Early in the morning, dawn only just having broke over Port Royal, Will woke from his sleep and dragged himself from the soft reaches of their bed. Elizabeth stirred ever so slightly in her sleep, her arms seeking the warmth that left the bed with him. The small gesture drew a sigh from his lips before he brushed a kiss to her cheek. So early it was that he wished only to crawl back into bed to warm his wife in his arms, but the glow of the light that spilled from the window to the beams of the floor meant that it was time to rise and ready himself for another day of sun and sea.

He was tying his hair back when his son burst through the door. He stole a look at Elizabeth but was not surprised to find that she had not been woken by the noise. It occurred to him that the woman could sleep through anything, save for his leaving her side, and that perhaps with a son like theirs it was a good thing.

It wasn't that Jack was what was considered a child of bad temperament. He did not sass or bicker. Nor did he rip the house to shreds like most boys his age were so inclined to do. In fact, most of the time their son was extremely cautious and careful in everything that he did. The rest of the time, however, he was a veritable whirlwind of energy whose enthusiasm got the best of him—or whoever happened to be around when it took him.

Bursting through doors was nothing new for Jack. The boy pushed a lock of chestnut hair behind his ear, golden eyes shining up at his father. "Good morning Da. Breakfast's on the table!" Quickly as he'd rushed in he rushed out.

Will paled and snuck another glance at Elizabeth before sticking his head out the door after his son, who was bounding down the steps. "Your mother would crow if she found out—"

"I didn't use the fire!" He disappeared around the corner.

Will sighed and ducked back into the bedroom. Tugging his vest on, he ventured to the window to gaze out at the harbor. Hope rose in his chest when sails filled his eyes, but it quickly deflated. They were white sails. And the ship they belonged to was a small fishing sloop—not the grand black beauty that belonged to his friend. He sighed and forced the pirate from his mind, turning from the window to find his boots.

A knock sounded on the door before he could grab them.

"I'll get it!" His son's call echoed through the house as did louder, more insistent knocks. "I'm coming! Hold your horses!"

Will leapt across the room to stick his head out the door again. "Ask who it is before—"

"It's Murtogg and Mullroy!" Jack whipped the door open and grinned at the two soldiers. "Come in! I made breakfast!"

Will closed his eyes, hoping the day would not be as long as he imagined. Shoving his boots on, he cast a longing look at Elizabeth over his shoulder as he left the room. Three voices he heard as he hurried down the stairs toward the kitchen, where sat his son and stood the two redcoats, cheeks full of food that they promptly swallowed upon his entrance. "Good morning Murtogg, Mullroy. What brings you so early in the morn to our home?"

"Commodore's been sent a note," Mullroy said. "Says you're hiding a pirate in the smithy."

Murtogg smiled. "A Mr. Smith in the smithy!"

Mullroy rolled his eyes. "We were sent to check it out."

"I bet it's Uncle Jack!" Jack grinned and dunked a bit of bread into the creamy bowl of coffee. He swallowed hard and nodded. "I saw his ship yesterday in the harbor! The Black Pearl. Ever heard of it?"

Before either soldier could respond, Will glared at his son. "I thought you did not use the fire!"

Jack smiled and dunked another piece of bread. "I thought I didn't use the fire too!" He ate it. "I guess I forgot I used it. I'm sorry Da."

"We didn't want to barge in the place without you," Mullroy told Will. "In the case it was Sparrow and all. He's likely to cause a commotion even if we wouldn't drag him in. Being we never really catch him—"

"We catch him," Murtogg put in. "We caught him a couple times."

Mullroy sighed. "Being that he always escapes in some manner, the Commodore thinks it best to leave him be. 'Sides he's more amusing when left to his own devices, as it were."

Will shrugged. "That's true enough."

Murtogg chuckled.

"Commodore just wants to make sure there aren't no pirates gonna pop out and try to ransom you and yours to Sparrow. Get his attention by napping his friends or something of that sort," Mullroy finished.

"But this has happened before," Will protested. "It is probably another neighbor who spotted the Pearl in the harbor and wished to stir trouble for us. You know better than most what the upper-class of Port Royal think of Jack being here…"

"Bloody blighters," Jack grumbled, biting into a piece of cheese.

Mullroy grinned.

"Watch your mouth, young man," Will advised, dunking his own piece of bread into the coffee.

"I thought that I heard voices." Elizabeth, wrapped in her lilac print robe, hurried into the kitchen, little Lucy on her hip and burying her face in her mother's arms. "This early in the morning it can only mean bad news."

"Morning Missus Turner," both soldiers intoned.

"Good morning. Will?"

