Eternity and the Sparrow

And so it continues… and guess what? The plot starts in this chapter!

Yet again, I have no beta reader, any mistakes you find are those I haven't caught.
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Early the next day, Jack was out on the deck of the Flying Dutchman. It was a calm daybreak. The sea barely stirred and there was a soft fog curling around the base of the ships.

By Jack’s standards, it was a good morning. He was Captain of a fine pirate ship, had plenty of good rum on said ship, and had banged his lover into the wee hours of the dawn. It was a simple life and he loved it.

William was still in a dead sleep in his quarters and probably wouldn’t make an appearance until late noon. The boy was younger than he was, but Jack still had more than enough energy to deal with sex-hungry whelps.

There was a slim crew working Will’s ship, keeping it ready for any command that he might toss. Jack resisted the urge to tell them not to expect their Captain any time soon. He had places to be and didn’t have time to explain why the boy probably wouldn’t get out of bed all day.

Jack tossed a line over the port side, the rope ‘thunk’ing solidly against the bottom of his dingy. The catchy little tune ‘A Pirate’s Life for Me’ jumped into his head, so he indulged in a bit of humming. Honestly, he didn’t know all the words, but what pirate did? It was the select few lines in the middle that made it memorable anyway.

Jack swung his leg over the side of the ship, but postponed descending to his rowboat when he caught a familiar face looking at him.

“Bootstrap! Ye were always an early riser; I guess things don’t change.”

Bill didn’t appear to be in the best mood, which was rare for the normally placid man. “What is your business with the Captain?” Bootstrap questioned crisply.

His cold tone made Jack pause and pull his leg back over the railing. The pirate lord raised an eyebrow and a good point, “Isn’t it a bit too late for the parental concern, mate?”

“I know he’s a grown man, but I also know you, Jack. I did get tossed to the locker for you, remember,” Bill returned smoothly.

“What’s our business is our business and…” Jack paused to think about what had just come out of his mouth, before giving a brief shake of his head and continuing, “So there’s no reason for you to be involved in it, savvy?”

The other man scowled. “You hurt my boy, Jack, and I’ll have your head.”

Captain Sparrow rolled his obsidian eyes skyward and huffed. “What do you take me for…”

“A pirate.”

Jack gave him a sardonic smirk for interrupting. “I would be a complete fool if I were to wrongly cross the IMMORTAL Captain of the Flying Dutchman, now wouldn’t I? And he’s quite capable of killing me himself, so do we have anything else you need to threaten me about?”

William’s father continued to give him the hairy eyeball, but didn’t bring up any other qualms.

Jack grabbed his line and hopped over the railing once again. As he was about to descend, one more thing came to mind that he felt worthwhile to mention, “Oh, and if I recall correctly, not that I was there, but, I believe it was you who stood up to be tossed to the locker. It wasn’t like I was the one doin’ the tossing. After all, I’d already been tossed.”

Bootstrap cracked a diminutive smile and nodded.

Jack returned the curt nod. There was an immeasurable distance between them that hadn’t always been. He felt it the first time he saw Bill again after the mutiny, when he was getting rum out of the hold on the Pearl… when Bootstrap had delivered the black mark Jones had placed upon him. It was not an expanse that could be closed easily. The pirate tried not to think about it.

“You know, you’re a good man Jack.”

Jack nearly slipped on the Dutchman’s side at the words. He looked around quickly as though to see who could have overheard, before hissing at Bill, “Don’t say that out loud! I have a reputation to keep mate!”

Bootstrap laughed heartily, something Jack hadn’t heard from him in a long time, and waved Sparrow off.

It seemed a sign of some sort. Perhaps an indication that Bill would allow Jack’s influence on the whelp’s life, or maybe that he’d let go of what had happened on the Pearl and what had led to his servitude on the Dutchman. Whatever it was, it left Jack feeling like the world was finally balancing itself.

