Author's Note: sorry about the long wait for this chapter.  But it's that time of year.  Lots of socializing, and shopping, and other activities.  Not to mention my birthday and PotC viewings.  ^_^  And houseguests.  Oh, and a lack of inspiration.  But I think I'm over that for the moment.

Please, tell me what you think of my characterization of Norrington.  He's another one of those people that it's hard to get a good read of.

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"One question about your business, boy, or there's no use going.  This girl . . . how far are you willing to go to save her?"  Jack really didn't care what was prompting the lad to go after his 'bonnie lass,' but something made him ask anyway.

   "I'd die for her."

   "Oh, good.  No worries then."  He didn't mention that he thought that the boy was an idiot for risking life and limb for a woman who most likely didn't and wouldn't return his regards any more than he mentioned the real reason that he was willing to let the lad tag along.  Not that he planned to leave the son of a friend to certain death at the hand of bloodthirsty, vicious, cruel, demented pirates.  But it was in his own best interests that the kid had an incentive of his own to chase after the Pearl.

   The Pearl.  The chance to get his hands back on her was all that mattered.

   Thing shifted, as they often do in dreams, leaving Jack with a new scene to watch.  There was woman lying on a bed, moaning in pain.  The sound ripped though him, and four years worth of memories followed close on its heels.  Raiding the Kestrel; fighting with Winn; staring down the barrel of a pistol into a pair of hard blue eyes; fighting with Winn; marrying Winn; Winn leaving him; Winn coming back to him; traveling with Winn; fighting with Winn; loving Winn . . . loving . . . loving led to other things at times.

   Winn was pregnant.  With his child.  She needed help.

   "How far are you willing to go to save her?"  Jack turned and found he'd been addressed by himself – or a version of his past self.  The one that had asked Will the same question.

   Almost by route, without realizing what he said or how true his words were, he answered, "I'd die for her."

   "That won't get the Pearl back," the person he'd been five years before observed.  "Nor will it bring you much treasure."

   "Not all treasure is silver and gold."  When had the sage wisdom he'd once handed out to Will come to apply to him?

   The other Jack shrugged and turned away, as if washing his hands of the man before him.

   Again the scene changed.  This time Jack was standing above a large crowd and there was a loud voice droning on in the background.  The voice was very official sounding.  It was also boring.  Jack reached up to scratch the back of his neck, but his hands were tied together at the wrists.  Oh.

   Then there was a drum roll . . .

   . . . and a rope around his neck . . .

   . . . and air under his feet . . .

   . . . and nothing to stop his fall this time . . . .

   "No!"  His fall stopped before the rope could pull taught.  "You promised me.  You made an oath . . . a vow.  You can't leave me.  Not now.  Not ever."

   Why did the bloody woman have to argue with everything he said and did?  "Winnie, love, it's a little late to object."

   "Find another way, Jack.  Please.  I can't do this alone.  You have to keep your promise."

   "Winnie –"

   "What's wrong, Jack?  Cant you figure out a way to stay alive?  Have you finally run out of ideas?  Don't you love me enough to try?  Or are you all talk and no substance?"

   Jack felt his temper starting to boil.  "Are you trying to upset me, love, or is that merely a side benefit?"

   "Are you willing to fight for me yet?  Or do I need to keep goading?"  A new light entered her eyes.  "Or would a different type of persuasion work better?"  She swayed over to him, a flirtatious smile gracing her lips.  Gently, she took his head in both her hands, twining her fingers into the ropes of his hair, massaging his scalp.  She searched his eyes and face for a moment before drawing his head down and meeting his lips with her insistent ones.  One of her hands came down to stroke and caress his face and jaw.

   Jack could feel everything she was feeling – the pleasure at being close to him, the terror at losing him, the anger that he wasn't fighting, and the determination to remind him of what he was missing.  She stretched up onto her toes, leaning into him, and he remembered the feel of the life growing inside her body, and her desire for their child to know both its parents.

