Disclaimer – only going to say this once. I don't own any of the characters, props, or plots from PotC. Everything else is either a product of my own imagination, inspired by a review, or a conglomeration of my friends' personalities. So there.
A/N: Sorry this took so long, but the first half of the chapter was being a pain in the butt and wouldn't let me write it. That and there's this OUATIM story that is demanding to be written, but I told it to wait its turn, and now instead of Jack Sparrow I keep writing Agent Sands. It's just really annoying. Enjoy this. I'll try to have more up tomorrow or Sunday.
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Last Time:
"So am I," muttered Jack. Winn tried to laugh quietly, but merely got a near lethal glare in return for her pains. She shrugged and kissed him under his chin.
"What are your orders, Captain Sparrow?"
Still glaring at his rather unsympathetic wife, albeit without much actual malice, Jack called out to the waiting crewman, "I'll be there shortly. Tell Mr. Gibbs to prepare the ship and hoist the flag." The sound of retreating footsteps was the only answer to these commands.
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"Really Jack, I think you're making a big deal out of nothing. It's barely more than a scratch. And if anything more serious was wrong, I doubt I'd still be on my feet."
"You're not. I'm carrying you." It was true. Jack was in the midst of carrying his stubborn bride down the stairs to the galley were Leech not only reigned supreme, but also saw patients.
"And whose idea was that? It wasn't mine." Winn honestly couldn't see what the fuss was. Yes, she had nearly caught a pistol ball in the arm, but she hadn't. Yes, she had a nasty flesh wound and a powder burn or two, but it wasn't as if she were near death. "Truly, Jack, I can walk."
"Has it ever occurred to you that I simply enjoy having you in my arms?" Jack asked innocently.
"Has it ever occurred to you that I'm not so simple as to fall for an explanation like that?" Winn mimicked her husband's tone. "We both know that's not what has you acting as if I'm suddenly as delicate as porcelain, and twice as fragile." No, that is the sole result of a scratch. A scratch of all things! "Just think of this as a pleasant reminder of our first meeting. After all, a scratch was your excuse for bringing me onboard the Pearl in the first place."
Suddenly fed up with his wife, Jack set Winn down on her feet. Her ability to ignore whatever made her uncomfortable continued to amaze and frustrate him. Grabbing her arms before she could continue to the galley, he said in a very low and very serious voice, "We both know that's not what's bothering me. And if you had any sense whatsoever, you would be bothered too."
"No Jack. I can't be bothered." Winn too became serious. "You still have no idea, do you?" She searched his eyes. "I'm a coward by nature, Jack." He started to shake his head, ready to dispute her words, but she didn't give him the chance to interrupt. Raising her voice slightly, she continued before he could interrupt, "Every time I face something new or unsettling, I have to steel myself from running and never stopping. And every once in awhile, yes, I will ignore something for as long as it takes for me to stop feeling this mass of panic squeezing the life out of me. But I never forget. If you're thinking that I'm not taking that little scene up on the main deck seriously, then you're badly mistaken. That man was out for my blood, and I know that as well as you, and once I'm able to, I will do all I can to figure out why and then we will both eliminate the threat. I've worked hard for this life, Jack. I'm not about to give it up or do something foolish to put it all at risk, so don't accuse me of being thoughtless."
Jack smoothed the hair out of Winn's face. "I just want you to know that I'm here, Winnie. You're not the only one who's had to work hard. I didn't go through all that waiting, and fighting, and persuading, and a wedding ceremony only to lose this." While the words were only now voiced, after nearly four years, the sentiment behind them was not.
Neither Jack nor Winn were all that good at expressing emotions verbally. More often they were expressed through decipherable looks, hidden sketches, soft touches, or even the notes of a wood flute. There were times that their coupling was so rife with emotion and meaning that Winn would feel tears building along with the passion. Every fight, every disagreement only gave inaudible testimony to the strength and depth of their feelings for each other. Maybe they didn't mention love every day, but both knew it was there, and both knew how lucky they had been to find the other, even if it was never said aloud.
Captain and wife stood looking at each other for long minutes, both seeing the realization that life had come calling, the fear of what the death of one would mean to the other, the need to hide away and reaffirm their decision to carve out a life together.
Finally breaking the moment of silent communication, Winn took Jack's hand and said, "Let's go see Leech, if it will make you feel any better."
Later that afternoon, Jack stood at the Black Pearl's helm, his hand guiding his ship, his mind winding through a series of complicated twists and turns. His wife was asleep in their cabin, the events of this morning having had more affect on her than she was willing to admit. He supposed he should simply be grateful that she was alive to be stubborn, but the bigger threat that had been revealed wiped out any satisfaction he may have gotten from that small consolation.
This morning had been a bit of a surprise. Yes, the ship that his crew had spotted had been in distress. Considerable distress in fact. He'd go so far as to deny its being a ship in favor of calling it a derelict hulk of driftwood. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of her crew.
Whatever had possessed the crew of an English merchantman to lay a trap like that, he'd never know. Of course I know, or can at least postulate. Either cargo they had been carrying had been stolen by another crew, or they had found no market to sell it in, so they had turned pirate. And he was ready and willing almost begging himself to believe that. There was just one little problem. The fact that only a third of that crew had been sailors. If he had to guess, the rest had been mercenaries. Of course, that brought up the question of who hired mercenaries and then set them out to lay a rather uncertain trap off a no-name island in the middle of nowhere. And if they had found what they had been waiting for.
