Elizabeth ducked into the Purple Squid's low door. She looked entirely too furtive, Jack Sparrow thought, momentarily turning from his mug of cheap beer, which sat on the ship-wreck salvaged boards that made up the bar in front of him. The pub was the haunt of sailors who were short on prize money, and had long ago been given up by even the cheapest prostitutes due to the patrons' inability to match their hourly rates. Thankfully, Elizabeth had the good sense to dress as a boy, but even so her fair skin and slender figure turned some heads. There were always some of that inclination among nautical types, Jack mused. She took a seat by him at the bar, much to the disappointment of a tall redhead at a nearby table who had leered as she went by. Jack whispered in her ear meaningfully, taking a care to smile lecherously at the other man before she nodded and the two walked to a more private table in the back of the bar.

Once alone, Jack affected a much more businesslike attitude. "Now then, what service of mine might you be requiring? If I'm not much mistaken, might it be the retrieval of one blacksmith recently turned piratical assistant?"

"Can you help me?" Elizabeth asked.

"Can I? Does Will Turner like effeminate hats? Of course I can, or my name's not Captain Jack Sparrow. The question, love, is will I? What inducements do you offer to tempt me to undertake such a venture? Hm? Persuade me." Jack leaned back in his chair and grinned devilishly.

"I have money," Elizabeth said, "a hundred pounds now, and more when I can sell some of my things,"

"Piffling," Jack dismissed her with a wave of his hand, "I've found bigger prizes on dinghys."

"Do you want prizes then? I'll do everything I can to get you a letter of marque. Think of it- all the colonial merchants at your mercy, the wealth of the New World in your pocket."

"Tempting," Jack nodded, twirling his beard and considering, "But the war with the colonies won't last forever. And the thought of being under the command of some ancient nob in a wig… perhaps the colonies know what they're about."

"Traitor."

"Sticks and stones, love. Come now, surely you've got something else in that pretty head of yours?"

"You owe him. Will saved your life."

"Probably. But you, conversely, were the one who led your friend Norrington straight to me, knowing full well his enthusiasm to throw a rope about my neck-- and dispatched all my rum. And, desperate as Will's fate may be, he is not, in fact, in mortal peril, beyond the chance that he dies of a broken heart. Transportation's not so bad, plenty of fresh sea air. He might like Australia- lots of feathers, you know," Jack said, gesturing vaguely about his head as if adorning invisible headgear.

"Jack, you know how little concern the Navy has for transported prisoners. He's as likely to die of fever as the gallows!" Her voice cracked.

She had not wanted to resort to this, though she had already put the plan into motion, anticipating Jack's reticence. She took a deep breath and considered one last time. She realized that she had made up her mind the day that Will had been taken. She should not be hesitating now considering her own welfare.

"Look, I can get you information, the movements and locations of every Navy ship in the Caribbean. You'd be ready for anything," she said.

Jack looked wary, "That is a fair prospect," he said, "if you can deliver."

She nodded resolutely. "I can."

"Traitor." He smiled and leaned closer, "So what's the plan?"

"It's a long shot, but you've relied on worse, I know. One of the admirals- he's the one in charge of intelligence matters- died last week. A certain ex-commodore we both know is positioned to take up the Admiral's post. After that, all I need is access."

"Are you sure you possess the constitution for such an undertaking? Turning spy on an old friend for the sake of a blacksmith's boy?

Her eyes blazed. "Of course. I should hardly be at risk. Norrington adores me. And were I his wife… I should be blameless."

"Though he may blame you for adultery when this plan of yours meets its end. Jack considered. "I always was rooting for him. As soon as you've got a wedding invitation for me, we can continue negotiations from there."

She blushed a little. "He's already proposed."

Jack was shocked. He knew that the man had been carrying a torch for years, but he had seen it sputter with the events on the day of his escape. He knew the eyes of a wounded man when he saw them. He raised an eyebrow.

"You're charming, my dear, but not that charming. The captain's certainly not a hot blooded fellow, and you've given him reason enough to shy away."

She grinned. Even the gravity of the situation could not take away the devilish pride she took in her conquest.

"He's hot blooded enough when, and where, it counts."

Jack took a breath to speak, paused, and the innuendo hit him.

"You seduced James Norrington?"

She nodded.

"But… but how? James Norrington, sticks to the straight and narrow like…like…me to a bottle of rum!" Jack stuttered

"I would have expected you of all people, Jack, to know one or two methods," Elizabeth said.

"Well, I suppose you'll make up for sweet William's lack of experience. Poor man. He's a lesson to us all to avoid the advances of attractive young ladies. When can I expect my intelligence reports?"