   Presently she pulled her head away from his and rested it against his chest, right over his heart.  "Say you'll try to find another way, Jack."

   He could do nothing else but acquiesce to her softly spoken demand.  "I'll try, Winnie."

  She looked up at him and smiled.  "That's all I needed to hear."

Jack woke up from his dream with a bit of a start.  He hadn't meant to fall asleep after reading the reply to his request for help, but the last three or so weeks of stress and captivity had taken their toll on him.

   However, he was glad that he had fallen asleep.  He'd once heard Winn mutter something along the lines of "dreams are answers to questions we don't know how to ask."  He was willing to believe that now – the past few hours had been nothing but frustration after frustration as no viable plan came to him.  Despite his willing surrender to the British, Jack was anything but willing to surrender to the noose.

   But his mind had stumbled on a plan as he slept . . . or at least the beginnings of one.  A risky, dangerous, foolhardy, life-threatening plan, but a plan nonetheless.  And if it worked – and it would if Marcus chose the right man – he'd have all the time he needed to kill Gandolfi with the navy (and especially Norrington) none the wiser.  He doubted that Winn was going to like it – in fact, he had the feeling that she'd have such a strong reaction to it that he wasn't going to tell her.

   She'll kill you for sure, if this actually works and you don't die in the process.

   She'd kill me just for thinking about it, so I may as well go the extra mile.  I can always squirm my way back into her good graces.

   Are you sure about that?

   Reasonably.  He hoped he was right.

Winn had had a rough night.  The poison in her system had eased up enough that her pain had stopped and she could sleep without appearing dead, but it hadn't released her entirely.  She was often short of breath, confused, and her eyesight was still fuzzy.

   But the worst part, aside from the weakness and confusion, were her moments of lucidity.  One moment she would be lying quietly, listening to whoever was talking to her, and in the next moment, memory would wash over her like a creeper wave and her eyes would flood with tears and recrimination.

   It was horrible to sit at her bedside and listen to her rain curses down on Gandolfi for threatening the lives of her child and husband; on the men of her lineage for getting into piracy in the first place; on her husband for leaving her and allowing himself to fall into British hands; and on herself for placing her child and husband at risk.  And all of these were accompanied by a mask of tears and blank realization.

   It had been a long night for Winn's friends an family as well.  They hadn't wanted to leave her alone through the night, so they had taken turns sitting up with her.  But morning had finally broken, and Winn was resting comfortably, so it was safe for them to regroup and plan their tactics for the day.

   Grace, Will, Elizabeth, and Marcus were all sitting at the kitchen table, cups of coffee and tea sitting in front of them.  Elizabeth and Will each had a sleeping child in their lap and Grace was thinking that hers would be up soon, but no one was willing to leave quite yet.

   "What do you think Jack's planning?"  Will asked the question they were all wondering, keeping his voice down to avoid waking his daughter who was sleeping in his arms.  Addressing Marcus he continued, "You think that boy is connected to Jack in some way."

   Marcus sighed, and squeezed the hand his wife placed in his.  "From what Jack said, I'd assume that, yes, the boy has something to do with whatever Jack is planning.  I just wish I knew what was going on in his head – what he has in mind."

   "What make you think he even knows what he's going to do yet?"  Everyone turned to Elizabeth.  She adjusted the boy sleeping in her arms out of discomfort, but continued on.  "I know that Jack makes plans in advance – he has to be able to do so to survive – but I know how I felt when Will was taken by Barbossa.  I didn't have a specific plan in mind.  I just knew that I had to get him back."  As the memories from years ago once again became fresh in her mind, she felt an incredible empathy for her friend's husband.  The time when she didn't quite trust him had passed, thanks to his devotion to Winn.  She swallowed and finished her thought.  "I just think that Jack has so much on his mind that he'd working off of where he is and what he wants the outcome of this all to be."

   "And the boy?"

   Elizabeth looked at her husband and smiled wryly.  "I think Jack's hedging his bets."