He finished the climb to his dingy and picked up the oars, resuming ‘A Pirate’s Life for Me’. It was a very good morning indeed, he’d inadvertently steadied things with an old friend, banged his lover senseless (though, he mentioned that one already, didn’t he?), and was headed to Tortuga, once of his favorite places. There was no way that his wonderful morning wouldn’t translate into a wonderful day.

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Many hours, bottles of rum, and saucy wenches later, there was only one thing on Jack’s mind, “Gone.” Again, it happened AGAIN! The Pearl was getting smaller and he wasn’t on it, the situation seemed vaguely familiar, although, not entirely unexpected. Barbossa had been in his presence when he’d discovered the Fountain of Youth on the foreign maps, and that was not a treasure that a pirate shared lightly. Not that Barbossa needed a good excuse to mutiny Jack…

He glanced down to find his first mate sleeping on the dock, a burlap teddy bear tucked under his burly arm. Jack removed his arms from around the two wenches he’d been wooing and toed Gibbs in the side. The man snorted slightly upon waking, but immediately began drifting off again.

“Where’s my ship?” Jack questioned sharply before the man could return to the foggy realm of dream.

He grunted again and muttered, “But we’re ON the ship…” It was only moment before he realized otherwise and surged to his feet.

Jack turned away from his crewman as the sailor began spitting his frustration about being unobservant. The two girls from Tortuga blatantly exchanged skeptical looks, sending Jack’s fraying nerves over the edge. He was at the point that he often got to with women, a breaking point that usually got him in quite a bit of trouble, the point that he snapped and said everything that he’d wanted to say since he’d been in the girls’ presence.

Before he could stop himself, words spewed out of his mouth in a torrent: No, he didn’t love either of them, yes, she looked quite wide in that god-awful dress, no, she hadn’t pronounced anything over two syllables correctly. The irritated release continued until a hand lashed out across his cheek. Another struck the other side of his face and he joined what obviously was a trend and hit Gibbs. His first mate shrugged and nodded, he’d deserved it.

The tarts walked off together, arm in arm, leaving the pirates to share a very different look. Jack released his crewmate with a nod and Gibbs hurried to catch up with the busty women. Despite his foul mood, Jack had to smirk when he heard the man ask about sea turtles before he got out of earshot.

He turned back to the dingy and weighed his options. The crew had at least stocked the tiny boat before leaving him stranded, yet again, so he could take chase. Since there was no way he was letting the Pearl slip away, after all he’d done to get her back, Jack untied the miniature ship and shoved off.

When the Pearl disappeared from sight (they did have bigger sails), Jack pulled out his compass to help lead the way.

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Will wasn’t entirely sure what time it was when he crawled out of bed. His body ached from the previous night’s activities and it complained loudly as he got to his feet.

“I should NOT have let him convince me that a fifth time wouldn’t hurt anything…” he moaned softly in the quiet.

It seemed like every muscled had strained far beyond its normal work load, and Will was in good shape. He wondered vaguely how Jack seemed so unfazed by all of it.

Gingerly, he got dressed. He didn’t bother with his sword or gun, since he didn’t think he could wield them effectively anyway, but slipped on his breeches and a relatively clean shirt. It could only be considered relatively clean because NO pirate or sailor every kept track of how long he wore something. It wasn’t like there was a good way to do laundry at sea.

Last, Will slipped on his boots and wandered out on deck. A crewman was at his side immediately, giving him updates. Most of it involved finishing repairs and the Dutchman being seaworthy again, but it was the last little bit that made Will pause, and the fact that there was an unfamiliar ship anchored very near his own.

“Repeat that last part.”

“Someone from the Bloody Maiden,” he motioned at the ship next to them, “is asking to board our ship. She keeps saying she’s your wife.”

Will blanched slightly. The idea was for her to return to Port Royal and take over her father’s estate, but apparently, Elizabeth had other plans. She’d never exactly been one to listen to other people’s ideas… or give up easily.

