to witness the freedom, the working, the lovely fineness of the man doing what he wanted after so long. He was glad to see him climbing the mast, mending, nailing, sanding, fixing, and not just because that meant he got to see those muscles stretch and flex and gleam white, and maybe a little pink, in the hot Caribbean sun. It meant a lot, for some reason, that Jack could see this uptight, stressed out, strict man enjoy himself. It meant a lot that Jack could make him happy. Jack didn't know why.

Oh, sure, he had considered the implication of this contentment in the middle of the night when he was deep in his cups. He had considered what it might mean that the Captain of the fiercest pirate ship left in the Caribbean could enjoy spending so much time with the Commodore of the British Royal Navy, but he would not let his mind wrap around it in the light of day.

It couldn't be, after all. It was ridiculous to contemplate! Just because he felt something in his gut fluttering when he saw the man smile at him, just because he felt very warm when James spoke to Jack about anything at all, just because when the man touched him it was all Jack could think that he couldn't wait to make him thrash about in the privacy of his chambers. That didn't mean that Jack was— No he couldn't even say it.

He sighed and frowned. It was hard. Jack had learned long ago that it was a fool's hope to think that he might be interested in this man in more than a passing way. He had learned long ago that the suit of a sailor was that he had only one love, and that was the ocean herself.

Jack sat up abruptly, shaking the thought out of his head. 'Besides,' he thought, ' it's not as though the man would give a rat's arse about him if he found out.... Best not think about that either.'

It actually made something inside Jack ache when he thought about that. It felt similar to how his heart hurt after ten years without his Pearl. Like he was going to lose a piece of himself for a very long time, perhaps forever, and Jack couldn't handle that. Not again.

'The day will come, you know.'

'Shut up,' he told himself. 'That day is not today.'

Not today.

* * *

James opened his eyes slowly. It was early, he knew, and they could probably have a little more sleep, but something had stirred him. Jack was sitting up with his face in his hands. He might have been rubbing sleep from his eyes or just resting, but James did not move until Jack did. He got up.

James sat up and Jack turned to face him, smiling belatedly. "Morning, Jack."

"Aye, 'tis. Quite early, also. Ye might get a little more sleep if ye can."

James raised an eyebrow. "And you?"

"Thought I'd take a walk."

"Would you care for company?"

"It's early, mate."

"We can go back to bed later." He smiled slowly, letting the grin spread across his features tooth by tooth. Jack paused in thought and then nodded, though without the roguish grin James had hoped for. James hurried to pull on some pants and left his shirt undone before joining Jack on deck.

He was halfway around the deck, nodding to the sailor at the helm on his way past. James waited for Jack to come around again, giving him a moment alone. Sometimes James didn't know about Jack. He seemed very content with James or Anamaria steering the Pearl, but when he thought that his lover was not looking or when he was on his own, James knew that something was bothering him by the look on his face. He hid it cleverly from the crew, but James felt that he knew a little more about Jack, simply because he had been so intimate with him. Perhaps he was wrong, but James thought not.

Jack was wearing that face right now. He looked like he was thinking, like he was waiting for his decisions to make themselves for him. He looked like a man with a lot more weight on his shoulders than when James first met him. Sometimes James thought that Jack was upset about the memory loss, then Jack would talk about slighting James in some way, and of course, James did not know what he was talking about, but he wondered.

Jack rounded again, and James joined him at his side, walking casually. He didn't speak for a long time. Jack would speak if he wanted to and wouldn't be goaded into it unless he was drunk and James was being clever. Too many times, even when Jack was three sheets to the wind, James would try to get something out of him and Jack would catch him at it, refuse to respond. James was learning to either be very quick witted or to remain silent with Jack when he was as he was now.

"Ye know somethin's botherin' me."

"Yes."

"D' ye know what it is?"

"No, you haven't told me."

Jack nodded. "Do ye 'ave an idea?"

"I've several, but my opinions keep changing."

"Let's 'ear some."

James exhaled heavily, "Well, there is the theory that you beat me up, and that's how I lost my memory. There is the theory that something you had no control over happened, and I lost my memory. There is the theory that you're something you say you are not and cannot find it in you to tell me.... Really, all of them are based on the idea that you have failed to be entirely honest with me or tell me the whole story. Though, those are only the theories that revolve around me. There are others, like perhaps you have a lover in port that you don't want to know about me. Perhaps you're in deep trouble and you're dragging the crew and myself into it without our knowing. I really have a vivid imagination. You're very secretive, Jack."

"Keep things close to the vest, is all."

"Yes, but I would rather like to know what is wrong. It hurts me too, you know, to see you so depressed all the time."

Jack smiled, "Sorry t' bring yer spirits down, Jamie love."

James smiled. "Don't assume that I will be upset at what you have to say. I might not."

Jack laughed, "That is not important, though you probably would be. What's important is what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance, I can throw ye over board so ye'll cease bein' worried 'bout meself." His smile faltered and he did not meet James' eyes. His voice came out low, "But I can't live without ye."

"You don't have to. I am right here and here I will stay until future circumstances dictate I should be elsewhere."

Jack laughed and threw an arm around James. "Ye know, yer right, James, yer absolutely right."

James smiled at the change in Jack's demeanour. The man was not usually very good at acting, and James could usually tell when he was trying to. In this instance, he was not. They'd returned back to their starting point and the sun was starting to get a little higher in the sky. "You tired yet, Jack?"

The pirate smiled deviously and led the way back to bed.

* * *

James groaned and thrust his hips upward toward that hot mouth. He fisted the sheets and cried out, "Jack!"

The pirate's mouth was devilish and devious. It was driving James mad. He sucked on the hollow of flesh just beneath the head of the man's cock until James was thrashing on the bed. He then moved his lips a little lower, toward the base of the man's erection, and sucked there for a moment or two. James was not breathing properly. He seemed to either stop breathing or suck in too much air every time Jack did, well, anything.

Jack finished leaving his kisses down the length of James' prick and pulled back to drag his tongue up the underside to circle the hot muscle around the engorged head. Silvery tears were seeping out the slit and Jack lapped them up hungrily, with a growl, making James whimper deliciously from somewhere above him.

He sat up then and crawled slowly up James' body to kiss him. The man almost attacked Jack, he was so forceful in his kiss. Jack nearly toppled off the side of the bed, but James used the man's imbalance to his advantage, pushing Jack down onto the mattress beside where he was, and lowered himself to lay flush with Jack, pushing his hips into the man and eliciting a delightful groan. James loved having Jack at his mercy. He loved having the man beg and pant for more. He wanted to hear some of that this morning, but he would be disappointed... all right, so not exactly disappointed....

