Two hours later, true to his word, Jack was paddling a small rowboat while Will held onto their bags of cargo in case the rickety thing tipped. It had been luck to get to shore and take a boat when the guard was changing, and drag it back under the docks, but now the dark provided a bit of cover, at least. "Now, we jus' get to th' cave 'round th' jetty, there, an' situate ourselves 'til th' Pearl returns."



Will must've been woolgathering, because it took nearly a full minute for him to respond. "Huh? What? What do you mean, until it returns? I thought it was waiting around the cliff for us." Jack kept his face carefully neutral, sure to put more effort into his rowing to make himself appear harder-working. "Jack? Jack, answer me!"



"Now use your common sense, lad; 's not as easy as tucking 'way behind a few rocks," the captain began. "Af'er all, Norrington had th' whole Navy out circling th' island soon as we ran out."



"YOU SAID IT WAS JUS-"



Jack nearly lost his oar as he dropped it and reached across to hurriedly slap a palm to Will's shouts. "Pipe down!" he hissed. "Ye wan' us to be caught? Christ on th' cross was quieter 'n you."



Will reached up and smacked Jack's hand away by grabbing it tightly and holding it rigid. "Look, Pontius Pirate … you'd better not be lying about us being able to get out of here. If I find out you've lost the Pearl to someone else, again …"



"Ye'll what, Will?" Jack hadn't meant to sound defeated or tired, but the thought of anyone else taking his ship from him again was enough to drain him, at least temporarily. "Make me feel worse 'bout it?"



Surprisingly, Will's manner softened out a bit and he loosened his grip on the older man's hand. "Sorry," he offered, quietly. "But this is just idiocy!"



"Not that apologetic, I see," Jack mused with dark humor, pulling his hand back and taking up the neglected oar. "I did tell 'er to sail it back 'pon midnight for us; not completely addled, yet."



Will was silent again. Then: "Her? Anamaria?"



"Aye."



Silence. "The woman whose boat you stole? That Anamaria?"



"Ye've a point?" But Jack could already see it and admitted it would be easy to feel rather foolish for taking the pirate at her word. Still, she'd handed over the Pearl upon returning to the Isle de Muerte and had served him faithfully as a hand for the past eight months. "Well?" he continued, his tone between cross and amusedly inquiring.



"Her boat, Jack! You stole her-"



"Commandeered."



"Whatever." Will's eyes were hard in the dark, but not unkind. "You took her boat, sank it; she could easily consider the Pearl retribution."



"I already gave me word -- she got th' Interceptor."



"Which is fish housing right now."



"She came back to the Isle."



"For treasure, Jack!"



"She turned over command," he pressed on, rowing still and showing no exertion; he was rather proud of that, at his age. "Could've just lef' me there to die."



"She still might, here."



Jack glanced back behind him, seeing they were near the jetty. "Ye've no faith in human nature, lad."



"What, and you do? After everything that happened last year?"



"I ne'er said I was stupid, lad." He paused briefly to nod at his satchel, clutched in Will's lap. "There's enough incentive in there to bring 'er back. Even if she left me high 'n dry, her share o' th' loot wouldn' be near as much without those three bags o' gold."



Will thought that over, then narrowed his gaze, leaning forward a bit in interrogation. "Those were for me and Elizabeth," he pointed out.



"Aye, but your bonny lass has done gone, hasn' she?" Jack grinned and in the dark, one of his gold teeth caught the moon and flashed. "She'll ne'er miss what she didn' have," he observed, his eyes briefly raking the young man before him in double meaning. He wasn't obvious about it, however, and Will didn't look as though he'd noticed. "How'd she pick France, anyway?"



"Quit trying to change the subject." Will was relentless once he got hold of an idea or notion, and though it could annoy Jack to no end, fact was it was a trait that he found endearing in the blacksmith. No simpleton, this -- he was quick of mind and unwilling to be used, and Jack's feelings for the man were tempered only by the respect he commanded. "Either you're lying about the ship and Anamaria, or about this gold being for us."



"You e'er stop to consider th' third option?" Jack glanced over; a few more powerful strokes and they'd be at the rocks.



"There is no third option, Jack."



