Taxes 4 - Die Hard with Pirates

Will climbed the stairs from his floor to that which held Marketing, and Liz, ostensibly to ask her a question about timing on a product launch, and possibly to accidentally-on-purpose run into a certain member of the government accounting team. As he left the stairwell, though, he heard a certain voice cry out, a mournful sound seemingly ripped from the depths of his soul.

"But *why's* the coffee gone!?"

"Because someone drank the last cup and didn't refill the pot. Now get off your lazy butt and do it yourself, Jack, 'cause your maid doesn't work here."

Annie Mae, of course. And Will could be the decent sort and show Jack how to change the filter-pack, but he thought it might be more fun to see how far gone Jack was, and whether he'd try to wheedle someone else into it, or figure it out himself.

Rip...click...hiss...Jack had taken the three seconds to apply his mind to the problem. He must be badly off. Will considered turning around. Jack on a caffeine low was an unpredictable and somewhat frightening thing...and generally horny as all hell.

At that thought, Will felt his feet carry him forward. Oh well, he knew what he was getting into - as much as he ever did where Jack was concerned.

He found Jack at the coffee nook, staring at his cup and at the brewing urn, back and forth, back and forth...swaying, finding a rhythm, and snatch! The mug substituted for the urn, catching a cupful, the urn back in place, and not a drop lost.

Will whistled low and Jack turned, sketching a bow. He then upended the mug and drained it, and repeated the trick, all in under a minute. Will stared. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annie Mae do the same.

"Jack," the woman said, "you need help."

They both watched Jack shiver, a progressive wave, toes to fingertips, eyes sliding shut in a blissful sigh and then opening wide as the caffeine kicked in. Will tried to keep a responding flush of desire in check - Jack had just shivered *and* sighed, after all. He was partially successful.

"I don't know," Jack said, "I seem to have figured this thing out on my own...which reminds me. Will!"

"Yes..." Will replied slowly, carefully. Something was afoot.

"Come here. There's something I want to show you."

If *that* wasn't a loaded sentence...he bit back the obvious reply, ("I've seen it,") since they were supposed to be keeping things under wraps. Technically. Will let Jack grab his arm and pull him down the hall. "I'm close," Jack murmured. "I think the data we just found is going to be very illuminating. There's something going on here, but if I'm right, Swan's going to thank us..."

Will noticed that they passed the conference room and headed in the next door. He'd worked here for years, so he knew..."Jack, this is the janitor's clos-ulp!" For Jack had grabbed his arm, pulled him in, and shut the door.

"Jack, are you sure - "

Something slid between the door and the knob, jamming it shut.

Will gulped, then breathed in sharp as Jack nuzzled at his neck.

"Mm-hm," Jack hummed against him. "I've been wanting to do this all week."

"Jack, we're at work."

Nibble, stroke..."Mm-hm."

"There's a safety drill..."

"Which you'd," pet, squeeze, "already decided to skip - you told me."

"Oh," sigh, "yeah, but I have to get back to work..."

"You'll be back before you know it," Jack replied, voice gone low and seductive. "Sparrow once bet Turner he could make him come screaming in under a minute. Do you remember?"

"No," Will lied, rock hard.

"Well, I think you may." Slow kiss to his neck. "But be that as it may, I've remembered *how* he did it."

Will's eyes widened. He was in trouble....His pants were suddenly open and shoved down. "Mm. What have we here, eh?" Jack crouched against the wall and pulled Will tight against him, nearly into his lap. Then his left hand began to run lightly up and down Will's jutting length. Will craned his neck up and back as his eyes rolled shut. He sighed. Then hieatheath caught as Jack's other hand rubbed circles in the skin behind and below his manhood, hard and chafing. Will twitched and began shaking slightly. Left hand tightened, sped up, and Will tried to swing into it, but the right hand moved, pinched hard right at the junction of his leg...held...

