Well sorry I take so long, but I've come down with a serious case of writers' block. So don't expect me to update very often. Anyhow, yesh:

RespectTheSporks: Weehoo, new reader! You know, I can't wait either. Wonder how he's gonna do it...;:shifty eyes:;

CrazyforWill: Weehoo (again), new reader (again)! Yeah, I should've made him fall...oh well, he falls down enough as it is...or he will, anyway...;:more shifty eyes:;

Authoressinhiding: Hi there, again! Long time no see. Erm, well, maybe this'll be some sort of hint to toward the solution...to be quite honest, I'm not entirely sure how this is gonna go down. O well, I'll get it eventually. I almost always do!

Jess Is A Pirate: FUNF! dotdotdot You know I'm still holding your chinchilla hostage, right?

Disclaimer: All hail the mouse.

Oh, and my sincerest apologies if any of this sounds, like, sappy or OOC, 'cause I was listening to the Narnia soundtrack when I was writing the last half of this. And again, sorry if it's a bit out there...Oki, now that all that's over with, here be the long-awaited chapter! w000000!

Chapter Six: A Midnight Visitor

"Now, see? You just hold the blade like this and strike it, like so." A loud clang rang out through the smithy as Will struck the hot, glowing metal. Amy jumped. She'd expected it to be loud, but not this loud. She blinked and wiggled her ears. "Shapes the metal, flattens it. What ever you need to do with it, it's all by the mallet," Will continued. But he was only giving her a brief tutorial, as he didn't quite trust her to make swords for the Commodore and soldiers. That would have been irresponsible. But, mind you, she was pulling her weight. For instance, while he worked to complete his orders, she cleaned up the smithy and looked after his mule, even prepared lunch, and so on. Wouldn't consider that pulling her weight, eh? Well, with someone else to take care of those minor chores, Will Turner had more time to work. The worth of however many extra orders he was able to finish thanks to her help around the smithy would add up in her 'account' until her debt was paid.

That afternoon, they found themselves with some rare free time, and Amy drew Jack's cutlass from the scabbard at her hip and admired how the sunlight played off it. "You know, I could use a bit more practice." She pointed the blade toward him. "If I may." He drew his sword in answer. "Ah, then let's see whatcha got!" She lunged at him, which he parried easily. She struck again, just the speed of which forced him back against a wall. She struck again, and he took advantage of her lack of experience to force her blade sideways and dart out. She pursued, and they parried yet again, their movements dancelike. They had moved, by now, to the open space by the wooden ramp and the upper level of the shoppe, where Will and Jack had had their first encounter. "So," she said conversationally, easily blocking one of his blows, "Ye got a girl, right?" Jack's accent had returned to her lips, as if she were mocking them both.

"Yes."

"And are ye still practicing three hours a day, mate?"

Will parried another of her blows. "Yes, when I can."

"Hmm." Will raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you are a eunuch after all." Jack whinnied, this time more of a low sound, seeming almost as if he were laughing—which he was. Will pursed his lips and struck a bit more powerfully than he had intended. Ames took advantage of this and, instead of parrying, darted out of the way, causing him to stumble forward without a blade to support his blow. She made a move for his now-exposed back, but three hours a day actually can come in handy; he was able to block her effort without fully turning around and while severely off-balance. They were back out in the open area once again. Ames took a wary step to her left, Will doing the same so that they countered each other's movements. "So we circle," came Jack's accent again, only this time without the humor. "Like dogs...we circle." She struck out, and they parried once again.

Minutes ticked by, marked only by the clang of steel against steel. They had found their way onto the upper level of the smith-shoppe, and once again they circled. A bold move on the girl's part had them 'snagged' by the blades, straining against each other—if one slipped, the other had a good chance to be the victor. She knew Will was going easy on her—he was obviously stronger than she was, after all. In a sense, he was toying with her as she was, and had been taught to, with him, the only real difference being the amount of experience each had harnessed. Yes, Jack had taught her to sort of toy with her adversary, test their limits and see what they could and could not do before targeting their weakness or weaknesses and coming in, so to speak, for the kill. It was for this reason that Will had beaten Jack in their first sword fight; he'd figured out what Jack had been doing and had caught him off-guard. That's all. With a twist of her wrist, their swords suddenly released their holds on one another. So sudden was this move, or so it seemed, that Will's sword was yanked free of his grip. With a clumsy lunge, Ames managed to catch it before straightening and swiftly pointing its tip at his throat. Will smiled slightly. "Well done—"