“Allow her to board.”

It only took a few minutes to get Mrs. Turner ferried across the distance between ships, and then the Bloody Maiden weighed anchor and turned back towards Shipwreck Island. Will tried to straighten himself up a little, so he didn’t look quite so… well fucked. He prayed to any god who would listen that it didn’t show on his face.

The man who Will had, tentatively, determined to be Herrick helped Elizabeth over the side of the boat. She was still wearing her adopted Asian style outfit, even though she’d made a few changes to it. Tucked under her arm was the black chest. Will wasn’t sure whether to be grateful that she hadn’t left it in Shipwreck Cove, or nervous that she’d brought it with her. If Jack were to come on board while she had that thing with her… Will could only imagine the carnage that would ensue.

“Will!” Elizabeth exclaimed with a warm smile, she acted as though she hadn’t seen him just a day ago.

The pirate Captain was about to question her motives for returning to his ship, but she raced across the deck and tossed one arm around his shoulders before he could say much of anything. The force from the mildly violent hug nearly bowled Will off his feet. He winced behind her back and tried to hold on.

“Elizabeth… I wasn’t expecting to see you!” Will exclaimed in a tone that attempted to be surprised, but verged on confusion.

“Well, I was thinking that, if anyone should take me back to Port Royal, it should be you. It could be sort of like our final voyage together.”

Will’s guts took a twist. It really wasn’t such a bad idea, Jack had started the voyage for the Fountain and they didn’t plan on meeting up for several months. He could take Elizabeth back without missing any of his responsibilities on the other side, but somehow, for some reason, Will felt that it was a bad idea.

But… what was he going to do? He was going to allow her on the ship and turn towards Port Royal. On occasion, he felt like a pushover.

Elizabeth pulled away and kissed him firmly on the lips before he could stop her. There wasn’t a whole lot he could say to defend the ‘no kissing’ rule that he’d established, since Elizabeth was now known as Mrs. Turner she wouldn’t think twice about laying her lips on his. At least Jack wasn’t on board.

“Well, then I suppose we’ll head south and…”

“What’s that?”

Will paused and tried to follow his wife’s line of sight. When he couldn’t figure out what she was staring at, he asked, “What’s what?”

Elizabeth touched the rather nasty hickey that had taken up residence on his collarbone and replied, “That.”

A healthy flush spread over Will’s face, but he muttered something about a loose line giving him a good wallop. Mrs. Turner could only raise an eyebrow at the highly ‘convincing’ explanation. She knew exactly what it was from. In fact, she had more than a good idea of who had spent the time making it. Instead of informing Will of her suspicions, she made an over exaggerated ‘oh’ gesture and let him go.

Feigning a light curiosity, Elizabeth turned to examine the Flying Dutchman for the first time since Jones had died. The ship had changed a good deal. It seemed cleaner, less cluttered than it was before, but it was probably due to the absence of encrusted sea life. All of the barnacles and strange coral had sloughed off of the boat’s surface since Will had taken control. It was a fresh start for both crew, as well as ship.

“It looks better, the ship I mean,” Elizabeth commented smoothly, keeping her fury well under control.

If she brought things up with Will, it would only cause more trouble. To fix things, she would have to go straight to the source of the problem. Jack was the one who led William away from her to begin with and he would be the one that would have to release him. If killing him didn’t work, then confronting him directly might inspire change… or she’d just have to go for his throat again. It wouldn’t be long before he appeared on Will’s boat, Elizabeth could wait.

“Well, I’ll have someone get a cabin ready for you.”

Unwilling to be pushed out of the way, Mrs. Turner came back very quickly with a different plan, “Why don’t I just stay with you? We are married now Will, we may as well.”

Yes, it seemed like a very bad idea indeed, if only Will could put his finger on why.

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Jack turned his rum bottle on its end, savoring the single syrupy drop that fell from the glass jug.

