"No."
"But it'll be fun!"
"I can not go," Will told him. "Jack needs me."
"Yes! So you'll go?"
"No!" He sighed. "Not you, Jack. We named our son Jack."
Jack scowled. "Why is it someone's always naming something after me?"
The small smile Will managed as he pounded a piece of iron into shape turned to a frown. From his work he looked to the pirate and his gaze narrowed. "Why do you need me?"
Wide-eyed, Jack held up both hands. "Easy, lad." His gaze flit from the blacksmith to the heavy sledge in his hand and back again, a wavering smile twitching his lips. "The last time I saw one of those in your hand I remember not remembering very much."
Will looked down at the cause for Jack's alarm and smothered a laugh as he hefted it in the air and glared at the backstepping pirate. "Tell me why you need me!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, mate." Jack stepped over a brick. "Really, is this any way to treat a—pirate?" He stepped back again, over a ceramic jug. "Not to mention a well-meaning, 'good man' of a pirate who knew your father, saved your bonny lass from drowning, and rid the world of Barbossa and his not-alive-but-neither-are-they-dead crew of miscreants?"
"You've forgotten wanting to trade my life for a ship, risking both of our lives and that of Elizabeth numerous times, nearly getting us both hanged several times, and—" Will paused, shaking the sledge at what he hoped seemed dangerously close to his friend's embellished head, "setting fire to Governor Swann's wig!"
"That—" Jack paled, eyes on the threatening tool, and backed his way over a wooden beam, "was purely accidental." His brows came together as he pointed a finger in the air. "Twas a fire hazard just waiting to happen!"
"And one I have not yet managed to live down!"
"Still livid, is he?"
"No. But it has become yet another reason to scoff at the name of his daughter's husband." Will scowled and hefted the sledge higher, sending Jack tumbling over a crate, hands grasping empty air, and onto his backside. "What do you want? I should have known the intention of your visit was not to trade stories over a spot of tea. I should have known that there was something that you wanted of me. What is it this time, Jack?"
Jack's mouth drew inward and then pressed itself in a line. He rolled his eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Alright! But would you please put that horrific hammer away? Just looking at it is giving me a headache!" Climbing to his feet, he winced and rubbed at his offended rump. "And I don't need one of those on top of the pain you always seem to cause in my backside."
Will laid the sledge down and nodded toward a suitable spot for what he could only imagine would be a tedious conversation. He turned to offer Jack the bench, but the pirate had already perched upon the barrel and was tapping a boot against it, waiting for him to sit. He did.
"I don't need you," Jack told him. "Not really. It's just always best to have…" His dark eyes fell upon the many finely crafted swords about the place. "A skillful hand about. And while you are definitely the dullest son of a pirate I've ever encountered, you are certainly sharp with and a master of…" He nodded at the closest—a perfectly balanced, gold-topped beauty. "The blade."
The flush that rose into his face Will hid as he reached for the sword Jack mentioned, remembering suddenly how rare it was that they saw each other. Handle in one hand and blade flat against the other palm, he presented it to his friend. "I can't believe I nearly forgot to give this to you."
Jack arched a brow. "What?"
"I made this for you," Will explained. "To make up for the one I lost to the sea."
"You really shouldn't have, mate." Jack Sparrow leapt down from his perch and ran an appraising fingertip along the length of the shining metal. He accepted the handle from Will and brought it up in defense against the barrel as if it were an attacking enemy. Then he whistled. "Beautiful work, that. Perfectly balanced," he noted, giving it a gentle toss and catching it with ease. He brought the handle up to examine the careful etching in the simple handle. "And a work of art. When I said you were a master swordsmith, I meant it."
"Consider it consolation."
Jack frowned. "For?"
"I can not go with you this time, Jack. A friend of ours is…" Will blushed. "Giving Jack lessons in the art of the sail."
"What?" This time both brows rose. "Who?"
"Captain—"
"You're having some simple sailor school your son, in whose veins flows the blood of Bootstrap Bill Turner, on the art of the sail?" Jack sheathed the new sword and balled his hands into fists at his sides. "When his Uncle Jack's got a bloody pirate ship and plenty of free time on his hands?"
"How was I to know you would grace us with your presence?" Anger had crept into Will's voice surely as it had projected Jack's. "It's been a month at most since we last saw you and it usually takes more than that for Captain Jack Sparrow to unearth trouble and drag us into his plot to go after it."
"Trouble! Treasure is not trouble!"
"I suppose it's not supposed to be," Will conceded. He narrowed his eyes on Jack. "But if it's treasure you're after it's bound to be nothing but trouble."
Jack tsked.
"Which is why after you left last time Elizabeth and I decided that sailing lessons would benefit Jack greatly. If he's going to call Captain Jack Sparrow Uncle Jack he should at least know how to look after himself on a ship. Since we're never sure when Uncle Jack is going to call on us to go looking for tr—"
"Treasure."
"Trouble."
Jack rolled his eyes and glowered at Will. For all the years between them, both his son Jack and the pirate Jack reacted to his scolding much the same way. "Alright," the pirate growled. He leaned an elbow on the barrel and slapped his other hand on his hip, evoking all of the authority of a seaworn pirate captain. "Since it is not me salted self teachin your first born the ropes, I suppose you've run off and got him the next best thing?"
"Captain Groves."
Jack shrugged. "Royal Navy War Hero second best to Captain of the Black Pearl… I'd say that's about right." He fixed Will with a glare. "He best know how to tie every knot and haul every line next time he boards me ship. Not that I doubt the boy's ability. It is in his blood, afterall."
"He takes to it well," Will agreed. "Better than I. When I show up at the cove, I find myself lost while Jack's spinning circles around me. He is a fast learner on ship. Some of the proper names for sails he has trouble with, but he tries very hard to remember them."
"Sounds dedicated."
"Yes. And Groves is a thorough teacher. He takes Jack on for a bit each day." He smiled. "Next time Jack boards your ship, I wouldn't be surprised to hear him telling you a thing or two about sailing."
Jack grinned. "I can hardly wait till next time." He straightened up, fixing the hat on his head and smoothing the cuffs of his coat before he stuck his hand at the blacksmith. "Well Mr. Turner, you have work to do and I've trouble to find."
Will shook it and watched Jack walk away. "I thought you said treasure wasn't trouble."
The pirate paused at the door and cocked his head to the side. "Did I?" He winked, and was gone.
On the way home from the smithy, Will noted the empty harbor with a heavy heart. The Black Pearl had gone as quickly as she had come. And she had taken her captain with her. While Will had grown accustomed to the way that Jack slipped in and out of his life, he had never gotten used to fearing for him when they parted ways. It was no better a feeling knowing that Jack had his heart set on finding what would most likely be more trouble than it was worth, and for a moment his hand hesitated on the handle of the door as he considered trying to find the Black Pearl before it was too late.
Perhaps, he thought, if he found Jack and if they went together to find whatever it was he was after, nothing bad would happen.
Then the door swung open and hit him on the nose.
"Oh!" Elizabeth gasped. "Will! You're bleeding!"
He groaned and swiped at his lip, wincing at the sticky feel of blood on his skin. "So much for nothing bad happening."
"I'm so sorry!" She produced a linen from the pocket of her shirt and attended to his injury with the care of a mother's touch. Her warm gaze met his and she smiled. "Hold this. Tip your head back."
"Do you think it is broke?"
"No. Only bleeding."
"Well that's a relief." He sighed and leaned against the brick of the house. "Jack's left."
"Yes, I heard." She snuggled up against him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "And I knew that you would worry. But you forget that he is more than capable of taking care of himself. You forget that he is a pirate, Will."
