Author's Note: I hate to tell you this, but I'm running out of material for this fic.  I'm thinking I've only another four chapters until I'm done.  Rest assured, I have more projects in my head than I can tell you, and those will be available to you some week or two after this is done.  I'll give you more details once I'm sure of what they are.  For the moment, sit back and enjoy this segment.

Disclaimer: no one from PotC is mine, and Kendra belongs to bobo3.

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The door to Winn's room inched open, as if the person behind the door was hesitant to disturb her.  They needn't have worried – as the hours had passed without any sign of her husband or her messenger, she'd given up, falling into a despondent sleep.

   That was how Jack found her, curled up in an armchair, arms hugging a pillow, head turned into the back of the chair.  Even now, she was beautiful, swollen eyes and swollen belly included.  Her chair was turned so she could look out at the bay; the light of the setting sun washed over her, making her skin turn golden and her hair a deep, rich brown.

   He sighed and shook his head, removing coat, hat, belts, and boots.  Years ago, pegs had been set into the wall by the door to hold his belongings, and with the ease of long practice, he settled everything without waking his sleeping wife – not that waking her was an easy thing to do.

   Before approaching her, Jack looked around the room for Pige.  As much as he appreciated the mutt for looking after Winn, he didn't want the dog in the room, not tonight.  He didn't want to have to share her with anyone, not even the canine.  "Pige," he called.  The dog appeared from the other side of the bed, walking over with measured steps and a slow wag of her tail, eventually coming up to butt her head against Jack's hip, looking up at him with soulful eyes.  "Nope, outside you go."  Jack opened the door to the room and the dog reluctantly left, pausing just over the threshold.  He knew she'd end up sleeping right in front of the doorway, but that didn't bother him.  Perhaps others would take that as a sign that the room's occupants didn't want to be bothered.

   Jack approached his sleeping wife even more cautiously than he'd come into the room.  He wouldn't leave if she were still upset with him, but he didn't think it was necessarily safe to wrestle her to the bed and pin her there until she ran out of energy either.  Crouching down, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and gently removed the pillow she was holding.  She shifted in her sleep, murmuring something under her breath.  Jack smiled.  "Wake up, Winnie."  She shook her head.  "Yes, love.  We need to talk."  She turned her head until her face was entirely hidden by the back of the chair.  "Stubborn vixen."

   Winn heard someone talking to her.  Why did people always insist on waking her up?  "Go 'way."

   "You're talking in your sleep, love."

   "No I'm not."  She yawned.  "You woke me up."  She sighed deeply and opened her eyes; all that met them was the fabric of the chair.  Nothing important.  Her eyes fell closed again.  I'm so tired.  Despite doing her best to fall back asleep, Winn stayed awake, drifting in a half-conscious haze.  The only thing that kept her from returning to her refuge was the feel of a hand on hers.  A large, warm, rough, calloused hand.  She knew that hand.  Suddenly wide awake, Winn turned her head to meet the gentle eyes of her husband.

   Jack was caught off-guard when Winn threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.  He felt her start trembling as soft kisses were pressed into his neck.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

   "Winnie – "

   "No.  I shouldn't have behaved like that.  I didn't want you to leave.  I wanted you here . . . but I was just so angry, and I don't know why.  I was so afraid that you'd left already, and that you were mad at me, and that I'd finally managed to drive you away for good . . ."  Jack felt tears start seeping through his shirt.

   With a sigh, he starting rubbing a hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her.  "It takes more than a gunshot to drive me away, love."

    "But I was so horrible."  She squeezed her arms around him, almost as if she were still afraid that he would leave.  "I was mad at you for not being here, and then when you arrived, I told you to leave again."

   "Winnie, since when I have I ever listened to what you've told me to do?"  One of her hands balled into a fist and thumped him on the shoulder – not hard enough to hurt – just hard enough to let him know she didn't appreciate the comment.  "Did you really think I'd abandon you while you're still carryin' my child?"

   Her breath gusted over his neck.  "I don't know what I was thinking."  Winn finally pulled away to look into his face.  "I was hoping that even if you did leave, that you'd eventually come back for this."  She opened her hand to reveal the small medallion laying on her palm. 

   Jack took it, his grin fading as he saw the healing cut on her palm.  He traced it with a gentle finger, studying it before meeting her eyes again.  "Where'd you get this?"

   Winn shrugged.  "I was holding on to your bauble after Marcus had told me you were dead.  I guess I was holding onto it too tightly, because it cut me."

   It was moment or two before Jack said anything, and when he did, it wasn't what she'd been expecting.  "Gandolfi is dead, Winn."

   Winn was puzzled.  Jack didn't sound pleased with this announcement.  "I thought that's what you wanted."

   He shook his head, looking at the small hand cradled in both of his and settled in Winn's lap.  "I went after him because it had to be done, but I never found pleasure in the thought of killing him.  He was a man driven mad by grief, and should I ever find myself confronted by someone who had killed someone I loved – whether by accident or design – I can't say that I wouldn't act the same way.  When he set us adrift, I almost understood him, Winnie.  I understood the burden of loss that could drive someone to act as he did, and if you had died, or if you had lost the babe. . . ."