An instant of pain, and then the strongest building pressure, filling his mind...his world..."aaaahh....aAhhhhh...mmmph...." He was losing all control...there was something soft in his mouth and he swore he heard bells.

A low whispered growl. "Scream. My. Name."

Jack let go.

"MMMMPPHH! MMMMMMPH!"

"That'll do."

Will sagged against Jack, feeling like cooked pasta, but very, very satisfied cooked pasta.

Maybe his brain wasn't quite working again yet.

He spat out what turned out to be a wrapped roll of paper towels, now with deep bite marks. "You know, now that you mention it, I think something does come to mind."

"And as I did me best t' catch your gifts, love, I hope ye won't mind having come..." Will could *hear* the Sparrow smirk in Jack's voice. Another paper towel hit the floor, and Will kicked it into the corner. Jack spun him and kissed him long on the mouth while simultaneously zipping Will's pants and tucking in his shirt. Will noticed that the bells were still ringing.

"Oh, right. The safety drill." He took a deep breath. "I knew that."

"And I guess you've got to have some good excuse for missing it." Jack shoved Will outside, with only that grin and a murmur, "Time to get to work."

* * *

"Okay, boys. Time to get to work."

Robbie, Joey, and their crew slid out of the van, some going left, some right. They mingled with the mass of humanity exiting the building, who would, Joey assumed, eventually form up into assigned groups. So would his teams, as soon as they were inside, but for now he ambled along next to Robbie.

Said Londoner was holding the black box remote, ready to hit it when the building looked sufficiently clear. Not too clear, just empty enough for their purposes. Joey gave the box a glance.

"What do the blinking lights mean, anyway?"

"Absolutely nothing, mate, that's the beauty of it." Joey just looked at him and watched him roll his eye. "All right, look. This box blinks because the mother unit blinks. Forgive me for wanting symmetry, as I'm lacking it." Joey cast a glance heavenward as Robbie continued, "The big box blinks so people think it's doing something it's supposed to. You see a black box appear, you get suspicious. Give it pretty lights, people relax."

"Okay. Remind me never to ask you how your mind works."

"'S enough that it works, right? We both could've been born stupid, you know. There but for the grace of God, et cetera."

A kind man, exiting, held the door open for the two. Joey Pintoli looked up the otherwise empty stairwell ahead, then back at the closed door. "What a bunch of chumps." He turned back. "You were pretty good at eyeballing it in Munich and Rio. You think that crowd out there's cleared this place out enough?"

"Eyeballing, he says. I'll look past that, since we're working. Yeah, I'd say we're probably good."

"Okay. Lock it down."

* * *

Will left the janitor's closet, stumbling just a little; Jack slipped back into his team's office a few seconds later. The bells rang on, and then...

The lights flared; one of them blew out. Then the power died entirely for five seconds, coming back with the yellower emergency lighting. A stream of curses, not all in English, and most not from this century, issued from Jack's converted conference room. Will turned and wandered back to find Jack alternately raising his fists and dropping them, while facing his laptop. Which, like Annie Mae and Josh's computers, just happened to be smoking slightly.

"Whoever's responsible for this is going to die, slowly."

"Jack?"

"I was so *close!* I was so...aaah!" Eyes wide and almost rolling, he rounded on Will, reminding him very much of Sparrow in one of his rare sober snits. "It's going to take me weeks to recreate that data, if I'm lucky! Maybe months! And that's with Annie Mae and Josh getting lucky too. Again! *Damn* it! There's something...some*one*..." He looked around, seemed to sense eyes on him, hushed just a bit.

Will stepped forward, laid an arm about Jack's shoulders, all slumped. "You back it up to the home office, right?"

"Yeah, but we were on such a roll the last few days, and the next backup wasn't 'till tomorrow. We were finding connection after connection - I almost had a name..."

A name. A person, rather than corporate negligence or company-wide malfeasance, causing Royal Inc.'sues ues with the IRS. Jack couldn't tell Will in so many words, but the two had never needed quite so many words as most.