Jack used James' moment of hesitation to propel the man to his side, and unfortunately, that landed them off the bed and onto the hard wood of the deck. Fortunately, however, it landed Jack atop James. Jack returned to his kissing and licking down the commodore's body, not allowing James to have a moment of thought to himself. Jack pressed his lips into James' hip and allowed his hand to slide down between his legs. He stroked James' bollocks until he opened his legs wider of his own accord, then slid his fingers back farther to touch that private opening. James moaned and his cock leapt. Jack's lips moved to his prick, suckling on the end and eventually taking it carefully into his mouth. His hand was probing back there, though, and it made James writhe like a cat in heat, mewling for Jack and everything.

Using his less adept left hand to find the jar of vanilla scented oil on his bedside table, Jack opened it with his teeth, letting go of James, much to his distress, and coated his hand liberally with it.

When the oil, heated by his skin touched James' backside, he moaned and pushed down against those fingers at his entrance. Jack pushed one inside and James tensed, but only for a second as Jack continued his ministrations elsewhere. Jack waited for him to relax again and then probed further. When he struck that magical nerve inside James and the man shouted, "Jack! Fuck!" in that hoarse and unquestionably arousing bedroom voice of his, it was worth the fall.

He pressed another finger into James, trying not to grind his own erection into the hardwood floor. He tried to ignore the pulsing and the heat coming from the skin of the man beneath him, but when James arched into his mouth, he found it remarkable difficult not to simply reach down and ease his own suffering.

He pulled his fingers out to position a third one. James, unexpectedly, pushed himself down onto those fingers, using a hand on the wall for force's sake. Jack shuddered all over, mouth going slack and failing to retain the man's erection.

He could not help but give his lover the bare minimum in stretching, separating his fingers inside the man a few times until Norrington was begging for Jack to replace them with his aching prick. Then he could not help but follow orders. He slathered plenty of oil on himself and lifted James' leg over his shoulder. He tried to slide in slowly, he really did, but when he stopped after just the head was inside, James was clearly not going to wait. He gave another push off that wall, and Jack tried as best he could to simply reign himself in and not explode, as he felt his balls press into James' hips.

"Oh God, James."

"Jack, please...."

"Mmm?"

"Move, damn it!"

Jack did not try to restrain himself. He pulled back and slammed his hips into James' once, twice, again and again, until James was raking his back with his nails, short as they were.

"Fuck!"

Jack was not sure who had said that, not that it mattered. He gripped James' hips and James helped him by pushing off the wall to meet him halfway. Jack could not manage much longer. It was too hard, too frantic, and too hot. He was just going to... oh God.

"James!" He cried out and pushed himself in as hard as he could once more. James felt Jack's seed explode inside him, though Jack kept rocking. His hand sped up on his cock and Jack hit that nerve inside him once more as his movements subsided, but it was enough for James to let go.

He felt Jack lay on top of him, careless of the pool of semen trapped between them, and his eyes fell closed as he tried to regain a normal speed of breath.

So much for sleep.

* * *

"All right, ye scurvy blackguards, ye can all get yer arses off me ship 'ere and show not yer faces again until I call 'pon ye with news that she's good as new!" A raucous cheer rose from the crew as they took off down the docks.

They were finally docked; finally, they could get off the ship again and stretch their legs, though Jack and James felt no need to stretch, or to leave. They would be searching for a carpenter in the morning, but meanwhile, Jack was buying rounds at the pub. He slung his arm around James' shoulders.

"It is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep this sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga, savvy?" James looked around, and though the town was a welcome break from the isolation of the island and the ship, the company did not seem to be better in the least.

There were whores on every street corner, and not just on the corners, down the alleys and on the main roads, too. In fact, James would be surprised if there was a woman here who was not a prostitute or a madam. He was given a hundred offers, which only doubled rate when Jack slid his arm around James, in the span of the five minutes it took for them to get to the inn and their round of drinks.

Half the crew was already there and slapping on the back men they knew from their travels and tickling whores under their chins. Jack smiled at a few and gave some polite nods, but sat down with James and did not bother too long with anyone else.

"'Ey Cap'n!" Someone yelled as Jack stretched out his arm placing it across his companion's shoulders. He looked up with a raise of his eyebrows, "Wha' d'ye think of Mary Jane 'ere? She's a new girl."

He smiled as a petit blonde came his way, and the Madam of the place stood by and watched his reaction. The blonde perched herself on his knee, and James could have sworn he heard sounds similar to purring. The girl rubbed herself against the captain, breasts pressed against his chest and James did not know whether to be affronted or turned on when he took her lips with his and shared a very thorough mouth fucking with the young lady.

When he pulled away, the room had grown quieter and most pairs of eyes were focused on him. He grinned up at the madam and raised the drink he had received while he was otherwise engaged. "She's a lovely'un t' be sure. 'Owever, miss, ye know 'ow me tastes run. Best try 'er out on one o' me crew."

The madam smiled as though receiving a fine compliment, and the girl stood from his knee, still swaying as though dancing to music only in her head. "O' course cap'n, an' who d'ye think would like the pleasure?"

Jack seemed to be scouring the room. "I don' know, boys, which of ye's been stayin' out of enough trouble lately t' warrant a romp wit' Mary Jane, 'ere, my treat." The men started to make as much noise as they could, barking, banging on tables, rattling plates and cups here and there until Jack held out his hand for silence. "'Ow about you, Duncan? Seems t' me ye could use a good shag."

There were various groans around the room and Duncan laughed, shaking his head. "Nay cap'n, I've two nails in me coffin as it is, me wife will no' be pleased."

Jack called on Moises, but he too declined politely, looking only a little wistfully at Mary Jane before he turned to grin at his wife. "Well then, men, I don't know who deserves most t' be in th' good graces of milady 'ere. How's about James?" He turned to face the stunned crewmember. Jack eased his shock, saying, "Why don't ye pick someone t' 'ave their turn wit' this fine maid?"

James' mouth gaped like a fish out of water before he realized he should be choosing. He scanned the room and pretended to be thinking when he caught the fiery gaze of a man across the room with a cut above his eye, eating from his plate without looking. "Mr. Crimp," he said, "you look like you could use a good rogering."

The man did not stop chewing but he leaned back from his plate and crossed his arms in front of him. "Says who?" He asked.

James shrugged, "Well if you don't want a chance with the lovely Mary Jane, then turn her down politely; no need to be rude."

