Eternity and the Sparrow

Okay, I feel I got a sufficient response to continue this story. Actually, I got a lot more response than I was expecting. I was thinking that 10 reviews would be enough to keep this going, but ya’ll took me by surprise and sent a whole hell of a lot more than that. I’m glad you like this pairing as much as I do.

Now, I’m determined to see this through to the end.

Please forgive any mistakes, I didn’t send it out to be beta-ed!

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Will didn’t open his eyes when he awoke. It was still very early; he could feel it in the air. The ocean air had an almost unnoticeable bite of chill to it, but it would fade as soon as the sun rose and the heat would return. It was winter in the Caribbean… or maybe it was fall. Will had never really experienced seasons until he’d ventured outside the Caribbean… he was not a fan of the cold.

He snuggled a little deeper under the thin coverlet on his bed. The warmth at his back shifted and an arm slipped around his chest. A groggy smile slid onto Will’s face.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” the young man murmured.

“I am restin’, can’t ye tell?”

A hand slid teasingly up his bare chest. It lingered momentarily, hovering over his collarbone and tracing the lines of his neck muscles, before it slid gingerly down his ribcage. It roved down the slight curve of his waist, bumping over his hipbone, lingering on the ink sparrow at widest part of his hip, and finally trailing along the smooth curve of his buttocks.

Will savored the heat and tingle of his flesh reacting to Jack’s touch.

“I’d say you’re trying to start something.”

Jack chuckled. “Ye’d be right,” he breathed in the lad’s ear. He coaxed the boy onto his back and all but disappeared beneath the sheet. Will didn’t have to ask what he was up to, he could feel his lover’s tongue exploring his stomach and heading towards deeper waters.

Jack paused as he reached the curly nest of hair in the ‘v’ of Will’s legs. He buried his nose in the soft curls, breathing in the scent of sweat, sex, and sea water.

“You smell divine luv.”

Will chuckled, “I think it’s a smell only you could appreciate. Elizabeth was always telling me to take a bath.”

“That reminds me, how’d the tart take the send off?”

The content smile on the boy’s face faded slightly. “As well as could be expected.”

Jack let it drop. He didn’t want the mood to swing too dramatically in the opposite direction, and that’s exactly what it was going to do if the lad kept thinking about the loss of his bonnie lass. He watched as his lover’s expression turned inwards and he could see too many wheels turning behind that lovely face. Acting quickly, Jack decided on a shock tactic to derail Will’s train of thought.

Will all but jumped out of his skin as Jack took his entire cock deep into his throat. The feeling was exquisite, hot and tight. The older pirate hummed softly as he worked and the lad arched his back off the bed.

“Oh God!” was all he managed.

Jack had never given him such pleasures before. When he tended to his erection, it was always with his hand. Will wasn’t even aware that it could be done with someone’s mouth.

It wasn’t a pleasure he’d soon forget.

Jack held firmly to the lad’s hips to keep any wild thrusting under control. He deep throated the whelp a few times, then moved back to tongue and tease the weeping head. Underneath his hands, the muscles in Will’s stomach and legs tightened. New stimulation brought orgasms more quickly, but he didn’t want the boy going off just yet. He continued to drag him towards the edge until he knew Will was teetering dangerously on the brink.

Will let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when Jack’s mouth abruptly left his nether regions. A hazy fog had settled over his mind and he was completely lost in it. His only coherent thought was to wonder why the wonderful stimulation had stopped.

He whimpered softly, unable to voice his need with words.

The sound went straight to Jack’s groin. Why did the boy have to be so sinfully adorable? It didn’t seem right that one human being should be so attractive. But, it didn’t matter, because he was Jack’s now. He didn’t have to share the whelp with Miss Swann, err, Mrs. Turner anymore, so every inch of the boy’s body belonged to him.

