Author's Note:  I'm so sorry this took so long to get out!  I really must apologize.  I never wanted to be one of those people who update once a week.  I really miss the opportunity to update everyday, but circumstances are against me now that summer is over and fall is in full swing.

Also, I've been fighting to come up with a reasonable storyline that will keep everyone in character in the next few chapters.  I know where I want to go with this story, it's just keeping Jack in particular in character that is giving me fits of perplextion and bouts of whining.  I've had to go back and reread parts of 'Inconvenient' to make sure that I know what I'm doing.  For some reason Agent Sands keeps coming through instead of Jack Sparrow and it's driving me crazy.  I refuse to write more than one story at a time, so I'm making Sands wait his turn, but he's not very patient.

Hope you enjoy this chapter.  I will strive to get another one up tonight, and one up tomorrow, and hopefully Sunday.  Author's thanks in the next chapter.

Thank you all for your patience.

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The time that was last:

  What came next had been an accident, truly.  With the abrupt pain of the bullet tearing through muscle and flesh, Winn's hand had contracted around the pistol she had been idly gesturing with.  It had gone off, firing its single round directly into the man's heart.  His death had been instantaneous.  Hers had hovered for weeks before deciding it wasn't yet her time.

   But in the back of her mind she had never forgotten what that hovering had felt like.

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Winn came to herself after finishing her story to find Jack's hand rubbing her abdomen, rubbing over the scar left by a wound inflicted ever so long ago.  It was a tender caress, like so many of his were now.  Winn was tempted to let it lull her to sleep in order to avoid the upcoming conversation, but she knew that no matter how hard she ran, she couldn't run far.  That was the disadvantage of being on a ship with one's husband for weeks and months on end.  There was a limited amount of time one could avoid the other.  "Life is never simple, is it?"

   Jack heard the dual notes of wistfulness and wry humor in her voice.  "No, love.  It's not."

   "Is it just us, or just me?  Or is this something that afflicts everyone now and again?"

   Jack took a moment to think.  "Well, now that I think about it, my life has been considerably more difficult since I met you . . . ."

   "Jack!"  Winn tried to turn and face her husband in mock outrage, but he wouldn't let her.  This was going to be a difficult enough discussion to have without having to look Winn in the eyes and see all her hurt and anger and outrage. 

   As if she could sense the direction of his thoughts, Winn asked, "What's wrong, Jack?"

   "Someone makes a rather bold and ambiguous threat against your life today, and you ask me what's wrong?  It seems as if I should be the one asking who may be out to get you.  Who has a grudge against you and the means to carry it out?"

   "I don't want to talk about this right now, Jack.  I'm tired and my mind isn't as clear as it should be.  Besides, wouldn't it be more productive to ask our guest those questions?  Surely he must know more about all this than I do."

   "I wouldn't doubt that, love.  However, seeing as how the man is currently dead, and that is an affliction that seems unlikely to change in the near future –"

   "Jack Sparrow!  Please tell me you didn't kill that man before we had a chance to question him."

   "Would it matter if I did?  It's my right.  The man threatened the life of my wife and possibly my crew."  He could feel the outrage in his wife's small body.  "I know you think you're indestructible at times, Winnie, but the truth is you're not.  And I have every right to safeguard you in any way I see fit."

   Winn was definitely not appreciative of the direction this conversation was heading.  "It seems to me that we've already had this discussion once today.  To reiterate the pertinent points, I'm not made of porcelain, Jack.  Not only do I know quite a bit about protecting and defending myself, but also you've taught me much on that matter since I came on board.  And it wasn't as if that man actually hurt me today.  A scratch was all he landed, and that was only because I was distracted at the time.  Being shot usually does that.  But I got away from him.  I'm safe."  A tear leaked out of her eye and was absorbed by her pillow.  A bit overtired perhaps, but physically unharmed nonetheless.  "Why isn't that enough for you?"

   "Because what if the next time we're not so lucky?"

   "You can't live your life based on 'next times,' Jack."

   "You used to live your life based on last times.  Why should this be any different?"

