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Happy christmas everyone!

The young man was smiling widely and the captain wondered for a moment wether his cheeks had been frozen that way during the night. Jack laid himself back against the rail and observed his triumphant grin. « Som'thin' good happen'd that I should know about ? » Kurt lifted his gaze to his captain and his smile widened – if that was at all possible. « Aye. I bargained with Anamaria, and I got that ship back to where it belongs. » Jack pursued his lips and frowned comically. « Do I ev'n wan' to know what you did to her to mak'her change 'er mind ?

- I think you should.

- Oh ?

- Well, you are going to pay for it after all… »

Jack was now very concerned. Kurt had a wide grin. Now, Kurt grinning when he narrated his bargaining exploits was worrysome. He readied himself to some kind of astronomical number of gold coins, and watched anxiously as Kurt opened his mouth to speak. « She gets the Pearl's life-boat. And you have to pay for a mast. And some canvas. »

Jack could not believe what he was hearing. And yet, it was disturbingly easy to understand how somebody like Kurt would conclude a deal without consulting with Jack first. Kurt always thought Jack was learning bargaining from him instead of teaching him. Kurt shrugged at his sunken face. « What ? I'll pay you back anyway, because I need you to pay for my first crew. So I can also pay you back for the slight alterations made to a life-boat. Shouldn't be more expensive than a whole new crew. Save if you don't want to keep the one we have here on the Pearl. »

Jack opened his mouth. He had to say something. He was the captain for Calypso's sake. He could not let one of his crew turn him around like that ; even if it was one he was almost a father to ! No, scratch that, a creator ! But, as it often happened when faced with Kurt's disarming abilities, he found he had nothing to say. He resolved to wait a few hours until he would have found something scathing to send back and went down on the deck.

The whelp – William Turner the second – had dismissed the order of going down to get something to eat and some sleep and was repairing some torn ropes beside Gibbs. The man was retelling the story of how Jack had been marooned, and the incredible story he and Kurt had spread around concerning his escape. Well, he liked to think of it like that, but really, people had started spreading that story long before Jack intended to have a legend about himself. In fact, it had been his own invention, while sitting in a pub in Bombay and introducing Kurt to the new taste of Asian rum ; a drunk man had been sitting beside them and had understood only half of what Jack had been inventing. Five years later, Jack was known as a man who could speak to sea-turtles. Alas, there was always one question that kept coming back. How did he get around some ropes on a deserted island ? Usually, when faced with that question, Kurt snickered and told them that nobody knew. Jack quickly made up some explanations, and told them to get down and feed. When William made a move to contradict him, Jack sighed and huffed. Well. If he wanted to faint from exhaustion while rescueing his damsel, he was free to do so.

The look out shouted, and Jack went to the side to watch as a dark and high island drifted forth from the mist. He ran up to the wheel and told Kurt to coordinate sails to an eminent stop while he guided the ships through the sharp and indented reefs around the cove. Once the waters were still, he asked for the anchor to be released.

He pondered for a moment how he was going to go about this, when he spotted the Pearl just off the cliffs. The tall ship was as dark and forbidding than some of the reefs they had just passed by. He felt a knot of emotions rise up in his troath and beated it silently down. Before that, he had to see that the whelp got to his young lass. It would not do to breach a deal. Many thought it was a question of honor, and even more did know it was very bad luck.

He consulted with Kurt, and the young man agreed he had to stay on the ship to make sure everything was perfectly settled if they had to flee. It was concluded that Jack and William woud be the only ones to step onto the Island. Gibbs, ever the precautious one, was the only crew member who asked what to do if he ever was to fall behind. A simple gaze at Kurt ressolved the matter. Kurt knew the code even better than Jack did, with that damn memory of his…

As silently as possible, Jack ordered William to row the ship to the Island. The Isla de la Muerta was breath taking. Jack had never actually set foot on the island, but what he saw went terribly well with the legend. They did not find a shore, instead, they followed a narrow aquatic tunnel, where the water became clear and showed a bottom of dark stone and shiny gold pieces. Rock formed a tiny sidewalk littered with white shards he suspected to be bones. The whelp was rowing silently, eyes drifting overboard to the golden sparks he could see glinting in the light of the burning torches stuck into the wall. That did not bode well. The pirates had been in such a hurry they had not bothered to put out the lights – which noted no care for security (the entrance to the cave was shining like a star against the dark shape of the Isla de la Muerta). Jack doubted the whelp's girlfriend was still alive. He noted the fire that had been lit in the boy's eyes ; it amused him. « Ye know, ye're more of a pirate, than ye'd like to be.

-Absolutely not.

