A Note from TurtleHeart: i know i should finish my other stories online, really i do, but i've been debating whether or not to put this one up for quite a while now and since i am in such a Captain Jack mood right now, i couldn't resist mate. Life was well again. A year ago, everything horrible ended and the battle for the seas was no longer a care to anyone. The Navy kept to themselves since enough pirates were dead. Funding pirate hunts was such a waste. What pirates there were kept quiet and found work on land while continuing to pirate.
Only one pirate remained as he had been for years. Jack Sparrow didn't bother to change his name, find work on land, abandon life at sea or piracy. No, he continued to do what he did best and that was pirate. Of course, it didn't matter anymore seeing as he was immortal, although no one believed him but his own crew.
The name Jack Sparrow and the ship Black Pearl was just as much part of the past as the battle once taking place in the Caribbean. Everyone knew Jack. Marines saw Jack and walked away from him. Jack Sparrow was a lost worry to the world.
For Jack, life was just beginning. He was immortal and the possibilities endless. His only complaint was surrendering Aqua de Vida to Barbossa in return for the Pearl. He knew he was going to be fighting for the rights to his ship until the end of time and even then he would fight for his Pearl.
Life was good, but it wasn't perfect. He felt something missing inside him. It wasn't Will or Elizabeth oddly. He knew what became of them. Will and his father were together on the ship. Elizabeth found her cousin on a small, secluded island where she would raise her and Will's child while writing to him every week of her progress. And eventually he knew they would be together.
No, life was not perfect. Jack Sparrow's hunts were not over. There was one last hunt he wanted— needed to accomplish. Ever since he saw his reasoning for this venture of his, until now, he never had courage to do so, which was odd because he faced death before. As he told Will once, "death has a way of shifting one's priorities". He never quite understood what that comment meant until recently.
Breathing the sweetness of Tortuga once more, the dock smelling of the rotting scent even. A man could never visit Tortuga too many times in a single year.
"Mr. Mullroy, Mr. Murtogg, Cotton, Marty at the helm!" he ordered.
The four men raced in front of Jack awaiting orders.
Jack pointed to the four of them. "I have unfinished business and a hunt to accomplish while here. We will only be here for one night. I leave the Pearl in your watch. If anybody approaches her or even looks at her shoot him," he ordered.
"With a gun?" asked Murtogg.
"Yes, with a gun," replied Jack in his usual annoyed tone while responding to two of them.
"Well you could shoot him with a cannon. I was just making sure," added Murtogg quickly.
Jack rolled his eyes as he made his way onto main deck. He happened to pass by Ragetti and Pintel overhearing a comment that made him glee with joy.
"Wot do you think came of Captain Barbossa?" asked Ragetti.
"I don't know. That island isn't proper for a marooning," said Pintel.
At that comment Jack swung around causing his entire person to swing and jangle with him. "Of course it's proper. He has whatever Elizabeth didn't burn. I'm sure there are a few bottles of rum, one or two, and a palm tree or two to keep his shade. I did hear monkey tastes like chicken from somewhere and he can boil the salt out of the seawater. He'll be fine. I left him with a pistol as promised. He is immortal so if really wanted to get off that island he could just walk the ocean floor," he told him.
"Not so bad when you put it that way," noted Ragetti.
Pintel looked at him with a roll of his eyes.
Jack wandered through Tortuga, breathing the sweet scent in deeply. He came to miss this little island more than he had before. It was barely a year ago he was last here. First on his stops was a familiar tavern of his, none other than the Faithful Bride.
A smile widened on his face as soon as he set foot inside. The right corner of the bar was engulfed in a fight. The rest of the miscreants and filthy men either watched, drank, or engaged play with a woman. This was definitely his Tortuga. Dancing his way through it all without a single scratch on him of course, he sat at a stool given up by a man to engage in the fight.
"Thanks very much," he hollered over the fight.