   "You would never act like that, Jack Sparrow, so stop thinking that way."  Winn's voice was fiercely protective.  "I don't care what you think, but I know you."  She laid a  hand over his heart as if shielding it from his own thoughts.  "I know that you don't have the heart for torturing someone like Gandolfi tried to torture me.  You're a good man.  Whatever else can be said about you, whatever charges of piracy and lawlessness can be brought against you, you aren't cruel and you don't shed blood needlessly.  If you did, I wouldn't be able to love you."

   "I killed Barbossa.  Gandolfi is dead."

   Gandolfi is dead?  "But you didn't kill him, did you?"  Jack looked up, surprised.  "You admitted to killing Barbossa, but you said Gandolfi was dead.  Not that you killed him as well."

   Jack shrugged.  "He fell from the second floor.  His neck broke.  But if I had had the chance, I would have killed him."

   "But would you have drawn it out?  Would you have let death linger for days?  Would you have watched and delighted in his pain?"  She shook her head.  "I know the answer to that.  The answer to all three questions is no.  His death would have been swift and clean."

   "Winn –"

   "The fact that you're telling me all this should prove that I'm right.  You didn't kill the man with your own hand, and yet you're . . . you're . . . ."

   "Confessing?"

   Winn shrugged.  "If that's what you want to call it.  I can guarantee that Gandolfi didn't do the same thing after poisoning me."  Some of the bleakness in Jack's eyes broke up.  Winn felt her body relax, and she rested her head on Jack's shoulder.

   As he held his wife, Jack decided that Winn was going to make a wonderful mother.  Her capacity for soothing fears and loving was so large.  She protected those she cared about with the same fierceness and determination she displayed when they sparred.  If only she would believe that, she'd never have to fear that he'd leave her again.  How could he leave someone who was a companion, a supporter, a lover, and a thorn in his side all rolled into one?  Someone who was strong for others but who had a delicate, unsure maiden tucked behind the warrior?  Someone who had a gentle heart tucked behind the sharp tongue?  Someone who wasn't afraid to continually disagree with him but who never wanted to leave his side?

   Winn yawned, her body still tired and complaining that her nap had been interrupted.  Without a word, Jack picked her up and carried her over to the bed, settling down beside her.  Within moments she was asleep and he was following her.

The next morning, Jack woke up to find his wife already awake and staring into his face intently.  Her eyes were serious, her expression unsure.  Was she still afraid that he might leave?  That he was upset with her?  He couldn't imagine why she would think that after last night, but he was more than willing to reassure her.  He rested a gentle hand on her face, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.  "What's on your mind, love?"

   "Jack, I have something I need to tell you."

   He was silent, waiting for Winn to speak.  She didn't.  "You can tell me what's bothering you.  That's what I'm here for."

   Winn reached up and removed his hand from her face.  She enfolded it in her small ones, and asked, "Do you promise you won't get angry?"

   "Winnie, unless you're plannin' on telling me that the babe really does belong to another man, I can promise that I won't get upset."

   "Jack . . ." her mouth trembled as she tried to tell Jack what was on her heart.  She'd woken some time after midnight, and had spent the rest of the hours until morning thinking about her husband and the children she'd lost and the fears she'd been harboring about her pregnancy.  She couldn't keep them inside anymore, and she couldn't share them with anyone but Jack.  Others would understand, and reassure, and perhaps empathize, but Jack was the only one who could help her leave it all behind.  He'd helped her heal before; she could only hope that he'd help her now.  "Jack . . . this isn't . . . this isn't my first pregnancy."

   Jack felt bewilderment spread over him.  What did she mean?  He could be oblivious to certain things, but he thought he would have noticed his wife swelling up like a canvas at full sail, and he knew for a fact that Winn had been untouched their first night together.  "What are you talking about, Winnie?"

   This was hard.  What if he turned away from her?  What if he was disappointed in her for not realizing she was pregnant and for not realizing when she lost the children?  But he had to know – they were his children too.  "I . . . I, umm," her voice was barely above a whisper.  Jack had to strain to hear it.  "I've been pregnant three other times, Jack.  They were all miscarriages."

   Winnie.  How long had she been carrying this alone?  It hurt that she didn't trust him enough to tell him.  Why did she insist on being so strong all the time?  He was here to support her.  Why couldn't she see that?  Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, although he kept his grip on his wife's hand.  "Why didn't you tell me this long ago, Winn?"  He shifted uncomfortably as he realized this was perhaps a bad position to be laying in.

   When she heard the tone of disappointment in Jack's voice, Winn nearly crumpled right there.  She'd been right.  He believed she'd let him down.  And even though she knew he was right, she couldn't stop.  "Umm . . . that's the worst part.  I . . . I didn't realize . . . until . . . until . . . ."  She couldn't do this after all.  Winn released Jack's hand and tried to roll out of the bed.  She made it as far as her knees before he stopped her.

   "What do you mean, Winnie?"  His hand caught hold of her sleeve, keeping her from standing up, but not forcing her to look at him.  "When did you realize?"

   "Right after you dropped me off here.  When you went to Nassau."  Winn swiped the tears from her face.  "I realize I'm a horrible mother to not even realize when . . . when I've failed to keep my own child alive . . . but you needed to know.  Even if you hate me –"  She stopped talking as Jack pulled her back down and into a tight hug.  For a moment she resisted, hurt and afraid that he was patronizing her, but eventually gave in.  A pained whimper escaped her throat and then the tears and the sobs came with frightening intensity.  Until this moment, she'd been too preoccupied with life to grieve for what she'd lost.  Now, as Jack held her tightly, she allowed it all to come out.  All the guilt, the grief, the anger . . . she unloaded it on Jack's shoulder as he rubbed her back and whispered nonsense words into her ear.

