Notes: I've got this image in my mind of Jack going around with an almost-empty bottle of rum singing La Bamba at the top of his lungs - Yo no soy marinero! Yo no soy marinero, soy capitan, soy capitan, soy capitan! (Translated: I'm not a sailor! I'm not a sailor, I'm the captain, I'm the captain, I'm the captain!) So, if this fic isn't great... it was under this influence of Jack's singing. Oh yeah, and this fic'll be about three to four chapters long.

Warnings: Nothing so far, but in later chapters, there will be SLASH. Jack/Will slash! Slashy slash! Beware of the slasherific slashiness!

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all characters within belong to Disney, which, along with Hershey, will soon take over the world. Have a nice day!

This fanfic is dedicated to my cat, Rosella, because she's the prettiest, nicest, sweetest cat in the world and I love her to death and wouldn't trade her for a million dollars! *pets*

~*~

Will Turner was surprised to find himself in a pub.

He was even more surprised to find himself sitting down and calling over the bartender. He was utterly shocked to hear his own voice - Rum. Lots of rum, - and truly flabbergasted to find that there was money in his hand... and then, that there wasn't. However, he was quite pleased when the bartender set a bottle down in front of him that looked quite promising.

He uncorked it, took a long swig and grimaced.

Ye don't look like you're enjoying that much, lad, remarked the man he had sat next to. He was a gruff, bearded man, somewhat past his prime.

Will shrugged. It's rather strong. He took another sip.

Well, that would be the point, now wouldn't it? The man watched Will drink for a bit, then cut in again.

May I ask why you're drinking it if'n ye don't like it?

Will shrugged again. In memory. The stranger didn't seem to understand. There was someone I knew once who made me an offer that I refused, and now I wish I hadn't. So I'm drinking rum. Remembering him. The man's eyes clouded over.

I know all about regret, son. S why I'm here in the first place.

Will looked at him, but he didn't go on, so the blacksmith turned his attentions back to the bottle of rum. He took another sip and grimaced again. Then another sip, and another.

It's like this, he burst out suddenly. It's like this. This man has done the worst possible thing he could have done for me. He's shown me another life, a wonderful, exciting, dangerous life. And then he wants me to come back with him, but I don't, I stay, and it's a stupid choice, so I'm stuck in a pub that I didn't know existed drinking something I don't even like.

The man looked faintly startled, then turned at him, clearly confused.

An' why on this earth would ye turn down an offer like that? he demanded, sounding truly amazing at the stupidity of Will's decision.

It was Will's turn to be surprised.

I told you before, boy, I know a thing or two about regret.

Will took another long swig of rum before answering.

I had... there was... a woman. Elizabeth. I thought that... that it would be all right, as long as she still loved me. Thought I wouldn't miss it. But... it didn't work out between us. He glanced at the stranger, who was waiting for him to continue. I don't really want to talk about it.

The man nodded. I understand, lad.

Will gave a short laugh. Does that mean I don't get to hear why you know so much about regret?

That it does, mate, the stranger said smoothly, not missing a beat.

The bottle of rum was about halfway gone.

Will mused.

They were both silent for a moment before the man called over the bartender and ordered his own bottle of rum. Then -

Tell me boy, I'm curious, the man began. What exactly was this new life that ye turned down to be with your strumpet? Wouldn't be the sea, by any chance?

Will blinked in surprise. Actually, yes, it would be. My friend captains... a ship. Why?

I've been on the water before, lad. Addictive, it is. The bearded man sighed, almost wistfully. Wish I'd never... He paused. Left. Wish I'd never left.

Me neither, Will said in a voice overflowing with misery. He downed the last of his bottle. What's your name, anyhow?

The man held out his hand. Bill. Bill Turner, but ye can call me Bootstrap.

The empty bottle of rum slipped out of Will's hand and shattered on the pub floor.

~*~

All flames will be picked apart, MSTed and slapped up next chapter for a laugh. Constructive criticism is welcome, however.

Important note: The second chapter is already written, but it may prove impossible to post, because Fanfiction.net is being super-screwy and it now tells me that I have written no fanfics, so can therefore not update them. After the initial sobbing and screams of NO! IT CAN'T BE TRUE! I have resigned myself, and will just tell you about it.