“Well, now this voyage has really gone to shit,” the pirate huffed and tossed the empty bottle into the back of his dingy. Two days had passed since he’d taken off after his ship, and he felt he was making very good time. However, the last of his rum was gone and that was never a good sign for any pirate’s journey.

He unrolled the ancient map he’d taken from the Pearl and examined it for the third, or maybe forth, time. With the way it was set up, there was no good way to judge the distance to the Fountain of Youth. The spinning cryptogram gave him a very good idea of which direction to go, but not how far he would travel. He would head straight towards the Fountain, but it was quite possible that the dingy wouldn’t make the journey. Not to mention his horrid lack of supplies.

Jack leaned heavily against the mast and opened his compass. The needle swung faithfully in the direction he was headed. He snapped the black case shut and ran his thumb over the faded silver design on the box’s edge. The quirky tool was the very reason he’d decided to woo a haughty blacksmith that he now couldn’t get enough of.

It shows you your heart’s greatest desires.

He clearly remembered his mother’s words as she’d handed him the compass for the first time. As far back as he could recall, she’d worn the instrument on a strap around her belt, but had never really told him what it was for.

Captain Sparrow turned the small device over in his hands. His father had been furious when he found out she’d given it to Jack. The pirate understood now why he had wanted it, but it had been his mother’s to bestow upon who she wished.

Do not let your father have it, you have to promise me that Jack.

Direct blood, that’s what he found out later. The device had been in his family for generations. Though no one was sure where it had come from any longer, it had only ever been passed from one blood relative to the next. His father, the infamous pirate that he was, couldn’t resist the draw of an object that could point towards any treasure imaginable. He’d married the obsidian eyed woman in hopes that he would come into possession of the compass. But, he hadn’t been counting on one thing: a child. Jack had been first pick to inherit the heirloom, so the great pirate had lost out to a mere boy.

It will always point to what your heart wants most. Sometimes, you can fool yourself, but you can never trick this compass. It will always know your desires better then you know them yourself.

They’d been on the beach; Jack could remember her long, wavy locks blowing in a vigorous sea wind. It was the last time he’d ever see her. That very same day, he stow away aboard a massive pirate ship that had been anchored in the harbor. He never returned to the tiny port.

As he got older, the compass helped him become one of the greatest pirates that the Caribbean had ever seen. He found more treasure by the time he was twenty than some pirates uncovered in their entire lifetime. He became Captain on the very ship he stowed away on as a boy, the Black Pearl, and led her to many victories. Before he even entered his prime, he became one of the eight Pirate Lords of the high seas.

So when the compass swung its needle towards the curly haired whelp with high spirits and a good sword arm, Jack didn’t argue with it. William was not the first man he’d been interested in and it only took a few weeks of careful persuasion to get the lad in his bed. Although, when Jack made an advance that was too strong, he thought he’d lost the game.

He’d trapped the boy briefly and given him a kiss that was worthy of the record books, if Jack did say so himself. Will had been extremely receptive, but pushed away rather violently when he realized what was going on. The boy had been flustered enough to punch him, so Jack assumed that things had just gone sour.

While the compass shows the holder his greatest desires, it speaks nothing of the wants of what it points at. Jack’s jaw had still been aching when the whelp came back to him, however, and Will started their second kiss, which greatly outlived its predecessor. The lip-lock went madly out of control and he had the boy by hook, line, and sinker. Though, his own passion surprised him quite a bit.

Every night following the first, Will’s flushing face appeared at the door to his cabin, and Jack got very used to his presence. Before he recognized what was going on, he’d gotten too fond of the whelp to let go. So, Jack decided to get rid of the only competition he had, Elizabeth Swan.

His first, and foremost idea had been to woo her away and hope that Will would decide that he didn’t want to be with an unfaithful woman, but that backfired magnificently when she made sure he’d stick around the Pearl to become squid food.

