Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

Chapter Four - Intoxication

What had he meant by uttering that enigmatic phrase, "until now?" What indeed? Will Turner hesitated, unsure of how much he wished to reveal. Inevitably, his thoughts strayed to those last few minutes aboard the Marauder. . .

As he was loading a dinghy with his few belongings, preparing to row ashore, Norrington had taken him aside. "You understand, Turner, that from this point forward you will be considered a pirate and a known criminal. Witnesses will have seen you rowing to Tortuga in order to join the crew of the Black Pearl. Bearing this in mind, if you are ever caught in Port Royal again you will be subject to the same fate as your shipmates." Here, Norrington had cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "I've no wish to see you hang, Turner. Do I make myself clear?" he had asked, extending his hand.

Will had shaken the proffered hand and nodded silently, afraid to speak lest he give his feelings away. Exile! He could scarcely remember passing a day without seeing Elizabeth's face. Now he was banished, repelled by the very rocks beneath her feet. He shook himself, willing the pain to subside. He would miss her, yes, and she would undoubtedly be hurt by his abrupt departure. But to stay, to marry her . . . That kind of dishonesty would have caused her even greater injury in the end.

Returning to the present moment, Will gazed into the bleary eyes of Captain Jack Sparrow. How could he spend his days with Elizabeth, how could he possibly, when every night he dreamed of those eyes? His decision was made. Gently, Will reached up and removed Jack's hands from his shoulders. He continued to hold them as he leaned in for a single, tentative kiss. Then he gave the captain's fingers a quick squeeze, let go, and stepped back. "There. That is what I meant."

Jack frowned, putting one distracted finger to his lips as he considered the situation. "Interesting," he muttered darkly. Then, appearing to reach a decision, he drew a flask from his coat pocket, unscrewed the top, and took a long swallow. After recapping it, he wiped his mouth and arranged his features into their usual expression - jovial, wicked, and slightly daft. "Well then, my lad, I suppose your explanation will have to suffice."

Jack took hold of Will's lapels and pulled the astonished boy roughly against himself. He then delivered a kiss so violent that Will could hear the faint clink of silver and gold as their teeth collided. After this impressive overture, he relented slightly, sliding his hands down to rest on Will's slender hips. Their mouths remained pressed together for several seconds more. Between the rum, the shock, and the sensation of Jack's wind- chapped lips against his own, Will felt shamefully close to swooning.

Finally they broke apart, gasping for air. Suddenly exhausted, Will lowered his forehead to rest against Jack's chest. He let out a sigh, along with an involuntary exclamation - "Oh, Jack Sparrow, you are. . . really something."

"That's Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack released Will and adjusted his hat. Then he set off in the direction of the harbor. "Come on, then." Will pulled himself together and hurried to catch up. They walked in silence through the moonlit town. The crowds had thinned, and the Tortugans still abroad at this hour looked exceptionally rough. Jack wove carelessly among them, sipping liberally from his flask and stealing occasional glances at Will.

It was only when they were face to face in a dilapidated dinghy, rowing towards the Black Pearl, that Jack spoke again. By this time, the liquor had rendered him nearly incoherent again. "Such skin y'ave. . . such eyes." So saying, he tilted his head back, lost his balance, and nearly fell overboard. Will was forced to do the remainder of the rowing, while Jack stretched out in the bottom of the boat and fell to snoring.

As for himself, Will no longer felt the effects of the rum. Since the doorway interlude, he had been under a different sort of influence altogether. To his heightened senses, every wave seemed an earthquake; every breath of salt air was like a bucket of water turned over his slumbering head. For the first time in two months, he felt alive.

Somehow or other, he managed to heave Jack out of the dinghy and over the side of the ship. As his body struck the cold deck boards, the captain awoke. By the time Will had climbed over the railing, Jack was stumbling in the direction of his cabin, humming tunelessly to himself. Throwing an arm around his waist to steady him, Will was grateful to note that the rest of the crew was either absent or asleep.

Once inside, Jack propped himself against the nearest wall and pulled Will to him. Through fluttering eyelashes, he regarded the boy fondly. "Dear William," he mumbled, "fair William." With that, the eyes closed completely, and he slid down the wall into unconsciousness.