Jack claimed Will’s mouth ferociously. There was a hiccup of time before the aroused youth responded, returning the kiss with as much fire as he was given. Their tongues dueled for dominance, but Jack got backup from his teeth and Will opened his mouth in submission. Jack allowed his tongue one good sweep of his spoils, then shifted his weight back. Will leaned forward as Jack retreated, wanting more, but the older pirate pushed him down.

“Roll over,” Jack commanded in a husky voice.

Will did so, sliding up onto his hands and knees. The position gave Jack perfect access to what he wanted. Using spit, since he’d run out of oil, Captain Sparrow slid a finger into Will’s opening. The lad was still loose from the previous night’s activities, so it didn’t take Jack long to get him ready. He rubbed his fingertips against the boy’s sweet spot until he was purring with contentment.

Will collapsed onto his lower arms. His legs threatened to buckle as well, but he managed to stay upright.

Jack smiled at the panting mess his lover had become. That was always his favorite part of making love. He withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock. The boy under his hands pushed back, eager to be impaled on the engorged length. He had only managed to take in half of it before Jack stopped him.

“Can’t have you doin’ that luv,” Jack groaned and firmly seized the lad’s hips, adding in a soft slur, “Ye’ll end things early doin’ somethin’ like that.”

Will growled in frustration. He wanted satisfaction NOW, not when Jack felt like giving it to him. His reaction earned him nothing but a healthy chuckle from his lover.

Jack pulled out of the boy’s tight body, “Yer a bit too eager whelp.”

He grabbed Will’s arm and turned him, even as Captain Turner spoke, “You made me this way.”

“Did I now?” Jack traced his hands along the lad’s thighs and gently persuaded Will to straddle his waist.

He met Jack’s kohl rimmed eyes, giving him a mocking glare. “Aye, you did,” he stated and wound his hands into Jack’s dreadlocks. Their lips met briefly, but Will broke away with a cry when Jack shoved inside him.

“If it’s my fault, then I may as well give you what ye want.”

Will grit his teeth and shifted on the older man’s lap, trying to get adjusted to the abrupt intrusion. It felt good, but there was always the initial pain to get through. Will rose to his knees experimentally. Jack’s member slid nearly out of him before he pushed back down.

The lover’s shared a groan at the slow merging of their bodies. It was a perfect moment: when the waves froze, the skies grew quiet, and the world stilled on its axes. There was nothing left but them.

Jack wrapped his arms tightly around the boy’s waist, gently urging him to move. He rose to his knees again, but the older pirate caught him off guard by thrusting as he came back down on him. The resulting friction was phenomenal. Will howled his lover’s name through the ecstasy.

Jack bit down on the whelp’s shoulder and started their pace. It began slowly, thrust meeting thrust, but become more erratic as their speed increased. Will slammed down eagerly onto the body below him. He ceased to recognize where his flesh ended and Jack’s began. They became one, carnal creature made up of desire and lust.

Jack admired the wanton abandonment with which his companion approached their love-making, his head thrown back, murmuring and screaming at the ceiling. Occasionally, he would tilt his head forward to rest on Jack’s shoulder, so he could kiss the older pirate’s neck. The lad was a creature of boundless passion and went into every situation with as much fervor as he could muster. Jack really wouldn’t have it any other way.

Feeling the heat of the approaching finale, Jack slid his hand down between their sweat-slicked bodies to finish the boy off. He’d barely touched him when he reached orgasm. Jack buried himself deep into Will and spilled his seed, following the whelp over the edge.

They both fell back onto the tiny bed, Will bumping his head on the same god-forsaken carving he’d hit every time he lay down. He gave the sea serpent an angry look, because he was too spent to muster anything else, and curled up with his lover.

Jack took up a comfortable position with his head resting in the curve of William’s neck. Will allowed his hand to play over the shapes of Captain Sparrow’s back, tracing lightly of the multitude of tattoos there.

Work stewed in the back of his mind. They’d neglected their duties on the other side and Will could feel it in his core. It was almost like something was physically pulling at his insides. It was not a wholly pleasant feeling.