"What can I get you sir?" asked one Joshamee Gibbs.
Jack's mouth dropped and eyes widened as he looked at Gibbs.
Gibbs seemed just as surprised to find him here alive. "Jack, what are you doing here?"
"You need to get your questioning of the questioning of who is here right," noted Jack. He pointed at Gibbs. "What are you doing here?"
"After I left with Scarlett and Giselle I realized women were not for me. You left already and I've been here earning an honest living everyday since," replied Gibbs. He left for a moment to give Jack a bottle of rum. "On the house."
"Thanks mate," said Jack. He offered his friend the first drink, which Gibbs gladly accepted. "After I tracked down Aqua de Vida and drank from her clear waters, I got my ship back, although I had to give Hector my water too then I mutinied him on Rumrunner's Island."
"Well, fair enough," admitted Gibbs, leaning his arm on the table. He ducked his head as a mug flew over him.
At the other end of the bar, men called loudly for more ale and rum.
While his friend filled in their requests, Jack didn't drink the rum. He twisted the cool glass between his palms. His eyes were narrow and low in thought.
Gibbs returned to Jack seeing this expression on his face. "What's gotten into you Jack Sparrow? First, you cut your hair and pull it behind your head in a bow. Then, you take away your famous kohl eyes and clothes. Now what are you planning?"
"Is she here?" asked Jack quietly.
"Who?" wondered Gibbs, looking left from right.
Jack looked at him obviously. "Anamaria."
"No," replied Gibbs. "She left not long after you did. I don't know where she went Jack."
"I'll find her then," said Jack.
"When are you going to do it?" asked Gibbs.
"Which part?" Jack asked. He counted on his fingers as he spoke aloud. "The apologizing, confessing my love, making love, convincing her to sail with me as my first mate, or the marrying her part?"
"In that order," replied Gibbs.
"To answer your question yes," replied Jack. "I'm almost perfect. I need someone in my life."
"If you do this you might have a child in the near future and you won't be able to sail the sea for quite some time and you won't be as free as you are now again," warned Gibbs.
Jack's eyes lowered in disappointment. "The world changed Josh. It's right time I change with it."
Fists beating and shouting caused Gibbs to groan as he buried his face into his arms. "Jack, take me with you. Please."
"Come on then," said Jack as he stood, continuing to drink the bottle.
Gibbs went to the men pounding their fists on the table. He removed the apron from his head and gave it to the first man he saw.
"You're in charge now," he said. Wiping his hands of the matter, he literally danced his way beside Jack from the tavern. "If I never see that place again it won't be soon enough."
Behind them gunshots fired as the typical Faithful Bride fight began.
As promised, finding it difficult to go back on his word since living again, Jack remained in Tortuga. He knew there were well deserving men aboard his ship that needed one night to do what he wanted in Tortuga. He and Gibbs sat in the great cabin talking and catching up on a few things as well as finding the destination where his compass was pointing.
Gibbs pointed at the map. "It goes straight through Charles Town."
"Carolina," noted Jack. An expression of wonder consumed his face. "That doesn't sound like her."
"You know she won't be happy to see you Jack," said Gibbs.
"And why not?" wondered Jack.
"Well, she did leave the Pearl in a bit of a fuss and she did say she hoped you would die before she sees you again. Remember?" asked Gibbs.
Jack shook his head. "No, to her I don't remember. Aye, to me I remember, but she doesn't have to know that."
"Why now Jack? Why are you going after her now?" wondered Gibbs.
"Because, after I was left to die by Kraken and brought back by up is down, my priorities shifted. Recent events changed the only plan I ever made in my life so now I have a new plan. The world changed Josh. I already told you I have to change with it," replied Jack.
"I must say, you have grown up," admitted Gibbs.
"Dying does that I suppose," said Jack softly. "I wonder how much Will has grown."
"It's been a year Jack. I thought you'd've moved on from that long ago," noted Gibbs.