"Soon. As soon as I accept, the marriage will be arranged as soon as possible. James is very eager to avoid indiscretion should any developments proceed from our… indiscretion."

"Elizabeth, darling, you never cease to amaze."

"Thank you. After the wedding, I can meet you here every fortnight, or my maidservant will bring the appropriate documents in the event that I am unable to free myself from the societal obligations of an Admiral's wife. Do we have an accord?" Elizabeth was happy for the first time in weeks, although now grimly aware of the commitment she was making to her plan.

"We have an accord."

Clinking glasses together, Jack's conspicuously lighter than Elizabeth's, the conspirators drank and shook hands. Jack stood first, with only the slightest wobble. He took a few steps towards the door, then turned back to Elizabeth.

"One more thing, love," he said. "I meant it when I said I wanted an invitation."

Though he knew there had been no love lost between the Governor and Admiral Levy, on account of the former's refusal to allow the impressment of the Indiaman Cyclops' more able bodied hands into the Admiral's fleet, James had still thought it irreverent for Swann to host him a promotion dinner on such a morbid occasion. The death had been sudden. Still, he had appreciated the sentiment, and it afforded him another opportunity to see Elizabeth, towards whom his feelings were as mixed as ever. The enormity of his promotion, the rank towards which every post captain aspired, was dwarfed by the implications. He was now certain of a steady income, and could afford to keep a wife. He hated seeing her unhappy, and he remembered her smiles and laughter during their evening at the symphony. She teased him with hope while he rationalized it all away. A darker, more thrilling thought also plagued him. As admiral, he had the power to make her happiness almost certain, should he choose to exercise it and recall the traitor William Turner. It was an action against all logic and reason, but James' reliance on those virtues had been heavily shaken by his own transgressions. She was a gentlewoman, and he had, of course, proposed, but he was unsure whether or not that was sufficient for stupidity of his degree.

James Norrington was wracked with indecision. He ran the events of that night through his head a thousand times and came to no conclusion.

The dinner had come to it's conclusion, followed by coffee and cards. Governor Swann had retired early, which, considering his earlier efforts at arranging a match, spoke miles. Soon the other guests had left Elizabeth and him alone in the parlor. He vowed to say something pleasant. He praised the good nature and rare human courtesy of the Captain of the Matilda, and made every reassurance that Will would make it through his ordeal alive, though to what end he could not say. He realized only when he saw the tears in her eyes that he had chosen an indelicate topic of conversation. But she wouldn't take the handkerchief he offered. She turned her head away- he still remembered every second-and he reached out a hand to wipe away the wet trail on her cheek. There had been so many moments in his life to reach out and touch her, and yet he never had.

He knew now why. James was not, as many suspected, a prude, though he rarely acted on his baser impulses. Acquaintance with men of science kept him away from the lower sort of whore that many naval men frequented, and the medically unpleasant consequences. But his thoughts were anything but pure when he felt the impossibly faint brush of her lips on his fingers, and could taste the faint salt of tears when he kissed her mouth. He had never started down that path because he knew he was too weak to stop himself. Well, he thought bitterly, at least he could be proud of the accuracy of his self assessment.

Jack Sparrow stood in the back of the church with a small group of people who looked considerably less prosperous than the crowd of ornately bedecked ladies and gentlemen sitting in the pews. He assumed he was among the lesser servants of the Swann household, who merited invitations to the day's happy occasion, but not, alas, chairs. He shifted his aching legs a little to stretch. Looking down at his restless feet he frowned at the buckled shoes he wore over white stockings. They did nothing for his stringy, thin calves. Norrington's, by contrast, were thick and well muscled, and complemented by the tight silk. Jack wondered if they might be fake, but dismissed the idea when they twitched realistically. The small tic was the newly appointed admiral's only sign of nervousness as Elizabeth walked into the sanctuary.

Jack had never before attended a wedding, and was not familiar with the usual look of radiance that graces the visage of the archetypal bride. When the gentlewomen saw this bride's fierce eyes, determined gaze, and firmly set chin, they whispered that she looked positively savage. Captain Sparrow merely saw the same Elizabeth that he had always known.

Fighting the current of turned eyes, Jack looked again at James. Admiral Norrington did not smile, but the joyful light in his eyes was enough to send an unexpected wave of pity rushing over Jack as he remembered the true reasons for his marriage.

Poor blighter, he thought, I hope he knows what he's getting into.

Author's notes

What's this? An update? Shocking, I know, you'd probably expected that this piece had been abandoned. Which is semi accurate, but none of my stories are ever completely done for. So for now, please enjoy this chapter, and I apologize for the wait and appreciate your patience!

La Romanesque