   It was an hour or more before she calmed.  True exhaustion weighed on her, replacing the ball of confining emotions that'd been riding her since the moment she'd seen her own face on a wanted poster.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.

   "Shh, love.  None of it's your fault.  Not Gandolfi, not the castor bean, not my hurts, and most definitely not the miscarriages."

   "But –"

   "No."  The denial was firm and the authority rang in Winn's ears.  "We both know you would have done anything you could have done to keep those babes."

   "But I should have realized –"

   "Why?  The 'experts' had already declared you barren.  If you lost them before you were big enough to show, how could you be expected to know?  Grieve our children, but don't blame yourself, Winnie.  I don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself either."  Winn didn't respond.  "Are you listening to me, Winnie?"

   "Yes."  She squeezed him around the neck.  "It's just . . . I've other things on my mind too."

   "Tell me."

   "What if . . . what if the babe is fine, but I . . . ?"  How was she supposed to say this?  "My mother nearly died giving birth to my twin and I.  My twin didn't make it, and Momma was confined to her bed for nearly a month afterwards.  And she . . . she had a better figure for such things than I do.  Her hips were wider and she was bigger.  What if. . . ?"

   Jack felt Winn's body tremble just as his mind recoiled at the thought of losing her.  "Shh, you're going to be fine, love.  Don't even think like that.  You and the babe will both be fine."

   "But what if I'm not?  Women die in childbirth, Jack."

   Jack was beginning to understand why she'd been so adamant that he be with her.  So much fear in such a little body.  Releasing her, Jack rolled away to look her in the face.  "I – we – did not just go through all this just to be separated now.  After all we've been through in the past months, are you telling me that a little think like childbirth might part us?"  Knowing the reaction he'd get, he said, "Winifred Sparrow –"

   "Morgan-Sparrow."  Winn gave Jack the smallest of smiles, and he felt his heart lift a little.  "I'm Winn Morgan-Sparrow."

   "And?"

   "And I'm the granddaughter of Henry Morgan and wife of Jack Sparrow, pirate extraordinaire."

   "And?"

   "And I'm too stubborn to give into a little thing like death."

   Jack smiled and hugged Winn to him again.  "There's my wife.  I was beginning to think I had a subordinate instead of a consort."

   "The day I let you order me around without protest is the day I take another shot at you, Jack Sparrow," she whispered.

   "But can you live with being a consort?" he whispered back.  "Can you start being a bit more free with your thoughts and fears and feelings?  Not that I don't enjoy the challenge," he assured her, "it's just that with a babe on the way, we'll be facing a whole new set of challenges.  I'd prefer to meet this child with a united front, or it'll be running us ragged within a week."

   Winn laughed quietly, but gave thought to what Jack was asking her.  It would be a challenge to freely and willingly hand over her fears and feelings, but he was right.  In four years of marriage, hadn't he more than earned the right to see into her head?  Into her heart?  "I think so, but . . . I'll need help."

   "That's what I'm here for, love."

   "Promise?"

   "Yes."

   Winn took his promise and pressed it into her head and her heart until she'd remember it.  A pledge freely given and accepted without restraint.  "Jack?  I miss Grandfather."

   "I know, love."

   "I'm glad you're back, even if it was later than I wanted."

   "I'm sorry about that, Winnie.  I know how much he meant to you."

   "He did mean a lot.  But you mean more."  She kissed Jack's neck.  "I love you, Jack."

   "I know, Winnie."

   Having said all that mattered at the moment, Winn felt herself drifting into sleep, held securely in her husband's loving and understanding arms.  "I'm glad you're back," she breathed.

   He kissed her forehead.  "As am I."  As he watched Winn's face relax, he thought, As am I.

A week quickly passed.  Winn's attitude settled to some degree as her husband was there to dampen her temper and soften her tongue.  In private, Winn couldn't believe just how irritable she was and Jack sincerely hoped that should she ever get pregnant again, that her mood would improve.  But despite his appearance of a patient martyr, Jack enjoyed the opportunity to spend entire days with his wife, baiting her and giving her a target for her irritation that would give as good as it got.  Most of their exchanges ended with Jack kissing Winn on the nose or the cheek or occasionally on the mouth, which always made her stay quiet for an hour or two until the constant buzz of emotions built up again.

   Jack understood this in part.  First of all, Winn was pregnant, and pregnant women were always somewhat irrational, not that he'd ever point that out.  Secondly, she was confined to the house and a minimum of movement.  And thirdly, Winn was doing her best to stick close to him, practically hanging on him every moment of the day, like a child who'd been lost and found by its parents.  She was so relieved to have him back and so aware of how close they'd come to being parted that she was reluctant to let him out of her sight . . . and this irritated her.  The visible evidence of her dependence on her husband irritated her, but she wasn't willing to stop either.  So Jack put up with her sharp comments and willingly gave up the use of one hand, allowing her to cling to it and find comfort in his touch.  It was an odd relationship, but one that Jack accepted.  Nothing with Winn was ever easy, but he enjoyed the struggle and the challenge because he knew that Winn needed him . . . and that in a few months she'd be over this.

   One morning, about a week after his arrival, Jack snuck out of their room and closed the door quietly behind him, only to turn around and find himself about to walk right into a miniature, smirking pirate.  He jerked back in surprise.  Young children were one thing.  Former members of his crew were another thing altogether.  How did she get there?

