A/N I've always been a bit of a Sparrabeth shipper.. But, Sparrington got a hold of me and wont let go. Seeing as I actually have never written a Sparrabeth story, I decided to commemorate Sparrington by actually writing something! Hope you like it, more implications then anything in this.

-------------------

Will had to move quickly to put his plan into action. Though stopping by to see the new Commodore had done nothing for Will's mood, the soldiers had given him a valuable piece of information. Sparrow. Norrington seemed quite adamant in not letting the man be heard. Or spoken too. Or really seen at all.

Maybe the guy really did have a grudge against pirates.

Slowing to a fast walk, Will tried to blend in. It was rather difficult seeing as everyone else was wearing a uniform. But he hadn't been stopped, so he took that as a good sign. It had to be a good sign, right?

Sparrow would take him to the Pearl and he could find Elizabeth and-

No, keep your head out of the clouds. You need to be clear when you're talking to a pirate.

Will bumped into something. The something was decidedly alive. Looking up, his heart sank when he realized who it was.

James Norrington stared down at Will, blinking several times before speaking. "Good day Mr. Turner, and remember, half-barrel."

He was gone before Will could piece together half of what the man said. Luckily for him he had been too confused to notice the Commodore was in fact, leaving the very place Will was headed. It would have definitely confused him further.

Several minutes prior…

"Well 'ello. Finally come to see me have ye?" Jack casually leaned against the bars of his prison. He was currently sitting, and looking blandly up at his company. The bone he held in one hand had been waved in greeting.

James took the bone from the man's hand, determined to stare at it rather than him. "Why did you come here?"

"Well dearie, ye weren't answering my letters." His voice was decidedly sarcastic, but James could hear the hurt anyway.

He tapped the bone against the metal bars, still refusing to look at the other man. "Was it you?"

"That brought 'em here? No." Jack leaned back on his hands, staring through the bars thoughtfully. "Ye really like her Jamsey?"

James was weak- and damn it all he knew it too- he looked at Jack. "Yes."

Jack snorted. "Ye're always been a terrible liar Jamsey."

Damn that man- if he wasn't always right. Drawing his sword, he ignored Jack's curious look. Using the rather well crafted tool, he crudely began to saw through the bone. Once the gouge was to his liking, he sheathed his sword. Smashing the bone against the metal bars, James handed one splintered end to the man in cell.

"Get out."

Jack watched him leave, expression saddening as the man got farther away.