Crimp grimaced and stood up, puffing out his chest to seem bigger than he was. "I don't need any fuckin' charity."

James stood too and faced him, Jack backing off for a second to watch. "Well then refuse your captain, it is not my charity." Crimp glanced down at Jack whose face was carefully blank. Then he returned his gaze to James.

"Is this some kind o' honour? Is this some way o' provin' yer better 'n me? Because you, James, are a terrible pirate, and in no way else-wise better than me."

James clasped his hands behind his back and his shoulders were straight, he stood like a proper gentleman, though he didn't seem to notice that everyone else noticed. "Crimp, I am not better than you, but neither are you better than me. We saw that I am the better swordsman by the mark on your brow, and that you are a better pirate for fighting dirty and pissing me off whenever you have the chance. This is not about honour, I don't give a shit about honour. What I care about is not getting my throat slit while I am sleeping, and you are the single-most person I should fear in that respect." Crimp gazed warily at James who was silent to let that all sink in for a moment. "Consider this, Mr. Crimp, to be a truce." He held out his hand and the man regarded it for a moment, seemingly with distaste. Then, to the surprise of all in the room, most of all to Jack, Crimp laughed and his face glowed with delight. He slapped James' hand and shook it fiercely before pulling the man in to clasp his arm around his shoulder.

"Yer not so bad, James. Ye know when t' quit. I'm afraid t' say I like ye," he pulled back then and pointed a finger at his face, close enough that James' eyes crossed trying to see it, "but don't think this mean's we're pals now. But ye 'ave yer truce, mate."

James smiled, and Crimp released his hold on the man, turning to face the pretty Mary Jane. The girl touched his arm, and tittered and squealed as he led her out of the room.

James sat down and went back to his little spot in the corner. Jack was looking at him like he had just parted the ocean or walked on water, but James tried not to notice for a moment. Not until Jack neglected his drink for a full few minutes did he face his captain. "What, Jack?"

Jack closed his mouth abruptly and James heard a clap of his teeth striking each other in the movement. His eyes were still wide and James raised his eyebrows, shaking his head to emphasize that he was still waiting for an answer.

"Well, ye just made as close t' friends wit' Crimp as anyone e'er has. 'E's a right mean bastard t' anyone 'e doesn't respect. There were bets on who'd get killed first, you or 'im."

"I offered him a truce, Jack, I have no desire to get killed."

"Yes, but James, it was like a hundred t' one odds against!"

"I'm not much for statistics, ninety percent of them are made up on the spot." Jack chortled exasperatedly for a moment before swinging back his drink and going back to his thoughts.

James stood up. "I'll get us some more drinks," he said.

Jack stood, "I'll come wit' ye."

James laughed, "Jack, I am hardly going to be accosted in plain view of everyone."

Jack winked at him, "Don't want one o' these pretty faces t' steal off wit' ye to a room upstairs." James laughed and shrugged, as though telling Jack to do what he wanted, though he knew the man would anyway, with or without James' blessing.

James stood by watching as Jack asked the barkeep for two more pints and then Jack faced him with a smile.

"I thought I was going to get the drinks, and you were going to stand and watch me."

Jack smiled and leaned back as though parading himself before James, "Thought a little eye candy would do ye some good, aye?" Jack's eyes trailed past James to the door behind them, and his face paled visibly as his smile faded completely, leaving his mouth open in a frown and his eyes looking tired. James moved to turn and look at what Jack was distressed about, but Jack's hand was on his arm.

"What is it?" Jack didn't respond at once, "Jack?"

The pirate's face turned up that extra inch to meet James' eye, his hands went onto James' shoulders and guided him backward to the shadows at the wall. "Would ye mind goin' upstairs for a bit, love?"

"Jack, what? We just ordered drinks."

"I'll bring it up to you."

"Jack, what is going on?" He moved to turn and Jack stopped him, catching his face in his hands.

"Jamie, please."

James was almost swayed by the plea in the pirate's voice, but he shook his head at length, "What is going on, Jack?"

Jack usually prided himself on being a quick thinker. He was usually able to come up with a story in a stitch, but he was at a loss for words, he just needed to get James away, the desperateness harmed what little thinking process he already had.

He opened his mouth and then peeked behind James' shoulder only to hide his face again. "There is an enemy here, love."

"I won't let you face your enemies alone, you should know that, I am your second."

Jack swallowed, "Not mine, love, yours."

James was silent for a moment. "What do you mean, mine? My... my enemies?" His voice was a little high pitched with worry. "Jack, what is going on?"

Jack sighed, "James, listen, imagine... imagine you're a man," he grinned that Sparrow-esque grin of his, "hypothetically of course," James smiled wryly, but Jack was serious again, "you are a man who loved someone very much. Then someone else who you deem of lesser quality than yourself comes along and snatches that someone from your arms, and those two someones fall in love. If you saw the man who took your love from you again—"

"I would kill the man..." Jack had attempted to keep speaking but when James said he would kill, Jack trailed off, "... who took you from me, Jack. I would kill them."

Jack was speechless. For as long as he could remember, he was the one making others speechless, he was the one that was making promises and doing things that would render another without coherent words or thoughts and here he was, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, getting choked up and speechless because another man would die for him.

"I will go upstairs if you promise that nothing untoward will happen to you."

Jack smiled and kissed his Jamie, his love. "I promise, love."

James walked away from Jack toward the stairs and he heard someone approach his lover, "Jack, what are you doing here?"

"It's Tortuga, mate, what d'ye think I'm doin' 'ere? What are you doin' 'ere is the question?"

James stood by the stairs about to go up when someone bumped into him, and he turned to face them.

"James! Oh my God!" The woman put her hands to her lips, then reached out to touch him.

James took a step back, feeling faint suddenly. He shook his head and touched his temple; everything was double. He looked back up at the girl and she was talking to him, she was touching him. Did he know her? He couldn't remember her. Something was familiar.

"Elizabeth?" He asked, and she looked confused.

"Yes James, is... is something wrong. You don't look well. James?" Her voice sounded tinny like he was listening through a mug made of metal or something. There were two of her, still. He tried to steady himself on the railing but was unsuccessful.

Before James crashed to the ground, another word escaped his lips, more of a whisper than the cry he had intended, "Jack!"

Chapter Eight: Wake and know the truth

Will dragged Jack out to the corridor just outside the room he and Elizabeth had stashed James. He glared at the pirate suspiciously. "What, Jack, is going on?"

"Nothing! Nothing, honest! I just... found 'im."

