Unexpected Reunions

Title: Unexpected Reunions
Author: Hellborne (the_ferret_mom@yahoo.com)
Age Rating: 13+

Disclaimer: Characters, Percy, Tawodigola'A, Dominic, and the OTHER Elizabeth mine. Anyone you saw in the movie, not mine. See the Mouse and Johnny Depp. Story, mine, but I make no money. They do, but not on this.

Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. * - * - * is used for scene changes and passages of time.

Summary: Four years after the movie, the Black Pearl fires on Port Royal, the new governor wants Jack dead, Commodore Norrington tries to save him and fails, Jack finds himself on the gallows again, but it's all a misunderstanding really.

Warnings: Loads of Sparrow-Torture. H/C to the max. Angst, Romance

Betas: The two greatest BetaGoddesses in the world, Pendragginink and Littlebird! You're both truly magnificent, and I wouldn't be able to write half as well without you!

NOTE: I live for reviews. Being quite depressed lately about my health and missing my job, I could really use some reviews...and don't think I'm begging for cudos! I happen to love flames and constructive criticism just as much and sometimes more! Lord knows, without constructive criticism, I'd have never fixed some of the boo-boos I've made!

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Chapter 6 - Jack's Hanging

Gillette looked excited. "I don't believe it. Look over there, gentlemen. It appears we've caught ourselves a Sparrow."

Sure enough, Jack Sparrow was busy haggling with one of the local merchants. As he finished his transaction with the man and picked up the box he'd just purchased, Gillette and Groves each took him by an elbow and turned him around to stare at Commodore Norrington, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat spitting feathers.

"Mr. Sparrow. How kind of you to visit an English port."

/Bloody Hell!/ Jack gulped and then smiled sheepishly. "Commodore Norrington, what a pleasant surprise! I was just purchasing a gift for some dear friends." Already fearing he knew the answer from having to avoid the navy on their way in, Jack asked anyway. "Is this port entirely within your jurisdiction, Commodore?"

"As a matter of fact, as Commodore of the Caribbean fleet for His Majesty's navy, it is yes. This port has quite recently been designated an official British possession and a crown colony, the exchange of colors ceremony was jut an hour ago in fact. Gentlemen, escort Mr. Sparrow to the Seahawk and be sure to make him 'comfortable'." Jack rolled his eyes at the 'Mr.' But decided now was not the time to make an issue of it. Norrington took charge of the pirate's personal effects including the box as his captains took Jack away.

The two naval captains frog-marched Jack to the naval ship even though he didn't struggle. As they locked him in the brig, he turned to Gillette. "Excuse me, mate, but do you think the Commodore will wait 'til we return to Port Royal to hang me?"

"Oh, yes, I should think so. He wants you exhibited at the cay, and keeping your rotting corpse aboard would not be good for morale. So rest easy, Sparrow. You'll have a few days yet before you hang."

Jack smiled, gracious at this bit of news. "Thank you. Do you think I might have a visit from the Commodore?"

"I daresay, keeping him away would be more to your liking. Were it up to the Commodore, he would tear you apart with his bare hands."

Jack grinned. "Oh, good then. I believe I'll take a bit of a nap before he gets down here." He lay down on the low bench, put his hat over his eyes, and went to sleep.

* - * - *

"Mr. Sparrow."

Jack peeked out from under his hat. "Jamie! How nice to see you! How's the missus?" He could tell by the flush that must have started at Norrington's toes that he'd ruffled the Commodore's feathers. "And can you at least call me by my proper title of 'Captain'? I DO have a ship, y' know." He sat up, fitting his hat on his head with particular care, taking time to meticulously adjust the fit.

Norrington sighed. "Elizabeth is fine, though I daresay she'll be upset when she sees you. But I have specific orders regarding you and the Black Pearl. You and Turner are to be brought to Port Royal and hanged 'for the amusement and extreme satisfaction of Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Davenport. Personally, Jack. I think you were quite reserved in your treatment of his Lordship's vessel. But The Duchess has a lasting hatred against pirates, and you DID attack them."

Jack shrugged. "Aye, we did. But I dearly wish somehow they'd take the whelp off the list of miscreants to be apprehended; leave him out o' this. He hasn't lived long enough to hang. Me?" Jack shrugged, taking hold of the bars above his head and shaking the cell door, testing its stability. It didn't move. Jack's eyebrows showed he was impressed. He hadn't been expecting that much precaution. He smiled golden and leaned against the bars, his face inches away from the Commodore's. "I'll take my punishment quietly this time good Commodore. I've been rather expecting it every time we make landfall any port but Tortuga." He grinned sardonically. "And it's all in a good cause, really, if the truth be known, I'm not exactly what you would call a total stranger to Lord Percy, and I'm right interested to see if his nibs, our new governor has the bollocks to hang me."

"He does, I assure you. You may not believe this, but for Elizabeth's sake, I actually DID try to get your sentence reduced to thirty-nine lashes and seven years hard labor."

Jack smiled sarcastically. "Why, thank you, Jamie!"

"The Governor would hear none of it. I'm afraid the Black Pearl and Mr. Turner have a very powerful enemy. You should feel lucky not to have to live through the Duke's future plans for the improvement of the Caribbean."

"But why are they so angry? We returned Lady Naffaugh's personal effects. We had our chef make them better food than I'm sure they'd ever had in their lives. And we made certain not to harm anyone; not even a scratch."