   Marcus had to admit that her theory sounded much in keeping with his brother-in-law.  Rubbing his face with both hands, he said through a yawn, "That sounds entirely plausible.  Too bad I can't come right out and ask him."

   "Why can't you?"  Grace sounded puzzled and a little alarmed.

   Had he really forgotten to mention the strange talk he'd had with Jack before the boy/pirate had come to collect the note?  Marcus thought back to his arrival at the house the day before and remembered the level of anxiety that had had everyone on tenterhooks.  Guess I did forget.  And then the boy came here, and I sent someone to deliver the note to the garrison for Jack, and then I went in and saw Freddy . . . .  "Jack asked me to stay away from him for awhile.  I think he's afraid that I might draw the wrong kind of attention down on myself and the family.  And Winn."  He got up from the table, trying to stifle another yawn.  "Nonetheless, I must go into work today.  If I'm extremely lucky, Commodore Norrington will actually have time to talk to me.  Things were too distracting aboard the Redemption for us to have a decent discussion about what our prisoner was up to."

   "I know that James . . . the Commodore . . . can be overly formal at times, Marcus, but he has a good heart," Elizabeth said hesitantly.  Marcus looked at her and nodded, a sign that she should continue.  "Just remember that he let Jack go once.  And I still don't think that he's eager to hang him."

   The young captain nodded again.  "I agree with you.  I think most of what went on while we were aboard ship was assurance for the men.  Most other commanders would have strung Jack up the moment it looked like he had harmed a woman and her unborn child.  I'll admit Norrington is just, but if Jack doesn't start cooperating and stop telling wild confabulations, a desire for justice isn't going to be of any use whatsoever."

   Marcus left the room and its occupants to their conversation and went upstairs to change his uniform, stopping to poke his head into his sister's room on the way in.  It occurred to him to be surprised that the Commodore hadn't recognized her.  Winn was a fairly regular visitor to Port Royal.  But it's not as if she ever socializes with anyone outside of us and the Turners.  Then a thought occurred to him that made his blood run cold – Winn had come to the Caribbean on the same ship as Elizabeth.  A ship that Norrington had been a lieutenant on.  If his commanding officer spent any time in close quarters with Winn, he was bound to remember.  But then, maybe their luck would hold.

   After assuring himself that Winn was still asleep, Marcus went to his room and quickly changed, the new implications of their situation turning themselves in his mind.  I should tell Grace, but I'm due at the fort soon.  He finished tying his cravat and adjusting his wig.  I'll have to settle for telling her not to let Norrington talk to Winn until I've a better idea of what to do about all this.

   Quickly descending the stairs, Marcus headed for the kitchen, but was distracted by voices coming from the front door.

   "I was told that Mr. and Mrs. Turner were here, ma'am.  Could you please send for them?"  Grace stood at the front door, watching a man in army crimson as he tried to cajole her into doing as he asked.  By the looks of the man, he was a lowly private who was barely old enough to grow the golden stubble gracing his cheeks.  And if the conditions of his clothing was any indication, he'd been roused straight from the bunks to deliver his message.

   "Is there a problem, private?"  Grace surrendered her position at the door to her husband, retreating to the kitchen to undoubtedly spread the news.

   The young man saluted.  "Captain Morgan.  I apologize for my current state of dress, sir, but Commodore Norrington sent me to pass along a message to the Turners.  I went to their house and their housekeeper informed me that they had already come and gone.  When I asked where they were, she sent me here."

   "Yes, the Turners are here, but they've been up most of the night with a visitor.  If the Commodore wants to see them right away, I'd be happy to pass along their regrets.  Can you tell me what the message is about?"

   "Yes, sir.  It involves the woman that was brought aboard the Redemption three days ago."

   "Is that all?"

   "No, sir.  I believe the Commodore also wished to discuss Mister Sparrow with them."