-I say ! Here you are, afta busting a pirate out o' jail, sailing unda his orders. And what's more…You're completely obsessed with treasures. »

The boy straightened immediately. « I seek no treasure. » They bumped into the side of a small cove where several other rowing boats were lined up. Jack jumped swiftly, and heard a rumor coming up from a corridor. He thought of the elegant hull of the Black Pearl ans nearly shuddered from excitation. « So says ye, whelp. But not all treasures are made of gold or silver, says I. »

And the treasures that came under another form than golden coins were sometimes much more precious than those, mostly because once lost, they could never be found again. Kurt would agree with him on that ; even through the young giant was very picky about his shares.

« What was that code, Gibbs was speaking about with Kurt when we left ? » Ah. Jack smirked. Kurt and the Code. « The Code of Piracy. Laws that rule the Seas more effectively than those of any country.

-Uh ? And what are they to do, if you effectively fall behind ?

-Leave. Every one who falls behind is left behind.

-No heroes among thieves.

-If there were, where would be the advantage of keeping up ? » He grinned, and the boy just hunched his shoulders.

The cave was impressive, and more furnished than he remembered the legend to boast. No doubt, Barbossa and his cursed crew had not laid low during all those years…He peecked through a crack of the stone, and saw something that would have an pirate running around in excitation. A mountain of gold. Several feet high of piled up gold coins and jewels and statues and…He looked quickly at the whelp, and his breathless expression assured him he was not dreaming. He had to hand to Barbossa, the guy did one good job using those ten years. In the very back of his mind, Jack doubted he himself could have thrown together a treasure this impressive. Barbossa was standing in front of the golden mountain, on a large rock supporting the stone chest in which Jack could see the wide and thick coins of the Cortès treasure. The girl was standing behind him in a red dress that seemed somewhat familiar, but he could not have said where he'd seen it last. He caught William raising, poised for attack. He stopped him calmly with a hand on his arm. « I deal with it. You stay here, and wait for the…opportune moment. » Hence, when Jack would call him in for the exchange. He went around, thinking madly. How was he to convince Barbossa ? How to barge in… He needed something grand, something that would go down in memory. At least in his, since he was basically going to kill them all shortly after getting back in possession of the Pearl. He crossed the storage area for the paddles, and suddenly, a brilliant, a grandiosa idea popped up in his head. Of course ! He picked up a long, wooden paddle. Perfect. Now he was all set. He had his crew – Kurt would be keeping a close eye on them – his speach, his paddle, his bribe – at least he hoped the whelp had not moved from his previous location…If he had, then all was - .

A furious roar resonated from the cave, and all was lost. He heard the rushing footsteps of two running fugitives, the swooch the row boat made when they went away.

Bah. William would not be making a friend out of Kurt.

Everything was lost, for now. He would have to convince Barbossa not to kill him - easy. He would have to convince him to follow the Interceptor or maybe - maybe - Kurt had had a good idea and gotten on the Pearl meanwhile. He would have to convince Barbossa to let him go free with his beloved ship - not so easy, but impossible was a word Jack refused to acknowledge. He had been wrong in underestimating the boy's blood - his father was a turncoat after all, no saying the son could not be one as well.

He took a deep breath, as what would follow would not in anyway be enjoyable. It might even be painful; to his pride at least. He took a solid hold of the wood paddle : if Barbossa decided to ignore his call of parlay, he would need a weapon. A paddle was as good as any. Finally, he rounded the thick rocks separating him from his enemy.

He recognised them. He had hired them, every single one of them, with the help of his trusted first mate, to seek out Cortès' treasure. they had had friendly face then, ready to laugh at his antics and his carelessness. They had been a good crew, during the three weeks they had remained loyal to him. Efficient sailors, dreadful pirates, good fighters and some...Some had even been friends. They had eaten the same bread, and drunk the same rum. As they saw him, they recoiled, as if afraid. Maybe they thought he was a ghost. He had been abandoned on a lost island. Or he had been incarcerated in Port-Royal, ready to be hung.

It was rather impressive that he was still alive. He smiled pleasantly and curtsied. Let it not be said that Captain Jack Sparrow was not a gentleman to old friends.

"Hello gentlemen. What a surprise."

....

Jack had witnessed many battles during his life. Most of them, he had taken part in, because while fighting was not his favorite passtime, he was a pirate captain. As it was, standing out of the mischief when even that young lass of the whelp's was taking part was almost painful. As much as watching his beloved Pearl being blown up to pieces.