Will raised an eyebrow. "You found him."

"Yes! Yes! On th' island th' Pearl was closest to when we needed t' weigh anchor on 'ccount o' th' storm."

"I see." Jack nodded, looking far too anxious for Will to actually believe him. "Well what is wrong with him?"

"Oh... he... he's fine, really. Jus'... jus' a little knock on th' head is all."

"Jack, will you stop playing games? Everyone in Port Royal thinks he is dead!"

Jack sighed and pressed his hands together as though praying, but Will suspected it was just another of Jack's eccentricities. "If ye never believe me 'gain, young mister Turner, believe me now. I am not playing games with you."

Will closed his mouth, considering. "Something strange is going on here," he said at length, "and you are going to tell me, Jack, what it is."

* * *

Elizabeth was sitting next to James in the room, writing. The blinds were drawn so the light of the upcoming sun would not bother James as he slumbered, if passing out dead could be called falling asleep. Jack and Will had gone elsewhere to talk and left Elizabeth, of course, to tend to the sick.

She sighed. If any one of them had any medical know-how, it would be Jack, she assumed. She was least likely to know how to tend a sick man. Oh well, she dipped the quill into the ink again and wrote more furiously in her journal.

"Jack..."

Elizabeth's head rose from her work and looked at the bed. James was moving a little, clearly not awake, but he was mumbling. She placed her quill in the holder and stood to move closer to the man that might have been her husband, had circumstances been a little different.

"...Not your fault, Jack.... Please." She furrowed her brow, and then opened her mouth tentatively.

"Please what?" He didn't seem to hear her, she moved her mouth closer to his ear and whispered again. "Please what?"

James groaned and shifted a little. "Please Jack... fuck me."

Elizabeth jumped back from the bed, hands to her mouth, with a little squeal of surprise. The door opened simultaneously, and in stepped her husband and the pirate. Elizabeth wasted no time striding over to Jack and slapping him soundly across the face.

"Not sure I deserved that." He worked his jaw a little as though making sure she didn't knock it out of location.

"You!" She looked back at James and lowered her voice. "You scoundrel! You are a terrible, terrible man! What have you done to poor James?"

Jack was staring at her as if she had lost her head, and Will did not seem to understand either. "Elizabeth, what...?"

She pursed her lips and leaned forward as though telling them a secret. "I was writing when he started to talk in his sleep. He said—" She paused and lost her focus for a moment before lowering her voice and whispering, "He asked Jack to... please..." she lowered her voice farther, "fuck him."

Jack stood a little straighter and smiled, seemingly proud, but upon seeing the disapproving glances of his comrades, scandalized looks from each, his glee fell a few notches. "Wha'? Ye think I would 'ave done it if 'e 'adn't asked me to?"

Elizabeth's mouth fell open. "He asked you to?"

"All right, I think it is time I have a moment with my wife, Captain Sparrow. You... stay here." Will led Elizabeth out of the room.

"Jack...."

Jack's gaze was drawn to the lips that produced the sound. He rushed to the side of the bed. James' eyes were open. He smiled, "Jamie, love. How are ye feelin'?"

"Like I got hit in the head with a ton of bricks." Jack pulled the chair over beside the bed, and James propped himself up with a pillow. "What the hell happened?"

Jack donned concerned eyes, "Well what d' you remember?"

His eyes narrowed to slits as he tried to reach back in his mind for the information. "I'm not sure. I remember a woman. Light hair, lovely skin, and I remember you telling me to go to the room."

Jack nodded. Did he remember anything else? It felt like his heart was stopped, waiting for the answer to his question.

"I remember... Elizabeth." James' eyes lost their focus. He looked a bit dizzy. After a moment his gaze centred on Jack. "Oh... Jack."

The door opened, and they were both momentarily distracted as the Turner couple returned. James locked gazes with the former love of his life and her future husband for a moment each, respectively. Then he returned his attention to the pirate.

"James?" Elizabeth took a step toward the man, but Will's hand on her arm stopped her.

"James, I—"

"Don't." His eyes clouded with unshed tears, and he could not look at Jack. Jack's mouth opened again, but he obeyed. When he spoke again, his voice shook, "Would you please...."

Jack stood. "I'm sorry." He pushed past Elizabeth and Will on his way out the door.

* * *

Lies. I can't believe it was all lies. Well of course, I can believe it, I know it to be true, after all, but... I just don't understand.

What would provoke someone to do that? What would provoke a man to take a man to his bed, to rein him in under false pretences, and lie to him, repeatedly? Did he ever love me? Did I him? It's hard to think I might have. It's hard to believe that he meant so much to me on that ship, on that island. Can it hurt any more than it does?

Even her rejection did not amount to this shame, this heartache. But then, her love never amounted to so much contentment, so much happiness, or so much pleasure.

I miss him. It's only been a day since we sailed out for Port Royal, a day since I left him with no words on that island, unable to follow, ship listing to the scabbards, without a crew, to drown his sorrows in rum, or not. God, I don't even know if he cares. I don't even know if he liked me.

Battle Strategy Technician indeed. Did he want me to lead him into all the Ports in the Caribbean? Did he expect me to divulge secrets I couldn't remember? Or did he care about me somehow? Did he keep me on, when I was injured, because he felt something? Perhaps in the middle of the night when he drank himself stupid, perhaps that was his own repentance. Perhaps he felt bad for hiding it from me. It certainly makes sense now. His actions certainly add up to that, but it's possible, always possible, that there was something else.

No matter, we shall be home in a mere few days' time, I will take some time off and then return to work as scheduled. Hopefully, in time I can manage to forget. It would be no use to pursue such fancies. Not only is it illegal, it is ridiculous. A pirate and a naval man cannot have a house, a life, or a family together.

Besides, a sailor's only ever love is the sea.

* * *

Elizabeth visited him the first day they set out, but he would not speak to her. Will loaned him some clothes that didn't exactly fit. They were too tight around the legs and too loose around the shoulders. He wore them. He brushed his hair, he slept, he ate, but he wouldn't speak. He would have no words with Will, with Elizabeth, or even the men with them to crew the vessel. He remained in the cabin, pacing, looking out the window, sitting in the chair, but despite their cautious words, their worried glances, he would not respond.

Elizabeth had spent her brief moments with Will, letting him explain to her how it meant no different for two men to be in love than a man and a woman before the whole ordeal. She was about to apologize when she returned and saw James awake. She could feel his heart break for him when he saw her face. She learned enough from her husband to know that James had lost his identity on this trip. She knew enough to know that Jack had stolen it from him, and then had his heart stolen in the process. She did not know, could not know, what James' heart dictated to him, but it was clear to anyone who cared to see, anyone who knew, that it belonged to Jack now.

