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"I'm not likin' the look of 'er."

Captain Turner shook his head. "Give it time. A new mast and she'll be her old self again."

"Aye, and where are we going to have to go to find that? White pine it was, Jack'd have no less."

Bill sighed. "Short of sailing all the way up to Canada, we'll do our best, Anamaria. I promise."

She looked doubtful. "I don't suppose we could be, well… borrowin' one?"

He gave her a look. "No, Ana. This is an honest ship."

"But the Pearl isn't, and since-"

"No, Ana." He couldn't keep the wry grin off his face. "But keep thinking."

The woman walked back toward the helm, grumbling, and the captain watched her with a fond smile. You'd think it was her ship after all. Looking across the water to where the infamous vessel sailed, still proud although not at her normal speed, he let a sigh escape. A figure at the Pearl's rail waved, and he raised his arm in return before calling out. "Ana."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Let her come ahead."

"Aye." The woman called for adjustments on the sails to let the damaged ship take the lead. By the time all was to her liking, Bootstrap was standing behind her at the helm. She turned slightly to glance at him. "Trouble?"

"Trying to avoid it. Gibbs wanted us to watch her back once we were well away." He stared ahead at the other ship. "I don't think she's quite settled yet."

Anamaria frowned into the distance. "Seems well enough."

Bill shook his head absently. "She's a tough ship to balance." A fleeting grin lit his face as he moved toward the bow to watch more closely. "At least to have her up to Jack's standard." His eyes narrowed as he stared ahead, and a short curse preceded his yell. "Bring down the main. Follow her in."

Ana repeated his call before asking. "Cap'n?"

"Line snapped on her mainsail. Took a second with it." He shook his head and watched as the Pearl limped closer to shore, easing into the smaller bay that had sheltered the Esperance through the storm. "Damn."

His pilot shook her head. "Ye can't replace everything, Bill."

"No. But it would have been nice to get somewhere before –"

"Ship ahoy!"

The call from the lookout on the quarterdeck made Bill turn. "What's coming?"

"Better have a look, sir."

Something in the sound of the sailor's voice made Bill fly to the stern. Taking the telescope he sighted off toward Puerto Rico. Dropping the glass for a moment, he stared with his bare eyes, shook his head, and raised the glass again. "Bloody hell."

Onboard the Pearl, Gibbs was at the helm while Will yelled orders to get the mainsail down with a minimum of damage to the remaining lines. A sense of futility hampered their efficiency, but Cotton's parrot was the only one who said it aloud.

"Pieces of eight."

Several men nearby nodded. "Cotton's right. At this rate, she'll fall apart a bit at a time before we can get her set right."

"Maybe the curse is still on 'er."

"No grumblin', there, or I'll have your head." Gibbs sounded genuinely angry. "We'll bring 'er into the calm here, and set 'er up again."

"Aye… sir."

Will came closer to Gibbs as the work continued and shook his head. "I don't know what happened. I checked those lines, and I know I'm not the only one."

"Aye, lad, but you can't see the kind of stress that makes a rope snap out o' nowhere. Inside, it is. Like a man."

The boy's eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing. Glancing toward the Esperance, he nodded. "Father's coming."

"Aye." Joshamee brought the ship into the shallows of the bay, creeping on momentum as the wind died over the cliffs. "Get as shallow as we can. Drop anchor. Let's get this done." He turned to Will. "I'm thinking that –"

"Mr. Gibbs?" Will was frowning; his eyes narrow as he concentrated his attention out toward his father's ship.

Joshamee stopped. "What?"

"Are those –"

Three warships were bearing down on the bay, still distant but spread far enough to discourage any running off. Gibbs shook his head. "Don't know whose they are, though."

"Well if they're trying to trap us here, I can't imagine its any good."

"Aye. Ready the guns."

"Are you serious? One ship and a damaged Pearl against three –" Abruptly colors were raised on the three approaching ships. Gibbs cursed loudly and colorfully, while Will's shoulders dropped. "Spain."

The stories of Spanish ships patrolling the Caribbean for smugglers and pirates, exacting what justice they felt was appropriate at the time, was one of the main reasons for the tension between Spain and the British Crown. Already the men onboard buzzed with apprehension. Being on the Black Pearl when she was fully functional was one thing; being on a lame ship with her back to the wall in a bay was another.

Will's gaze hardened as he watched them approach. "The Esperance could still get away."

"Aye, lad. But she won't."

Elizabeth came up on deck, having heard the word from below. She stepped closer to Will, her fingers wrapping around his hand as she spoke quietly. "What's going to happen?"

The blacksmith was still watching the sea as he answered just as quietly. "That depends on what they want." His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he gripped her fingers with the other. When he turned to look at her it was abrupt. "I want you armed." Elizabeth looked at him and nodded. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, kissed briefly, and she was gone. He watched after her until she'd reached the hatch.

"She's a fine lass, Will."

Will nodded, gave him half a smile, and looked back out toward the ships that were steadily increasing in size as they grew closer. "Maybe we should tell him to go. Get out of here while he can."

Joshamee laughed humorlessly. "That's Bootstrap Bill you're speakin' of, lad. He wouldn't leave us to 'em if Jack himself ordered it."

Standing solid with his hands on the rail, Will looked more like his father than ever. "Then I need to talk to him."

Turning from Will to yell orders to the gunners, Gibbs shook his head. "I tell you, lad, he's not going to –" by the time he looked back, the boy was gone, and the Esperance was slowing as it eased nearer the Pearl, moving into a position where it could shield her somewhat without blocking the powerful guns.