As far as he could tell, the battle was hopeless on the Interceptor's side. No surprise, there. They were easily outnumbered, Kurt's ship was deceptivey light and vulnerable to cannon bullets and Kurt had no idea he had a bargain possibility on board. Suddenly, Jack wished he had spoken with Kurt about his buisness with the whelp, as Kurt had proved to be a worthy associate and had much more to lose than say, Gibbs. He heard something crack, and the Pearl jerked to the side. He glanced through the hole in the hull and saw that the Interceptor had lost one of her masts. He shortly caught the face of Kurt, livid with anger before it disappeared behind the thick smoke the Pearl's cannons produced. His view was severily restricted, since he was below the level of the Interceptor's deck, and its fallen mast and canvas almost completely covered the hole a cannon ball had made in his cell. He could however hear Kurt's booming voice and Anamaria's chrill battle cry. This was Kurt's most obvious difference with Jack. The boy loved the fights. It was as if he never got enough of those.

Suddenly, a rope fell in front of the hole he was standing near. He took grip on it. a bit farther to the right laid part of the topmainmast that had fallen and broken off the mast and opened a large gash in the Pearl's lee-rail The deck of the Interceptor was complete chaos and his eyes stung with the smoke and burned gunpowder. He marched over the fallen mast and approached his apprentice. Kurt turned around and did not even have the decency to look surprised. Jack debated between being smug his little protegee had not been fooled by Barbossa, and plainly insulted his coming back from the supposedly dead had not led to more genuine happiness than the plain « Oh, you're here. » Kurt pronounced.

He squared his shoulder, raised his eyes to meet his, and said. « Yes, I'm back. So ? How is it goin' ?

-Badly. No chance of recovering the ship, I'm afraid.

-Aye. After you worked so hard to get it back from Ana…

-Don't talk to me about it. »

They moved quickly out of the way as Gibbs charged, a sword in each hand.

The young man was pale with anger. « All we had to do was delay our departure a little, time for us to get on the Pearl, and set sails toward East, and turn around the Island to hide ! But no, they wanted to go back to Port Royal right ahead and wash their honor by bringing back the Interceptor. I swear, Jack, unless you tell me he's your lost and found illegitimate child, I'll kill him.

-Great ! He's not. »

In no more time than it takes to say it, they were lined up on the Pearl's deck, Kurt still shaking from anger. William was nowhere in sight, but Jack was not worried. People like him did not have the good taste of dying before the adventure was over. The girl was screeching, again, and seemed surprised they had been caught up with, let alone vanquished. Jack looked around, taking in the changes made to the ship during his absence and the damages caused by the fight. Kurt had done well, considering they had thrown overboard almost all that could be used as weapon. But the Interceptor was well beyond repair. Barbossa ordered the destruction of the Interceptor and Kurt growled. He turned around and punched one of the cursed sailors so hard, he flew back ten feet. Barbossa, as usual, was grinning widely and Jack clenched his fists. The only thing Barbossa had over him was his luck. The man strolled down the deck as if he owned the place, and signalled to the men on the side to fire their cannons. Two bullets were shot, and the ship blew up. The girl cried, and tried to claw Barbossa's eyes out with her very fingers.

Too late.

Gibbs caught her before she was shot by one of the captain's henchmen, and she screeched. « He killed William ! » Kurt took hold of the red dress in the front, almost lifting her off her feet. « Yeah, and he is a pirate ! What ? You surprised he's not being a gentleman about it ? Face it girl, for now, we've all been very nice to you ! » And suddenly, a voice shot from behind him. « Leave her alone ! She did not do anything wrong ! » Kurt did not even take a breath before spinning around and taking out his gun to point at William Turner the second. « You ! I'm gonna kill you, good for nothin' whelp ! »

His voice was so loud and sharp it surprised even Jack. William pointed his own gun at him, and almost squealed. « What ? What for ?

-You had my ship blown up, shrimp ! How am I gonna visit my mutty without a ship ?!

-I am of your crew !

-Aye, and just for that little stunt you pulled off at the Island, I could have hung you ! Who do you think you are, ordering men around as if you were the captain ? You had never set foot on a ship a week ago !

-If you had been any better, they wouldn't have listened to me ! »