“Jack…,” the lad ventured.

Jack groaned and rubbed his face against the boy’s smooth skin. Why did the lad have to ruin the afterglow with talk? It’s not like they had anything too terribly important to talk about, right?

“What,” he slurred in response.

“We’re going to have to cross over soon.”

The mutinied Captain gave the immortal Captain the hairy eyeball. The boy really had no concept of good, after-sex etiquette. “I believe ye’ve mentioned that already.”

“I know, but it really needs to be sooner rather than later. We’ve been waiting for you to feel better. The bell has been making noise for days, so waiting much longer could be problematic.”

“Problematic?” Jack echoed, busying himself with the little expanse of flesh under his companion’s jaw.

Will rolled his eyes skyward. Jack really didn’t think about anything that wasn’t in the immediate ‘now’. Will had been expecting the man to put ‘Locker responsibilities’ together with ‘not doing the job’ and the late Davy Jones

“I don’t think you’d be quite so cuddly if I turned into a squid.”

An image of his lover with tentacles sprouting from his jaw sent a shudder down his spine. Jack sat up abruptly, his dark eyes wide with understanding. “Why the hell are ye layin’ around here boy?! Get your ass to the Locker and do your job!”

Will burst into laughter, doubling over when his stomach muscles started cramping up. Jack was mortified that William was taking things so lightly. It was a matter of vital importance that he get back to work! What if he did turn into a squid! Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Will sat up and kissed him.

“We’ll go now.”

The boy rolled out of the bed and picked up his knickers. He hiked them on and sat down to pull on his boots. He tugged at the soft leather to get it past his calf, but felt no movement behind him. Will turned to find Jack watching him intently.

“I thought getting back to work was top priority,” Will said teasingly, a faint smile curving his lips.

“What if the fountain is just a crock of grog?”

Will paused and focused on the older pirate, joking, “I’ve always heard it was water.”

“What if it isn’t real?” Jack responded sharply. “What if we follow these damn maps and there’s nothing at the end?”

“Well, I guess we’ll turn around and come back.”

“That’s really not the point, lad.”

The boy fell on the bed next to him. He knew exactly what Jack was worried about. What if there was no way for him to gain immortality while Will was forever unchanged? The thought of an eternity alone was daunting.

“I guess we’ll find another way. There are far more stories dealing with immortality than just the Fountain.”

“And what if there isn’t a way?”

Will opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I don’t know,” he muttered in defeat. “I just don’t know.”

Jack sighed. He probably shouldn’t have said anything. The lad’s brow creased deeply as he thought about it, it was not a look that Jack liked. Will tended to fret about something until he made himself sick. Jack snagged the boy’s jaw and titled his face up. He kissed Will reassuringly, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind.

“Maybe I’m just pessimistic.”

“For a man who started a conversation with ‘cuttlefish’, pessimistic is a bit sophisticated for you, isn’t it?” Will remarked with a small smile, doing his best to ignore the very nerve racking subject his lover had brought up.

Jack’s obsidian eyes narrowed at the comment and he pinched the arrogant youth’s ribcage. Will squirmed away from him with a laugh, hopping back to his feet. “Get dressed Sparrow, we’ve got work to do.”

“We? Isn’t this yer job whelp?”

Will slipped on his shirt, and marched out on the deck without his companion. He yelled at his idle crew, “We cross over! Get everything ready!”

They’d passed to the other side before Jack joined him at the helm. He glanced uncertainly at the bell they were erecting on the lower decks and tapped Will’s shoulder. “Um… what the plan to make sure that,” Jack gestured widely at the Spirit’s Call, “doesn’t try to kill me… again…”

“I sent one of my men into Port Royal while we were there to pick something up. Hadras!”

A tall, lanky man tending the lines turned at the sound of his name.

“Would you bring me Captain Sparrow’s wax?” Will called.