   Marcus nodded.  "I don't believe the Turners will be prepared to meet with the Commodore until later today.  But I'll accompany you back to the fort and explain the matter to him myself."  The private looked relieved.  "Just let me make my farewells to my family."  He gestured for the man to take a seat in a conveniently placed chair.  "At ease, private . . .?"

   "Hudson, sir."

   "At ease then, private Hudson.  This will only take a moment."

   The moment he walked into the kitchen, Marcus started talking before he could be bombarded with questions.  "Will, Elizabeth, can you be ready to meet with the Commodore at the fort by noon?"

   The looked at each other and then at the children.  "Today is Agatha's day off.  We don't have anyone to watch the children."

   "Don't be silly.  Leave them here."

   "Grace, that's kind, but . . ."

   "I know they're a handful, but even when adding them to my brood, it's less than I deal with at times.   And they can't get into any more trouble than my other nieces and nephews do."

   "Then that's that.  Make sure to dress the part of respectable citizens.  I believe Norrington has some suspicions about our recent castaway."

   Elizabeth paled.  "You mean he doesn't know who Winn is?  But he was on a ship with her for nearly five months when we made the crossing from England."

   "That was nearly thirteen years ago, and Freddy didn't exactly volunteer the information herself.  Of course, it's entirely plausible that she didn't recognize the man.  But it seems that Norrington has remembered who she is, and now he wants answers."  Marcus got ready to leave, and hesitated.  Forewarned is forearmed.  "Norrington also wants to talk to you about Jack.  Tell as much of the truth that you can without revealing his connection to Freddy."  Stunned silence met this, and Marcus slipped out the kitchen doors, rejoining the private in the entryway, and exiting the house to the waking city outside.

Something about the woman had been nagging at him since her first morning aboard the Redemption. 

   The Crown had finally seen fit to send out a new ship designed to chase pirates to it's stash of soldiers and navymen in the Caribbean, with the promise of a new flagship to soon follow.  Norrington had been more than pleased by this – the Dauntless was starting to need more and more repairs at closer intervals.  It was only to be expected – the ship was nearing fifteen years of service – the new arrival was more than welcome, and Norrington had jumped at the chance to take her out.

   Of course, he'd let the captain that would be commanding her the most take charge, but he'd gone along.  It was good for the men to work alongside their commanding officers, and even better was the break in the monotony that was running the Fort Royal garrison.  Norrington hadn't been expecting much excitement on this trip, so when he'd seen Jack Sparrow in that rowboat, he'd felt a sinking sensation in his stomach.

   Now, as pirates went, Sparrow was one of the better ones.  People were rarely killed in raids he led, and he seemed to enjoy the challenge of finding impossible ways to make a landfall more than he enjoyed shedding blood.  And he could even be considered a help at (rare) times.  But the man was still a pirate, and he still broke the Crown's laws, and Norrington was still the highest authority of those laws in the southeastern Caribbean.

   For a split second he'd even hesitated in his decision to take Sparrow into custody, but then the woman in the ship had become apparent, and the dynamics of the entire situation had changed.  Norrington took his responsibilities very seriously, and took the lives placed under his care even more seriously.  And no matter how amused he might secretly be by Sparrow's bumblings, he had to ignore that when it appeared that an English citizen had been harmed.

   But this time, there was more to it than that.  There were two nagging sensations that wouldn't release him from their insinuating grip.

   The first was the feeling that he'd seen the woman somewhere before.  That impression held him for the entire duration of her stay on the Redemption, through the first time he'd spoken to her and gotten her name, and through the night after they'd arrived safely back in Port Royal with Sparrow in firm yet impersonal custody.  Something about her face was familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on what it was.  And then it'd come to him early that morning.  She'd said her name was Winifred.  There had been a Winifred traveling with the Swanns when they'd first traveled on the Dauntless to assume the governorship of Jamaica.  She'd had that same dark hair and skin.  Even though her face and form had changed with time, some air about her had stayed the same, some desire to go about unnoticed.  So that was the first snag holding him back from peace of mind.