"Completely obsessed with treasure," Will murmured, coaxing out a smile. "On the other hand, this gives you an excuse to stay one floor away from me for the next how long? You know, I've a janitor's closet on my floor, as well."

Jack sighed. "Not all treasure's silver and gold, eh?"

"I wasn't going to say it."

"Goes without saying, love."

They remained thus, Will with his arms about Jack's shoulders in an attitude of comfort, when they heard Josh's low, sustained swearing and Annie Mae's shriek.

"And you said I was being paranoid," Josh said, at length.

"Your horoscope said you'd suffer a professional setback. It didn't say you could do anything about it," Annie Mae replied. "Anyway, those things are so general they could apply to anyone."

"Applied to three out of four of us in this room today, didn't it?"

"Well, you're the same sign as Norton in Security, so until the same thing happens to him, I'm..."

A noise in the distance, and they all went very quiet.

At length, Jack said, "Was that a gunshot?"

* * *

Liz jogged down the back stairs to Manufacturing, looking for Will. The email to his department about the upcoming launch hadn't been all that clear, and she knew he'd have questions. The emergency lights were low, but she'd been running around the building since Royal Inc. moved in.

In general, was was prepared for a great many things. She was not, however, prepared to see a skinny blonde in sunglasses holding a gun on Will's boss. She froze.

//...oh, bollocks...//

Elizabeth was absolutely right, there.

"...open the code locks to bay 89, and you might just get through this all right."

An English accent, but the wrong English accent. Liz stared, and Elizabeth scoured hazy memories.

A much duller voice, dumbly repeating...

//...poppet...//

Oh. HELL.

"I can't get you the prototypes. I couldn't even unlock that door if I wanted to. It's on a timer."
WhicWhich isn't working with the emergency power on, god bless Joel Silver and Alan Rickman for the idea. But you did lie to me, so..."

The gun went off, and Brown staggered against a desk. Blood dripped from his thigh.

Then, damn it all to hell, the blonde noticed her.

"Well, well, well, luv. You don't belong here. I know you. You're the boss's daughter."

One eye shaded, though the other lens was clear. Somehow, in some incredibly twisted, screwed up way, it was ... what the hell was his name....

//...Ragetti. The one-eyed man was Ragetti...//

And calling herself Liz Turner wasn't going to work this time.

//...because it worked so well before?...//

"Yes...please, don't hurt me..."

She hadn't played scared before. Could work.

"'Course not, luv, if you don't make me. My, but you look like trouble. Sound scared, but you're steady as a rock. Well, now, go over to that lock, and we'll have Mr. Brown here call out the code, unless he wants the next shot somewhere even less pleasant."

The manufacturing direclooklooked up at her, eyes pain-filled.

"It's okay. I'll fix it with Dad. It's not worth your life, John."

"Thanks, kiddo," he gasped out. "I'd kinda figured that one out on my own. Oh, shit, this hurts..."

The present pirate waved her over with his gun. //Manufacturing's almost deserted...they planned this.//

"Go on, then..."

"Three...one...four..." He took a deep breath. "One...five...nine."

"Pi to five decimals?!" The thin man shook his head. "I didn't need to shoot you for that! What kind of secret code is Pi to five decimals?"

"Well, you didn't guess it, did you?" Liz pointed out, as the locker swung open.

"Oh, I was right. You are trouble." He grinned. "Come on, now, luv, hand it over."

Liz pulled out the first shiny bit of technology, small enough to hold in the palm of her hand. She ed hed halfway to the man, and paused.

//What the hell.//

"Parlay?" she asked.

His true eye glassed over. "Huh. Now why does that sound so familiar...Aaah!" She tossed the fragile item to him, and as he dropped his gun to catch it, she turned and ran back the way she came.

* * *

Robbie groaned inwardly, then shouted, "Oi! Rick! Get in here!"

"Hey, boss. Thought you had it covered."

"I did. Ran into a strangely familiar bit of trouble. Boss's daughter."