Jack titled his head slightly. Why in Calypso’s name would he need wax? And didn’t that pirate’s head used to be a detachable crustacean? He peered closely at the pirate’s face, trying to picture it surrounded by a shell. He was still attempting to figure it out when the gangly man handed something to Will and went back to work.

“Jack…”

It was either that, or half of his face was once a puffer fish, Jack wasn’t quite sure which…

“Jack!”

He turned back to the whelp and left his pondering. The lad was holding a small box in his outstretched hand.

“This is beeswax, to plug your ears. I used to use it in the smithy when I couldn’t sleep, it helped block out the sound of Mr. Brown’s snoring,” Will explained as Jack quizzically examined the molded wax. “Now, put them in before they finish getting the bell ready. I’d really rather not have a repeat of your last adventures here.”

Jack did so, not wanting to repeat things any more than Will. Not that he remembered anything, but it had sounded quite excruciating in the retellings. Noise from the crew dropped to almost nothing once the wax was in place. He gave the lad a nod, and Will gave the final, albeit extremely muffled, command to his crew.

They released the bell and shuffled back several steps. The behemoth remained motionless for a moment, and then swung as though it was caught by a mighty wind. The nearly-visible force of the chime swept across the boat and out across the water, passing by Captain Sparrow with little more than a gentle ruffling of his clothes.

Will let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. At least there was one less thing to worry about.

The boats came first, gliding silently across the dark water. There weren’t many of them. Between the celebration in Shipwreck City and the lack of major storms in the Caribbean the past few weeks, there were very few good souls to be collected. Not many innocents could be caught in non-existent crossfire. The souls boarded the Dutchman quietly, gathering on the deck in a relatively small cluster.

As soon as the last boat disappeared off the water, those swelling beneath the waves poured through the underbelly of the ship. At the pace they were coming in, it only took moments for the Dutchman to fill to capacity. Will surveyed the numbers carefully. It had been long enough since they’re last visit that there’d been quite a pile-up, and it was going to take at least two trips to level things out.

Jack, on the other hand, watched the souls themselves. He wasn’t fond of being near so many dead, vengeful spirits. The souls that came through the bilge were not only disgusting to look at, they smelled quite offensive. It was amazing how many of them appeared to be pirates.

Jack had been damn lucky in his lifetime. He’d been a pirate since the day he could toddle and, unlike so many poor bastards, he’d managed to survive a good number of years as one. Being a pirate was dangerous business, and you either had to be extremely skilled, or very lucky to stay alive.

He glanced over the rows of souls, his eyes catching on a strangely familiar hat. It was a large, floppy hat with a long feather sticking out of the band and the last time he’d seen it, it was on top of the crown of one Hector Barbossa.

Jack swaggered down to the main deck, careful to keep an eye on the soul in question, and weaved through the copious amount of spirits in his way. He ducked around a shabby-looking wench with one eye and found himself face to face with the man who’d stabbed him in the back too many times to count.

Jack was unable to stop the crow of laughter that escaped him. “They finally decide to toss ye over as well? It’s about damn time!” Barbossa’s soul continued to stare ahead blankly, either unwilling or unable to answer him. It didn’t matter, because Jack was going to gloat anyway. The bastard had finally gotten what he deserved. It was just a shame Jack hadn’t been there to see it.

“Ye brought this on yourself, after so many…” Jack trailed off when he noticed another disturbingly familiar pirate out of the corner of his eye. It was the short, round little man with receding hair, the one Jack always saw hanging around with the man that might have well have been a walking stick… Pintel was his name and the stick was Ragetti.

Jack had no smart remark for him, or for Ragetti, who he spotted a few feet away. In a slight panic, he searched the rest of the souls. One after another, he found the pirates who manned the Black Pearl in the masses on the Dutchman. Who the hell was on the Pearl if her crew was in the Locker?!