   The second was the belief that he was in some way responsible for the woman's current condition. 

   The simple, unadorned truth of the matter was that he had let Sparrow go those five years ago.  He'd let the convicted words of a brash blacksmith and his own sense of fair play and disappointment overrule his better judgment.  Yes, the man had indeed saved lives, but he'd also shown that he couldn't be trusted.  Or at least, he couldn't be trusted in the same way that most men could be trusted.

   So Norrington was left with the feeling that if Mrs. Winifred Smith died, her blood would be on his hands for releasing a pirate on nothing more than faith that the man was better than most of his kindred.  Norrington didn't like that feeling.

   Today.  Today I need answers.  He went to the door of his quarters within the fort and spoke to the man on duty there.  He needed to speak to Captain Morgan, and he needed to talk to the Turners.  He wanted Elizabeth to talk to her friend.  Perhaps Mrs. Morgan wouldn't turn aside an old family friend in the same way she brushed off his attempts to speak to the woman. And Will, he needed Will in particular to speak to the pirate. 

   So far, Sparrow had ducked all attempts at getting him to speak of the events that had led to his occupying the same boat as a woman in extreme physical distress.  He'd managed to speak of just about everything else he'd done in the five years since he'd spent a night in Port Royal's jail, but the one bit of information that Norrington needed, Sparrow refused to give.  Norrington didn't know if this was because Sparrow didn't want to incriminate himself, or if he simply didn't care, or if he honestly didn't know, but needed answers.  He refused to hang a man with more on his account than was due him.

   Yes.  Hang.  That couldn't be avoided now.  The men under his command would revolt if he let the pirate escape for a third time, especially after the sailors from the Redemption spread their version of what had happened to the woman.  And the law that he represented demanded it.  It should be a simple enough decision to make and arrange for.

   So why did he get the feeling that something about this entire situation was horribly wrong?

-Knock, knock, knock-

   "Enter."  Norrington looked up from the piles of reports and inventories and intelligence that were on his desk, grateful for the interruption.  A young man in a rumpled uniform entered the office, a faint blush staining his cheeks, although his face stayed impassive.

   "Commodore Norrington, sir.  Captain Morgan to see you."  The young captain was just a step behind the private, his appearance a sharp contrast to the younger man.

   The commodore wondered where the Turners were, but set aside that question for later.  "Very well.  You're dismissed."  The young man saluted and left the room, closing the door behind him.  "Please, have a seat, captain."

   Marcus took the empty seat across from his commanding officer.  "Thank you for seeing me, sir.  I know you weren't planning to this morning."

   "It's quite alright, Captain.  I was wondering how your wife's patient was doing this morning."

   Marcus shrugged.  "No better, but no worse.  Grace seems confident that the most severe symptoms have passed.  However, there are secondary afflictions that are lingering and disrupting sleep for the entire household."

   "And for the Turners as well, undoubtedly."

   "Sir?"

   "They are close friends with Mrs. Smith, are they not?  I seem to remember her as being a ward of Governor Swann at one point, although she seemed to all but disappear once we had reached Port Royal thirteen years ago.  Have they discovered that their childhood friend has been found?"

   "Yes, sir.  I was just wondering how you knew.  Mrs. Smith mentioned something about an Elizabeth Swann once she learned we were in Port Royal, and Grace, being the woman she is, sent for them immediately hoping to comfort the poor woman."  It was close enough to the truth that Marcus didn't feel too guilty about leaving out some rather important information.  "That's one of the reasons I needed to see you.  The Turners were at my home all night, staying up with Mrs. Smith.  They're exhausted and unkempt, and send their pardons and a message asking if it would be alright if they come in around noon."

   Norrington waved a hand in silent acceptance.  "Tell me, Captain, has your houseguest said anything more about what may have happened between her and Mister Sparrow?"

   "No, sir."  No, Winn had done nothing but curse her husband for surrendering himself to the Crown.  And she'd apologized for putting him in the position where he would feel such a thing were necessary.