"Your chef shall look forward to a life sentence in their kitchen, God knoweth why. As to your consideration for their possessions, one of your cutthroats managed to steal what they considered their most valuable possession, a painted portrait of a young boy and his father. Had it not been for the stealing of the painting, Jack, I know I could have succeeded in my efforts to have your lives spared."

"So, are you saying that giving them back the painting of old Percy and his whelp will save my life?"

"At this point, I just don't know. But they are quite clear in that they shall attend the hanging; I suppose you can ask them then, as your last words. As to that, I shan't be expecting to hear you condemn your actions and beg God for mercy."

Jack chuckled. "Not likely, you're right on that, mate. But rest easy, Commodore; I'll not swing, that I promise you."

"You won't have Turner ready and waiting in the audience to free you this time, I assure you."

"Don't need 'im. Let's both just hope he doesn't do anything stupid or your lovely wife will be MOST upset."

"And just where IS the Black Pearl, Jack?"

"You know me better than to expect me to tell you, Jamie."

"I'll visit you again before we land. I regret that we cannot offer you food of the quality you are no doubt used to, but I did not have the foresight to stock swill on this voyage. I shall miss the chase, Sparrow." This time the Commodore's smile was genuine, his tone sincere.

"Don't count your pirates hanged before they're swingin', mate. 'til then, Commodore." The Commodore left, and Jack settled back onto the bench, reflecting on the possibilities for his future and hoping that the Pearl could get out of the nearby cove safely.

* - * - *

Lord Naffaugh entered the gaol preceded by three guards, one of whom carried a ring of keys. The small group stopped outside a cell with a single occupant, who sat leaning against the wall in a small alcove in the cell, staring out the heavily barred window. "Jack Sparrow." Jack didn't move. Not being accustomed to anyone ignoring him, the Duke assumed the man was asleep, so he spoke louder. "Mr. Sparrow. What have you to say for yourself?"

Jack still didn't move. One of the guards unlocked the cell and the other two strode in and grabbed Jack by the elbows, walking him to the cell door, but no further. Jack lifted his head and stared the Duke in the eyes.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, pirate?"

Jack just stared, not saying a word.

"You or your men stole our most prized possession. Have you nothing to say in your defense?"

Jack's shoulders sagged; he continued to look at the Duke and barely shook his head, his trinkets jingling quietly.

"You're not going to beg for your life? Wish to barter for the painting? Nothing?"

Jack shook his head again, then lowered his eyes, refusing to look at the Duke, not trusting his own voice to answer the blustering nobleman.

"What sort of man are you? You've broken a mother's heart, Sir! And for what? What possible value could a family portrait have to a pirate? Put him back where you found him. He hangs tomorrow. I shall look forward to being there, as will my wife."

The two guards manhandled Jack to the back of the cell, unceremoniously dumping him on the stone floor. Jack tenderly rubbed his rump, then resumed his previous position in the alcove, ignoring the Duke completely, looking out the window at the horizon.

/If ol' Percy can't even recognize me then I'm not goin' t' help 'im. Let 'im try to get his OWN paintin' back. I only hope that Kamama has better eyesight than 'er bloody Duke. If not, it'll serve 'em right./ He dropped to the bench and lowered his head to his knees. /Bloody Hell!/ As they left, no one noticed the single tear that formed at the pirate's eye.

* - * - *

The list was impressively extensive; the tedious beat of the drum went on and on as the bailiff sonorously detailed all of the pirate's crimes against the crown. Jack stood there, impassive, his gaze focused and steady, trained on the Governor and his wife, watching them intently. Lady Davenport stared back at him, her flickering eyes narrowed a bit as if trying to recall where she'd seen him before.

When asked if he had any last words, he merely shook his head, his trinkets jingling and glistening in the sun. The drum roll started and they put the noose around his neck, tightening it to a length that wouldn't slip over his head when he dropped.

The drum roll stopped, and the lever was thrown. Jack dropped through the trap door; the rope hummed as it pulled taut, but his neck didn't snap. He hung there, swinging, concentrating on not thrashing, knowing that it would just tighten the noose, which had almost cut off his air. He tugged on the rope fastening his bound hands to his waist, struggling to get enough slack to reach his neck, to loosen the one-way knot, to no avail. They were too well fastened, for just such a purpose. He knew there would be no reprieve this time. Time slowed, he quickly felt dizzy, slowly suffocating from the tiny amount of air he was getting; the rope was cutting into his neck, crushing his throat and the pressure in his head was excruciating; he decided to just quicken the process and forestall further agony. He started thrashing, tightening the noose to cut off his breathing, the more quickly to end the hempen jig of Captain Jack Sparrow, his trinkets jingling in the sunlight.

Lady Davenport leaned forward as the trap fell out from under the loathsome criminal, her eyes flickering as she took in every detail of his justified punishment, then froze still as she caught sight of something she hadn't noticed while the pirate had stood on the scaffolding. Her eyes grew wide and her face reddened, darkening, nearly as much as Jack's. "Cut him down-NOW!" She ran toward the gallows, surprisingly spry for a woman of her years, hands waving frantically in the air, shocking Commodore Norrington and confounding her husband. As she reached the gallows, Jack's body stopped thrashing and hung still, barely twitching, his bulging eyes open and staring, a trickle of blood running from his mouth, his tongue blackened, protruding, his face the color of a ripe plum. Her voice rang out again, not at all the sound of the frantic female, no, but in the imperious tone of one who is accustomed to being obeyed. "Cut him DOWN! NOW! DO IT!"

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TBC