Title: Sense of Duty
Rated: M
Pairings: J/E, mention of W/E and a splash of B/E
Summary: The Code is being taught, enemies need a new level of trust, and someone's death starts looking mysterious . . .
Notes: I made a list of more than 30 codes, some made up and some stolen. You'll get a taste of it in this chapter (and more when more chapters come) and also a bit of Teague past.
This is the chapter when things start picking up, mystery starts, budding relations yadda yadda let's get to the story!
Beta: Howlongmustiwait

Chapter Nine: Sweat and Journals

"He has a trunk of umbrellas?" Elizabeth asked, looking down in an old trunk . . . full of pink umbrellas. "And why are they pink?"
Hector came up from behind her, and stared down at the trunk. "Maybe he liked pink umbellar's."

Elizabeth 's brow furrowed, and she bent down at the waist to pick one up. Which granted Hector her glorious behind curving into his thighs, and for a brief second he imagined himself pumping into that sweet warmth . . .

Then Elizabeth stood up, and twirled an umbrella in her hand. "They are beautiful."

"Then take 'em." Hector grunted, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his groin. He watched as the King moved around the room, bending down to check on a little statue and to look at the rugs. His member twitched, and he couldn't help but ask: "Would ye be liking some pleasurable company this evening?"

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, and continued to look around the sitting room. "Maybe, if you persuade me . . . "

"And what do I have to do in order to grant a young ladies favor?" Hector asked, and took two steps toward her.

Elizabeth laughed, and looked at him. "You are usually not this charming, Hector. I am afraid you are getting soft in your old years."

Hector looked offended, but his body reacted differently. More heat rushed down to his groin.

"And when was the last time we had pleasurable company, as you call it?" Elizabeth asked, sitting on a luxurious red couch. "Last time I remember; it was on my ship."

"Yer memory serves ye correct." Hector smirked, taking off his hat and placing it on a statue. "But remember, I only have one heart and am fine on keepin' it fer meself."
"Hector, do you honestly think that I would grant you mine now," Elizabeth smirked, unbuttoning her black vest, "when I had already given it to someone else?"

Hector smiled, and took off his coat.

"We have an accord, then."

(J)(E)(J)(E)

Jack had his hand extended in front of him, pointing at the newly appointed King, his face in mild disgust. Barbossa looked at Elizabeth in shock, and she was staring at Jack. Her face was unreadable, as Teague wasn't as close to her as he was to his son.

Jack fingered the drawing and turned the page to read the entry.

Jackie seems to be in yet another dilemma - but this one, it seems, is more personal then soldiers chasing him and beasts devouring him. To me, it seems his heart had been stolen; I saw that during the meeting it was as if he was handing it across the table at the lovely Swann.

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, as the new King (wise and strong, yet young in years) declared war. I found myself agreeing with her; it is noble tradition for pirates to put their tails between their legs and run from the fight. But for this case, no matter where we would run, we would be caught. It is high time we sucked in our pot bellies and faced the dangers.

Jackie, of course, came at me with his cockiness. I quickly quieted him down, and for the first time in thirty and three years, I believe that he actually heard me. That boy is too much like his mother; dark and mysterious, but at times can be so easy to read. Whenever his mother had a look of happiness on her face, it was mischief; but when she was in despair she would be as dark and sullied as a cold damp cave. I can see that in Jackie.

I gave him my Rosalina; so she could look after him. That woman loved him with a fire, I know she would have liked to be with him. To quiet her ghost, and to protect my son; I reunited them. I only hope that he takes as much care for her as she has for him in his youth.

Now a bottle calls for me, brought to me by two of the dimmest men you would ever meet; maybe I should think of quitting drinking so much. I am beginning to tire, my age settling in my bones. But asking a pirate to give up the drink is like looking at the sea and telling it to please, if you kindly, dry up.

Jack smirked at his father's words, and turned the page. It showed a picture of the two bumbling idiots that served as Jack's assistants, handing over a bottle of rum to no one. It looked like they were handing it to you, and Jack found that he would very much like to accept it. He had spent the past hours reading on the last two years of his father's life, and he was getting nearer and nearer to the end. It enthralled him to read his father's words; even though he never heard them when he was younger. The man, despite Jack's judging, was interesting and had a mind quite muddled and incoherent as his was at some times.

Jack laid down the book, and fingered the key. He looked at the small puzzle, and recalled Barty's words on how it was nigh impossible to figure out. To Jack, it was very simple. You just rotated this screw, moved the one part over another, and it would snap in place. Simple.

Any fool could have done it. Then again, in his mind, Captain Jack Sparrow was no fool.

He sat back in his chair, twirling the key on one hand and thought of many things. His father had mentioned many times in his journals that after he drank the rum from Paen and Hecker, he would suddenly feel much older and arthritic. Jack thought that odd. But then again, the man was getting on in his years. But when he saw him at the meeting, he seemed fit enough.

Then there were the thoughts of Elizabeth that plagued his mind more often then he wanted. He contemplated that why, all of the sudden, his dreams (that had miraculously reappeared at the sight of her) seemed to center around her, more importantly, him and her. Granted, he would admit to dreaming of her before, but they were the occasional perverted dreams that any man could have about a woman. But these recent dreams unnerved him; they seemed more detailed lately, more desired, more personal. He found himself thinking that he wanted them to come true, so he could know how it was like to hold her in his arms, then quickly thought of other things

Like Hector Barbossa. If only Jack had that pistol with one shot back, he would blow it into the bastard's chest right now. He was aware that Barbossa might attempt to commandeer the Pearl ; that is why he had a twenty-four-hour watch on it, and received reports on it's whereabouts. But there was a more unsettling matter that concerned the presence of Hector Barbossa, and that was the presence of Hector Barbossa being almost like a shadow to Elizabeth Swa - Turner. Elizabeth Turner. He wondered how the whelp was doing. In the end, he, wasn't so bad, made Elizabeth happy, at least for one day. One day of true happiness is better than not knowing any at all.

Jack sighed, and rubbed his eyes. Where were the bottles of rum in his room? Surely, someone from the kitchen would have brought them up for him.

Then a thought occurred to Jack. The drink was making Teague slow and near death?

Something wasn't right.