   "Skittering off, are we?"

   "Pierre!" Jack grinned, regaining his equilibrium and sidestepping to get past her.

   She let him, turning and walking next to him.  "The name is Ken, Kendra, Captain and perhaps a few other things, but you have no permission to call me 'Pierre.'  And you know it."

   Jack set a hand on Kendra's head and ruffled her hair.  "Of course, poppet."

   Kendra shoved his hand off, sighing in irritation.  "What are you up to anyway?  Not going to cause a ruckus, are you?"

   He just grinned at her.

   "Of course you are."  She narrowed her eyes.  "Though, to the close observer of your behavior for the past few days, I would image that Winn is still asleep and you're going to do something husband-like, such as bringing her breakfast in bed."  He flinched and she grinned.  "I was right."

   "And your point being?"  Jack took the stairs two at a time so Kendra had to hurry to keep up with him.  "Winnie is six months gone with child – she's always hungry."

   "You've become soft in some aspects, Sparrow."

   At this, he jerked to a stop and looked to Kendra with a raised eyebrow. "Soft, hmm?"

   "Aye," she crossed her arms and scowled at him.  "At first glance, you only make those comments to Winn to get the pleasure of irritating her, but I suspect you do it to allow her the pleasure of yelling at you.  There's other things that you do – like going after Gandolfi, even when you knew she'd break you in two for leaving her alone – that make me think you've . . . changed.  Especially since you came back.  She's a good woman Sparrow.  A little, well . . . tetchy right at the moment.  But if I had a gut her size and all of this stress, I'm sure I would be too."

   Jack slowly absorbed Kendra's words.  But now was really not the time to ponder them at length, so he brushed them aside for later.  Instead, he put on a smirk.  "Being as small as you are, it would be a miracle that you could even move with a gut her size."  He was profoundly glad Winn was still asleep.

   In a flash, Kendra had her cutlass out and to his throat.  "Not so funny, Sparrow."

   For a tense moment, Kendra and Jack stood perfectly still.  Just as Jack began to wonder how many times he'd get a weapon drawn on him within the fortnight and if Kendra was being playful or actually angry, she pulled the cutlass back and chuckled.

   "You've lost your defenses, fool."  Sheathing her cutlass, she lightly punched his shoulder.  "If I didn't know –" she cut herself off as Jack flinched.  "You can't actually tell me that hurt.  I barely hit you.  Unless. . . ."  A strange, almost concerned expression came onto Kendra's face and she softened her tone.  "If I hurt you, I'm sorry."

   "Only a little," he teased and returned the thump to her shoulder.  Instead of glaring or snapping back, Kendra let her body sway back and forth with the punch and kept her gaze on the floor, looking almost passive.

   "Thirty-five lashes . . . Sparrow . . . how did you survive that?  I've had five . . .  and . . . though I was only ten at the time . . ." she clenched her fists, grimacing.  "It was awful.  I can't comprehend that seven times over."

   Of all the things Winn had to go and share with his former cabin lad . . . lass.  "I passed out part way through.  And Commodore Norrington took me under his care."  It unnerved Jack to see Kendra so pliable, and he set a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in hopes that she'd snap out of it.  He never thought he'd be glad to have her be so disagreeable.  "It's in the past though.  Gandolfi's taken care of."

   Kendra nodded.  "I . . . I just can't imagine letting that slide by."  She looked up and realized that she was almost crying.  Wiping whatever had begun to leak onto her sleeve, she stuck out a hand.  "An accord.  To never speak of me gettin' so emotional."  Jack was about to try and make a bargain out of it, but before he could speak up she continued.  "I won't tell no one about your possible softenin', and you won't tell no one of mine."

   Good enough.  "Aye, agreed."

   The two pirates shook firmly, and then pulled their hands away, not quite sure what to do next.

   "What about that breakfast for Winn?  I'll help you.  I got in good with the cook."  She winked, "A few compliments work wonders."

   "Oh really?  You would be the one to know how to twist people to your purposes," he muttered.

   Kendra shrugged and walked beside Sparrow down the rest of the stairs.  "It comes in handy.  'Sides, people always underestimate me.  Why not manipulate a little too?"

   Sparrow laughed at this, pleased by the sentiment spoken by another pirate.  He missed his crew.  He missed being the captain and commander of his own ship.  Not that he would leave Winn now – or any time soon if the report sent by Gibbs was accurate – but having another pirate around eased the restlessness that was fighting to settle over him.

   Occupied with these thoughts, the two made their way to the kitchen.  Despite Kendra's offer of assistance, there was no need.  No one was in the kitchen and Kendra retrieved items while Sparrow assembled them on a tray.

   "You know this is going to be on my list of dues, right?"  Kendra tossed him an apple.

   Jack caught it and scoffed.  "List of dues, I'm sure."

   Kendra set her hands defiantly on her hips.  "Aye, my list of dues.  I got three copies made, just incase you decide to try and destroy the evidence.  And they wager all the way from the day I met you.  Well . . . that night actually, but you get the point.  Trust me, Sparrow," she grinned and played absently with her cutlass hilt, "you have lots of making up to do."

   He rolled his eyes.  "I got you back the Dilettante, what else does it matter?"