"No, Will, I really don't think it was," she said with disappointment. "As I said, I need to practice. So tell me: how am I supposed to get better when my opponent goes easy on me, or above all, let's me win?" Will's smile faded; she'd seen right through him. "Now," she flipped his sword, offering it hilt-first to him, "let's try that again." And they both rocked into ready positions.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Evening had fallen, and Amy and Will were just finishing their dinner. Ames wrinkled her nose at her cooking as she swallowed the last forkful. "Oki, next project: teach me to cook." Will murmured agreement, and she shot him a playfully hurt look before looking up to see Jack staring out an open window, ears pricked and quivering, at the moon. She crept up beside him and admired it as he was.

Brings back a lot of old memories, he murmured with a sideward glance at her. Some good, some not so favorable. It seems the moon has, in a sense, become a part of me. He made a curious noise. You've no idea how strange I feel saying that. He paused for a thoughtful moment. On second thought, it could just be that I'm an equine and have not yet adjusted to this particular manner of speaking...

The lass laid a hand on his neck. "No need for excuses, Captain... This must be hard for you, Jack."

Jack sighed, letting the air rush out through his nose with a quiet whoosh. Aye, I must admit it's a predicament I had never imagined myself in medias res. And to be quite honest, all this uncertainty is making me a bit... he cleared his throat—or at least, that's what she took the sound he made to be—embarrassed, somewhat, at admitting he wasn't exactly comfortable with his current situation. But we'll find a way around it. I always do: after all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?

Amy chuckled gently. "Aye, Captain," she agreed softly. "You always seem to be able to find your way. Just remember—" she imitated one of his classic gestures—holding up her two index fingers—and quoted from a certain trailer, "—'You won't be able to talk your way out of this one.'" Jack flicked his ears uneasily. The teenager noticed and her eyes widened in excitement. "You mean the whole blooddebttoDaveyJonesandthekrakenandthecannibalsthing already happened?" o0 Jack nodded. "Oh great. Now I really can't wait for that movie to maketh its debut!"

Jack winked at her and 'smiled'. She had mentioned a sequel were being made to that play she'd described to him. Well, you know...I can always tell you how it went. After all, I was there.

Ames nodded. "That would be cool, Jack. Thanks."

Jack bobbed his head and gestured with his muzzle toward the piles of hay off in one corner of the smithy's upper level. Come, come along. May as well get comfortable; this could take a while, he added wryly. They moved to that part of the shoppe, Jack having to execute some quirky jump to scramble up. Once they were both settled, he began. Without hands, he resorted, subconsciously, to gesturing with his ears, tail, and occasionally his muzzle. He had a very wide vocabulary, his young audience soon learned, but that only strengthened the clarity of the mental image his words described, and she felt sad for him amid her wonder at the story. The movie playing out in her head as he dictated it was suddenly interrupted by a picture of him as a human describing to her his story, hands gesturing wildly before him as if he were physically weaving the words flowing from his mouth into the tale he told. She closed her eyes, holding on to that image; he seemed much happier, so confident, so much more at home in that picture than he was right in front of her, where his playful eyes seemed to have lost their spark and in that place instead held some amount of sadness, discontent, a lack of sureness.