"Ths gos good, right? Bring her upstairs for leverage on the old man?"

"Yeah, but she got away for now. Trouble, like I said."

"Well, you locked the place down, right?" said another thug, following on Rick's heels.

"Yeah, I did. She's not going anywhere...but get moving and start in on your sweeps. If we can get her soon, so much the better."

The second thug opened his mouth, butk sik silenced him with a hand and walked out the far door. "Listen, Brady, watch it. This is the kind of boss who shoots you if you question him one time too many. And don't ask me how many times that is."

"Yeah, well, I heard he shot a man for saying he wears women's underwear. Even though he does."

*Click*

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't. But my preferences are not for public consumption, nor are they any of your business. Got it?"

The thug's eyes widened. "Ah...yessir!"

"Good." Robbie waved them out with his gun, then turned to stow the first prototype in his silver case. "California talent," he muttered. "Bunch of bloody slackers. Eddie Izzard wears women's clothes and everyone thinks he's a bloody genius, but god forbid..."

And where the hell had he heard 'parlay' before, anyway?

"Be a good name for a band, though, wouldn't it?" he murmured to himself as he walked out the door, stepping over the unconscious Mr. Brown on his way.

* * *

When Jack tried the elevator, he found that it was stuck. When he headed for the stairs, he backed straight up, arms raised, as a man with a gun motioned him forward. He found himself herded back into his glass-front office, along with Will, who'd ventured the other direction. The man with the gun indicated that he go inside, and so he did, Will following.

"Jack?" Annie Mae asked, eyes wide. "What the hell's going on?"

"They're robbing the place," Will murmured.

"How do you..."

"Ssh. Ireadreading their lips."

Now there was a useful skill. Had the boy *always* had that talent? It would certainly explain a few things.

"That figures," Will said. "Manufacturing for our prototypes and the exec suites for the product specs and negotiable securities. They're collecting the stragglers in conference rooms now."

Josh took heavy breaths. "Are they going to kill us?"

"Too soon to tell," Will replied, then, "Damn. They moved."

"It's them that should start worrying," Jack said slowly, dangerously. "These punks toasted our computers."

Annie Mae stared at him. "Jack, are you completely insane?"

"It's been suggested," he replied, eyes narrowing for a second, then going wide, scared, and innocent as one of their guards looked their way. "Will, can you come over here for a second? I need to talk to you, privately."

As they moved slightly away, Annie just stared. Josh squeezed her hand and murmured, "If anyone can get us out of this in one piece, it's Jack. I told you about all the crap we got up to in college."

"Yeah," Annie said, "but this is goddamn Die Hard, and it's a pretty far cry from making the dean's office disappear."

Jack heard this, but focused on his William. "Will, I'm thinking a change is in order."

"You mean-"

"I'm going to let the Captain out to play. This is way more his kind of show. And if anyone deserves it, these assholes do." He watched Will take a breath and nod, and then waited no longer.

They were really of one mind, and so as Byrd closed his eyes and reached back, he felt Sparrow surging forth to meet him. A very quick sense of question and affirmative response, and then the flooding, intoxicating presence, filling him and washing him back. It was always thus, becoming fully Jack Sparrow. A dizzying spin and the world shifted, tilted off its axis, and then realigned, *different.* Though still fairly skewed.

Captain Jack Sparrow opened his eyes and felt a very odd sensation, an unpleasant dragging feeling like g fag far too long without rum, which he had been, but it wasn't that. It led outside himself and, yes, to Will, who was squinting, wincing slightly. Then a relief of pressure, a release, and Jack knew.

"It's me own Will, isn't it?" he murmured in the other's ear.

"Aye. Smith has a theory - I'll fill you in later. He felt that...pull, and he pushed me forth. He says it's all right, and I did swear to trust him."

"Right. So...Opportune moments."

"Nothing stupid," Will replied.