Captain Jack Sparrow walked along the beach, breathing the soft, moist air and feeling oddly content. He'd finally healed enough to stay awake more than sleep, and was just beginning to feel the restlessness of inactivity. Or at least, inactivity without rum. He stopped, tilted his head and frowned. "Funny, that. I've not even thought about rum in…" shaking his head, he began walking again. "Bloody woman." The contented grin, however, did not leave his face.

It wasn't until now, when he was conscious most of the time that he realized how often she wasn't there. He didn't question her about what she was doing when she vanished, but assumed that being a healer she had various plants to keep track of. Besides… some part of him enjoyed the mystery.

The wind shifted in the trees, and he instinctively stopped to feel it, as if he might have to change the cut of his sails. He almost laughed at himself, but something in the breeze gave him pause. His dark eyes tried to bring the horizon closer, and after a moment, he gave a little shiver.

"Must be tired," he mumbled to himself, and turned to retrace his steps back toward the small hut. When he pulled back the door cloth he was startled to see Coqui standing near the small fire, her shirt off and her back towards him. She was carefully spreading some jellied green substance on the back side of her shoulder, which he could see had an ugly red mark nearly the size of his hand. "Here, let me do that, love." For the first time he saw surprise on her face when he appeared, and he blinked at her. "Weren't expecting company?"

"No, Zulee. I was distracted." She hesitated when he held out his hand for the jar of ointment, but gave in to his steady gaze. He spread it across her wound, watching her face to be sure he wasn't hurting her.

"Not pretty. What happened?"

She didn't speak for a moment, then looked into his eyes again. "You remember the lightning?"

Jack frowned. "That was two days ago, at least." His eyes widened. "You didn't get hit?"

Her quiet chuckle warmed him. "One of the trees. A branch fell."

He put down the jar and turned her by the shoulders to face him. "You should have told me. I've been asleep so much, I didn't know." There was something of the little boy in his expression. "I might have hurt you without knowing it."

"I didn't have time for it until today." The woman smiled up at him, her eyes amused by his confusion. "I heal quickly, Captain Jack Sparrow."

His hands slid to her waist as she looked up and pressed her lips to his, her arms twining around his neck. Afterwards, when he rested his chin on her shoulder, he noticed with surprise that the redness of her injury was already fading to pink. He pulled his head back to look at her. "You do heal quickly, milady."

"Why would I lie?"

They moved by degrees back toward the bed, and eventually, they slept. When Jack awoke with a shiver, she had vanished again.

Will climbed up over the rail of the Esperance, dripping water onto the deck. His father was waiting, since he had been spotted swimming a few lengths away. "What the– Will, what are you doing here?" The sea-blue eyes grew stormy. "Is something wrong?"

In other circumstances, the boy might have laughed. "Other than three Spanish warships coming after us?" Bootstrap frowned.

"I meant – "

"I know. You should take the ship and go."

The look of shock eased into something more paternal. "Oh, I should, should I?"

"Yes! I can get Elizabeth over here, and I'll stay with the Pearl –" Bill's eyebrows raised a bit, and something of the incredulous expression reached his son. "It makes sense."

Bill shrugged. "It might. But it's not going to happen."

"I don't want to lose either of you." The pain on his son's face gave the captain pause.

"You won't. But we're not running."

"Alright, then let's make a deal with them."

"A deal?"

Will sighed, looked around quickly. The Spanish ships were still far off, and most of the crew was manning the guns or watching over the port rail. He drew his sword, shook his head as he emptied seawater from the scabbard, and opened the hilt. In testament to his workmanship, the silk was still dry. "I told you they didn't get the gems."

"Aye. And you should be keeping them safe."

"But we could use them now! Buy our way free."

Bootstrap opened his mouth, closed it again. He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "You're a good man, Will. But don't believe for a minute that giving them the gems would keep any of us alive."

Will's eyes darkened. "Then you think we're doomed?"

Bill glanced toward the shore, then off to the west. "Not doomed. Jack should have taught you more than that."

"But Jack's not here."

His father gave him a smile, put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "No. But let's not give up, alright?"

"Then what?"

The captain of the Esperance exhaled heavily. "There's always shore."

"Not a huge island. And they seemed well armed, if the estate was any example."

"Aye. But that's the last resort." Bill looked at the ships, and gazed west again. "There are other possibilities."

Will frowned, glanced in the direction his father was looking. He knew that far off that way was home… and he'd never missed the quiet boredom of it so much. Still, there was something about his father's expression. "What do you know, father?"

The aquamarine eyes met the brown. "Elizabeth's father had us followed."

"What? Governor Swann?"

"Not because he didn't trust us. Because he was worried about her." Bill lifted his hands in the face of Will's questions. "About all of us, probably, but you know how he is. He had a couple of small, fast ships at the ready."

"You knew?"

"So did Jack. I assume they sent word back when we were attacked over San Juan. "

Will shook his head. "I don't understand. What does it mean?"

"It means," Bill said with a sigh, "That the Governor probably knows we were ambushed. That he probably has information beyond that. And if I know the man at all, he's not going to leave his daughter – or us – at anyone's mercy. It's just a matter of time..."

Will stared, still dripping on the deck, and looked toward the steadily advancing Spanish fleet. "That's a lot of probably to count on."

BOOM.

The sound echoed along the curve of the bay. Bootstrap looked his son in the eye. "I know."