She went to his room and spoke to him, offered him tea, which he ignored until she was gone, she tried to get him to open up to her.

"I don't think that it was wrong or bad to be with him. I think that if you love someone, and I think you really must love him, James, you need to do everything you can to make things work with that person. I understand that he did something... rather terrible, to hurt you. He betrayed your trust, but from what he said to Will, what Will told me, Jack feels terrible, he has known for a long time that this day would come, that someday you would remember or he would have to tell you, and he has been trying to be as honest as possible, but... it was just hard for him. James, if you would talk to him, if you wanted, we could turn around and just... we could go back." He had said nothing to her. He didn't indicate that he wanted to see Jack again, nor had he made any mention of not wanting to see him either. She thought it best to leave him alone.

The following day she returned to try again. She asked him to tell her what had happened in his own words. She thought she might be able to help. "You love him, James, don't you? You wouldn't be... physically intimate with another person unless you loved them." She believed he was not one of those men who would take weekly trips to the brothel instead of returning home to their wife or lover. "Know that I am here to speak to you, James. If you need anything, I'll be around."

* * *

Elizabeth's visits, though reassuring, were annoying and frustrating, but he would not tell her to leave, he would not give her the information she wanted, so he was stuck with her. She appeared two days in a row, unsuccessful in her goading, and then sent her husband-to-be in.

"Look, you are bothering my wife with your silence. I know what is going on and I am not going to tell you that you don't have a right to be angry or upset, because you do. Jack was an arsehole, but that is what Jack is like. He never lied about who he was, he never played with your head in that respect, and that is what I want to talk to you about."

He sat down and James watched him, arms crossed and standing in the corner. "Jack is sneaky and devious, he forms ridiculous plans that cannot possibly work and pulls them off by confusing everyone with the sheer ridiculousness. Jack saw an opportunity and he took it. He thought you could provide an inside eye to the crew. He thought that you would be, first of all, off duty, therefore not searching for him. This would allow him free reign of the waters. Secondly, you would provide him with a new crewmember to replace one lost in the storm. Finally, you have a good head for strategy, James. We both know that is what got you to commodore so quickly. So he enlisted you, he tricked you, and he did it because it would be of greatest profit to him.

"When he wanted the Pearl back, I thought he was helping me because he owed me, all he wanted was revenge and a ship. He would have traded my life for it, if it came down to that, at first. As time moved on, though, he did risk his own life for mine. He did keep his part of the bargain because he has a conscience. He knows right from wrong, though sometimes it is cloudy for him. He did not think that he would feel guilty about tricking you. He did not think, before hand, that he would fall in love with you, but James, that is what he did.

"Jack loves you, James, and you know he is sorry. He told me how he felt. He told me how many nights he spent on his arse, drunk, and weeping because he didn't want to hurt you, but he didn't think that he was strong enough to tell you the truth. He knew that he would lose you when you found out. He knew that would be the end and Jack, as strong and good as he may be, he was not strong enough to let you go."

James was silent. He knew all of this, he did. He knew that Jack loved him, he knew he loved that bloody pirate back, too, but it was one thing to know the truth, and another to admit to it. As soon as he admitted that he knew that Jack felt bad, as soon as he admitted to loving him, to knowing Jack loved him in return, he could stop being mad, and James was too hurt for that yet.

"The point, Will, is that he stole my identity, he stole who I was and he tricked me into laying with him. He tricked me into a sin that could not only get me fired, but could get me killed. He is a sinful, degenerate, foul pirate, and I would not for all the gold in the world or the honour of Britain, return to his side. You can tell your wife, and tell your pirate, that if I ever see him in British waters again I will not hesitate to cut off his head with my own sword or put a bullet through his heart." Perhaps then he would know how it felt for it to be broken by the one you love."

Chapter Nine: Sealed with Lies

Port Royal loomed too close. They would be there in half a day, probably less. James sat in his cabin, face in his hands. He didn't want to get up and face them. He didn't want to walk down the gangplank and onto the docks only to have his officers crowd him, only to be bombarded with questions. What would he tell them? He could not admit to helping on a pirate crew. At least Jack had not made him sign the articles, else he could only, in good conscience, turn himself in for the next day's hanging.

James peered out the window. His stomach growled but he ignored it. Elizabeth had brought him something, but he didn't feel like eating. He felt like if he did he would be sick. He didn't know what he wanted. He only knew he didn't want this. He didn't want to be stuck in a small space on his way back to his job and his life. He didn't want to be stuck in the boundaries of rules, obligations, duty and honour. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to just let this overwhelming sadness engulf him and drag him into the depths of depression. He wanted to hide in a room or sink to the bottom of the ocean and stay there indefinitely.

But that was not the life of a commodore of the British Royal Navy.

A knock sounded on his door but he did not answer, which was fine because they simply opened it and entered without instruction to do so anyway.

"James? We shall arrive in a few hours. What would you like us to tell the governor?" James didn't answer, but because he was thinking. "James, you must speak. You cannot just remain mute and expect everything to go away or get better by themselves. You must work at gaining peace."

James had enough. He stood. "Mister Turner. I am not a young man, by any means. My father and mother have long since learned that they could not lecture me or order me into submission and you have less than one tenth their authority over me, which was not much by any means. I would appreciate you cease your incessant banter and allow me to think of a plausible excuse and reason for my short term disappearance."

"Perhaps we should tell them the truth." Clearly his reprimand had little effect on the young man.

"By the powers of God, no!" He tried to loosen his shoulders, tense as they were. "If we tell them I lost my memory and washed up on a beach somewhere, yes that is appropriate. We will not inform them that I spent time in the company of pirates, that those pirates were the crew of the Black Pearl, or that I had any relation at all with Captain Sparrow. We will simply state that a kindly fisherman gave me passage to Tortuga where I was on the mend until you arrived, found me and helped me regain my memory for the journey home."

"Are you suggesting we lie to your men, and the governor?"

James glared at William. "Do you understand what it means to be a sodomite and a commodore of the British Navy? Do you understand how that could implicate me? Relations with another man are cause for the death penalty. Even if they could not prove that I slept with him, my reputation would be ruined, I would surely lose my job and the respect of any or all of my men. The excuse that I was not myself, that I hit my head, it will not be accepted in any court because how are we to prove that, exactly?"