Jack sighed. "Speaking of stupid, I think I'm about to..." His gaze raked the conference room, and the two scared auditors that shared it with him, also murmuring to one another. "That lot - I love 'em as Byrd does, which is dearly, but for this we don't need accountants. We need bloody pirates. There's no putting it off any longer."

"Are you saying you know how to wake them?"

"Aye. Well, one of them. For Gibbs, I've no clue. But I know how to wake Anamaria. Figured it out days ago. It's foolproof."

"Why haven't you?" Will asked quietly.

"Didn't know that I had the right. This is an odd existence, and while none of us that have it would trade it, I didn't think it fair t' make that decision for others." He met Will's eyes. "Does that surprise ye?"

Will smiled. "Surprise? No. Impress, yes."

"Well, don't be too impressed," Jack sighed. "I also put it off as I knew it'd hurt. Possibly a lot." He saw Will's eyes widen in realization, and then he stood and called out, "Annie Mae?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Annie, could you come here? There's something I've got to ask you to do."

She scooted away from Josh, giving his hand a quick squeeze. Then she was before him.

"Annie Mae, I know there's something you've always wanted to do, almost since the day you met me. I'm going to tell you it's okay. I want you to haul back and hit me as hard as you can."

Annie Mae's face softened as she looked into Jack's eyes. "Oh, Jack, honey, it's all right. We're gonna get out of this. We not not gonna die."

"I know," He smiled, one of Byrd's as his were nearly all too sharp. "Still. Humor me, as I owe you." Slipping a little, there, but it caught her attention, and he held her eyes urgently. "It's all right."

Arm shaking just a bit, Annie Mae raised back her hand for an open-handed slap. Then, flying forward...

*OH,* by all that was holy, that hurt...

*AH!* Her other arm connected, and then a third stinging slap, and his head was ringing so, oh bloody *hell*... He reached up to grab the wrists of the hellcat who struggled, screeching...

"Jack! Jack ye bloody bastard! Me boat! Me car! Ye did it to me again! Ye bloody well did it to me again ye twisted, twisting little reprobate! I swear by th' Holy Mother that if we come 'round again with spaceships, ye aren't gettin' near mine!"

Josh made his way over to Will and murmured, "I think Annie just snapped."

"Ye owe me," Anamaria continued, "Ye OWE me? Ye're bloody right ye owe me! Jack! MEN!" She gave an inarticulate growl, shook him off, and then stopped cold, eyes going wide with realization and just a bit of wonder.

"You okay, Annie?" Gibson asked.

"Y-yeah. I...I'm okay...*Josh*..." She stared at him, and then Jack watched her eyes track the room, covering everyone including the now lone guard outside who watched, snickering. Obviously, he assumed that Jack had asked the logical question of an attractive co-worker in this situation, or at least, the one that would have gotten him slapped.

"So now what...Jack?" And now would definitely be a poor time to insist upon his title, as poor Josh...

"Well, have ye any ideas in that direction?" He jerked his head towards their colleague.

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Gibson grumbled.

Anamaria scowled, her habitual expression, but a bit of deviltry surfaced in her eyes. "Y'know, it isn't always about you, Jack. Y'leave Gibbs to me." With that, she grabbed Josh's tie with one hand and ed hed him forward, kissing him long and hard on the mouth. The other hand threaded through his hair and yanked nearly hard enough to remove the handful.

"Aah! Lass!" he sputtered. "Are ye trying t' kill me!? I've told ye it's the most horrid luck to kiss a man and pull his hair..."

"Not if the lass is mad, Md, Mr. Gibbs," Anamaria said, smiling openly now.

"But ye're not...Oh, wait, ye...you...are...oh my God."

"Aye, Gibbs, married and with babes," she said, a very odd note in her voice. Jack realized he'd never heard tenderness from Anamaria. It was just a little bit frightening.

"Oh my God," Gibbs...Gibson said again. "What the hell - Jack, how long has this been going on?"

"Month or so, give or take. Although it's been a bit more taking than giving, naturally," Jack grinned.