   "Because I was wrong to do that!" Winn exploded in irritation.  As soon as the words had left her mouth, she felt regret for reacting so strongly.  Her emotions were wildly out of control.  Must be more tired than I thought.  I don't usually snap like that.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to yell."  With a deep sigh she continued, "I know that I used to do that.  But it was wrong of me to let my past color my present so strongly.  You helped me learn that.  You're still helping me learn that.  And if something from my past has come back to haunt me, then I need to face it with you, not send you out to face it for me."  An idea popped into her head suddenly.  "Besides, how do we know that this wasn't because of your checkered past?  You've most likely offended a lot more people that I have."

   Uncomfortable with the thought of something he had done being the cause of the threat to his wife, Jack said, "That may very well be, but you're forgetting one thing."

   "If you say, 'I'm Captain Jack Sparrow,' I will slap you," muttered Winn rebelliously.

   Jack smiled.  While she may have sounded sulky, that was the sort of thing that he expected Winn to say.  "Actually, I was going to say that our dearly departed friend said that he knew someone who wanted to meet you, not me."

   "What if this mystery person wanted to use me to hurt you?"

   "Do you have any concept of how melodramatic you sound right now?"

   "And no one out for revenge is ever melodramatic?  Is that what you're trying to tell me?"  She snorted.  "I think you of all people would know better.  I can't believe this is coming from the man who carried around the same pistol for ten years simply so he could shoot his first mate who led a mutiny against him with the same bullet he had been given to kill himself with on a deserted island.  You're right, that's not the least bit melodramatic."  Silence reigned in the cabin for several minutes before Winn thought to ask, "You never did tell me if you were the one to kill out friend down in the brig.  Is that because you forgot, or because you did and simply don't want to tell me?"

   "How is it that you never forget anything I fail to tell you?  Can't you ever just let things rest until I'm ready to tell you?"

   "Aren't you the one who said, 'Why ever would I want to distract the bulldoggish tenacity of your mind?  I'm sure that nothing less than a herd of wild elephants could pry you from your set purpose'?"

   "I said that?"  Jack sounded puzzled.  "When did I say that?"

   "The day you shanghaied me."

   "Oh.  What were we arguing about?"

   "You're avoiding my original question, Jack.  Believe me when I say that I notice what you're doing and that I don't appreciate it."

   "You're turning into such a shrew, Winnie.  Perhaps I ought to start beating you."

   "Jack."

   "All right, all right.  No.  I didn't kill the man we brought on board.  He killed himself."

   Now that she was getting answers, Winn felt her temper settling.  "How?  I thought the men disarmed him."

   "They did, but apparently he had some poison secreted somewhere on his person.  It was probably so he could kill himself in case of this very outcome – so no one could torture information out of him.  Some of these mercenaries – or more likely an assassin – are very loyal to whomever has hired them."

   "That seems like a strange trait."

   "Yes, well, no more strange than some of the pirates you'll find sailing the seas."

   "Good point."  With some trepidation Winn asked, "So what do we do now?  We have no idea what that man's purpose was or who he was working for, or if he was even working for anyone.  Perhaps word had simply reached him that there is someone seeking either you or I for private purposes and he thought he could make a bit of money from it.  Or perhaps –"  A knock on the door interrupted her.  "How many times is that going to happen today?"

   Jack shrugged.  "Who is it and what do you want?"

   "It's Gibbs, sir.  We found something on our friend, and I thought you might want to take a look at it."

   "What kind of something?"  Jack was loathe to let anything interrupt this conversation, but if it was important, then perhaps he could use it to convince his wife to leave the ship of her own free will.

   "Two bits of a letter, sir."

    "I think we'd better look at this sooner rather than later, Jack."  Sooner so I can convince you that I'm in no danger and you can stop acting like a mother hen with a sickling chick.

   Jack got out of bed and donned his breeches.  Walking to the door, he opened it and asked Gibbs quietly, "Why didn't you bring this to me sooner?  It can't have taken this long to search the man."

   "Well, y'see Jack, we didn't want to interrupt anythin' that might have been happenin' between you and the missus."  Gibbs smiled conspiratorially.  "The crew may not have caught on at first, but by now we all know that it isn't wise to interrupt when you're closeted away with the lass."