So he was going to need to think up a new plan. Supposedly, Will had convinced her to return to Port Royal, but Jack knew that it would never fly with Miss Swa… Mrs. Turner. The very thought of calling her Mrs. William Turner made his blood boil. Killing her seemed like a lovely option, but the whelp would have a fit.

Before he could think of a good alternative, Jack spotted a small black dot on the northern horizon (precisely the direction he was headed). He jumped to his feet and pulled out his scope to check things out a little more closely. The ship was too far away to identify, but it had dark sails and seemed a very likely candidate to be a pirate ship.

Even if it wasn’t the Pearl, he could get on board and haggle his way into earning passage. He knew almost every pirate Captain on the high seas, so hopefully it was one that he was on good terms with. If it was his Pearl, he was just going to climb on board and shoot that bastard, Barbossa.

Jack made a few minor adjustments to keep his heading steady and sat back to wait. After a few minutes time, he could positively identify the dark speck as a pirate ship. But, it only took him a little longer to realize that it wasn’t HIS pirate ship, and only a moment more to determine who it belonged to.

The ship he was approaching was a very good news, bad news kind of deal. On the good note, he knew the ship’s Captain extremely well and would have no problem getting on board. The dark side of the situation was that the ship’s presence meant that he was headed in the wrong direction.

As Jack finished his approach, someone tossed him a line and the crew on board got to work hoisting the dingy. Not wanting to wait, the pirate climbed the rope they’d thrown him. It only took him a split second to locate the ship’s Captain, steering at the helm, and Jack vaulted up the staircase to greet him.

“You make things very difficult, mate,” Sparrow accused firmly, with a pointed finger to punctuate his comment.

William’s eyebrows raced for his hairline at the statement. “I make things difficult? When have I ever done that?” he replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Before Jack could think up a good comeback, he noticed a slender figure that looked disturbingly familiar. His first instinct was to ask Will why the tart was on board the Flying Dutchman, but he bit his tongue and greeted the girl instead, “Elizabeth.” The name slid through his mouth like some foul-tasting thing.

She smiled, but it was an icy smirk that reminded Will of the artic they’d had to cross to save Jack. “Captain Sparrow,” Elizabeth returned sharply. “What does my husband make so difficult? As far as I know, he’d done nothing but help you at his own expense.”

“Besides trying to take me ship, like everyone else.”

“I’m sure you had your hand in that somewhere.”

Jack and Elizabeth began going at each other with one verbal strike after another. Will hooked a rope over a spoke on the wheel and turned away from his post to watch. It was like a well coordinated sword battle. Neither raised their voice above the level of their greeting, but each blow was lower than the next.

William decided to leave them to it. It would only be a matter of time before one of them dragged him in as leverage, and he really didn’t want blood to be spilt on his new boat so soon. The bad feeling was no longer questionable. If he didn’t separate them quickly, they were going to tear each other apart, but he had no intention of doing that alone. Captain Turner trotted down onto the main deck to find one of his biggest crewmen.

While he assumed the pair was oblivious to his absence, their conversation morphed drastically as soon as he was out of earshot. The senseless insults ceased and more serious topics surfaced.

Elizabeth turned her gaze to Jack’s unruly mane of hair. Braided into the right side of his dreadlocks was a twin-headed key that she hadn’t seen since Davy’s death.

“He gave it to YOU?” she hissed angrily, looking very much like a cat someone had tossed a bucket of water on.

Jack grinned smugly and fingered the piece of metal. “Well, ye didn’t think he would give it to you, did ye?”

She calmed quickly. “He did give me what was most important Jack. Don’t forget that,” Elizabeth said.

She couldn’t let the pirate get to her. He manipulated people into doing exactly what he wanted. It was the unobtrusive, and seemingly innocent way he did it that threw so many people off his trail, but Elizabeth knew better than that. She’d dealt with Jack Sparrow long enough to know his tricks of the trade.

