Disclaimer: The characters are mine only in my greedy dreams...

Author's Note: You all know about Will in my universe, by now... he and Elizabeth sail with Jack. This one shot refers to Jack's Irish backstory that I have written several fics about... it was inspired by a challenge from gothicpiratevictoria, to whom it is dedicated! Pirate Cat

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"Five... four... three... two... one! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!"

One of the mighty Black Pearl's cannons fired, shaking Mr. Pintel and Mr. Ragetti to the very marrow of their merry bones, and they slammed mugs of rum together in the cannon bay and danced a jig, as they heard dancing feet and pistols firing on the decks above their heads... shouts and cheers of "HUZZAH!" resounded through the night as midnight had been counted down at random... they really had no idea what time it was, other than close to midnight by the position of the stars in the sky, but the captain of the ship had merely declared that it was time to shout and shoot all kinds of weapons, simply to make a great deal of gleeful noise.

All was quieted very quickly, however, when the startled crying of a toddler in the cabin of the first mate and the quartermaster second mate was heard above the din..."Little Will... Little Whelpie!" Captain Jack Sparrow hurried into the Turners' cabin as William and Elizabeth laughed after him, pouring mugs of rum for all... they knew that the noise would awaken the child, and they knew exactly how the captain would react at the tears of the wee one who was his godson... he reappeared upon the main deck with the curly haired image of William in his arms, clucking to him in sweetly gruff tones, and delicately drying the little boy's frightened tears... "Awww, now, now, whelpie! No tears for our littlest pirate, eh? You'll like th' noise once we teach ye how t' shoot a pistol, savvy? We'll start tomorrow! Happy New Year, laddie!"

As the rest of the crew settled into gambling and singing, story telling and more sedate celebrating of the birth of another year, William, Elizabeth and Jack settled into chairs that they pulled up around a barrel, a lantern glowing brightly above their heads as the ship rested quietly in an island cove ... her anchor had been dropped, and the warm Caribbean breezes blew fragrantly from the jungle beyond them... Little Will had stopped crying, and Elizabeth was now rocking him back to sleep, as William and Jack propped thier boots up onto the edge of the port side railing...

"It was a good year, was it not, Jack?" William grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his hair blew over his shoulders... his curly hair and his bandanna tails were fluttering around his tanned, handsome young face. His hand ran across his deeply scarred chest, as his sparkling warm eyes regarded Elizabeth and their son, who was now over a year old, and quite the handful in tandem with the captain.

Jack exuberantly downed another mug of rum, and belched happily, "It was th' best year a pirate could ask for, mate... plenty o' ships t' plunder, plenty o' rum, plenty o'... rum... ooo... I'm in need o' more rum..." The dark captain finally set his tankard down, and picked up one of the many bottles that he and William had brought above from the rum cellar for the occasion... they had even brought forth the rum of higher quality that William had hidden from his captain, much to Jack's chagrin.

"Jack, I think that Will means that we had a good year, not as pirates, but as friends and family..." Elizabeth giggled, as Jack muttered, "... it was a good year fer rum, too..." He tilted the bottle back and drank deeply... both of the Turners had acquired a taste for rum, but were still utterly amazed at Jack's ability to drink it like water...

Sighing in exasperation at Jack's single train of thought, she pondered aloud, "It was a good year... we have all been united upon the Black Pearl for over two years now, since Will rejoined us... it has been three years since we rescued you, Jack. We are all in good health, if we can keep an eye on our captain!" She stuck her foot over, and poked him in the side with her toe.

Will chuckled, as Jack swiveled his head around and declared, "I'm in good health! hiccup I haven't hurt meself, have only been hungover a few times, an' I haven't fallen overboard in months, I haven't gotten sick since I got th' bloody bothersome pneumonia last winter..."

Will interjected, "That was while we were in Ireland, visiting Janie over the winter, and you didn't fall overboard, you fell off of the dock and into the cove, on New Year's Day last year... you'd had too much rum..."

Jack's bronzed face became a bit sad, and he hiccuped, again. "We're all in good healf... I mean 'health'...hiccup... " His lower lip began to protrude in a pout, as the Turners looked at him in puzzlement. The captain looked all around them, his head becoming looser and looser as he consumed more rum... his voice slurred more thickly, as his eyebrows shot up, and he grinned sloppily, "... I wonder if I could trade in bein' th' Pirate Lord o' th' Caribbean fer ...hic...hiccup... bein' th' Pirate Lord o' Ireland... I miss me Janie..." he pouted again, and nearly fell off of his chair.

William reached over and gently patted Jack's wavering shoulder, helping him to sit up better, and said, softly, "There is no Pirate Lord of Ireland, Jack... "

The warm breezes blew over the deck, once more, as Jack grew silent... the only sounds were of the lapping of the water against the Pearl's hull, the laughing of the crew as Mr. Gibbs drew in his winnings over a game of dice, and the soft noise of Little Will contentedly sucking his thumb...

Jack hiccuped again, and struggled to keep his head up ... looking out over the beautiful moonlit sea, his expressive eyes became wistful as they gazed eastward toward a homeland of his innocent youth that had become his heart's homeland, once again, thanks to the young couple who had also adopted Eire as theirs.

"Well, mates... hiccup... if there ishn't a Pirate Lord o' Ireland, there oughtta be... I coul' be th' Pirate King o' Rum AND th' Pirate Lord o' Ireland!... le's call th' Brethren Court t'gether an'...Oi...no, not good... hiccup ...let's not..." and with that, the trinketed head of Captain Jack Sparrow lolled back, and he instantly started to snore...

The Turners shook their heads affectionately at their drunken captain, and William picked up the worn tricorn hat that had flopped to the deck and laid it over Jack's face... he picked up Jack's coat from remaining chair where it had been draped, and covered his friend up to his beaded, braided chin... leaning over to his beautiful wife, William softly kissed her, stroking his son's soft curls, and whispered, "Happy New Year, my love... I have never been happier in my life..." William leaned down, and kissed his boy as he slept in Elizabeth's arms.

Elizabeth's eyes shone up at her husband... life was good... "Happy New Year, my darling..."

"Haffy New... happy... hiccup... Happy rum! ...really bad eggs..." came Jack's husky, slurred voice from under the hat, as he belched, softly... his mouth dropped open, and he resumed snoring...

The timbers of the Pearl creaked, as if she, too, were saying, "Happy New Year to all!"

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