Jack had to hand it to Kurt, the boy knew how to get angry. His voice was raising like thunder, and his arm supported his long and heavy gun without trembling. Come to think of it, he had never really seen Kurt that angered ; sometimes annoyed, sometimes irritated, but raging mad like this ? Never. Why was he making such a show – although, it was in some ways justified – when his character was usually so easy going and fatalistic ? Jack looked around the deck in wonder. By now, even Barbossa was enraptured in watching the argument. Jack observed Kurt intently, and made quickly his decision. He reached forward and took hold of the girl's arm. Elizabeth, if he recalled correctly. Gibbs had passed his thicks arms around Kurt's middle to forbid him of reaching forward and punch the lights out of the boy. Almost gently, he led her to the back of the crowd without her even noticing. When she realised she was getting farther and farther from her – seemingly – only ally, she gasped and turned toward Jack. He planted his finger on his lips to indicate silence, and took his gun and sword from the pile near the door to the captain's cabin before guiding her to the side under the stairs that led over the captain's state-room, behind Kurt. His tall gesticulating form hid them from sight, and he quickly ripped off the bodice of the expensive dress she had on. She moved to scream in outrage and he muffled her with his hand motioning to a small island with his head. She looked at him angrily, and did not understand. He made her crouch behind a cannon, and whispered. « Kurt is doin' a good enough job of keeping the attention off of us. I hope your swimming improved since we last had the occasion to mesure it. »

Still holding his hand over her mouth, he lifted her over the gunwale and told her to get down to the water quietly. He jumped beside her, and used a remnant of the Interceptor's mast that had not yet been cleaned away to dive without a sound.

The island was less than one and a half mile from the ship, and along with carrying a sword and a heavy gun, he had to help her keep her head out of the water. After a few minutes, they heard a gunshot coming from the ship and a faint scream – sounded like Kurt had finally shot the boy somewhere in the shoulder or leg if the shouts coming from the Pearl were to be believed. Then, Barbossa noticed they were gone and had them search the ship. They quickly found the dress and started searching in their direction. One of the men with a looking glass saw them and some started shooting, but they were already far enough to be safe.

Slowly, the Pearl turned around, and from the looks of it, made aim for the Isla de la Muerta.

The girl squealed again and started moving toward the ship. He quickly caught her back and pushed her toward the island. Luckily, she was too panicked with the fact that she was in deep waters to protest too much, and went on. He felt a small spark of relief. Who knew what could be lurking in the water beneath them ? He knew the Isla de la Muerta was a breeding site for hammerheads, so there were bound to be some here.

However, as soon as she set foot on sand and was able to stand, she started again. « Do you have no shame ? Abandoning your crew like this ? And now - » Oh, how he wished he were cruel enough to rip her tongue out of here throat. Maybe she'd get a parrot, like that of Mr Cotton, and she would be easier to silence. He turned around just in time to see the Pearl disappearing in a wift of mist – again. The view was strangely familiar. He turned around. Yep, that was it. Kurt had definitely meant the theatrical masterpiece. Now, if he could find that cache again…He was certain they had not taken everything. If his memory were right, both of the reserve they had and the quantity they could fit in the 'Dancing Nut', they must have had quite a few bottles remaining. Meanwhile, the girl was still speaking her tongue out. If she kept opening her mouth like this, she'd give it an opportunity to fly away. Hope never dies, he supposed.

Kurt had once explained how to find the cache he had stumbled upon per mistake. He found a palm tree with a small 'A' carved into the bark. The boy spoke the truth. Jack smiled. From the look of things, no one had stopped by in years. He counted as he stepped three times. Something ceaked under his feet. He jumped. It creaked again. How he loved that little squeaky sound.

The girl had followed him, and for the first time, he observed and detailed her form. She was not an unfortunate looking girl, that was for sure, a bit on the thin side, maybe. She had an agreable face, nice hair – he was not used to anyone being this clean – and large brown eyes. He supposed she went well with the whelp. She lacked a bit in the chest area to be completely to his taste.

He brushed away some sand with the flat of his hand and found the thick hoop fixated to the trap door.

« What are you doing anyway ? » Now that for once was a sensible question he could answer. She would learn when and how to speak and what to say. She would learn what questions would earn her a response and what question could get her killed – he would have done so already if she had not been even younger than Kurt. Jack too had been young, and he had not been embittered enough to despise young and foolish people. The girl was rich, noble and had been raised as such. She even was suprinsingly strong, to have lived through an abduction, two pirate raids, and two miles in freezing and dangerous waters.

« Aye, I've stayed on this island a few days after me crew mutiny'd on me. T'was used by smugglers as hide out. They're ou' of business now.

-You've been here before ? Then you know how we could get away ! How did you do the last time ? Did you build a ship ? Or… » She was getting carried away, and Jack was a bit embarassed to reveal how he had been rescued – very much like a damsel in distress – by the crew of the Dancing Nut.

« Las' time I stay'd here a grand total of two days. Kurt's people found me here and got me off the island. »

She was struck silent for a few minutes and Jack gave himself a congratulating pat on the shoulder as he got two bottles of rum out of the impressive stack still stored in the cache. If anything, they would not die of thirst.

....

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For info - I have been using that term for ages without ever asking myself the meaning - a mile (nautical) is worth 1852 meters. Impressive huh?

Have a nice holiday!!!!

Tozi