Want

*~ Disclaimer ~* I do not own any of the characters, language, plots, or locations from Pirates of the Caribbean. Disney holds all rights to Pirates of the Caribbean and this story is only created for pleasure, not profit.

Author’s Note: I owe my heart and soul to the wonderful Captain Jack Sparrow that is the Ever-Intriguing-Wildly-Gesturing-Drunken-Pirate-God! And I owe my hatred and disgust to one Elizabeth Swann who dared to contemplate taking him for her own!! That of course, means war! To spite her and entertain myself, I’ll pair dear ole Jack with the naïve, sweet Will Turner. Vengeance is so sweet. *wild cackling ensues* Enjoy. (pre-Pirates II)


What I Want

Jack frowned at the helm of the Pearl as he contemplated his compass. It had been rather tetchy with him lately. He would start off in one direction, confident and eager to go after more treasure, and the quirky needle would suddenly about-face and send him off in another direction. Jack noticed that it always moved off to the same direction, but was so irritated that it was moving at all that it took some time to realize what the damn thing was pointing to. The Pearl rolled soothingly beneath his feet in an attempt to calm him and Jack merely grunted and leaned on the wheel to gaze off into the distance.

“Captain.” Jack didn’t move an inch.

“Captain.” A slight twitch at the eye.

“Captain!” Finally, Jack turned towards Gibbs with mild irritation.

“Aye?” he almost growled. Gibbs backed off a bit, looking rather uncomfortable as he shifted to find a position near the stairs, closest to escape.

“The crew were wonderin’, Captain… what be our destination?”

Jack’s eyes flew over the deck, marking each and every crewman before sliding his gaze back to Gibbs, “Haven’t I told yeh that we’re dropping in at Tortuga?”

Gibbs looked as though he didn’t want to be in his own skin at the moment, but he choked out, “Aye.”

Jack’s frown deepened and menace began to creep over his face. “And didn’t we have a nice chat about this just last night?”

A hesitant, “Aye.”

Now Jack did lower his voice into a growl, “Then what on the Earth’s Great Seas are yeh doin’ askin’ me what be our destination?”

“Well,” Gibbs hedged. “The crew happened to notice the last island we passed and it seems to them that we are headed past Tortuga.”

The look in Jack’s eyes could probably kill at that moment, until he found himself gripping the compass in his hand. The little box took the wind out of his sails and he looked at it suspiciously for a moment. A second glance at the sea had him looking over the wheel at the Pearl’s compass and comparing it with his own. A glimmer of realization passed over him and he turned back to his first mate.

“Get me the last coordinates,” was his only order.

Gibbs rushed off to do just that and Jack found his gaze off into the distance again. He wondered just what the ship was up to…

***

Will Turner grunted as he hammered the new steel into his latest creation. The sheen of sweat over his skin made him uncomfortable but he focused his attention on each blow to the metal.

A moment of consideration passed and Will held the sword up to the firelight, watching the glow dance smoothly over the blade. He parried with the air and felt for the balance. Yes, it was finished. An easy smile fell over Will’s face as he moved over to the sword rack and placed the newest addition on the top, reverently. A sigh of relief escaped him and he moved to the other side of the forge where there was a waiting bucket of water for him. He splashed some over his face, glad to feel the sweat and dirt streaming off of him.

It was quiet tonight, Will noted absently. It almost reminded him of another night, just before Barbossa and his crew had ravaged the town… But there were no more cursed pirates coming after him tonight. Well, Will grinned to himself, not that he knew of anyway. He straightened up and frowned at the feel of his shirt still clinging to him. Well it was the middle of the night, so he may as well… Will tugged his shirt loose and undid the buttons. He tossed it over the workbench and took the bucket in hand. With a smooth turn, he threw the remaining water over his head and enjoyed the feel of it running over his skin and his tired muscles.

