Disclaimer: No mouse ears for me. No profit made, just a little fun.

A/N: If I told you what has been going on to delay this, you'd all think I made it up. Anyhow, here it goes, and hopefully nothing else of a disastrous nature will intervene. *glares at Supreme Being* Oh, and review, please. Think of it as inspiration for a weary author.

Wait For No Man

Chapter 11

Will pulled his sword from his belt and stepped forward. "I'll kill anyone who comes between me and my daughter," he said quietly, brandishing the blade under the old lady's chin.

She cackled. "Save your fierceness for them who deserve it, boy. The child is safe here."

Ana burst out of the brush and ran to pull the old lady back a few steps. "Have you gone daft, Will?" she spat out angrily.

He faltered slightly in the face of her fury, the point of his sword wavering. "They are summoning evil here; I saw them," he said, less sure of himself now.

"Huh." Ana knocked his blade aside and confronted him, fists on hips. "What is it you think you saw, then?"

Will blinked at the vehemence in her voice, a tone she generally reserved for her captain. "I – she – " he gestured to the blind crone, "she was dancing and shouting incantations to the Devil, and they made poor Belle drink blood, and then – " A shout of laughter from the group by the fire interrupted him. "It's true!" Will insisted angrily. "I know what I saw!"

The old woman cackled again. "What you saw and what you know is two different things, boy. Aye, we danced, and called out our prayers."

Will nodded vehemently. "Aye, to the Devil himself."

The crone folded her arms. "And did you hear me call the evil one?"

"N-no. I couldn't understand the words, but –"

Ana rolled her eyes. "We dance in celebration, and to lose ourselves in our devotion to the spirits of our ancestors and to our God." She shook her head in disgust. "What harm can a dance do? Your people dance. Do you raise evil?"

Will rubbed the back of his neck, feeling faintly foolish. "No, of course not." Then he remembered something. "What about the blood they forced Belle to drink?"

"Forced?" The crone was indignant. " 'Twas a tea only, made red from the hibiscus flower. Belle is in pain and there is much healing in my teas. I don' force nobody."

Will blinked. "But she retched…"

Ana threw up her hands. "An' have you never retched yourself, then? Bring up evil spirits, did you? No?" She sighed. "Belle was shot trying to save the child. Maman was trying to make her more comfortable only, but there is a fever."

Will slowly lowered his sword to the ground, then sheathed it. "Forgive me, please," he said to the old crone, who tilted her head toward him like a bird. "You have done me a great service and I have repaid you with suspicion."

"Handsomely said, boy," replied Maman as Ana detached herself from the group and went to a tent on the edge of the circle. "There is nothin' to forgive. You protect the child; there is no wrong in that. I do the same. We just has different ways."

Beyond Maman, Ana came out of the tent carrying a small figure in ragged boy's clothing, head resting sleepily on Ana's shoulder. Will sagged in relief, his legs refusing to hold him as he went to his knees and held his arms wide.

The tot knuckled her eyes and yawned as Ana put her down. "Papa?" Will nodded, knowing words wouldn't fit past the lump in his throat. Lizbet blinked at him, her eyes huge and dark. "You were a long time coming, Papa," she said reproachfully.

He nodded again, clearing his throat. "I know, love. I'm sorry." And all of a sudden she flew into his arms, nearly throttling him with a tight grip around his neck and waist. Will held her tightly to him, blinking back tears as he buried his face in her honey-blond hair.

"Did they hurt you, little one?"

She nodded. "My head has a cut on it. And I fell down one time and the stupid pirate who thinks he's Uncle Captain Jack hurt my arm. They hurt Belle worse, though." She sniffled a little. "Is she going to be all right? Is Godpapa hurt?"

Ana bent to Will's ear. "I don't mean to cut your reunion short, but 'tis time to go," she said quietly.

Will hoisted his daughter and got to his feet. "What is it?"

Ana gestured toward the forest. "The one following us – I chased him for a bit, but I lost him. You need to get back to the Pearl."

"Aye." Will nodded to Maman and the rest of the tribe. "Thank you doesn't go half far enough," he said. "I am in your debt."

Maman patted Lizbet's cheek. "You don't fear, child. There is still trouble to come, maybe, but you don't fear. You has a gros bon ange – a guardian angel – so it all come right in the end. All right?"

Lizbet nodded solemnly and then laid her head on her father's shoulder, and Will followed Ana into the pitch black of the forest.

~*~

"And this is what I get for spending the last three years keeping me nose clean," said Jack disgustedly. "Can you move your hands?"

Bill rolled his eyes. "Fer th' twentieth time, Jack, no. Nor anythin' else."

Jack huffed out a sigh. "No more can I."

"I know that." Bill's tone was long-suffering.

The two old comrades were lashed back to back, their hands and feet trussed securely. Jack made a mental note never to eat Christmas goose again, out of sheer fellow-feeling.

"Ye make a good case fer that cur t' be working fer someone," Bill went on after a moment. "Who d'ye reckon?"

"Been wondering that," said Jack with a truncated shrug. "But as I say, I've kept me nose clean, been a privateer for his Majesty these last years. I can't think of anybody I've offended this deeply, other than Norrington, and that was years ago."

"He seems to've got over it," said Bill dryly.

Jack snorted. "Aye." He eyed the room they occupied more closely. "Bill, can you brace your feet against that wall?"