"M'boy, there's always a third option." Pulling up alongside, Jack pulled the oars in and grabbed for a rocky outcropping. "Avast, matey." Will stifled an apparent urge to press the conversation and did as commanded, stepping out before turning to reach back in for two of the bags. Jack then stood; the small boat rocked, threatened to capsize, and he threw out both arms for balance, surprised when Will caught hold of one. Bending, Jack hauled up the satchel and alighted from the boat, still with the other man's help. Tossing off a jaunty salute, Jack nodded toward the top and led the way, nimbly stepping around the sharpest rocks until he'd reached the small, narrow ledge about twenty feet up.



Turning, he offered a hand and gave his newest crewman a pull up onto the ledge, having to put his back into it; he hadn't realized Will was that much heavier than himself. The smith looked slight, but he was a bit taller than Jack and broader in the shoulders and chest. With a toss of his dreadlocks, Jack turned and led the way along the ledge for a good thirty yards, until he reached the cave he'd scouted early that morning.



"Make bunk!" he announced, lowering his satchel to the ground and straightening to stretch out his arms and back. He was in excellent shape for thirty-seven, but the occasional ache had started creeping in if he didn't focus on keeping himself limber. As Will moved past him and set down his burdens, Jack couldn't stifle a grin at the thought of more pleasant exercises intended to stretch one's muscles, and his stomach performed a little somersault at the notion. Said stomach and his imagination had developed quite a good rapport over the past eight months. "Hungry, lad?"



Will lithely lowered himself to the outcropping and crossed his legs. "What time did you say the Pearl would return?"



Jack squinted into the west. "About three, four hours. 'S why I asked if you're hungry. Have some tack in th' pack," he gestured at his satchel, grinning wryly at his own poetry.



"No, thanks."



"Suit yourself." Jack crossed one ankle over the other and lowered himself into a seated position like Will's, with very little of a thud as his backside made contact with the rock. With some satisfaction, he noted Will's raised eyebrow, apparently impressed with the maneuver. "Ye can take a nap, or we can count th' constellations, mayhaps," he suggested, brushing rogue dreadlocks back off his shoulders with curved fingertips.



"I have a third option," Will retorted, and Jack chuckled silently, feeling the corners of his mouth lift into a genuine smile at the man's wit. "Tell me why you're here. Why you're really here."



"Are you implying mebbe I wasn' telling th' truth?"



"I'm outright saying it. I'm not stupid, Jack, contrary to your protestations to otherwise when I do something you don't like." He was quiet a moment. "Did you plan this?"



"Plan what? Me gettin' chased 'round your lovely isle by Commodore Stick-in-the-Arse an' his dour-faced poppets?" Jack sniffed, lifting his chin a bit. "Hardly. To check on you?" The pirate shrugged in honesty. "Mostly. Thought your Da might wan' me t' keep an eye on ye e'ery so often, see how you're doin'."



"That's actually kind of thoughtful, Jack." Will was nodding, his eyes still intent, and Jack suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Confound it all, why couldn't the lad look a little less bright? "Doesn't explain the gold, though. Not to mention three bags doesn't make a dent in what I saw stockpiled in that cave of Barbossa's."



"*My* cave, lad. Spoils for goin' wit'out th' Pearl an' a proper seafarin' life for s' long. Ne'er forget that; t'was ne'er his, th' scurrilous knave." Jack spat at the ground to his side, then turned to nod back inside the cave in front of which they were sitting. "Stashed a bit o' it in here 'fore she crawled out o' her bunk this morning, sides. Told 'er she had to come back if she wanted me t' tell 'er where I'd hid it."



Will furrowed his brow skeptically and craned forward to peer into the cave, which was rather small and shallow. Jack grinned as he watched the man recognize several burlap bags stacked at the back. "I'll be damned," he muttered, before returning to his normal position and laughing. "Anything you don't come prepared for, Captain?"



"Nay, 'tis me motto; be prepared." Jack held aloft his right hand in an oath, then folded all fingers down, extending his two forefingers upwards in a "V" as he counted, "With me sword an' me gun." He waved a hand airily at the western sky. "Now tell me, sailor, which one is the Northern Star?"



"Um … that's west, Jack."



"An' you say you don' have any pirate blood in ye."