   Muttering curses and insults under his breath, Jack took the offered papers from Gibbs' hand.  "Was that all?"

   "The crew was also wonderin' if ye'd be joinin' us for dinner tonight, Capt'n.  They're in the mood to celebrate the win of a good fight."

   "Yes, of course we'll come and join you."  Both men turned when Winn spoke up.  She was standing just behind Jack, dressed in one of his shirts.  As long as she held the neck closed, it covered her completely from shoulders to practically her kneecaps with plenty of material to spare.  "Now, if you will excuse us so we can look over the information?"

   Gibbs nodded and left.  As he closed the door behind the departing seaman, Jack asked, "Was that entirely necessary?  I would have ended the conversation soon anyway."

   "Yes, but you would have declined to join the men for dinner.  We need to let them know that we're both alright and that the Captain remains strong and sure, not distracted from his duties.  You know that, just as I know we'd both rather stay alone in here and have our own celebration and reassurance."  She stroked the side of his face.  "Besides, I was getting hot.  I thought it might be cooler without all the blankets.  What's in the letters?"

   "If you let me focus, I could tell you."

   "Or you could hold the papers where we both could read them."  Before Jack could answer, Winn's legs gave out from under her and she nearly collapsed.  Only Jack's quick reflexes saved her from having a sore rear end.

   While he was more than mildly concerned, Jack knew that anything he said was just going to irritate Winn.  It chafed her to think that she was not as self-sufficient as she wished she were.  With no more than mild admonishment in his voice, Jack said, "I think you need to take another nap before dinner.  Or even skip dinner altogether.  The men will understand –"

   "The men will think I'm some kind of weak, puling, woman who can't handle a simple flesh wound," interrupted Winn.

   If my darling wife is this cantankerous now, what is she going to be like when she's an old woman?  She won't be fit to live with.  The thought brought an absurd amount of pleasure to him.  Shifting his hold on her so he could carry her back to the bed, Jack said, "If they think such a thing after living through numerous fights with you, then they're more stupid than even I can give them credit for, and I need to dismiss them all and pick up a new crew."  Setting Winn down in the bed, he continued, "Take a nap and we can discuss things when you wake up."

   "No."  Winn shook her head resolutely.  "You're going to read those letters and then come up with some kind of plan and reasonable arguments to support it, and then I'll be at a disadvantage when you decide you want to do something I think is too risky."

   "Yes, well, that is my prerogative as captain.  And as captain, I'm ordering you to rest."

   "I'm your wife, not a member of your crew, Jack Sparrow.  You can't order me around."

   "You're Winifred Sparrow, and as your husband I most certainly do get to order you around."

   "I'm Winn Morgan Sparrow, and as a Morgan I outrank you and don't have to listen to your orders."  The demands of her body were another matter entirely.  Her eyes were fast overcoming her determination to keep them open.  She contained a yawn as a wave of sleepiness rolled through her mind and body.  If she didn't compromise she was going to lose, and she hated losing.  "At least read the letters out loud so we can both get the information at the same time."

   Jack smiled in an indulgent way that made Winn want to harangue him, but she lacked the energy at the moment.  As soon as I'm feeling up to it though, he's a dead man.  She watched with heavy eyes as he walked across the room to pick up the papers from where he had dropped them on the floor so he could catch her.  She watched as he walked back across the room to take a seat beside her on the bed.  She listened as he began to read the letters out loud, leaned against him as her eyes demanded to be allowed to rest, wrapped an arm around his as her mind started to drift from the attention she was giving his words.

   Jack smiled as he felt Winn sag against him, as he heard her breathing level out into the deep and steady inhalations of sleep.  His wife was stubborn, but not even she could hold off sleep.  But behind the smile was a hint of worry.  Normally she would put up a bit more of a fight.  She would have paced around the cabin, asked for something to drink.  Telling himself that it was nothing more than the pleasant and unpleasant exertions of the day catching up to her, he kept reading the letters, albeit silently as to avoid waking his slumbering wife.