Jjail

Jack woke to a clawing feeling in his empty stomach and a vicious scowl on the
face of the roundish little man peering at him through the bars.

"Sparrow."

With a faint, utterly unamused smile, he propped himself up to elbows,
momentarily half-blinded by a shaft of sunlight stabbing through the window.
Squinted a look beside him -- empty. Behind him -- there. Commodore, standing,
looking absolutely hellish as he stared (mostly one-eyed) at Jack's
well-attired visitor.


And speaking of the visitor... "Guv'ner," Jack greeted him dryly.

"Governor?" From Norrington, who seemed to suffer from the mistaken
impression that he'd just discovered his own sliver of Opportunity.
"Governor Santiago?"

The Guv'ner flitted a look of distaste over the commodore's mottled face, then
ignored him with the ease of one who'd long ago learned to turn a deaf ear to
supplicants. "Debo matarle."


Jack answered in English, understanding more Spanish than he spoke. "Now,
Guv'ner, there's no call to go killing anyone. I had no idea she was your
daughter. It's been years." His head tipped, eyes taunting, smile
incongruously friendly. "Little Alondra certainly did grow into a fine
woman. You must be so proud."

The Guv'ner gripped the bars with his pudgy, hard hands, face red.
"Alejandra is a jewel amongst pebbles! You'd be blessed to grovel at her
feet!"


Jack curved to sit, a knee drawing up, arm dangling atop it. "I'll do all
the groveling you want, sir, if you'd be so kind as to open that door."

"I should hang you myself."

Jack's eyes slid to Norrington. He could certainly think of better audiences
for what he was about to say. Back to the Guv'ner, putting a bit of an edge to
his smile. "I'm too good for business, mate. You know it. I know it. Fair
bet Alondra knows it."

"She knows it," the Guv'ner hissed. "She asks me for your
life."


"A darling girl, really. You've done a fine job raising her."

"She promises me her wild days are done."

Pity, Jack thought. "Wonderful news," Jack said.

The Guv'ner bared a great many small, neat teeth. "And she will marry
you."


Jack stared. Opened his mouth. Shut it. Stared.

"You will tame my daughter, Sparrow. And you will keep her in the riches
and comfort to which she has become accustomed." More teeth showed.
"You will make her a very. Very. Happy woman. Or I..." Fingers
released the bars and mimed a very ominous shearing gesture -- snip-snip.
"...will make you a woman. ¿Comprende?"


Jack's eyes dropped to the area under threat. Flicked up. His lips twitched
uncomfortably. "I always liked weddings."

The Guv'ner stepped back, glaring balefully. "I'll inform Alejandra of
your proposal and her acceptance."

Gathering feet, Jack stood, brushing dirt absently from his backside. "One
more thing, mate. This chap here..." He tipped his head at Norrington, not
looking. "Seems there's a bit of a misunderstanding."

"Oh?"


"Aye. Ah, sí. He's not who you think he is."

"He is who I decide he is," the Guv'ner snapped, also not
bothering to look the commodore's way. "The assassin is to be executed in
the morning."

"I'm not an assassin," Norrington said firmly. "I
am Commodore James Norrington of His Majesty's Royal Navy, and as such, I demand

that you...hear..." But he trailed off rather sadly as the Guv'ner pivoted
on a heel and walked away, uninterested.

Jack glanced over. The man's expression of injured bafflement might've made him
laugh, were he a tad crueler by nature. "I really wish you'd let me handle
that."

Norrington gestured, fingers spread, reaching after the vanished man.
"He's the governor! How can he dare risk English retribution like
this?"

Now he did laugh, a quiet chuff, lips curling up to glint teeth. "He's not
the governor. The governor is a poncey little puppet with a taste
for opium. The 'Guv'ner' there's what you might call a...businessman of
influence."


"A crimelord?"

"Or that. An' I'm afraid he's got about a million and one ways to make a
body vanish." At the blank look that received, he smiled gently.
"Yours, mate."

Norrington swore under his breath, turning away abruptly, an arm going to
cradle his side as the motion jarred whatever injuries the guards had so
unstintingly applied there. Falteringly, he stepped over to the window. Stared
out with his jaw clenched achingly tight.

Jack scratched idly at his collarbone. "Heh."


"Something's funny, Sparrow?"

"Jack. And you have to admit, there's something rather laughable about all
this."

His voice dripped ice. "Oh?"

"I'm gonna marry the Guv'ner's daughter, and you're gonna
swing in the morning. It's like..." His hands flapped alternately skyward,
earthward. "It's like somebody put God on the bottom."


The commodore tipped his temple against the hard stone of the window, and this
time there was no disguising the muted, eloquent whimper that came from his
throat.

***