After a long day, there was nothing Mike liked more than to retreat to bed and Nina. Tonight it sounded better because he'd barely gotten any sleep the night before. After the last horse had been unbridled, unsaddled, brushed, and fed, he and Danny had crossed to the house. Upstairs, the sounds of a classical symphony drifted through the house, bringing a smile to Mike's face. He threw his hat on the table, and hopped up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. Creeping down the hallway, he finally came to Nina's room. He pushed the door open slightly, looking in. Nina danced lithely across the room in a pattern of moves with French names that Mike could never pronounce. She took no notice of him, her eyes shut as she flowed with the music. Then she stopped with one arm out towards the door. Her eyes opened, and she smiled at him. He took her hand, pulling her towards him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and they did a simple two step slow dance. She rested her head against his chest, and there was nothing but the music in the room.

When the music came to an end, he looked down at her. She tilted her head up, lips brushing against his in a deep kiss. This is what he looked forward to at the end of the day, what kept him going. After the kiss was broken, she stepped back, her hand in his. "Ready for bed?" She asked softly, a secret smile on her face.

"Aye." He whispered back. She looked at him over her shoulder and an eyebrow raised, He allowed her to lead him to the bedroom and push him onto the bed. Her hands went to the buckle on his belt, fumbling with it as her lips locked against his. He put his arms around her waist, his hands running up her back, moving to the hem of her shirt and pulling upwards.

Moments later, theirs was a world of nothing but passion.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Downstairs, Danny was investigating the leftover situation in the fridge, determined to correct it. He pulled a plastic baggy with two leftover hamburgers out and kicked the door shut. After opening the bag, he threw it in the microwave and pressed the reheat button. As the microwave heated the cold meat, his eyes fell on the old compass, still lying in the middle of the table. He slid into the chair, picking it up and running his hands over it, a look of concentration on his face. Popping it open, he scrutinized the inside.

"It's broken. It doesn't even point north." He said quietly, talking to no one in particular. The timer on the microwave went off, and he leaned back, pulling the bag out and shutting the door. He hissed at the hot bag, dropping it onto the table beside the compass. The needle jumped slightly as the bag hit the table beside it, then returned to pointing in the same direction it had. Danny picked it up, turning it around and still the needle stayed pointing southeast, down towards the beach. "Still constant, just wrong direction." He was still studying it as he walked to the fridge. "Wait…"

The compass needle shifted slightly as he moved across the kitchen, still pointing down towards the beach. This was getting odder and odder. It was almost as if it was pointing towards a certain something, not a certain direction. He shook his head. That's the crazy talking. Spend too much time in the sun and don't get enough sleep, the mind plays tricks on you. That's it. But there was some indescribable force that fought against his sane reasoning. No, there's something about this compass. Something special. If you never follow, you'll never know. The more he thought it over, the more compelled he felt to follow it. This had to be from lack of sleep. He was curious, true enough, but he wasn't one to follow a far out whim like this. So what if the compass had stayed true to one direction that wasn't north. It had been buried under the sand for who knew how long. But still that voice nagged at him to follow it, as if some untold secret would be revealed by it.

The next thing he knew, as if by some will other than his own, he was walking out the door into the night. The compass in his right hand, the large search flashlight in his other, he started towards the beach. The needle stayed constant the whole way down the pathway, but abruptly turned the moment he was out on the beach, pointing to the west. He glanced in that direction, before taking off down the beach.

~~~~~~~~~

"Jack, what's going on?"

"They cheated us, Will. They shook on the deal, but that wasn't what their intentions were."

"Smythe and his crew?"

"Aye, knew I shouldn't have trusted them. They needed our help getting to the treasure, and had no problem playing the part of dividing it up with us."

"Jack, what are you talking about?"

"He doesn't want us off this island alive, Will. We've been double crossed."

Mike's eyes fluttered open. As if things hadn't been strange enough, that dream certainly added on. He shut his eyes again, the images still fresh in his mind. He'd been on a ship, talking to a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Danny. But it couldn't have been him. The hair had been too long and straight, and the clothes had been all wrong. But that answered the question of who William was. Whoever this Will person had been, he'd called Mike Jack in the dream. He could still feel the feelings of dread, slight panic, and frustration of betrayal worming around in his gut.

He opened his eyes again. Nina was lying with her head on his chest and one arm draped across his stomach. Carefully, as not to disturb her, he gently moved her head back to the pillow and slid out from under her arm. She muttered something unintelligible and rolled over, wrapping her arms around the pillow instead. Mike pulled his pants on, heading downstairs. He needed some fresh air to clear his head.

Outside, it was slightly chilly, and he regretted not bringing a shirt. Returning inside, he grabbed a blanket from the hallway closet and wrapped it around his shoulders before returning outside and sitting down on the step. Nothing but the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was all he needed. What the hell was happening to him all of a sudden? The odd dreams and thoughts, calling his adopted son by the name of a boy who had appeared in his dreams? He pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe it was the stress from dealing with Smythe. He'd been fine before he'd gotten into this mess with him. Then it hit him. The man in the dream, the one who had betrayed them; his name had been Smythe. Mike nearly burst out laughing. That's all it was. The stress of dealing with the asshole had been causing all this. It made perfect sense to him. His mind working through things while he was sleeping.

"Mike!" His head snapped around, hearing Danny call to him. The kid was dragging something towards the porch, taller than he was. Mike stood up, hopping down the stairs and walking over to him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you. I had this strange gut feeling about the compass, and I followed it…"

Mike interrupted him. "You followed the compass?"

"Yup."

"The really, really old compass that's been exposed to the elements for God knows how long and is most likely broken?"

"Sounds about right."

"Good enough for me. Continue on."

Danny dropped the large piece of battered wood on the ground and kicked it over. Burned into the wood were the words The Black Pearl. Mike crouched down.

"Where did you get this?" Danny crouched down beside him.

"I followed the compass, and all of a sudden, it just goes haywire. So I took a leap of faith and started digging. I found this." He traced a hand over the 'B.' "This could be from the actual pirate ship, the legend of the Caribbean." He said thoughtfully. In his contemplation, he missed the expression on Mike's face. It was one of mourning, almost as if saying good-bye to a loved one. Mike's fingers reached out and touched the wood.

"Ye were a good ship, luv." He said quietly.

"Hmm?" Danny looked towards him. "Did you say something?" Mike blinked, as if he'd fallen asleep.

"What?"

"I thought you mumbled something."

"I didn't say anything." He looked down at the name. Somewhere deep inside him, he ached, as if what this board had once been a part of was something very dear to him. Something that it would nearly kill him to loose.

"Do you know what this could mean? That Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't a myth, he was a real person!" Danny said, looking towards Mike. "You could have a pirate in the family tree somewhere." He laughed. Mike gave him a weak grin. "Yeah…"

Did he just say Jack Sparrow? As in what the boy in my dream called me? Jack? What the hell is going on? His subconscious was just as confused as the rest of his mind was.  This was all too strange, but he sure as hell couldn't tell Danny or Nina. Most likely would tell him he'd been working too hard and needed to slow down, take some time off. Then, as if to add fuel to the fire, a voice entered his confusion-addled thoughts, sending shivers down his spine that had nothing to do with the nighttime air.

It wasn't your time to win. But it is now, Captain Sparrow, it is now.