Jack's head tilted to the side as he followed the mouth of the empty bottle with the tip of his middle finger. "Not all things are easily accepted mate."
Gibbs nodded his head in agreement. "The past is the past. It happened already. A man can change only his future."
"I know," said Jack with a smile.
That was exactly his intentions. He was not only changing his future but of the woman he longed to marry, love, have children, and be together forever with.
Since the moment he bartered the compass from Tia Dalma by trade of one night together, he thought it would never repay the time he spent with the mystic. He admitted to himself of how wrong he just was.
His beautiful compass led him into the Charles Town Harbor and to an inn and tavern named Sprigim's Inn and Tavern. In his mind that was the most unruly, shameful name for anything. Shipwreck Island, Cove, and City had more class and life than Sprigim's Inn and Tavern.
Shaking it off, he walked inside with Gibbs.
Not believing he was doing this, Gibbs walked casually to the counter.
"Come to spend the night my friend?" the man behind the counter asked.
Gibbs nodded. He pointed to Jack. "Him as well."
The man took a pen in his hands. "Can I get your names?"
"Joshamee Gibbs and John Teague," replied Gibbs.
"And how long will you two be staying?"
Jack stepped forward for this one. "Well, my ship was damaged and we need repairs. I do not quite know the time it will take to repair me ship."
"Ah, one of you. Well, we get your kind quite often. Each night you are here you must pay the three pound fee. You see these rooms are kept in a more clean matter and a higher fee because only good men can afford to remain here. Since you are sailors of decent manor compared to those I have seen before and everywhere else is filled for your kind you two get our best offer. The entire corner of the west wing is yours. Usually that is reserved for the more wealthy of beings, but you two don't look so bad after all," said the attendant.
Gibbs paid both fees received the key and was led up there.
Jack had to admit it reminded him of his wing in the Cove. Three bedrooms spawned from the main parlor room where couches, desks, a fireplace, and private veranda was placed.
"Not bad for being a couple of pirates," noted Gibbs.
"I've seen better," admitted Jack.
"Where is she then?" asked Gibbs.
Jack smiled. "You gave me a drink and now it is my turn to repay your on the house bottle of rum."
Nearing eleven at night Jack and Gibbs made their way into the tavern connected to the inn. The high fee was worth every shilling. Because they were guests, they had the honor of night or day privileges in the tavern while it was closed to the general public.
Jack's feet stopped as she saw her handing a few sailors there drinks. Her glossy black hair was braided behind her head, chocolate skin color more healthy and beautiful than he had ever seen. The cream sleeves of her red bodice dress were rolled to her elbow, exposing the rich, darkness of her body. The apron tied behind her waist, showing the world her thin body. Her eyes were warm and bright as they always were and her smile was flawless and bright.
Inside, his heart pounded blood through his body. This blood was in love with that woman, the woman he was determined to marry.
Everything inside of him suddenly stopped as she locked eyes with him.
Her smile, bright eyes, and cheerful manor became cold, regretful, and a simple shake of her head told him her answer. She collected mugs and began washing them.
Ignoring what she signed to him, Jack, now alone as Gibbs sat by the window with sailors, who he already became aquatinted with, mustered courage and dignity. He sat in a chair at the bar behind her, patiently waiting. Although he knew he shouldn't have, his eyes followed every contour of her body over and over again.
Finally, she turned around.
"What are you doing here Jack Sparrow?" she asked.
Jack shrugged. "What is the only reason for me to be on land Anamaria?"
"I don't know Jack. Either your precious Black Pearl has finally broken down again or you want rum. Perhaps you want to break the heart of another young woman," replied Anamaria, her voice just as cold and angry as it was the last time he heard her speak.
"Well I would like some rum since you mention it," noted Jack in as much respect and honor he could.
Anamaria's lower lip curled. Her eyes narrowed as she left in front of Jack. Not a moment later, she delivered Jack a full bottle of rum and threw a mug behind her as she continued washing.