Jack grabbed at the nearest pirate, though his hands went straight through the man. “Where’s me ship! What the hell happened to me ship?!” he yelled at the blank face. He scuttled from one to another, hollering the same questions.

A very physical body interrupted his mad dash and he looked up to find Will motioning at his ears. It took Jack a brief moment to catch the hint and pry the wax out so he could hear him. He didn’t give the lad a moment to get a word in, “Something’s happened to the Pearl! What if other pirates have taken over her?! What if there was a storm and now there’s no one to man her? What if they were caught by the navy and she’s in the hands of the law?!”

The man flailed in ways Will had never seen him flail while he was going through his possibilities. He kept his tongue firmly in check over his own idea. Mentioning it would probably give Jack a stroke and he was already worked up enough as is.

When he was a touch calmer, Captain Turner cut in, “Asking the crew really isn’t going to get us anywhere. A soul can’t really hear you, and even if they do, their responses are always vague.”

Jack gave him a wide-eyed look of desperation, “But what about me ship, boy?”

“I think we should finish the job here, and then we’ll use your compass to find your ship.”

Jack processed Will’s offer, and accepted with a curt nod.

They both headed back for the helm but something stopped William in his tracks. As they passed Mr. Cotton and his parrot, the wispy bird let out a terrible screech. When Will looked at the creature, it spoke in a raspy, drawn out voice, “Here there be monsters.” He tried to question the parrot about its words, but he got nothing else out of it.

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When the Flying Dutchman returned to the land of the living (and Jack still having no ill side-effects from the crossover), they got down to the business of locating the Black Pearl. Jack kept to the helm, compass in hand, to give heading when need be and keep watch for his beloved Pearl.

His strange compass gave him very little trouble, pointing in an almost constant southerly direction. When Jack’s mind slipped away from the Pearl, the needle would swing round to point at the whelp, but he would get it back under control quickly.

For days, they saw nothing but open ocean. On their third night out, the sky split and released a terrible downpour. The deluge came with little wind to speak of, so the seas were as calm as a sailor could ask for in a storm, but it cut visibility to nothing. The two pirate Captains remained on deck for part of the storm, until Will decided it was time to furl the sails and wait out the remainder of the rain. He gave the wheel to his father and Will and Jack disappeared into the Captain’s quarters until dawn.

The eighth and ninth days passed with little to remark on. The Dutchman’s crew passed the time with dice, betting food rations they didn’t really need instead of years of service. Eating was, after all, a luxury for an immortal pirate. They felt hunger like any mortal man, but wouldn’t die if that hunger wasn’t satisfied.

Around noon on the eleventh day, Jack’s compass slowly changed heading. The pirate didn’t recall allowing his mind to wander to his lover, though the needle didn’t stop as it passed by the boy at the helm.

Jack pushed off the railing he was leaning on and crossed to Will. “Lad, I think we may need to turn about.”

Will leaned to peer at the current heading with a furrowed brow, asking, “Do you think they moved your ship?”

“Save for making me ship damn near invisible, I don’t see how they got past us. Unless you noticed the Pearl sailing by while I was napping,” Jack commented with a touch of light sarcasm.

Will gave him an annoyed look for it, but said nothing. “Turn the ship about!” Will yelled at his crew.

They scurried into the rigging and swarmed across the decks to get the sails re-tacked. The massive ship made a graceful arc in the water. Jack’s compass turned as the ship turned, slowly swinging back to point out across her bow. He watched it carefully when they started north, his gut sinking when it swung round again. Whatever it was pointing at was probably under the water.

“Drop anchor!” Jack shouted.

Will’s crew hesitated until their Captain repeated Jack’s order.

“What’s going on?” Will asked.

The wily pirate didn’t answer him, too busy mucking around inside his own head to do so. He trotted down from the helm and hurried to the bow. The compass held steady. Jack put the tool away and leaned out over the edge of the boat, staring past the bowspirit and down into the bright blue ocean. He hoped that his Pearl wasn’t underneath all that water.

