Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE

Part 6 - RESEMBLANCES

Summary: Jack sees his first advantage through a past event.

"You see this, mate? I've been bloody scoured, wrapped and mended like a torn sailcloth on an unseaworthy vessel and to what purpose, good sir, might I ask? You and your surgeon - you've turned a fierce pirate into one sadly tidied little package fit for a prissy dandy no ship would welcome, have you not? Clever work, that. But I ask you -- Captain Groves, isn't it? -- what reason have you for doin' this to me? Have I wronged you somehow in a past encounter?"

"Well, that was direct," Andrew applauded. "To which, I imagine, you expect as direct an answer?"

"If you please." Jack drew his foot back under the blanket, tossing a dangerous look at Trenton, who quaked and fled the chartroom.

"You may not like the truth."

Jack's smile returned full force, but strained and impatient. "I do have a certain, what you would call, ah, admiration for the truth, but only in as it applies to circumstances of best benefit to my personal education and self-interest, savvy?"

"Spoken like a true pirate."

"Ah, but honest," Jack parried, idly rearranging the blanket across his chest as he suppressed a yawn.

"Fair enough. What do you know about this situation?" Andrew challenged.

Jack was taken aback by the question, his smile twisting into a scowl. He curled and uncurled the fingers of his right hand several times in exasperation. "This situation? Nothing, all right? Bloody English navy ship, no chains, no weapon what to speak of, and no rum." He paused to tap his upper lip in feigned contemplation. "Apparently there was a hurricane - which I slept through, on a table, of all things. And, oh, no bloody name? How is it you plan to address said cabin guest, 'ey? As captain's prisoner, patient or maybe a simple, 'you there, mate'? Hardly appropriate, is it?"

Damn that Sparrow, Andrew thought, empathizing how Norrington would have underestimated him. Even in his condition, the pirate did not miss a thing. He must also realize the importance of concealing his name, as he had not insisted upon everyone using it. In fact, he'd just given Andrew the lead and now watched him to see where it would be taken. Smart, devious man.

"As it happens," Andrew began tentatively, feeling Sparrow's hard eyes fixed on him. "There is a man whom you greatly resemble; a man I knew years ago."

Jack's brows rose involuntarily, but his mobile face offered no more than heightened interest. "A few years ago, you say?"

"Seven," Andrew said, wondering how much to reveal to an opportunistic pirate like Sparrow. "French brigands boarded the ship and took him off … in chains."

"Brigands? Oh, I see." Sparrow frowned thoughtfully. "That'd be the likely fate of a man what runs afoul of the old Pirate Lord Chavelle. Naught but a short-tempered, flowery buffoon of the Mediterranean Sea," he elaborated, "and him claimin' he has no money."

Andrew nearly lost his train of thought. "Pirate Lord?"

"What?" Jack shifted his legs under the blanket restlessly, cocking his head to one side with a mildly insulted look. "You think we've not the right as well as any lawless country to a sea-faring monarchy, as it were?" He shrugged, closing his eyes briefly. "You should know they been out there for a long time, mate."

"You know this… French outlaw, then?"

"Not really. More like an acquaintance of my…" Sparrow momentarily faltered. "Of another pirate. And this Blackstone personage … friend of yours, is he?"

"Well, we... sailed together," Andrew hedged, meeting Jack's probing with caution. "When I saw you the first time in Port Royal, you kind of reminded me of him. In fact, without all the hair, Jack, you could well pass for his brother." Or Blackstone, he added inwardly.

"Really?" Jack now sounded intrigued, but wary. "What, with all that hair and grime enough to disguise a decent man - you saw this Blackstone, eh?"

"Not... entirely. As I said, there's a resemblance, nothing more."

"Nothing more, 'ey?" Jack echoed dubiously, brows climbing as he rubbed his tattooed forearm in an absent manner. "Yet, you still offered a thirsty man a cup of water when none would acknowledge his pitiful existence as a pirate," he countered, dark eyes distantly thoughtful.

"So you remembered?" Andrew wasn't sure if he should feel dread or relief.

"Aye." Jack grinned at him disarmingly. "Had it been you guarding the Dauntless that day, Captain Groves -- ah, well, I might have hesitated. Then again, probably not." He tilted his head aside and Groves didn't have to hear the word 'pirate' to read it in the man's unabashed, widening grin, displaying every gold tooth in his mouth.

TBC:

Part 7 - DEAD DULL