Will was thoroughly chastised. He nodded his head. "Of course, Commodore. Not a word from myself or Miss Swann, I assure you. You washed onto an island without memory of your own identity and were transported to Tortuga, the nearest island, where we docked and found you."

"Correct. Ensure that Miss Swann understands the situation as well, will you?"

"Will you not speak to her?"

James blinked, hesitated and then twitched, turning to hide it, though unsuccessfully, from William. "Miss Swann, though she means well, thinks with only her heart. She would do naught but urge me back into the hands of that sinful, depraved, debauching, unlawful pirate. She is likely convinced that Jack is good and kind, that he would sweep me off my feet and make everything right as rain. She has no concept or understanding of law or politics. She has been kept safely out of sight of the harpies of Port Royal, her slight misdemeanours being brushed off as youthful impertinence. She has no concept of what this might do to my reputation. She will have no useful advice for me."

"I think, Commodore, that you are perhaps a little quick to judge her. If you would talk to her, rather than have her talk to you, you might find an understanding friend. She listens better than she gives advice and she knows it. She only wants to help."

James' mouth grew tight and he stared at Will for a moment before turning his head in clear dismissal. "Thank you for your counsel, Mister Turner, but I believe I will remain in solitude a little longer."

Will ground his teeth with a curt nod and closed the door behind him as he left. James knew he was being rude and perhaps cruel not to let Miss Swann put her two cents in, but James was not feeling up to company, or advice, or anything. He just wanted to be left alone.

* * *

Jack slugged back the rest of his ale and grimaced. He'd thought it was rum. The last gulp he'd had, he had made the same face as he had thought the same thing. It was hard to remember. He didn't even know how many of these awful things he had drank through the evening... the night... and was that sun coming up over the horizon? Jack shrugged and stood up, or rather, stumbled to the ground and then crawled across the floor far enough for two of the barmaids to help him stand and start to drag him upstairs to his room.

His room, their room. This room was supposed to be theirs, the one he shared with him. Now it was his alone, and not even the barmaids would stick around for a bit of cheer-Jack-up fun. He slid from the bed to the floor and slumped over. Aside from himself, the room was empty. It felt like it would just echo at him if he screamed or wept, or any other number of things he felt like doing.

Hours ago he might have had the brilliant idea to sail to Port Royal and try to make a formal apology to the man. He might have commandeered a ship, as he had done before with Anamaria's vessel, and taken it to Port Royal. He might have insisted an audience with James, confessed his apology, even if it meant him getting thrown in gaol and possibly hanged. Now he wondered if it was worth it.

Jack fell back on the floor, he rolled to his side, and then proceeded to vomit all the ale he had imbibed that evening.

* * *

"We thought you were gone, sir! We thought we had lost you!"

"Are you all right? What happened?"

"Can I get you anything?"

"Someone fetch the governor!"

James tried to wave everyone off. He let Will do the talking. He tried to simply make it to the carriage without incident. Elizabeth came with him and he helped her inside without saying a word to any of his men. Will followed shortly after and they rode in silence to the Governor's mansion.

"James Norrington! You don't know how happy I am to see that you are alive and well!"

James smiled at the man. "Glad to oblige, sir." He said softly. Clearly the governor didn't hear because he did not comment.

"Surely you must be tired! Exhausted even! You must go home and take some rest. I will have Elizabeth and Mister Turner tell me all about it."

"Thank you, Governor Swann. Surely you would not mind if I took a few days off to recover."

"Are you injured?" The man had no concept of tact or what it meant to have been missing at sea.

"Yes," he answered, rather than explain that he was physically an emotionally exhausted, hand going automatically to his stomach. "I was wounded by the rocks. I had a surgeon look after me while I was in Tortuga, thankfully. I should be mended enough to return to duty... soon."

Elizabeth cut in before her father could say more. "I am sure father would not decline your wish for a good week off or so, James. Take your time to recover. You've been through quite an ordeal."

* * *

"Wake up! Wake up ye scurvy blackguard!" Something tapped his cheek and he stirred, mumbling words that were not necessarily English. "Jack! Open yer eyes!"

Jack did so, slowly, eyes coming into focus on dim light that still hurt his eyes and a familiar face, or two rather. He moved to sit up and the one with the sideburns helped him. The other one sat on her knees and stared him in the eye.

"I think 'e's still drunk."

"I'm no' drunk!" Jack's voice sounded very loud in his own head and he realized, now sitting, that the world spinning was a good indication that he was either still inebriated, or very sick. "No' that drunk." He corrected.

"Let's get him on the bed." Jack felt himself suddenly lifted and set on the still somewhat neat sheets of the bed on the upper floor of the tavern. He lay right back down, dropping his head on the pillow, but then he groaned as the room spun even more chaotically than before.

"Jack, wha' 'appened?" He recognised the man now as Gibbs. He groaned and rolled onto his side.

"Badness, terrible badness of the bad. Tha's wha' 'appened."

"I saw James leave with tha' Miss Swann and the Turner boy last night," Anamaria offered to Gibbs. She looked at Jack who closed his eyes. "That 'ave somethin' t' do with it?"

"Maybe."

"Jack. I told ye it were a bad idea!" Anamaria cried.

"Woman fer God's sake would ye shut yer bleedin' trap?" She glowered at him. "Yes, ye said, 'I don' know, Jack, I don' know 'f 'e'll be as much use as bother.' I told ye that 'ed be fine. I was wrong."

"Well wha' 'appened?" Gibbs asked stupidly.

"The blighter took one look at 'is former fiancé Miss Swann-to-be-Turner an' e'erything came rushin' back, didn' 'e? 'E found out ye were playin' 'im like a ukulele an' 'e left with them first moment 'e could, not lookin' back." Her tone was scolding, as though she was reprimanding Jack, but her eyes were soft and sympathetic.

"Yes." Jack's voice was weak. His whole body was limp. He looked like he would never find the energy to rise from the bed again.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" He asked.

"Well, what 're ye goin' t' do, man?" She asked incredulously.

"It isn't as though I can jus' go after th' bloke, can I? 'E wants nothin' t' do wit' Captain Jack."

Gibbs looked like he was watching a bar room brawl without knowing how it all started.

"Has that ever stopped ye before?"

Jack sat up straight, ignoring the urge to vomit and the spinning in his head. "It's stoppin' me now! D'ye understand? I love th' bastard and 'e hates me! Not sure 'e wouldn't kill me if I went to 'im now! I can't jus' go ask 'im t' forgive me fer trickin' 'im int' me bed, ont' me crew! I can't jus' go an' ask 'im t' take me back!"