Will caught up to him as the anchor reached the bottom and the Dutchman lurched to a halt.

“Jack, what the hell is going on?” Will asked again.

“Well, as far as I can figure it, either there’s a case of rum at the bottom of the sea, or me ship is at the bottom of the sea.”

“Oh.” Will leaned over the edge with him, “How do we tell the difference?”

“Maybe if I had some rum, I wouldn’t want rum and then it would point somewhere else.”

It seemed logical enough, so Will disappeared into the hold and came back with a bottle. Jack took it from him, turning his eyes back to the compass to see if the heading changed. The needle didn’t waver.

“Maybe you have to drink it?” Will offered.

Jack popped the cork off and downed several good swallows before checking the compass. It remained steady.

“Shit,” the pirate mumbled.

If it wasn’t the whelp and it wasn’t rum, then it had to be the Black Pearl. His beautiful ship was at the bottom of the sea. Jack’s guts twisted into knots with this knowledge. What on earth could sink the Pearl? If used properly, she was one of the fastest ships on the seven seas and had more than enough fire-power to take care of any problems that might pull up beside her. What kind of trouble had Barbossa gotten her into that she’d be sent to a watery grave?

Will, not knowing what else to do, put a comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder. The Pearl had been Jack’s life. When he wasn’t at her helm, he was hunting her down so he could retake her. Will knew how hard Jack would take the loss.

“We have to send someone down to her.”

“What?!”

Jack turned to his lover, a fire in his eyes. “We have to be sure it’s her.”

“Jack, can’t we take the compass’s word for it,” Will pleaded. They were in deep water and sending a man down could very well be suicide.

“We could… but the maps were on me ship.”

Will cursed and peered over the railing. “Who the hell are we going to send?”

“Well, I would just suggest one of the men, but yer the only one who knows what they look like. And yer the only one that knows the Pearl as well as I do.”

“Why don’t you go down then?”

“Yer the immortal one mate.”

Will repeated his curse and glared at Jack. “Your trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“’Immortal’ being the key word there, luv,” Jack returned.

A voice interrupted their argument from behind, “Davy was part of the sea, boy, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.” The older Turner joined them at the rail. “So, that’s finally the end of the infamous Pearl.”

Jack stiffened at the phrase.

Bootstrap noticed his reaction. It was time that Jack let the Pearl go, especially after he’d lost her so often. “She was a cursed ship, Jack,” he said quietly.

“No, we broke the curse when we returned the last of the gold,” Jack defended.

Bootstrap shook his head. He’d really have to ask his boy to tell him that story one day. The last he’d heard, the Aztec curse still had a firm hold on the Pearl and her crew, but he knew young William had something to do with the lifting of said curse.

“That’s not what I meant. That ship lost her Captain so many times that she had a very different kind of curse. You never would have kept hold of her,” Bill added, punctuating his words by spitting into the water.

Jack groaned and leaned on the railing, unable to think up a single response. Bill was right, in a way, but the Pearl would always be his.

Will cut in, “Cursed or no, I’m assuming the maps are still on the Pearl.”

“Aye, that would be a likely guess.”

The boy nodded and shucked off his shirt. It briefly crossed his mind that he really couldn’t seem to stay dressed long, but he pushed the thought away. The boots came off next and he laid his cutlass and pistol across them. When he was down to his knickers, he jumped onto the rail.

Jack curled his hand around William’s calf to hold him back. “Ye really only need to concern yerself with the maps. I’m sure Barbossa was keeping them in me quarters,” Jack instructed before he let the lad go.

Captain Turner gave his lover a smile and braced himself for the dive. It was his firm belief that the Pearl would be too deep for him to reach. There was only so much depth a body could take before it quit working. But, if his father’s words of encouragement were right, then his body could handle anything the ocean came up with.

Except maybe sharks…

Will leapt off the Dutchman and disappeared into the ocean’s arms. It was only seconds before he swam out of sight below the surface.