Jack wove his tale for the lass. She was a curious one, and he was glad to have such an eager audience. She had an active imagination, he knew; back on the Pearl—how he missed her!—she would sometimes spend hours at a time standing or sitting out of the way, and just daydreaming the whole time. And she demonstrated this now as she closed her eyes to better imagine his tale. He allowed himself a moment as he spoke to close his own eyes and imagine himself as a human, telling her about all of his adventures, a fond arm round her shoulders and her head cradled in his shoulder like a daughter's as she listened. Ah, if only. If only...He opened his eyes and looked at this girl who had come to him, only now realizing the bond that had grown between them in so short a time. He felt different; his position, though he had not shifted, seemed very awkward. He knew what had happened, and grinned mentally, pausing in his tale to see how long it would take her to look up or notice. -Best to surprise her,- he thought to himself. A several very long moments passed, possibly minutes, before she realized Jack had stopped talking. She opened her eyes slowly, and found that instead of staring at a hoof, she now stared at a boot. Her gaze shot upward and met the face of her friend. This time, he smiled outwardly, golden teeth glinting. Slightly unsteady on his legs as he kneeled there, he was completely unprepared when Amy threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and ended uptoppling backward, taking her with him. But her embrace—and her back, at that—were strong enough that she was able to pull them both up and steady him. Her hug tightened, and he was content to hug her shoulder back with his chin in an equine movement.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Will walked in to see his guest wrap her arms around a familiar figure, the pair nearly toppling over, and his jaw dropped to see his friend allow an insane girl embrace him so passionately. He would have to remember to admit her to a mental asylum. She needed it, if she thought she was from another world as well as thinking her horse was Jack. He looked around—where was her horse, anyway? With a blink, he turned back to the two. What was Jack doing with his chin? And then as if only just remembering he had arms, he suddenly returned her embrace, just as tight, just as passionate. Needless to say, Will's mouth still gaped.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Ames was surprised enough that Jack had allowed her embrace, much more that he had returned it. She had never felt so safe as she did now in those arms. "Welcome back," she murmured softly, twisting around so she was leaning against him, her head cradled in his shoulder. "You think it wore off?"

No, somehow I don't think that's how it works, luv, he nickered gently, the deep equine noises resonating deep in his chest and against the child's jaw as it rested there.

She yawned then, hastily bringing up a hand to cover her mouth. "Mmm, excuse me. 'Guess I'm a bit tired."

I would imagine so—it's well past midnight by now. Jack nodded , though she couldn't easily see him, out of equine habit, and shifted their positions so that she was supported more stably against him. Go ahead and sleep. I don't mind. She opened her mouth to protest. Now, the story can continue another time. You need your sleep, luv. She blinked up at him gratefully before snuggling against his chest and falling quickly asleep—a rare occurrence that had been happening increasingly often since her arrival to the Caribbean. With care not to disturb the child, Jack gently remover her glasses, folding them and setting them on the floor nearby, still within reach.

Will chose this moment to approach Jack, moving quietly when he saw the girl was slumbering. The two friends made eye contact for a moment before Will spoke softly. "I can see you're fond of her, Jack." Jack responded with a silent blink of his eyes. "But we should send her to an asylum or something. She's ill in the head." Jack carefully, protectively, wrapped his free arm around the girl sleeping in his lap. "Jack," Will pleaded, "she needs help." Jack said nothing, just stared silently, angrily at the young blacksmith—who found no comfort in that rarest of rare silences. With a sigh, he leaned his head against the wall he had leaned them against and closed his eyes, arms still wrapped protectively around the lass. And through the night, he even went as far as to carefully draw his cutlass from his scabbard at Ames' waist and just sleep with it in his hand... Just in case of what Will might try.

Jack woke before dawn, slowly opening his eyes in the near-darkness and gazing down with a fatherly fondness at the girl snuggled against him. -Too early to wake her just yet,- he thought. -Let her sleep in a bit.- And so he was left in that early-morning silence with his thoughts. -How to get her back home...- He would have to remember who had journeyed as she had. It was someone close, someone of importance, the kind of person you really wouldn't forget. And it was this kind of forgetfulness that eats away at you, bothers you about it until you can remember. -We'll have to watch out for Norrington. Will is so bent on sending her off, God knows what he'll resort to.- And just like that, the light clicked on, and he knew exactly who they needed to go to. He gave her shoulder a gentle shake—he did not want to wait, for fear of forgetting again. Ames, wake up. ...Nothing. Ames, it's important. Her eyes fluttered under their lids, but she didn't wake. Todd! Come on then, get up already, I've got something hat needs saying.

"No more mangoes!" her eyes flew open. "Oh, it's only you, Debbie." She grunted sleepily and closed her eyes again. "This had better be good."

It is, Jack said immediately, shifting her so the could meet each others' gaze. I know who we need to talk to about a journey such as yours. She blinked confusedly, her brain still a bit muddled from sleep. It could very well be the next step to getting you home.

Amy's eyes widened. "Really? Who?"

Well, it's not exactly who I would've picked for that sort of thing, but hey, that's the way these things work out sometimes. See, it's—...

Oh I'm so mean for leaving it there. And y'know, you'll all prolly end up waiting like two months for the next chapter. Anyone want to try a guess? If so, press the button and leave a review. If not...press the button and leave a review anyway! Okay than. Til next time.