   "Well, then any course of action we decide upon must wait, I suppose."  Norrington didn't sound happy with the thought.  "Thank you for your time, Captain.  I know you have other business that needs you attention.  You are free to leave."

   Marcus needed more information, not a dismissal.  "Commodore –"

   "You're dismissed, Captain.  I have work to get done if I'm to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Turner."

   Marcus knew that he wasn't going to get anything more from his superior, so he stood up and left.

"Turner, Elizabeth, it's good to see your both well after your long night.  Captain Morgan tells me that his guest is not the most restful of patients."

   "No, she's not."  Elizabeth and Will came into the room, Will shaking Norrington's proffered hand, Elizabeth allowing him to whisper a kiss across her knuckles as was proper.  "However, she seemed exhausted when we left her.  With any luck, she's still sleeping peacefully.  Heaven knows she needs it."  Taking their seats, Elizabeth looked over at her husband – he still felt somewhat awkward during social visits, although he portrayed much more confidence than he once had.  She felt pride rise up within her.  He had a reason for his confidence.  He was a gifted craftsman, successful businessman, caring father, and devoted husband.  No one had any right to judge him.

   Norrington took his own seat behind his desk once his guests had seated themselves.  "Thank you for coming, both of you.  I promise not to keep you for too long, although I must admit to needing your help."

   "Of course, Commodore.  Whatever Elizabeth and I can do for you."

   "Thank you, Mr. Turn–" Norrington interrupted himself, "Will."

   Will was surprised by Norrington's use of his first name.  To his knowledge, the commodore hadn't addressed him as such since he'd turned fourteen or fifteen.  He was also surprised by the request.  If he was willing to go to such a personal level, then his requests must be serious indeed.

   "First, I need you both to confirm a suspicion that has been plaguing me for some time now."  The couple nodded.  "Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Winifred Smith, she's the woman who was under Governor Swann's care, is she not?"

   "Yes, that's Winn."  Elizabeth decided to answer this question, seeing as how Winn was the closet thing she'd ever had to a sibling.  "It was quite a shock to find her in such a condition."

   "I can imagine.  Do you have any idea what she may have been doing in Mr. Sparrow's company?"

   Will and Elizabeth looked at each other, then at Norrington.  "If you're asking if Jack kidnapped her, or coerced her into being with him, the answer is no.  Winn is happily married, to the best of our knowledge.  If she was found drifting in a boat with Jack, there must be another reason for it."  And there was, just not one that Elizabeth could say.

   Norrington let out a frustrated sigh.  "Then that brings me to my next request.  Will, I need you to talk to Sparrow."

   "Why's that, Commodore?  I haven't seen the man for nearly five years."  And to the best of Norrington's knowledge, he hadn't.

   "I'm hoping that you can get more than fish stories out him.  Sparrow refuses to either defend or implicate himself.  If I didn't know better, I'd suspect him of having some kind of hidden agenda, although I can't imagine what he might have gotten into that would make turning himself over to the law an attractive opportunity.  I'm hoping that he'll be a bit more open with you than he is with me or any of the other men who have tried talking to him."

   Will shrugged.  "I'll give it a try, of course, but I'm not sure you should expect him to say anymore to me than he's said to you."  If what Marcus had said was true, Jack would order him not to pass along anything he might be able to share.

   "Again, thank you."  Norrington rose and went to the door.  "Lieutenant Williams will show you where Sparrow is staying.  Elizabeth, you are free to go or stay, but I advise you not to go near the cell block – it's no place for a lady."

   Elizabeth met her husband's eyes and made a decision.  "I'll stay here, then.  I'd like to hear more of how Winn was found, if you don't mind."

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Go Here!!!  An interesting link to some fanart for 'Inconvenient' by a very talented reader.  Take out the spaces though – ff.net won't let me put the address up without them  *grr*: http : // img 5 . photobucket . com / albums / v15 / NeonDaisies /winnie_jack.jpg

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