   It was Kendra's turn to scoff.  "Oh, yeah?  You just dropped me off in a long boat with Fluff.  The commodore picks us up, pays you the ransom and takes us to Port Royal.  There's the Dilettante.  As far as I can tell, you weren't really of much assistance.  Lucky timing is all."

   "But without me you would never have gotten there."

   She raised an eyebrow.  "Oh?  If you hadn't stopped me I would've been on Spriggit's crew."

   "And caught with the rest of them."

   No retort came to mind and Kendra growled.  "Fine.  But you still did me little good.  You're lucky is all.  And that reminds me. . . ." she stormed over and punched him hard in the jaw.

   Jack stumbled back a step, rubbing the quickly reddening skin.  She calls this lucky?  Bein' beat on by two women half my size day in and day out?  Not that Winnie is really tryin' to hurt me.  "What was that for?  Part of your dues?  I never hit you."

   "Aye, you didn't hit me.  But you saw me naked."  Her eyes narrowed dangerously.  "And you should know that is a terrible offense.  Plus that whole ordeal with trying to get a kiss out of me.  What kind of man does that?  Pirate or not!  A poor lass just woken up after nearly downin' – "

   "I didn't know you were a lass!  Come on now, poppet –"

   She swung at him again, but he stepped back, catching her fist.  "Don't call me poppet, Sparrow!  And I know you had suspicions.  I was leading you on all the while.  The more kindly thing to do would have been to have Anamaria undress me.  And you know it."  Jerking her wrist still imprisoned in his, she glowered.  "I hope your jaw still stings."

   "Well, you're not exactly a weakling," Sparrow mumbled, rubbing his jaw with his free hand.

   Kendra grinned and pulled her hand free, starting over towards the apples again.  "Good."

   The two pirates finished throwing together a meal for Winn, then went back upstairs in companionable silence.  Upon reaching their room, Jack pointed his head down the hall towards Kendra's room.  "Scat, lass.  Winn in the morning isn't even something I'd want to inflict upon you."

   Kendra smirked.  "Scared of your wife, Sparrow?"

   Jack's eyes narrowed.  "With good reason.  She's not exactly a morning person.."

   "Still, she is still under my charge until you say otherwise, and I think I'd like to check in on her."  Kendra pushed past Jack and opened the door to the room.  Jack peered in after her, and saw that Winn was already up and dressed, although she wasn't wearing anything she'd like to be seen in in public.  She had a kerchief over her hair, and was busily painting away in front of the window.  Kendra just turned to Jack and raised an eyebrow as if to say, Not a morning person, eh?  "Mornin' Winn."

   When his wife didn't reply or even look up from her canvas, Jack smirked.  She wouldn't be up to talking to people for another half hour or so.  With the ease of long practice, he set the tray of food within her reach and leaned over to kiss her.  She accepted the kiss absently, although it was plain that most of her attention was focused on the portrait she was painting.  Jack watched as she completed the background with bold strokes.  The foreground was colorless, save for several figures that'd been drawn in beforehand.  "Did Lizzy finally talked you into painting a family portrait for her?"  Winn nodded.  Jack looked at the light pencil lines – sure enough, it was Liz and Will, both with a child in their arms.  "How hard did she have to talk to get you to do this?"

   "Not very.  I was dying for distraction."  Kendra had come over as well to look over Winn's shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to see.  She was intently staring at the canvas as Winn worked, amazement written on her face.  Jack decided to pay the smaller pirate back for intruding on his time with his wife.

   "You know, love, if you wanted to be distracted, I know of several activities that would be entertainin' for the both of us."

   "Those 'entertainments' are what led to this in the first place, Sparrow."  Kendra's face flamed.  "I don't think that'll be happening for some time to come.  Both Cat and Grace have given stern orders against spending too much time in bed."

   Jack was having a hard time containing his laughter.  It was obvious that Winn was still unaware of Kendra's presence in the room.  He was about to mention this when a knock came on the still open door.  Jack looked up to find Cat in the doorway with Elizabeth.  "Somethin' I can help you with, ladies?"

   "Not unless you want to go shopping."  Elizabeth and Cat started laughing as both Jack and Winn showed identical signs of distress at this comment.

   "I thought I was supposed to be taking things easy," Winn commented.

   Cat shrewdly pointed out, "You've been fighting that rule tooth and nail, Freddy.  And I don't think an hour or two of moving around is going to hurt you.  Make you tired?  Yes, probably, but no harm will come to you."

   "Why do I need to go shopping?  I have clothes."

   Elizabeth sighed in exasperation, a governor's daughter through and through.  "Winn, none of your clothes fit anymore.  You're wearing hand-me-downs that are too long for you."

   "Why do I need clothes that look nice?  It's not like I'm allowed to go anywhere."

   The two women looked at each other for a moment, then looked at Jack.  "Jack, will you excuse us for a moment?"

   Jack didn't exactly trust their reason for asking him to leave, but he did.  They closed the door behind him.  Glancing around, he saw that no one was in the hall, so he pressed his ear to the door – nothing.  Nothing but murmurs too quiet for him to make any sense of.  He sighed in disgust.

   A minute or so later, the door opened again as Cat and Elizabeth left the room.  "Be ready to go after lunch, Winn."  They nodded to Jack, sly smiles on their faces, then went downstairs, presumably to look after their children.  Jack watched them go, then went back into his bedroom.  Both Winn and Kendra both looked disgusted . . . well, Kendra looked disgusted.  Winn looked bemused.  Silently, she ran her eyes over her husband, her head tilted to one side in consideration.  "What?" he asked with some alarm.  If Cat had suggested he needed 'a trim,' he was going to have to have a serious talk with that woman.