“By the way, where is that treasure chest you were holdin’ for me?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at his nonchalant words, but held up her masked expression. “Somewhere safe,” Mrs. Turner returned, crossing her slender arms over her chest. “It’s always been mine, Jack, he said it himself.”

The pirate snorted and went to the wheel. He took some mild interest in their heading until she’d finished talking. “It used to be yours, tart. It used to be yours… but like all things precious, it can be stolen,” he declared with a smile and turned to face her. He continued in a mildly drunken slur (whether it was real or imitated, Elizabeth couldn’t determine), “Ye are a pirate now Mrs. Turner, not even just a pirate, but the Pirate King, no less, so you of all people should understand that. But ye were so certain of yer ownership of his heart that you didn’t even notice I’d taken it, until you caught us doing the horizontal tango against the wall.”

“You were against the wall, wouldn’t that mean you were vertical?”

Jack paused with his mouth partially open to think about that. “But the vertical tango is a dance…”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes skyward. Everyone always claimed that the legend called Jack was really quite brilliant, but she wondered perhaps if they were referring to someone else. “Well, it doesn’t really matter. I know that you’re just a short-lived adventure, because he’s married to me and doesn’t exactly seem inclined to give up his husbandly rights. Face it Sparrow, I will win this little clash and you’ll be sent off to wallow in self pity as time catches up with you and you become and old man with no past, no future, and nothing to your name but a dingy.”

“But what do ye think time will do to you, mate? At least I won’t have saggy breasts.”

“It won’t matter what I’ll look like, because I’ll have Will and all you’ll have is an empty bottle of rum,” she snapped.

Jack fell silent. He’d been insulted on plenty of occasions, but, somehow, her words had cut him deeper than they should have. He stepped back to examine the wound and realized that it hurt because he was terrified that she might be right. What if Will did choose her?

Rather than give her the satisfaction of a weak response, Jack shot her a wrathful look and walked away. “Awfully defensive of something that isn’t there,” he muttered. She didn’t hear the second attack on her breasts, but at least it made him feel a little better.

Jack’s stroll across the ship lacked its usual swagger since he wasn’t really in the mood for a casual saunter. He grabbed William’s arm in passing and dragged him away from a conversation about possibly putting someone in the brig. Jack didn’t hear who and didn’t honestly care.

Will gave only minor protest as he was hauled down into the cargo hold. Jack maneuvered them into the back of the hold, around barrels and crates, and spun Will to face him.

“Why did you bring us down here?” was Captain Turner’s first question.

Jack didn’t answer him; instead, he posed his own inquiry, “Did you sleep with the tart?”

The question caught William completely off-guard. “She is my wife Jack… How did you know about that anyway?”

Jack lost his focus and started examining the crates around them. He shoved one aside so he could get at its neighbor. Whatever was written on the side of the box brought a smile to Jack’s face as he pried it open.

Will tilted his head to the side so he could get a good look at what his lover was getting into, and asked him again, “How did you know about that?”

The pirate pulled out a fresh bottle of rum, muttering as he examined it, “Husbandly duties.”

“What?”

Jack glanced over as he yanked the cork out of his new friend and seemed to remember the argument he was involved in. “Why did you sleep with the tart?”

Deciding to take a page out of Sparrow’s book, Will’s only reply was, “Pirate,” since the marriage excuse wasn’t getting him anywhere.

Jack narrowed his eyes and a silence feel between them. The soft creak and moan of the ship filled the space. The seas were getting rough with an oncoming storm, and the loose lid was pitched off the open crate of rum. The whole ship seemed to hold it’s breath in the aftermath of the loud clatter.

Will started to prepare an apology, but Jack beat him to the punch.

“That’s my line.”

The younger man bit back a nervous laugh. At least he wasn’t really angry… William flopped down on an available barrel and mentioned, “You sleep with girls in Tortuga all the time.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Will ran his long fingers through his hair with a sigh. “What the hell’s the difference then?”