To her delight, but not to Jack's the mug smacked him square in the forehead.
"That hurt you know," Jack told her.
"Fair enough," said Anamaria. She turned her head around. "But we are not even. You can do nothing in the world to earn my forgiveness."
Jack raised the mouth of the bottle. "Is that a challenge?"
Anamaria stopped washing. She dried her hands on her apron, walked from behind the bar, and to Jack. A small, soft smile was on her face.
With a smile coming on his face as well, Jack turned his body to face her. He seemed happy enough to be close to her again.
"Jack Sparrow, what am I going to do with you?" asked Anamaria sweetly.
The smile on her face widened as the back of her hand came across Jack's cheek, the smack echoing in the near empty room.
Across the room, the other patrons, including Gibbs, stopped conversing to observe what caused such a smack.
Jack's face twisted into a ridiculous expression of pain. He pressed his palm against his nose as he felt warm liquid dripping.
"I wish you good luck on your challenge," said Anamaria.
"And wot if I win?" wondered Jack, his voice higher.
Anamaria stopped walking to turn her head. "Then you get the girl." She walked to the door where she pointed. "Please, Jack, I don't want to wash your blood from the floor I just cleaned an hour ago."
Nodding, Jack took the bottle of rum into his other hand. He walked to Anamaria and paused beside her.
"Good night," he told her.
Her response was simply pointing once more to the hall between the tavern and inn.
Jack trudged from beyond the doorway. Not two moments later, the door was slammed shut. He continued trudging to his room where he immediately took a damp rag to his nose while removing his tunic.
Gibbs walked in the room quite hurriedly. He shut the door and immediately went to Jack to remove the rag. "Well, she got you good mate. Her hand is worse than Scarlett and Giselle."
"I know," said Jack. "But that is why she is the only soul who can put up with me own."
Having to agree Gibbs nodded before walking to the window where he sat and watched the night.
Bright and early, Jack Sparrow walked down the stairs from the Inn to the hall separating the two buildings. He walked with a smile on his face and his head held high, proud of his black and blue, swelling nose. Every odd look given to him by every passing man, he felt his heart becoming more and more in love with her.
Already, Sprigim's Inn and Tavern bustled with life in the day. He wandered into the tavern. A single footstep through the doorway and his eyes darted around the room. No Anamaria. She wasn't there. He sighed, his mouth forming into a pout, but since he was here breakfast was being served for the day.
He sat by the window across from his companion.
When the maid came with their food Jack looked at her with a smile. "Do you know when Anamaria will be stopping by?"
"Jack Sparrow, I thought she told you to stay away."
"And you are lassy?" wondered Jack.
"Lucinda," replied the maid.
"How is it you know me?" asked Jack.
Lucinda turned her head to look around the room. She lowered herself closer to Jack. "Ana sometimes doesn't stop talking about you. We know everything there is to know about Jack Sparrow."
"Not everything luv. Trust me," said Jack.
"I do know she loves you," whispered Lucinda. "And she'll be here before five tonight."
Jack nodded. He slipped a piece of eight on the tray.
"And what do you propose we do until then?" wondered Gibbs.
"What pirates do best of course," relied Jack. "Drink, pillage, and plunder."
"Ah, a treasure hunt then," said Gibbs.
"I need more money for my Anamaria," said Jack.
"And where do you propose we go?" wondered Gibbs.
"This is Charles Town Mr. Gibbs and I am Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack told him. "There must be someone with loose change on his person or a careless shop vendor."
Gibbs looked at Jack. "We need to talk Jack Sparrow."
"About?" wondered Jack.
"Come back with me to the room," said Gibbs.
Jack rolled his eyes but followed. He walked in behind Gibbs and shut the door.
Immediately, Gibbs stood Jack in front of the mirror. "Take a look at yourself Jack. What do you see?"