   Winn shook her head.  "I think Cat was right.  You need to shave, or trim that beard.  It's getting rather . . . unruly."

   As long as she hadn't mentioned the hair . . .  "Oh, I don't know about that," Jack said as he rubbed his chin.  "By the time the babe is here, it might actually be long enough for me to braid it again."  Winn just looked at him.  "What?  It's been years since I've had a long beard.  It might be nice.  It's not as if I have anything better to do for the next few months."

   Winn's face softened.  Her imposed inactivity was wearing on Jack as much as it wore on her.  And she'd been demanding every moment of his attention.  She'd have to find something to do about that.  But he was wrong about the beard.  "Jack, what do you think will happen the moment our child is old enough to reach and grab things?"  She stared pointedly at his long hair.  "You'll provide enough temptation with those beads without giving reason for our nestling to pull on something so tender as a beard."  Jack winced.  "You know I'm right."

   Jack shrugged, and came over to enfold Winn in his arms.  "Nestling?"

   Winn leaned into him briefly.  "It seemed appropriate."  Pulling away, she shoved him gently towards the wash room.  "Go take care of that beard, or Cat will fetch her scissors."

   Jack went, glancing at the still frowning Kendra as he passed.  "What's wrong with her?"

   Winn smiled, but it was Kendra who replied.  "I got enlisted to join their little 'expedition.'"

   Jack laughed.

Kendra walked a short distance behind Winn and all three of her sister-in-laws, keeping only a small amount of her attention on her charge, leaving the majority for surveying the surroundings and watching for unsavory figures.

   At least only Winn has figured out my secret, so far.  Much like men to not catch onto my little slip-ups.  She paused as the thought struck her as unfamiliar.  Funny . . . months ago I wouldn't be so accusatory of men, but after spending time with Winn . . . the idea of being a woman really isn't all that negative.  Strange indeed.  Now what's with that pirate over there?  Kendra focused a little more of her attention on a slightly inebriated middle-aged man weaving his way down the street.  She listened to his babble for a short time, then lessened her attention.  Nothing more than a drunk, or a very good actor.  Doubtful of the latter, but if I pay him too much mind he'll catch onto me.

   After accompanying the women into one of the stores, Kendra started to wait outside as they finished their shopping.  Sorting through patterns, and colors, and fabrics held no interest for her.  The whole ordeal disgusted her, really, and didn't seem to please Winn too much either, although the other woman did join in some of the discussion.  I did wonder why a smart woman like Winn would dress in skirts when breeches are more practical.  It never occurred to me that she didn't have any that fit.  However, I wouldn't be caught dead in half of what they're looking at, nonetheless would I ever pay that much for clothing . . .  Holding back a shudder Kendra stood and followed Morgan women, who – despite having most of their purchases sent straight to the house – had their arms filled to the brim with bags and packages.  Except for Winn, who wasn't allowed to carry more than a parcel that contained some art supplies.  Kendra kept a close pace behind them, but they soon gave up trying to have her join the conversation.

   The women ahead of her continued to chatter on about things that mattered naught to Kendra and she drowned out most of their conversation, refocusing her concentration on keeping up her act and being observant of her surroundings.  As she followed the group of Morgan women a voice was calling out to her and she paused.

   "Ken!  Is that you?  It can't be our lil' Ken, could it?"

   She rapidly searched the crowd and spotted the man calling her name.  It can't be . . . Jim?  Is it really him?

   He was a transformed man, more than ten years older than the last time she had seen him and now he seemed to have put on some weight, and was looking not quite so robust.  But a decade of time had not been overly harsh to the pirate.  "I see you there, me lass.  Not forgot 'bout ol' Jim, now did ye?"

   Kendra knew it would be intolerably cruel to ignore her old friend.  The secret would come out eventually . . . why not now?  She let out a laugh and trusted in the area being clear for a time.  "O' course not, Jim!  It's been an awful long time, 'asn't it?"  Her accent immediately slipped into the patterns she'd used as a child, when this man had known her.

   The Morgan women had not failed to hear this and stopped to watch a much different Kendra.  While there had always been a sort of mask to her, now it had dropped or at least faded.  Her entire appearance had lightened.

   Two old pirate compatriots crossed the distance between them and Kendra embraced the man, chuckling as he tousled her hair.  "Ye 'aven't gotten much taller, lass.  Still a lil' stick, aren't ye?"

   "Aye, but ye 'ave changed, 'aven't ye Jim?"

   The older man rumbled with laughter and pushed Kendra away from him, examining her again.  "That ship o' yers doin' well?"

   Kendra scoffed. "Ye think I'd allow anything less? Come on, this is me we're discussin'!"

   Jim smiled and set his hand on her head.  "O' course, lass."  His expression softened.  "Seein' ye brings a bit o' hope to me day.  Been a long time since I seen such a friendly face."

   "That's a shame, Jim.  I'm the first friendly face ye seen for some time?  This world is headin' to shambles then.  But I'm glad to lighten yer day."

   "I 'aven't e'er seen ye here 'fore, lil' Ken.  What brings ye to Osprey Point?"