Jack took a long swig out of the rum bottle. He’s been relatively sober for a few hours and it was a very strange feeling. The sugary alcohol was a welcome relief.

He tried to think of a good response to Will’s highly legitimate question, but the only thing he could come up with was that he was horribly jealous and he rarely actually slept with any of the tarts he wrangled up in Tortuga. He felt that telling William that he was the only one he’d been with in a few years, or that he now only ever felt carnal urges when he was in the presence of the whelp, just didn’t seem like the thing to do. For whatever reason, Jack couldn’t let those words fall from his mouth. He’d never said something like that to ANYONE. He was a pirate and wasn’t permitted such emotion. Pirates were ruthless and unlovable… right?

“You want to know why it’s not the same? I just pay for the milk; you bought the whole damn cow, savvy whelp?”

Will arched an eyebrow. Not sure what to say to that, he changed subjects, “Where’s the Pearl Jack? I noticed that you just arrived in a dingy, instead of rowing your dingy from your ship to mine, or from land to my ship, or…”

“Smart ass.”

Will grinned and returned, “You taught me everything I know.”

Jack set the bottle down, his kohl-rimmed eyes softening slightly. The urge to drink dimmed in light of the urge to tangle his hands in William’s hair and plunder the boy’s mouth until he was satisfied. Not that he’d ever be satisfied. He was not going to lose his treasure to the Pirate King; she could go find some new boy to settle down with. The one sitting before him with a tainted angel’s smile was Jack’s, and, if he had anything to do with it, no one would ever be able to say that they stole William’s heart from Captain Jack Sparrow.

The tart was NOT keeping that box.

Will’s grin faded slightly when he couldn’t peg the expression on his lover’s face. It was a look the man had never donned before: almost nostalgic, in a way, but partly admiring with just traces of lust. Will had seen it before, but not on Jack. It reminded him of an expression that Elizabeth sometimes gave him. On her, he’d always assumed it was love.

Jack crossed the hold in two steps, while William was busy thinking, and grabbed a handful of the whelp’s shirt.

A confused, “Jack?” fell from Will’s lips before the pirate’s mouth descended on his, and then he forgot was he was going to say. Thoughts slithered out of his mind like so many shadows trying to escape from the light. It didn’t worry him, however, as they didn’t seem important anymore.

Will parted his lips to welcome the invasion of his lover’s tongue. The man tasted like his favorite drink, a flavor Captain Turner was getting quite fond of. Following the gentle tug Jack gave to his shirt; Will rose to his feet and let his lover maneuver him where he wanted him, without breaking their lip-lock.

Jack sat down (probably on a crate, but Will wasn’t really paying attention) and silently encouraged the younger man to straddle his hips. William gladly did so, leaning heavily into his lover’s touch.

“Hn,” was all Will managed when Jack slid his hands down the boy’s back.

Not far from the two men, an eavesdropper seethed with anger on the stairwell. She stood from her hiding place and slipped back to the main floor of the ship, cursing Jack as she went.

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Elizabeth was waiting when Jack and Will emerged from the hold. Upon seeing her, William blushed profusely and tried to smooth everything, from his shirt to his hair. None of it did any good, but she made no comment.

“I know it’s a bit late notice, but I think we need to return to Shipwreck Cove,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Jack, who had no outwards signs of the session he’d just had with Will, smiled and swaggered towards her, “And why do we need to be doing that?”

“As Pirate King, I have a matter to discuss with them. They need to be informed of my retirement from the position as their head.”

Captain Sparrow didn’t trust Elizabeth any more than he trusted Barbossa and the whole thing just smelled of rotten eggs. He was not very well liked at the Courts (mostly because of the making Elizabeth Pirate King episode), and he really did not want to go back there any time soon. The tart had something up her sleeve, and Jack was certain is was a viper meant for him.

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TBC