Things had started out normally enough. When he and Winn had appeared on deck – Winn in wig and spectacles, he in full pirate costume – the Pearl had been close enough to the other ship to see that it was in shape neither to sail nor resist a boarding party. He had wondered why they were even bothering to board; it didn't look as if the ship held anything worth seizing, but his crew was spoiling for a fight. That was enough to convince him. Unhappy crews had a way of turning on their captains, as he had discovered the hard way. If this worked off a bit of energy, then that was good enough for him.
He and his crew had watched as the other ship ran up a white flag. Surrender. Forfeit. Capitulation. Success. But in the moment before the Pearl came within firing range, the other ship had prematurely fired at them. At the time, Jack hadn't known what they were thinking. There was no way the other ship could come out in one piece in a sea battle. It was more likely that the explosions of the cannon would shake the ship to bits than the possibility that they would be able to drive the Pearl off. Such arrogance and stupidity annoyed Jack, so he had given the order to return fire.
After thoroughly disabling the other ship, he had led the Pearl in closer, determined to teach this crew the error of firing on a ship under false pretenses. It was fine for a ship flying the Jolly Roger, but this one was sailing under a Union Jack. So he had ordered his crew to board, after all, there were frightfully few men on deck. That's when all hell had broken loose.
Within moments of throwing and securing grapples and ropes, the doors and hatches leading to the cabins and lower decks had flown open, men pouring out of their gaping mouths. Extremely well armed men. In that moment, he had wished that he had ordered Winn to stay in the cabin, that he had locked her in himself. Then he was in the midst of battle and could no longer count regrets.
Jack and his crew and fought, and fought, and fought. Luckily for him, he kept the hands of his crew well armed, their stomachs well feed, and their pockets well lined, otherwise, it would have been slaughter. As it was, they held their own, enough for Jack to take a break from swinging his bloodied cutlass and look around for his wife. She too was holding her own, her own blade showing red. He felt a strong burst of pride and pleasure at the sight. Truly, no pirate could ask for a better mate.
But even the best swordsmen can be beaten by foul play. Just as Winn was turning to engage another man, a shot rang out, and Winn cried out as her sword fell from her hand. Jack had felt a moment of unnaturally strong and irrational fear, afraid that he had just lost his wife. However, her next cry was one of anger, not pain, and his fear retreated, leaving a mirror of her own anger in its place.
He had made his way through the crowd of men, quickly dispatching anyone who dared so much as to step in his way. He had been but a few feet from his wife when a hand had jerked her out of reach and he had found himself in a situation he had always dreaded. Finding an emotion used against him.
"Well, lookee what we gots 'ere. Jack Sparra' and his 'ore wife. I know a gent 'oo's gonna be very pleased t'see you." Bringing a knife up to Winn's throat he had said, "Tell your men to'drop their weapons, or th' miss 'ere is gonna find that red is 'er favorite color."
Jack had met Winn's eyes as he debated with himself. Yes, he treasured and valued his wife, but he was also a captain and responsible for his crew. Winn saw he was torn, and he saw that she saw. Her eyes filled with first understanding, and then determination. His had filled with what he was sure had been pure and absolute horror. The next thing he or the other man had known, Winn was standing over her former captor, his sword in her left hand, her foot planted firmly on his groin, and a thin trail of blood slowly trailing down her neck.
With the fall of this man, the other crew had seemingly lost heart in their fight. Well, we know who the leader here is. Jack had ordered his crew to round up the fighters and throw them off the side of the boat facing away from the Pearl. They had all managed to swim to the tiny island off the port side before they ship's load of gunpowder had blown their transportation into splinter sized pieces. The only thing they took of the ship was the leader who had threatened Winn, and the ship's flag.
"Capt'n?" Jack looked up from his thoughts to see Gibbs at his elbow.
"What is it Gibbs?" The man had a troubled look on his face. Whatever news he had, Jack knew he wasn't going to like it.
"Well Capt'n. I think that you might want and go see to our visitor."
Jack turned back to surveying the sea in front of him. "And why would I like to do that? To reassure myself that he is riding in the lap of luxury, that no difficulty has befallen him? Let the man wait. Let him rot down there until I feel like talking to him, and then he'll wish that I had forgotten about him."
"That may be difficult, Jack."
Sparrow turned to his first mate, his lips pursed and his brow wrinkled in comical and sarcastic inquiry. "Why's that?"
"He's dead."
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Author's Thanks: I'm sorry, but I had no time to go through and write personal ones to everyone. I'm going to try to get around to that sooner or later, but I don't know when I'll be able to.
So, in that case, here's a general thanks.
BeBe, Savvylicious, jigglykat, lilitaliandragon, Mrs.NC, PeleAmelika, bobo3, mooranda, KamikazeCreamPuff, captainsparrowsfeistylass, Phoenix Flight, TaraRose, KawaiiRyu, Erica, Bright Eyes, Penny, jackfan2, Ariandir, Rose, eva, SuzzieQue, Mooney