With relief, Will collected his tools and put them away for the night. He grabbed his shirt and made his way to the back room where he was staying. Not quite as comfortable or elegant as the Swann household was, he mused, but it suited him just fine. He was grateful that Elizabeth never made him stay at the Governor’s mansion or else he would have felt caged in all that luxury. Not to mention that it would have made the situation between Elizabeth and himself that much harder. As of late, they’d been drifting apart. It seems that after their adventure with the pirates, Elizabeth had expected something more from Will that he could give. Even with pirate blood in his veins, there was only so much adventure to be found in his profession and he was unwilling to change it. Sword-making was something he did well and he couldn’t, wouldn’t give it up for anything.

He was still dripping a bit, so Will grabbed a spare cloth and moved over to the back window to look out while he dried off. The street outside was dark, with only a couple lanterns on down at the corner. The shadows twisted and danced with each other, mingling across the street only to skirt away when some breeze ventured by. A true give-and-take. The way they moved was very familiar… very much like a certain pirate he knew… Will gave himself a little shake. No use thinking about it now, not after months with no word from the Black Pearl and no possibility of ever seeing it near Port Royal again, especially not with a certain Commodore who would love to see its captain hanged. Wiping his face hastily, Will brushed off a sigh. Yes, nothing to be done about it now. But, as he moved towards his bed and lay down for the night, that didn’t stop that nagging emptiness that continued to plague him.

***

Tap tap tap tap tap tap. Jack fiddled with his knife as he looked over the papers. He had holed up in his quarters, so none of the crew could see his current agitation. If he was reading the charts correctly, and he did pride himself on having a capable mind, the Black Pearl had been meandering its way towards Port Royal for near a fortnight. Oh, it had been subtle enough, but Jack could see the signs: the curves and wayward turns the ship was making. He scowled down at his compass.

“This wasn’t what I had in mind,” he growled irritably, taking a swig of rum. The small compass made no movement, but it didn’t have to. Jack could clearly see that, had it the ability, it would be smirking at him. The Black Pearl gave a little roll, as if in agreement with the little, impertinent box. He scowled and muttered quietly of ships and compasses and other inanimate objects conspiring against him, him. The captain of the Black Pearl, no less.

The ship bucked a little harder this time and Jack put down his knife and tapped the table in front of him with his fingers instead. Absentmindedly, he thought of Port Royal. And then, it was as though he could hear the clang of swords once more, see the intense eyes and confident air of the young lad that dared challenge Captain Jack Sparrow. A quirky smile crossed his face as he thought of the impetuous boy. He had indeed looked just like a young Bootstrap… too bad he didn’t share those pirate tendencies.

Jack frowned in thought. That wasn’t entirely true. He had said it himself, that the lad had been on his way to becoming a pirate. Sprung a man from gaol, check. Commandeered a ship of the fleet, check. Picked up a buccaneer crew in Tortuga, check. And completely obsessed with treasure… his frown deepened. That lass had been a lot of trouble. There was more pirate in her than in Bootstrap’s son, nice-looking girl too. But he would never forget the rum.

“Damn wench,” Jack muttered. What a waste of a fine specimen of liquor. Granted, the signal had potentially saved their lives and definitely saved the life of a certain blacksmith, but it was the rum! There had been trees and other supplies from the hidden cache, why couldn’t she have just burned those. A small whisper went through his mind that the whole thing was just to spite him. Well if that wasn’t a damn pirate thing to do! He would just have to reciprocate in a similar manner. An evil grin began to spread across his face and he fingered the tip of his knife delicately.

Jack jumped up and swaggered his way out of his cabins. Some of the crew jumped away at the look in his face and Anna-Maria appeared startled at the helm. Jack’s eyes had not sparkled so dangerously since he first ventured out to kill Barbossa. Jack shoved Anna-Maria aside, none-too-gently, and took over the wheel.

“We’re making a stop, lads… and lass,” he announced. “We’re dropping in on some old friends, so get this ship moving!” The crew jumped quickly to obey, even Anna-Maria, and Jack consulted his compass once more, this time with a confident smirk. He now had a vendetta to carry out and nothing would stand in his way.

*****

P.S. I can't seem to focus on endings to my WIP stories. So anyone reading those... sorry for the delay and I'll try to come up with something.