He hurried to swallow the too-big bite and winced at the sharp pain in his throat as he did. "Norrington received a note which claimed a pirate to be hiding in the smithy. It's probably the neighbors again but the Commodore wants to be sure there's no threat or trouble." He sighed and looked at his son. "Until we find out, I think it would be best to keep in the house."

"No! Daaad," Jack whined, "I have sailing lessons! Captain Groves is waiting!"

"I am sure he would not object to your safety."

"But I'm supposed to climb the rigging today!"

"We'll go with him, Will," Elizabeth offered. "It's only a short ride away and once we get there I'm sure we'll be safe with Captain Groves and his crew."

"I am sure Groves will not appreciate little Lucy's presence, Elizabeth. And what if there is danger afoot?"

"Nonsense. Everyone loves Lucy! And you said yourself it's probably the neighbors again," she pointed out. "And don't forget who your wife is, Will Turner. I am not and never was the type of damsel that could not protect herself from distress."

Will smiled, remembering the young fiery woman in Elizabeth. His wife had not changed in demeanor, but had also grown to be such a tender mother and wife that at times he forgot what sparked beneath her softness. "Alright," he agreed, squeezing her hand. "I'll not be far and I'll be to the cove as soon as I can." He ruffled his daughter's sun-streaked hair. "Be a good girl, little Lucy."

"Yes okay," she agreed, her little voice sleepy.

"Ma!" Jack's distress was growing louder. "You and Lucy can't go! Women are bad luck on ships!"

Murtogg and Mullroy's snickers were silenced by the woman's glare.

"If that is the sort of thing that Captain Groves is teaching you perhaps he should not be teaching you at all!"

"No, that I learned from Mister Gibbs," Jack told her.

"Oh, get on you," she chided, laying her hands on his shoulders and hustling him out the hallway, "to the upstairs. Help us ready ourselves for our day of sailing!"

Will watched them go and followed the redcoats out of his home. To his dismay, no coach awaited them. The walk to the smithy was a long one, and the walk back was uphill. To make matters worse it was a beautiful sunny day out—which meant it would be sweltering by noon.

"So," Murtogg asked as they slipped through the gate, "did Jack Sparrow really turn down the Gift of Midas' Touch?"

Will sighed. The day was going to be as long as he'd imagined.

--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---

"No boat!"

"It's a ship," Jack told his sister, tugging her away from the coach. "And too bad, you're gonna go on it!"

"But the sea," she whispered, her dark eyes filling with tears.

"Don't worry Lucy, Mama will be with you," Elizabeth told her, picking the girl up. She looked her daughter in the eye and smiled. "The water won't get you."

The trail that wound down to the cove was a long one. Parts of it were particularly craggy, and some spots were grown over. Elizabeth would normally have no trouble following her son on it, but with a child in her arms it was a different story. Not only was it hard to see around the girl to the ground, it was difficult to maneuver oneself in tight spaces. And it felt, Elizabeth thought wryly, as if little Lucy was not so little anymore.

Jack sighed and ran ahead, kicking at pebbles along the way. He turned and waited for his mother and sister, hands on his hips. "Come on! I'll be late!"

"Better late than facing an angry mother," Elizabeth warned. "Don't run ahead again, Jack. We still do not know if danger lurks and though you seem to enjoy making a mess of yourself, I would rather get you to the Tracer in one piece."

"Why'd you have to bring her?" Jack folded his arms and sulked as he slowed pace in front of them. "She'll bawl her eyes out the whole time being over the water."

Little Lucy whined and hid her face in her mother's hair.

Elizabeth swatted at her son's shoulder. "She is your sister! You apologize, Jack William Turner!"

"No." He glared at her and ran ahead.

"Get back here!" Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from cussing after her son. "Jack Turner! Something could happen to you!" As he disappeared around a corner, her brows crossed. "Are you listening to me?"

"I can't hear you!"

"Bloody children," she muttered darkly.

Angry, she tightened her arms around her daughter and stepped faster. Tiny lizards darted out in front of her, slowing her gait and etching lines of frustration on her forehead. Panic rose into her throat when she realized that she could no longer hear her son—no snapping twigs or sliding pebbles—speeding down the trail. Ducking her head, she broke into a run, simultaneously trying to breathe and soothe a whimpering child and keep from taking a nasty spill to the rocks, which felt very unforgiving under her feet. When she came to the clearing at the bottom, she spotted Jack's gleaming chestnut locks and heaved a sigh of relief.

The boy was standing at the edge of the dock, stock-still. Then, suddenly, he darted forward, a flash of blue against the well-worn wood. Elizabeth's gaze followed him, and her mouth dropped open. Her son was throwing his arms around a grinning Captain Jack Sparrow.