   Kendra nodded her head towards the Morgans.  "Got me some side business.  Profitable enough.  Don't know 'ow long I'll be here, but did ye want to get something to drink tonight?  I'll pay if ye'd like . . ."

   "Nay, lass! What kind of a pirate would I be if I 'ad the lil' lass payin' for the shay?"

   She hid her dismay at his constant mention of her being a 'lil' lass' and nodded.  "I 'ear ye, Jim.  After dark then?  Which tavern would ye prefer?"

   "This one should do," he waved his hand at the tavern behind her.  "After dark then.  I'll let ye get back to yer business.  And best of luck to ye ladies," Jim doffed his hat to the Morgan women, grinning and tousling Kendra's hair once more, walking off in the opposite direction.

   Kendra waved.  "See ya, Jim!"  Lowering her arm she examined the tavern.  The Smuggler's Cove, she scoffed.  What a name for a tavern . . .  Slowly, she turned her gaze to the Morgans, taking a breath and raising an eyebrow at their surprised expressions.  "What?  A pirate's not allowed to have old friends?"

   Winn smiled knowingly, but kept her mouth shut. The other women looked a bit more thoughtful.

   "'Lil' Ken', is it?" Grace grinned.

   Kendra unconsciously fingered her cutlass.  "Aye, Jim was on the ship I grew up on."  She ran her hands over her hair and attempted to repair the damage Jim had done.  "Don't let me lil' reunion stop yer day.  Now hurry along will ye?  I have an appointment to make at dark and would much like to make it.  And if ye ladies don't speed things up we'll be out here til' then."  She scowled.  "Stop starin', will ye?"

   The women smirked to one another and continued on, their spirited conversation kept much quieter this time around.  Kendra was tempted to listen in, but gave up on the idea, finding it more in her interest to simply do her job.  There went that secret . . . soon enough every Morgan on this bleedin' island will know . . . and then there will be no point to keeping up the façade.  At least it was to Jim, and not some fault of my own.  The things I deal with . . . .  Kendra let out a sigh and trudged along, finding the desire to get in a good old fashioned brawl quite tempting.

"Uncle Jack! Uncle Jack!"

   Jack turned from his conversation with Will and Ry to find quite a group of suspiciously adoring nephews behind him.  "Aye?"

   Avery and Michael – the two oldest boys – looked at each other, plainly deciding which of them would speak up.  Will looked on in amusement as Jack tried to act intimidating.  He'd had a hard enough time seeing the man as a husband, much less a doting uncle, but Winn's attitude towards her brothers' children had rubbed off on the pirate.

   It was Avery who finally spoke up, since he was seven months older than Michael.  "We want to build a boat, uncle Jack."

   Jack had a bad feeling about this.  With all the women out of the house, the men were left with the children.  Normally, Jack didn't mind this too much.  Either there were too few children any to get into serious trouble or there were so many that they managed to keep each other occupied and policed.  And the women always seemed to know when someone was going to attempt something they oughtn't.  But this had the feel of a set-up.  "Why're you askin' me instead of your father?" Jack asked with a nod to Ry.  "He knows just as much about such things as I do."

   "Yes, but Papa is leaving in a few days to talk to some of his crews."  Several of the younger boys looked uncomfortable, letting Jack know that these 'crews' had been under the care of Morgan, and that they'd passed to Ry with the old pirate's death.  "Anyway, Momma said you'd be glad to help us."

   Jack wondered if it had been Cat's idea or Winn's.  His wife was observant and he knew he'd been restless lately.  It was possible she'd suggested this little venture to not only keep he boys occupied for awhile, but Jack as well.  And Cat would have been pleased to find something to keep the older boys busy.  Avery and Michael in particular were reaching the age when they'd be harder to keep under control and would be outgrowing their younger cousins.  And with the death of their great-grandfather, he bet Cat, and Sarah, and Grace all thought it'd be good for them to find something else to occupy their minds.

   But if Ry was leaving, and with Marcus leaving the week after that . . . Jack was going to be severely outnumbered.  Richard would help with what he could, but the man was a farmer at heart, not a craftsman . . . and Will. . . .  What about Will? 

   Jack looked at the blacksmith for support, his eyebrows raised.  Will shrugged.  "I've never tried carpentry, Jack."

   "But you'll be around?"  The thought of being the only man amongst the masses of children was something Jack didn't even want to consider.

   "I think I'd have a difficult time prying Elizabeth away until after she's assured herself that her best friend as well as her child are healthy."  He sighed, bouncing his daughter as she started to fuss.  "The Morgans have offered me the use of their forge, so I can get some progress done on my orders while we wait."

   Jack thanked whichever god was keeping an eye on him.  "That's just as well – we're going to need nails and fittings and such if we're going to do this."  The boys cheered.  "But –" Jack had to raise his voice to be heard, "but this will be done in as orderly a fashion as possible.  You'll all work, but you'll all listen to me as well.  Once the vessel is complete, you can take turns playing captain, but until then, I'm the captain, and you'll listen."

   "Thank you, uncle Jack."  The group surged forward and drug him off to start drawing plans.

   The things I do for you, Winnie.

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Author's Thanks:

Clover the Sea-Beast – No, I can see a musical version of PotC, and if they've got Johnny there singing for Jack, I think I would die a very happy girl.  : P

jackfan2 -  mmm . . . that was one of my better moments, wasn't it.  Seriously, I wrote that scene where she pulls the gun on him months ago and was dying to use it.  I really did enjoy that.

