You know, I really thought I was done this time, but that's the danger with letting Jack start directing things… once more with feeling. And thank you, so much, for those who let me know what they think! Muchos smooches to you.

o-o-o

o-o-o

Captain Jack Sparrow stepped to the port rail where William Turner - currently taking a theoretical cut in status if not in pay to act as his head carpenter – leaned wearily as he looked out across the water. He spoke quietly, without acknowledging his friend's arrival.

"They're pushing too hard, Captain."

Jack looked almost pathetically hopeful. "And that's a good thing, eh?"

Bill rolled his eyes at the pleading expression. "It'd be just fine if we were closer to done, Jack, but frankly…"

Ten days of work had passed. While the deck jobs were done, the mast wasn't yet finished and the men were already exhausted; still, it didn't stop them from pushing as hard as the day they started.

Bill glanced around and spoke more quietly. "At this rate someone's going to get hurt. You saw how Joshamee looked. I practically had to order him off duty."

The pirate sighed, his dark eyes searching the sea. "What can I do?"

Bill shrugged expressively. "I don't know. We've got at least another week's work." Jack winced. "I need more time or more men, Jack."

The captain ran his hand distractedly over the new rail in an elegant gesture and smiled. He couldn't feel a join between the repair and the original wood. "Beautiful work, William."

The carpenter shrugged. "It's the wood."

Jack tipped his head back as he squinted. "Even I know it's the carpenter, old friend." He extended his hand formally. "Thank you. There's no one I'd rather have take care of her."

Bill chuckled as he shook the hand. Clapping the other man's shoulder, they turned back to look out over the sun kissed blue water. Abruptly they leaned farther over the rail in unison, staring with sudden intensity.

"Jack."

"I see 'er."

"I must be workin' 'em too hard if no one's on lookout."

A voice called out from amidships. "Ship ahoy!"

Jack grinned and glanced over at Bill. "That would be your son."

Bill frowned. "I'd have caught it sooner."

"Aye, but so would he if he wasn't supposed to be sleeping right now. He's not on duty for another two glasses."

The younger Turner trotted to the rail and Jack spoke without looking away from the fast approaching ship. "Shouldn't you be in bed, boy?"

"Couldn't sleep. Something felt… strange." Bill and Jack shared a quick nod as Will stared out over the sea. "Good God. Is that – the Dauntless?"

"Looks like, son." Bill shook his head with a sigh. "Don't suppose they've come for tea."

Will's eyes widened. "We've got to get Jack out of here." The urgency in his voice made the pirate grin.

" We'll see what they want, first."

"But – if Norrington sees you –"

"Norrington saw me as soon as they rounded that coast. We're in plain view."

"Then get to the island. Maybe the lady –"

"No." Jack's voice purred quietly. "I'm not bringing the British navy down on her. She's done quite enough."

Will opened his mouth, saw the look in his father's eyes, and closed it again. Frowning, he stared down at the deck and then back out towards the Dauntless, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Shall I call the men?"

Bill put a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "Let's not borrow trouble. But perhaps Mr. Gibbs should be here?" Jack nodded. "And maybe you should be below decks when they arrive, Jack?"

"I'm fine where I stand, William."

Within half an hour a dinghy was bumping up against the Pearl, and a rope was tossed down. Commodore James Norrington swarmed up the side and swung a leg over the rail with an ease that made it clear that he was still a sailor at heart. He glanced around with an expression that bordered on approval at the well-kept ship.

"Good afternoon, Captain Turner."

William nodded as Norrington extended his hand, shook it firmly. "What can we do for you, Commodore?"

The commodore seemed to ignore the comment, looking toward Jack with what appeared to be a quick evaluation, then on to where Joshamee was standing. "Mr. Gibbs. I see repairs are proceeding?"

Gibbs frowned, his eyes bright in the sun. "Aye…"

"We were concerned when we saw the Esperance on the other shore with a – pardon the expression - skeleton crew. I wanted to make sure all was well." His eyes shot to Jack once more before moving to Will. He nodded politely, noticing the young swordsmith's knuckles were white over the hilt of his weapon. "Mr. Turner, I trust your wife is in good health." Will blinked, confused by the polite offensive.

"She's fine."

Finally Norrington's glance dropped to Jack. The barest smirk flashed over his face before he extended his hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. Commodore James Norrington."

Sparrow's eyebrow quirked upwards as he looked from the man's face to his hand. Norrington continued with exaggerated calm.

"And you would be?"

Jack swayed slightly backward, then extended his hand carefully, as if he were reaching into a wolverine's cage. "Captain Jack Sparrow."

The commodore chuckled. "Ah, one of those pirate conceits. The Black Pearl will always have a 'Sparrow' at her helm, eh?" He frowned theatrically. "Didn't the Dread Pirate Roberts do the same?"