"I can," said Bill, and did. "What fer?"

"If I brace mine as well, we can climb up the wall together," said Jack, suiting action to words. He tried a few steps, wriggling his feet within the confines of the rope that bound them.

"So we can, but I'm at a bit of a loss as to why we'd want to. An' it's mighty slow goin'," Bill said when they'd worked their way up a few inches.

Jack thought quickly. "If we get far enough up and out of sight, when they come back they'll think we've gone and come in the room to check. We'll be able to get the key and escape."

Bill seemed to be thinking that over. "I see two flaws in yer plan, Jack, if ye don't mind me sayin' so."

"Flaws?" Jack was indignant. He worked his way up a few more inches. "What flaws?"

"Well, first of all ye seem t' be assumin' the rogues 'r comin' back, and we've no real assurance of that, nor of when. 'N strong as ye are I don' think either man of us can hold this position fer long."

"Oh fine," replied Jack irritatedly. "Anything else?"

"Well, there is the minor question of what we're s'posed t' do to the gents when they come a-racin' in the room, seein' as we're trussed up like so much plucked fowl," Bill went on. "Did 'ee see us droppin' on 'em like manna from heaven, or what?"

Jack snorted. " 'Twill come to me. You forget, Bill, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"

"Oh, aye," said Bill sardonically. "But I'm not."

~*~

"So." The false Jack's employer leaned across the dust-covered desk, fury evident in a pair of baneful dark eyes. "I asked for four, you bring me two. Tell, me, 'Jack'… are you an optimist or a pessimist?"

'Jack' shifted uncomfortably on his feet, glancing nervously at his mates. "How's that again?"

"Uneducated cretin." The speaker came around from behind the desk, looking the row of pirates up and down. "Which of you was it that allowed Norrington to escape me?"

Here was a question 'Jack' could understand. "That be Grotty, there." He nodded at the rogue in question, a particularly filthy specimen who bobbed obsequiously. " 'Tweren't entirely Grotty's fault. That there tart, Rose, she brained him with a rum bottle. Full, too," 'Jack' added sadly.

His employer looked the unkempt Grotty over, upper lip curling. "I take it you are using the word 'brained' euphemistically." At this, Grotty nodded enthusiastically, and the other sighed. "Deplorable."

'Jack' cleared his throat. "I sent Gunner t' follow young Turner. We'll have him and the lass before dawn, sir, I swear it."

"Young Turner." The speaker smiled, picking up a half-empty bottle from the desk and twirling it in his long fingers. "I recall a time when he was nothing more than that, when he knew his place in the world. When he would never have dared to look upon my – " The neck of the bottle snapped, lacerating the speaker's fingers, but he did not seem to notice the blood that dripped to the floor. "Jack Sparrow taught him differently, and for that…" He chuckled. "For that infraction I have taken everything from him. Including, soon, his life."

He smeared bloody fingers across his sleeve, looking at the gore with interest. "She didn't stop bleeding, you see. She never stopped bleeding until there was no more left in her. And then she left me," he added, his voice plaintive. His eyes glinted craftily. "But not for long, no, not for long at all now. You see, I know where she is hiding. And I shall have her back."

The pirate stared at his employer, bewildered.

The man drew himself up. "You stare, like all the others. But you will see that I am right. I have been given another chance to show her the error of her choices." His expression grew distant. "To atone for the wrong I did in loving her so much."

And as suddenly his voice was cold, commanding again. "Dawn, you say? You'd best be correct, 'Jack'." Light gleamed off the buttons on his coat as the speaker turned toward the imposter menacingly. He leaned forward, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth, eyes glittering in the flickering half-light. "By the time the sun shines on this Godforsaken isle again, my daughter – my Elizabeth – had best be back in my care. And Will Turner in my hands."

~*~

Will could see the lights of the port at Tortuga shining in the distance as the forest thinned around him. Ana's figure, somewhat ahead and moving faster without the added burden of Lizbet, was silhouetted between the trees against the flickering yellow lights of the town. He had opened his mouth to call to her when a shot rang out nearby. Ana dropped to the ground.

Will bit out a curse and reached around Lizbet for his sword, freezing when the moonlight glinted off the barrel of a pistol pressed to the side of his daughter's head.

"I'll be relievin' ye of that burden ye're carrying," said a silky voice. "One way or another." The man holding the pistol stepped from the shadowed woods; Will recognized the false Jack, who cocked his weapon and reached for Lizbet. "Which way will ye choose?"

Will's throat closed off as he handed his daughter over, gently pulling her clinging hands away from the sleeve of his shirt. "Just for a little while, sweetheart, I promise," he choked out in answer to her whimper. Lizbet sniffled and nodded bravely.

"Excellent choice. And now, me lad, on yer knees." The gun barrel followed Will down, resting in the center of his forehead as his arms were grabbed by unseen accomplices of the false Jack and painfully tied behind him.

Lizbet cried out but the pirate brandished his pistol and she fell silent, biting her lip. "That's it, poppet," 'Jack' said menacingly. " 'Ee be quiet as the grave, or else."

"Hurt her and I will kill you," gritted Will. The pirates guffawed loudly at this, but Will ignored them. He was more interested in the shape at the edge of the forest that got stealthily to its feet and crept away, toward the town, the lights and the Cochon D'Or.