Jack's head snapped back at the force of her palm connecting with his face. "You listen t' me, Jack, you listen good. My mama would be disappointed t' see th' cowardly sheep ye've turned into. She'd curse ye with stupidity but she'd be doin' ye a boon. Now I ain't never seen a man fall in love afore, I ain't never seen love, not but what ye and th' Commodore 'ad. Ye're not a coward, Jack. Yer not a fool! Ye can't jus' sit idle while 'e escapes back to 'is life of boredom an' bein' ashamed of 'is blatant homosexuality!"

"What would you 'ave me do?" He sounded tired, defeated and Ana sighed, sitting down on the bed with him.

"I would 'ave ye win 'im back, Jack. As I said before, ye've been in need of a good bed mate for far too long."

* * *

James closed the door to his bedchambers. It was late, he was tired and he was sick of all the visitors. For anyone else coming to call, he was in bed. It had only been two days since he had returned with Will and Elizabeth and he had gotten neither rest nor a break from all of his worried friends. He was not sure he cared anymore if they thought he was going mad from his near death experience. He didn't want to see anyone else right now.

He lay down on his bed and let out a most pitiful sigh of discontentment. It had been days since he was allowed to admit to himself what had happened. It had been days since he could really remember what it felt like to be free, to be loved. It felt like he had been suffering forever since that horrible night when it all came tearing back into his head like a whirlwind, blinding him and beating him bloody and stupid. All he could see was the treachery and deceit. James could not concentrate on the love.

Now that he was back in Port Royal, it was improbable, if not impossible, that he would find someone suitable for him, someone who could erase the pain, someone who he could love in Jack's place. In fact, he didn't want that. All he wanted was to forget again. He wanted to forget this place and these people. He wanted to forget the pain and the trickery. He just wanted to be back on the Black Pearl. He wanted to be in the arms of the only man that ever made him feel free and complete, the only person who could cure everything that ached in his heart with just a thought.

James missed the smell of Jack. He missed the feeling of Jack pressed against him in the morning. He missed the taste of his lips, rum and cinnamon. He missed how those kisses made his skin melt off and his blood boil. He missed how when Jack touched him with just one finger, he felt like he would die if he didn't have more. He missed his smell. He missed his feel. He missed his taste and the way he held James at night.

James sighed heavily, feeling like maybe he could expel the heartache from him in the action. He didn't succeed. Instead, he closed his eyes and remembered the last time he saw Jack look at him in such a way. He remembered the way his eyes burned and his lips curled into that grin that made James heart stop and his cock leap.

It did so again. James parted his lips and let a sigh pass through them. He wished he could feel Jack's lips now, the way he did the other day. He wished he could feel the slide of those gold teeth on his tongue, not cold because Jack's body temperature was so hot. He wished he could feel Jack's tongue on his.

James sat up. It was not right. It was improper. It was a sin and it was immoral and it was depraved... but God, he wanted it. He stood and paced his room. He kicked his shoes off and pushed them aside, under the table.

He glanced at the clothes on the table. He walked over to them and picked up the shirt. It didn't smell like James Norrington. It smelled like salt and smoke and rum. It smelled like Jack. James sat on the chair and held the article to his face breathing in deeply. It smelled wonderful. It smelled like Jack smelled when they were on the Pearl, in the captain's cabin all alone. Jack would tease him, take the shirt off slowly so James could only beg for him to touch his skin, to slide his lithe fingers under the fabric. Jack would just keep unbuttoning, with his teeth, or one hand, making it more difficult. He would even go so far as to nuzzle at his crotch to prolong the wait. At the feel of his hot breath seeping through the material, James would groan like he was now.

He rested his head on the chair back and clutched the shirt like a lifeline. He undid his pants and slid his hand into the waist. His hand didn't feel enough like Jack's. His fingers were longer; Jack's were rougher. He had been working the ship longer than James. James had taken a cushy desk job after a while and hadn't had the ropes in his hands in months before the Pearl. He tried to imagine anyway.

He tried to remember what Jack's thumb felt like when it circled the head of his cock. What did it feel like when his fingers reached out to stroke his balls briefly as his hand neared the base of James' erection? Jack did something lovely by pinching the skin under the head of his prick, James tried it and it brought forth the drops of precum and the moan he remembered, but it was not the same.

He ignored the nostalgia and the tears forming in his eyes, and he started to stroke hard. He kept it rough and fast, so he wouldn't have to remember that Jack's hand was never this sloppy. It was never this imprecise. He cupped his balls with his other hand, picturing Jack's face, picturing what Jack looked like when James stroked him to completion. Jack would stop a little bit, overcome by feeling and sensation from James' ministrations. He would groan and push into James' hand while James kept up the rhythm. Then he would remember and pump the naval man harder than before, making James convulse and gasp. James was always the one to cum first, if just for seeing the look on Jack's face before he spilled in James' hand.

James caught the semen in his hand as it spurted out of him. He panted and groaned as his cock continued to twitch and subside. He did not feel any better, though. He wiped his hands off on a towel and proceeded to remove the remainder of his clothing and crawl into the uncomfortable, unfamiliar bed and fall asleep with tears in his eyes.

Chapter Ten: Back to You

James walked atop the battlements. He stared out at the sea, dark and dismal as it may seem even on such a beautiful and cloudless day. He did not wear a smile; not even so much as he used to. He was slack with his men, and they were beginning to notice. He would only chastise one of the lieutenants and have them pass on the words that he would not put up with jobs done half as well as he was used to. They didn't listen. He felt even more alone now than he had before he left on that ridiculous trip.

James was avoiding his office, but he knew it was no good. He needed to get the paperwork done. He needed to file a report on his own absence. He needed to go over other reports about pirates, shipping, trading, politics and orders from England. He did not want to do any of those things, but that did not mean that he didn't have to. James wanted to cling to the last precious moments he had out in the fresh air, as free as he would ever get again, before stuffing himself in a small office, condemned to unhappiness for the rest of his days.

All right, James may have been a little dramatic there, but he didn't think he had no reason. Of course, he could come out to the fort whenever he felt he needed a break from the work. No one would question him; he was the commodore, after all. Though a trip out to the fort was nothing in comparison to freedom on the ocean, no cares, no worries, nothing that needed to be done but follow his captain's orders. How he missed those things.

James sighed and took one last longing look at the ocean before turning to head to his office. He closed the door and sat down at the desk. He gathered the papers, separated into piles based on urgency, and put the orders in front of him.