"I see me," said Jack. "And I look very handsome."
"Jack, look at yourself closer," Gibbs told him. "Now what do you see?"
Jack's eyes slowly scanned his person from his chest and above in the mirror. "A dark skinned, filthy sailor, who looks like he should be working in the fields rather than wandering around the streets of Charles Town among the whiter of humans in this world."
"And?" wondered Gibbs.
"Someone who doesn't belong here," replied Jack.
"And?" wondered Gibbs.
"A pirate," whispered Jack.
"I don't want you going out there Jack," Gibbs told him. "When we sailed into port did you notice the faces that turned? Did you notice the people staring at you when we walked here?"
"Josh, I ignore the world. I've always been stared at like I'm more worthless than trash in the gutter. I don't care anymore. This is who I am and I'm not going to change," said Jack.
"You won't be allowed into any decent establishments looking like that," said Gibbs.
"Like wot!" cried Jack. "I know Mr. Gibbs. I know wot color my skin is. I know what I look like and how I talk. I know how I act. Through me life I've seen every stare possible that can be stared at me. I'm riff raff nonsense that doesn't belong in Charles Town. Trust me Josh. I know I can't go into any vendor I want. I know the people here will treat me terribly because my skin is darker. I've seen the slaves already and I wonder how many of them were torn from their families for money or if they were born on a plantation into slavery never having tasted sweet freedom. Why do you think I wear the mark Josh? I was branded because I released those slaves. Anamaria is no different from me. Our skin colors are very similar. The only thing that saved me from being down there with her was a bloody Navy uniform and a piece of paper. I am no more important than the slaves wandering town for their masters. I know this. Do not ever remind me again!"
Gibbs sighed heavily and nodded. "All right Jack."
"I don't know about you mate, but I need money to get her away from this Hell she's living. You can stay here or help me," said Jack.
"Someone has to watch your back I suppose," sighed Gibbs.
Jack grabbed his hat and coat. He stood in front of the mirror then walked out of the room.
Gibbs sighed heavily. He rolled his sleeves to his elbow then ran after Jack Sparrow.
Late in the middle of the night, Jack lay in his bed staring at the reflecting moon on the ceiling. He shifted to set his left arm behind his head. His eyes moved to his right arm, gazing at the mark.
There was no difference between him and the slaves. He saw the look of longing and envy in their eyes as they watched him walk around town freely, laughing and drinking with his Caucasian friend. They clearly knew he wasn't a slave; he was dressed too nicely.
Though he told himself he wouldn't allow it to get to him, it was getting to him. The looks of horror as eyes came across him and stares and glares from the wealthier men and women of the town returned to haunt him. He hated those expressions. All his life he knew he was too different to be one with society.
The faces he never forgot were those when he attended schooling at eight years old in London. He didn't know what friends were until Bill came along. If he hadn't been taught sailing since he could walk, he never would have been accepted into the Royal Navy because of his skin and today reminded him again who he was.
He wasn't the stories and legends. Technically, he was not in the same Age as the greatest of pirates. No one knew who the real Jack Sparrow was. There were tales and legends of him and the Black Pearl, but apparently the rest of the world didn't care anymore. He wasn't great or legendary.
He was the son of an Irish pirate, abandoned at age eight, branded when he was nineteen, ill, sickly young man fighting for his life most of the time, captain without a ship wandering the world for eleven years, and never forgot the words spoken to him or the expressions.
Sleep impossible for him, Jack threw the blanket aside. He slipped a thick tunic over his head as he walked from the room. Quietly, he walked down the hall and into the candlelit tavern.
Wanting nothing more than to be alone, he sat at the window with his warm ale. Occasionally, he reached on the plate to consume another piece of the fresh rye bread.
The flame in front of him intriguing, he watched the light flicker. He blew on it and watched it lose its composure then form back to flame again. Never before had he realized his life was similar to this flame. He was fine until something disturbed him or tried to move him. Once overcoming the obstacle, he moved on and continued burning.