Kontara – do I know you?  (j/k)  I read Sara's reviews, and I saw that you'd changed your screen name.  Nope, you were right.  Just have to get through the babe being born, and a few other twists that I may or may not have up my sleeves.  : )

BlueTrinity – yes, Gandolfi is dead.  The strange sensation that all might not be well was just Jack being very in-tune with his wife and the fact that Gandolfi's death was so anticlimactic.  Sorry about the continued tears, but I'm wringing every drop of drama that I can out of this thing, and I'm having a blast doing it.  (So apparently, I'm not all that sorry after all.)

Dawnie-7 –you weren't the only one with tears that chapter.  I made myself cry, and like I said, I've never done that before.  I really like Morgan, however, it was time for him to go.  *that sounded really nice*  ^_^

bobo3 – ok, tonight, we at the very least, discuss.  I don't know if I have anything to write at the moment.  I don't know.  I can tell this whole collaboration thing is going to be hard, because I am a slacker.  : P  Anyway, I will see you around, young missy.

Alli -  I try to update as often as I can.  I'm still bummed that this story isn't coming as fast as 'Inconvenient.'  That one was written in 49 days, or something, and this one has been going for something like, 113 days.  Somewhat embarrassed by that, but oh well.  Glad you're enjoying this.

VagrantCandy – thank you.

Lila Elensar – yay!  Another reviewer I made cry.  Seriously, I don't know how I do it, but I'm semi-glad I do.  It lets me know that you're all enjoying this.

Beak – thank you ever so much.  I was unsure about how Morgan would die, but that seemed appropriate.  *author's are so strange, because they say things like that, and they mean it.*  Anyway, that was one of my favorite chapters, so I'm glad you liked it.

lilitaliandragonyeah, Winn can't believe she did that either.  As for Kendra and her identity and Alex?  You're just going to have to sit around and wait to see what bobo3 and I have cooked up.

BeBe – what got into her?  Jack's kid.  Not only is she pregnant, but she's got a temper to boot.  But she was sorry for it.  That, and I really liked the image of her pulling a gun on him.  Very feisty.  I'd been getting some complaints that Winn was becoming too weak, unlike her character in 'Inconvenient' and so I was glad to post that chapter, even though I wrote that scene in November or something.  And Jack's strange feeling was nothing more than some kind of 'empathy' with his wife, a suspicion  that that not all was well at home.  And a bit of a letdown that Gandolfi had died like that, even though he hadn't really been looking forward to killing him.

pendraggininkwhat can I say?  I'm a sucker for long reviews.  I love getting these and reading them.  They always make my day, and you always give me food for thought.  I wrote Gandolfi's death like that, simply because I couldn't figure out a way to make Jack kill in cold blood.  Watching PotC, viewing the scene where he shoots Barbossa several times over, it struck me that yes, he'd shot the man, but he had several reasons for doing so.  1) the man had led a mutiny against him ten years ago and stolen his livelihood and his ship.  2) Barbossa had a gun on Elizabeth and wouldn't have hesitated to pull the trigger.  Jack has some morals and actually cared about this, so he distracted Barbossa by shooting him.  But if you watch, the cold look in his eyes . . . melts . . . a little after firing the gun, as if he's in shock of what he's just done.  Now, you can argue why he'd feel like that, but I like to believe that it's because that deep inside, Jack truly does not like to kill.  He'll do it if he has to, but won't if it can be avoided.  Winn was 14 when her parents died.  You reviews have inspired equally long reviews m'dear.  Looking forward to the next one – they give me insight into my own characters, if that makes any sense.

Golden Rose3 – I can't play guitar, and I can't speak a second language, and I can't read Tolkien without falling asleep.  So yes.  ^_^  Loved the gun scene myself.  Don't know how many times I can say that.  ; )  Yes, Gandolfi really is dead.  Read the first half of my reply to pendragginink to see why I went that route, I just don't have the energy to type that again.  ^_^

KawaiiRyu – poor Winn.  She's having some difficulties.  Although, it was fun to make her shoot at Jack.  Yes, I acknowledge that I'm horrible.

Curiosity Inc. – possibly, but I really loved that scene and had to use it.  Besides, Winn's never been the most rational of women when it's come to her temper.  The reason for the lack of comic relief in that chapter was simply that I didn't want any.  I wanted to keep the tension up.  I'm going to have an entire chapter of humorous stuff (the next one), but for this one I wanted the tension to last a bit longer.

Piper8188 – thank you.

Eledhwen – in my heart of hearts, I would have buried him at sea as well, I just couldn't manage it without making the chapter irrationally long.  There'd be logistics, and I try to keep things realistic, and so I took the 'slackers' way out.  Sorry.  Also, I think that Isabella Morgan was not buried at sea, and that Morgan wanted to be buried by his wife.  I'll have to fix that little detail.  ^_^

Erica Dawn – oh, there's always more – it's just not always up when you want it to be.  Thanks for catching those little errors for me.

pirate-miss – oh, she didn't have poor aim, she was just firing a shot off Jack's bows, a warning that she was serious.  And pregnant women can be irrational like that.  *well, perhaps not to that degree, but this is a fic.*  Thanks for the complements.

SuzzieQue – I'm sorry I made you cry.  Seriously – I swear it's not my intention, ever, but it does happen.  And yes – pregnant, lonely, Winn is a force to be reckoned with.

CrazyCanoeingGIT – thanks.