Quite suddenly, a loud noise roused James from his reading and he jumped up. Someone was ringing the bell, sounding the alarm. What was going on here? He went to the window and someone called to him.

"Commodore! A pirate ship's been spotted in the bay!"

He nodded, saying he would be right down. He could not see the water from there, but he would wager that the ship was not, in fact, the Pearl. He put his cap on and clipped his sword around him, heading for the door.

The door flew in on him and he fell backwards, caught off guard. He stumbled back into the desk as someone else came through the door and slammed it, locking it behind him and even going so far as to stick the chair up under it so one would have a hard time getting through it by force, too.

James was shocked to see a pirate, and not just any pirate, one with kohl and dreadlocks, dirt all over him and a gash on his left cheek. "Jack!"

James went dumb with shock. He didn't move but to let his mouth fall open when Jack moved to level the gun in his hand at James' head.

"Jack?" He finally repeated, questioningly.

"James, I am here to 'ave you listen t' me. I came in with m' crew for a diversion. I was caught up in a few fights just finding where ye were. I went t' yer house first, then came here. Me crew is not 'ere t' 'arm anyone, but t' give me time t' say wha' I 'ave t' say."

James stood straight, wiped the expression from his face, and said, "Fine. Continue."

Jack paused and shook with his uneasy breath. Then he began. "I fucked it up. I fucked everything up an' I ne'er meant t'. I though' I would be all right, everythin' would be all right, if I could jus' keep ye on me crew, out of me 'air, and allow me certain tidbits of information. I weren't in th' navy long enough t' memorize strategy, thought ye'd be useful.

"So I lied. Well, actually, it was ye who convinced me t' do so. If ye remember, ye were the one as thought we were an item. You were the one who initiated th' whole thing. I jus' followed along. A happy Commodore of His Majesty's Service is a non-murderous Commodore, savvy. I played along.

"Then th' playin' became more serious, the situation became less funny, and suddenly, the joke was on ol' Jack.

"I fell in love with ye, James. I fell in love an' I couldn't bear t' tell ye the truth because it meant ye'd leave. I couldn't bear t' lose ye. So I took th' coward's way out. I kept lyin', kept wishin' and hopin' fer jus' one more day wit' ye. Then that one more day... it didn't come.

"I thought maybe I could bear bein' without ye, maybe I can, but I couldn't bear ye not knowin' that I only ever cared about ye. I only ever loved ye and wanted t' be selfish and keep all that as long as I could."

Jack lowered the gun. "So now ye know. Ye know that I screwed up, ye know why, and ye know I am sorry. I still love you, James. In fact," Jack cocked the gun again and held it to his temple. "In fact, if ye can tell me right now that you never want t' see me again, I'll save yer little soldiers th' trouble an' see to it right here." His voice went soft and tears fell from Jack's eyes. He did not blink. He stared into Norrington, into James, pleading with him to just say something, say anything. James swallowed. Jack's finger tightened on the trigger. "Jus' say th' word, love."

The silence lengthened, and James found that he was shaking. Actually, James found that the shaking was coming from the crying. Tears were falling from his eyes and his nose was running. It was quite unattractive for a commodore, but he didn't care. He didn't care because Jack loved him, James loved him in return, and if he didn't fucking say something, the man was going to blow his brains out all over James' office.

"If... if you pull that trigger... I will follow you, or go mad trying." Jack let loose the breath he was holding in as a gasp. He shook gently for a second, then bowed his head and dropped the pistol to the floor. James retrieved it and unloaded it in enough time for Jack to sink to the floor. He set it on the desk and followed the pirate captain.

"Jack," he said, and the pirate looked up, kohl running in streaks down his face. "Jack, it hurt so much to leave you there. It felt like you tore my heart from my chest. Even though you didn't mean to, I couldn't convince it to stop hurting. I thought that I would have to try and make due, again, with what I had. I thought I had to go back to my life and I didn't think I could do it. It's just nothing, nothing without you."

"I'm sorry, Jamie, I am so sorry."

Norrington kissed the man just then. He held the pirate's face so he couldn't escape and attacked him with lips and teeth and tongue. Jack returned the kiss with the same enthusiasm. However, it couldn't last long. There was a sudden banging on the door and their attention needed to be elsewhere.

"You cannot stay here, Jack. You will be hung for sure."

"I'm not about t' leave ye 'ere, James."

"Jack, my place is in Port Royal. As fun as all the prancing around doing nothing all day is interesting for a while, I have a life here. I have a career, friends. I can't just...."

"I know. I'll... come visit!" Jack sounded like he'd just had a brilliant idea. "Yea! I'll come every few months, write you letters!"

The banging sounded again. "That's all well and good, Jack, but you can't do that if you're caught up by my men." He looked around. "If you go out the window you can climb down the tree and make it to the fort. You can find your way out from there, for sure."

Jack nodded, considering. "True, but," he pulled the gun down off the desk with a smirk, holding it to James' head. "My plan is infinitely better."

* * *

"The commodore is in trouble!"

"Someone get the Captain!"

"Try to break down the door!"

The door suddenly swung open inward and there stood James, hands tied behind his back with a gun to his head. His teeth were grit together in a convincing mixture of fear and anger.

"You will not get away with this, Sparrow!" He growled and struggled, but Jack pushed the barrel to his head tighter than before.

"Back, ye bunch o' ice cream sundaes! Back before I blow th' brains out o' yer fancy man here." They looked at James for clarification, but Jack cocked the gun.

James' eyes widened. "Do as he says!" He called.

Jack grinned, though James was not witness to the sparkle of excitement in his eye. "Aye, exactly as I say. I'd like t' be escorted back t' me ship, please. No games, boys."

James nodded, tight-lipped and frowning. Immediately the men scurried to escort Jack to the dock. When they arrived, already a boat was being readied. Jack backed into it and pulled James in after so that he fell to the floor. He pointed it between his eyes as he lay on his back looking up at the pirate. "Pick up the oars and start rowing."

When they were far enough away from the docks for the navy men to see, Jack dropped the weapon and nuzzled the back of James' neck.

"However am I to concentrate on rowing when you are doing that?"

"Why not? You're my hostage, I can do t' ye whate'er I like."

"Except that your pistol is without ammunition and is, thus, no threat."

"Oh come on, Jamie, love. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Back on that island. How soon will you return?"

"Well how about tonight?"

"Jack, are you mad?" He thought about the question. "Never mind," he said. "Regardless, you can't come back tonight; they will be scouring the town for anymore pirates."

"Bet you a doubloon they won't think t' look in a commodore's bedchambers."

* * *