"Does that hurt?"
"Hm," Jack muttered as he lifted his head.
The attendant was staring at his hand with wide eyes.
Jack looked at his hand. His fingers were consumed within the fire as he played with the flame. "Not so much. I have more painful things in life than this."
"I thought you could use this," said the attendant as he handed Jack a new drink. "It's a finer alcohol we have here."
Nodding his gratitude, Jack set the cup on the table in front of him. His eyes turned black to the color of the attendant's skin then his skin.
"Hardly a difference," he muttered to himself.
"Beg pardon?" wondered the attendant.
"Wot's your name lad?" asked Jack as he leaned against the window.
"Christian."
Jack shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Appropriate. You are given the name Christian yet you are not treated like one. I can see that already. Did you know your parents or were you born a servant?"
Christian sat in front of Jack at the table. Clearly, he was not going to receive anyone but this single man tonight. "I was born here in Charleston along with my sisters and brothers. My mother died when little Charles was born."
"Were you born a servant mate?" wondered Jack.
"Aye," whispered Christian.
"Do you believe you will ever be free to do what you want?" asked Jack.
"No," replied Christian immediately. "I was born on a plantation and I know I will be buried fifty yards from the room I was born in." Jack nodded. "And you?"
"I thought I was going to be buried in Ireland with the rest of my family. Eight years after I was born my father abandoned me because he couldn't raise me himself after me mother died. When I was thirteen, I was exiled from my own family. I've lived everyday as it comes to me not knowing what to expect," said Jack. He looked at the skin comparisons again. "If the sea didn't run through me veins and gifted me, I would no more free than you my friend."
"Do you feel you are free?" wondered Christian.
"I only feel free when me eyes are shut, the sea breeze blowing through my clothes, pulleys and sails flapping in the wind, and nothing around me but ocean and sky. The sight of one person, reminds me who I am," said Jack.
"Can I ask what that is?" said Christian.
"Someone who should be the property of another person," said Jack. He looked at his companion again. "If the opportunity arose would you want to be free to feel my freedom?"
"On a ship with you?" wondered Christian, his eyes lightening.
"I can arrange it," said Jack.
The light in Christian's eyes dulled as he slumped. His joy faded from him, however, a smile widened on his face. "I cannot leave here sir. Although I am property to a man with pale skin, I cannot abandon my family. I have several brothers and sisters. My life is worth while because of them. When I want nothing more than my freedom, I simply have to listen to my sisters laugh while sewing and brothers tell stories while they sort out the cotton of the day. I'm free to be with my family and that is the freedom I long for."
Understanding, somehow understanding, Jack nodded. All his life, he thought freedom to a slave was to be his own master. This definition of freedom was the true definition of freedom. It wasn't what he thought, but he did know the different definitions of freedom.
"I actually understand that," he said aloud.
"Only our race does," said Christian.
Jack looked at him. "Well, if you and I are part of the same race then you share my freedom as well."
"Anamaria usually arrives every night before dinner, early evening," said Christian as he stood. He walked a few paces then turned his head. "She's in love with you Jack Sparrow. She has since the day you saved her life."
"That's why I'm here mate," said Jack.
Christian smiled as he returned to washing the room.
Jack returned to his room, finding sleep easy to come by.
Right on schedule, Anamaria walked into the tavern.
From his usual table in the corner, Jack raised his head to look at her. His eyes fell to a different sight. A tiny hand was clutching Anamaria's finger.
The little girl trailed her in her scarlet dress. Her dark waves flowed down her back under the braid keeping her bangs from her face. The color of her skin was as dark as Anamaria's, however, she did not appear to have the Carib appearance. Instead, her face was long and thin, her fingers, Jack saw from his table, stretched far across her mother's hand. Her high cheekbones accentuated her huge, warm brown eyes. Her little frame glided along the table with ease. The little girl looked nothing like Anamaria.
