AN; Firstly, I don't own them… tho if someone offered a trip on the Black Pearl to me I'd jump at the chance and spend the whole journey making funof Ja- Captain Jack Sparrow, until he threw me overboard but no, I don't own them, it or anything… I OWN NOTHING!!!!!

Secondly, this is a SLASH STORY!!! Ie it has a MALE/MALE relationship in it, so don't read if you don't like and if you still read then don't flame and if you do flame it'll be Davey Jones locker for you, with Jack's sword up your ass!

Thirdly- if you don't want to flame my slashiness- REVIEW!

And last, but definitely not least, Willow, my wonderful beta (all praise Willow!)

Belonging

I used to think it was my fault - that I was doing something wrong, not trying hard enough to fit in. So I buried myself in my profession, learning how to create the most beautiful weapons I could, practising with them, trying to lose myself in the metal. But it didn't work. The fighting sated some of my appetite, but I still felt out of place.

Then I thought it was because of Elizabeth, that to belong I needed her. But I knew that it as impossible. A blacksmith and the governor's daughter, an unthinkable match, other than in fairy tales, and even then the blacksmith is revealed as a prince. There was little chance of that happening, so I immersed myself in my work even more, taking pleasure in the times she smiled at me. I hoped that for once I would belong.

I was so caught up in this idea of belonging with her that I didn't notice when I really belonged somewhere- aboard a pirate ship, off on an adventure with Captain Jack Sparrow, one of the most famous pirates in the Caribbean. No, I was blind to what was right in front of my face. But I didn't realise, didn't notice my soul was, for once, at peace, not longing, at any time, to be elsewhere.

You don't know what you've got till it's gone, I'm sure I've heard someone say that once. I never realised the truth behind it though. Not until I was standing back in my forge, Elizabeth beside me, wishing for a salty spray in my face, a deck swaying beneath my feet and an eccentric pirate waving his hands in front of my face and telling me not to do anything stupid.

What I noticed then, with sharp clarity, that the wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman beside me did not feature in my daydream at all. I did not belong with her.

I regret what I did then; it wasn't fair to vanish like that. But I knew I could never watch her heart break. I left a note for her on the door of the smithy, and left on a ship that very night.

I didn't stay on that ship for long before I realised. I still didn't belong. The salty water tasted sour, the swaying of the deck just made me dizzy and the Captain was a burly, direct, man with none of the spark, finesse or brilliance of Captain Jack Sparrow. He looked as out of place on the deck as I felt. He commanded the ship, unlike Jack, who always seemed part of it… part of everything: the ship, the wind, and the ocean.

I felt lost. I didn't belong at Port Royal; I didn't belong at sea. I considered giving up then; convinced I didn't belong anywhere, that I was an outcast.

I didn't have time to dwell on this, a fact that probably stopped me from doing something 'stupid', because that very night a pirate ship was spotted to the north of us. That news caused me to stir a little in hope, but it wasn't till the next morning that I recognised the approaching vessel, black sails prominent in the strong sea breeze- the Pearl.

I don't remember much of the ensuing battle, only being greeted by a familiar dark-eyed pirate with a large grin and making a show of fighting him before running through a man creeping up on him from behind. Then the pretence was pretty much over, and after the fight I crossed back onto the Pearl, drinking with the crew, who, like their Captain, greeted me as an old friend, if pirates have friends.

My memories of how I got here this morning are hazy at best, but that doesn't matter. All that matters right now is that I know where I'm supposed to be. I know that I belong right here, with the warm arms of a certain dark eyed pirate wrapped round me and the creaks of the Pearl announcing morning as his eyes flicker open and he smiled, still just as crazy as ever.