"Lookin' back, I reckon I could see it a bit, when there came something both strange and familiar over ye. Over ye both, I suspect. That is you, young Mr. Turner, isn't it?"

"Aye, Mr. Gibbs," Will replied.

"Well. And...well." Gibbs looked at the guard who was watching, fascinated, a silent, private soap opera. "Hm. Well, captain, we're under guard, held in a glass-front cage by a man with a gun, with who knows how many friends likewise armed, even if we did escape 'im. What do we do now?"

"Aye, Jack," Anamaria echoed. "What now?"

"Well, now," Jack said, looking to Will and then back, face alight, "We fuck their shit up, savvy?"

Equally fierce smiles answered him, and then faded.

"Ah, Cap'n, how exactly are we t' do that?"

"...I'll come to it presently."

Gibbs smacked his hand to his forehead and then rolled his eyes, and Anamaria muttered, "I knew it. He's got no clue, as usual."

"Oh ye of little faith. You believe in me, Will?"

"Of course, my captain. I do, though, have even more faith that my guardian angel will sneak up behind the guard and hit him with something very heavy."

Jack shot him an incredulous, wounded look, which he held until he heard the thunk.

"Oh ye of little faith," Will said, smiling. There lay an unconscious gunman, and there stood Liz with a heavy, blunt instrument. When they opened the door, she eyed them all critically.

"You all just went pirate on me, didn't you?"

A rolling series of shrugs began and ended with Jack.

"I guess I don't blame you. But you're stuck with Liz. I know this place better, and besides," she smirked, "Elizabeth got to do this kind of shit all the time. It's not fair."

"Ye're as daft as he is," Anamaria said, not without some fondness.

"I still take that as a complime" Li" Liz replied. She looked up and down the hall. "Look, they're on some kind of patrol schedule. We haven't got a lot of time. I think..."

"They're robbing the place," Will replied. "They're after..."

"The newest prototypes in Manufacturing - I know. And they wanted me to..."

"Get your dad to open up the executive safes. But if they can't find you, they'll..."

"Go straight to my Dad - oh, shit. Dad. I've got to get up there. If I even can - I can't go more than one more floor down; I tried. Still, it ought to be hard as hell to separate the top three floors from each other. Especially since Dad never read the Evil Overlord List."

"Oh, right, the crawlspace under the floors. We're each going to have to lead a group, then...I'll-"

"Ahem," Jack said. They both turned, neither looking the slightest bit guilty for leaving him out of the fun.

"Oh, sorry..."

"Just wanted t' point out that I, or rather Byrd, read the blueprints for this place before starting this little venture. I'd like to see what kind of sabotage I can do by me onesies. Anamaria with Liz, Gibbs with Will; give a thought to acquiring their weapons if ye can, and incapacitating those ye find. Any clue how many?"

"No, Captain," Will said.

"I'd estimate six, but I could be way off," Liz said. "Just guessing because there were three in Manufacturing. Will, they shot Mr. Brown. He seemed stable when I left, but he needs a doctor. And there's something else I think you should know. One of them...he's Ragetti."

"Who?" asked Ana, furrowing her brow.

Liz covered one eye with her hand.

"Oh! Him. But, wasn't he fairly harmless?"

"This version's *smart,* Anamaria."

Jack was lost, just a second, to a red haze and roaring in his ears. *Mutineer.* He swallowed the mad rage down, as he'd done in a cave so long past. *Not* expedient now. A luxury, to be indulged later.

"He knew who I was, but not who I *was,* so we've got that at least."

"Where he is will be Pintel, as well," Will guessed, but a fair guess to Jack's mind. "Keep an eye out. Ah, so to speak."

"Aye."

"All right, ye scalawags, milady, shall we?" Jack shouldered the gun he'd lifted from the unconscious thug.

"Why do you get the gun?" Anamaria said.

"Because I'm the captain. Get yer own. Now *move!*"

* * *