Jack's face widened with a smile when Anamaria swung the girl around before setting her on the bar table. His eyes lowered only for a moment then took back to staring at the little one.
"Alright Jack, which do we want to do first. Give her the horse to ride on the beach or send her the basket of flowers?" wondered Gibbs as he sat down.
"Lily," replied Jack, his eyes still staring at the little one.
"The flowers then," said Gibbs. Noticing Jack's eyes, he followed the pirate's dead lights. Even a smile widened on his face. "She's quite adorable that girl."
"Beautiful. She's an image of her father," whispered Jack.
"You know her father?" wondered Gibbs.
Jack nodded. "Mm hm,"
"And her mother?" wondered Gibbs.
"Anamaria," replied Jack.
"Anamaria has a child?" cried Gibbs.
"Shh," Jack spat, covering his friend's mouth.
Both looked to the side seeing Anamaria glaring at the two of them.
"Yes, that little girl is Anamaria's," replied Jack.
"Jack, she has a child. You can't possible take the child away from her father," said Gibbs.
"The little girl's father died two years ago," Jack told him.
"Ah, I see," replied Gibbs. He looked at Jack curiously. "How do you know?"
"I was there at the end," said Jack.
"Do you know the girl's name?" asked Gibbs.
"Lily," replied Jack. "I bet my life to the Devil her name is Lily Rose."
"Please don't make any more deals with the Devil Jack. I thought you would have learned your lesson by now," said Gibbs.
"Mr. Gibbs, why else would I be here?" Jack snapped.
"Do you two want anything?" a female snapped.
"What do you think Mr. Gibbs?" wondered Jack.
"Warm bread would be nice Miss Anamaria," said Gibbs.
A half smile widened on Anamaria's face with his reply. Her face went cold when she turned to Jack who was looking past her. She followed his gaze to the little girl on the bar table giving a man his drink. She also saw the smile on Jack's face.
"Jack," she called.
"I'll have something to drink," replied Jack.
"Rum I'll assume," said Anamaria.
"Coconut milk and coffee?" wondered Jack.
"You still drink that?" asked Anamaria.
"When the opportunity is opportune," replied Jack.
Nodding curiously, Anamaria turned to walk away. She turned her head. "She's my daughter Jack."
"I know," replied Jack.
Anamaria turned. She walked behind the bar.
"Muma," called Lily.
"What is it Muirnín?" wondered Anamaria. Lily outstretched her arms. "I can't hold you now Lily, but would you like to give someone his bread?"
A smile widened on the girl's face as she nodded rapidly. Such excitement consumed her. The room seemed to liven and feed from her excitement.
Anamaria set Lily on the floor. She set the bowl of bread in Lily's hand and made sure she had a tight hold on the bowl. Gently, she pushed the girl along to deliver the bread to Gibbs. She watched as Jack's eyes widened and his composure soften with each of Lily's steps. His eyes never left the little girl.
Lily wandered through the tables and the people with concentration on her face. Her eyes moved between bread and path in front of her. She dropped the bread once and was not very happy after. Slowly and gently, she set the bowl on the middle of the edge.
"Hew bwead," she said.
The smile on Jack's face widened. Her voice was small, but words clear. Even when his coffee and coconut milk was presented, he still continued to gaze at the little girl who was smiling back at him and giggling while holding her hands and rocking back and forth.
"Do you want a piece?" asked Gibbs, falling to her charms.
Lily's head nodded rapidly. She outstretched one hand palm up to receive her little token of affection.
"Lily, what do you say luv?" wondered Anamaria.
"Tank 'ou," said Lily before shoving the piece in her mouth.
"She's," began Jack. His mouth moved into many words but never the right one describing her. "Perfect."
"Yes," said Anamaria. "That's from her father of course."
Jack and Anamaria shared a small smile to each other.