Will was shaking his head in confusion. "Are you suggesting you don't know –" He stopped as his father's hand touched his arm. Norrington looked at the younger man and smiled thinly.

"I know I haven't met this man. 'Captain Jack Sparrow', the pirate, is dead. I certainly wouldn't have reported that to the king if it wasn't true. And his Majesty certainly wouldn't have pardoned him and his crew if he wasn't dead." The men standing around him let this settle, and Jack's smile glinted briefly in the sunlight.

"Well, then, Commodore. It's a pleasure to meet you." Jack oozed closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Would you care for some rum?"

Norrington bristled a bit at the familiarity, stepping away. The look in his eye made it clear he'd gone as far as he was going to go. "No. Thank you. I assume you're now captain of this ship?"

"Aye, Commodore. You're a perceptive man." Jack was having a difficult time keeping a straight face.

"And I also assume it will no longer be used as a pirate vessel?"

Jack opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at Norrington from the corner of his eye. "As I said," he finally replied, "you're a perceptive man. My first sail will be to take this youngster and his bonnie wife home again." He leaned in conspiratorially, making the officer draw back slightly as he whispered. "She's in a family way, y'know."

"Jack –"

Norrington's surprised expression slowly faded to one of genuine pleasure. He looked at Will with a smile. "Congratulations, Mr. Turner," he said, shaking hands with the blacksmith. "My best wishes for your family."

"It'll be twins, I'm sure. And they're going to name 'em both after me."

"Jack-"

"Yes, one Jack, and the other –"

"Jack!"

The pirate frowned. "Well, I suppose, but that'd be a bit confusing."

The commodore let the comments go, turning back to the more sane demeanor of Captain Turner. "I see you've still got some work ahead before she's seaworthy."

William nodded. "We may be here a while, Commodore. I trust this isn't disputed territory?"

"No, not at all." He glanced over at the island. "Even the French won't fight for this little bit of green." Straightening up formally, he added, "Can my crew be of any service?"

The men looked at each other. Finally Bill stepped forward and spoke up. "We'd certainly appreciate it, Commodore. We can use the extra hands."

"I'd do the same for any citizen of the crown, Captain Turner. Let me make arrangements."

o-o-o

o-o-o

Three days later, while the setting sun painted the clouds with deep rose and purple, three ships worked closely just off Palomino Island. The two farther from shore bowed slightly to the other, long ropes connected them like spider webs in complicated patterns. A man was standing at the bow of the Pearl, shouting orders in a deep voice that were relayed with military precision.

With both the Dauntless and the Esperance poised to haul it into place, the new mast was set in with a minimum of trouble. William looked positively relieved as the last ropes were cast off and it stood solidly on its own. He swarmed up to lash the high crosstree into place himself, leaving the crew to raise the lower.

Standing near the water barrel, he drank deeply. "She's nearly done, Jack. Some rigging to finish and we can be off."

"How long?"

William looked up with a practiced eye. "Half a day." He looked toward the horizon, where the sun was settling in for the night. "Late tomorrow, to be safe."

Jack was staring upwards, his dark eyes shining. "I thank you, William." The ship rose on the swell, somehow feeling more like the Pearl than she had before. "She's happy."

Bill laughed. "Aye. As long as her captain is." He clapped Jack on the shoulder before heading back to the workers at the bow, planning tomorrow's work on the shrouds. Jack watched after him for a while, distracted enough that he was surprised by a low, formal voice behind him.

"If you have a moment."

He turned slowly, as if his eyes were trying to see behind him before he actually moved. "Commodore."

"I need to know something, Mister Sparrow."

"Captain. Captain Sparrow."

"Yes." The commodore's eyes were hard as he looked at the pirate. "His Majesty knows more than you might think."

Jack blinked in amused confusion. "You talked to him yourself, I suppose?"

Norrington glanced off toward the eastern horizon, where the blue of the sky was as dark as the sea. "He's willing to keep the charade in place, if you're willing to do the occasional …assignment for him."

"Work for the crown?" Sparrow's voice was incredulous.

The commodore's eyebrows rose. "From time to time, Captain, there are jobs that are better suited to those more accustomed to the underbelly of the law."

Jack began to protest, then stopped with a resigned shrug. "I must admit to some familiarity with said underbelly."

"Exactly. So when his Majesty calls…?"

Sparrow stepped closer to the rail and looked out into the sunset. For a few minutes he simply watched as the clouds were touched with golden fire. Then he glanced back toward the island, and with a nearly contented sigh, he spoke. "Perhaps it's time for a change, James."

The commodore stiffened, then exhaled slowly. "Indeed."