Out of sight of the ship’s crew, where boat met waterline, a small creature clambered onto the Dutchman’s hull. It shook fiercely to rid its fur of water, but only succeeded in becoming slightly less soggy. The beast maneuvered up the ship’s side and slipped, unseen, into one of the many open portholes.

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Will descended slowly into the deep abyss of the ocean. Every stroke of his powerful arms brought him closer to a thick darkness that obscured the sea floor. The farther down he got, the more his lungs tightened painfully. He tried to reassure himself that he didn’t need to breathe, but panic settled in. There was no way for him to reach the surface in time. He’d gone too far!

Will released the last of his air as he swam uselessly for the top, the pockets floating away from him in a rhythmic dance, but he didn’t black out. The pain faded as the air disappeared from sight. He took a moment to calm down and found that he felt just fine. Taking note not to hold onto a breath when he swam, he continued on.

No one needed to know about that little panic attack.

As he moved through the seemingly endless darkness, strange shapes materialized in the murky shadows. They grew up from the black and became the jagged, broken masts of the Pearl. Strips of sail still hung from the boom, floating on the ocean current in a mocking eulogy to the wind.

The ship was in horrendous shape. As Will’s eyes adjusted to the thick gloom, he could make out pale bodies trapped in the wreckage. The dead didn’t frighten him, he’d seen them before, but the tremendous hole in the Pearl’s side sent a tremor down his spine. There wasn’t anything in the ocean large enough, or vicious enough, to do so much damage to a ship since the Kraken had perished.

Perhaps the beast wasn’t dead after all?

Will grabbed a stray line and hauled himself towards the deck. The breach that was the Pearl’s downfall ran up across the main deck and through the mizzenmast, which must have fallen before the ship sank. It was laying some distance away, half buried in the sand.

Will hooked his hand into a scupper to weigh himself down and moved closer to one of the bodies tangled in the loose rigging. It was strange that there was no sign of any kind of fish activity on the bloated flesh. Normally, sharks and fish alike would cluster around wreckage and feast on the bodies in the water. The fish would come first, then flee when the larger predators began showing up.

Sharks weren’t normally scared away by any other predators; they would even feed when larger sharks came to the area, so why were the dead still whole?

Too many questions, too few answers. Will decided to focus on finding the maps, like Jack had suggested. He entered the Captain’s Quarters and began searching. Everything loose had tumbled to the starboard side, the side the Pearl had finally come to rest on at the bottom of the ocean. Will dug through the disrupted piles.

It was darker in the ship than it was outside and Will had a hard time discerning what he was looking at. He knew the maps were constructed of flat bamboo, so he felt the textures of every object that passed through his hands. Nothing came even remotely close to what he was looking for.

Next, he checked drawers and chests, and finally moved to the heavy table bolted to the floor. He swept his hand across the polished surface and encountered something solid. Whatever it was, it was sharp and bit into his flesh deeply. He clutched the wounded hand and peered into the shadows to barely make out the handle of a dagger.

It was pinning something to the table, something lighter than the surrounding wood. Will reached out more carefully, brushed his fingertips over the surface and found the texture he’d been searching for. He victoriously yanked the knife out of the table and rolled up the map.

He swam out of the wreckage and headed for the surface, his prize tucked securely in his belt. Several hundred yards to his left, beyond the wreckage of the finest pirate ship ever to sail the seven seas, the murky darkness twisted and writhed. A shadow far more sinister than those around it slid across the ocean floor and crawled over the Black Pearl, claiming its kill.

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TBC! And I can say that in caps because it’s true. So, the plot is really starting to pick up in this chapter and you’ll start to see where I’m headed soon. Unfortunately, this will be the last hardcore smut scene you’ll see for a while, but I can’t tell you why!

I also wanted to thank danglingdingle, for the lovely review you sent me. There aren’t many reviews that make me as happy as yours did.