Anamaria opened her mouth to say something. She suddenly took Lily's hand and turned on her heels to walk away from them.
"Jack, how well did you know that little girl's father?" asked Mr. Gibbs.
A smile widened across Jack's face as he turned to him. "Better than any other man on this earth."
"Jack," said Gibbs, his voice quite impatient.
"Josh, I am Lily's father," whispered Jack Sparrow.
Joshamee Gibbs's face widened as he found it difficult to turn away from him. He pointed at Jack.
"Ana knows too," said Jack.
"You and Anamaria?" wondered Gibbs.
Jack nodded happily. "I came back here for a reason Josh."
"Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?" wondered Gibbs.
"If you told me what you are thinking I'm going to do then I can tell you if it is what I'm thinking of doing or not," hinted Jack.
"Marry her," replied Gibbs softly.
"Only if she wants to," said Jack.
"Just propose right here. She'll say yes," Gibbs told him.
Jack shook his head. "It's not that simple mate. She doesn't trust me and I am the reason she doesn't trust me. I have to prove to her I've come back for her. She's the one who placed the gamble not me. All I have to do is earn her trust and forgiveness."
"The way you two were looking at each other gives me the impression that won't take much," noted Gibbs.
"I've hurt her badly more than once. It's going to take more than you think," said Jack.
"For her to forgive you… or for you to forgive yourself?" wondered Gibbs, asking the correct question.
Acknowledging that was the correct question, Jack simply pointed at him and nodded.
"Jack, and which one is that. Her or you?" wondered Gibbs.
"Me Josh, me," replied Jack.
"I think she may have forgiven you about what you did to her," said Gibbs.
"She hasn't," Jack told him confidently. "You saw her face when she walked off the ship. She wanted to kill me and you know it. I wanted to kill myself, but I knew it was the only thing I could do to save her and my child. I told her off because she told me she was pregnant. I knew my thirteen years were up and she was the last person I wanted on that ship. She is still the last person I want to see dead. I don't think I can live without her anymore."
"Well, that makes more logical sense than simply screaming at her to send her away because you didn't love her and 'it can't be on my ship' as you once said which I only assume could have been Lily. You are a good man Jack Sparrow," said Gibbs.
"I know," admitted Jack proudly. His pride faded as he slumped in the chair. "Perhaps too good of a man for my liking."
"But you are good," said Gibbs.
"Well, I'm not as good as our favorite whelp," said Jack confidently.
Gibbs nodded his head at that comment.
Jack finished his coffee and stood on his feet. He placed his hat on his head. "Well, are you coming Mr. Gibbs? We have to find flowers for Ana and Lily."
"I thought we were getting flowers for only Anamaria," noted Gibbs.
"Of course I have to find lilies for my Lily," said Jack as he walked very dancily from the tavern.
Sitting on the bar, Lily tugged on the loose sash on her mother's dress.
"Yes Lily Rose," said Anamaria as she turned with a mug in her hand she was drying.
Lily pointed to the back of one Jack Sparrow. "Who 'e muma?"
"That would be Jack luv," said Anamaria.
"Me 'ike J'ck," Lily told her mother.
Anamaria turned her back to Lily to shut her eyes. Of all things to say to him— of all people Lily took a liking to…it had to be Jack Sparrow. Yes, it was quite appropriate, but Anamaria wasn't sure if she was ready to have another relationship with Jack Sparrow. Every relationship the two of them shared ended tragic; the last of them breaking her heart with his words and cruelty.
She turned around to gaze at the faces in the room. Confusion passed across her face, as he wasn't in the room anymore. Hearing Lily giggle at a patron who gave her the last of his bread, she turned her head. It wasn't herself she was worried about. She was more worried about what Jack would do to Lily. Jack had done much to hurt her, but if he ever hurt Lily…
Shaking her head, Anamaria looked at Lily. He wouldn't harm her. She wasn't going to let Jack hurt her like she herself had been hurt by him.