Little Sparrow

Summary: "Now up is down," was the last thing any of them heard before the rush of water drowned everything else out. Later, waking up on a random, deserted island, they almost immediately notice that something was not right with their Captain. Sparrington, Salazak, Willabeth, maybe others mentioned.

Norrington woke up to laughter and clash of swords and some whistles of appreciation coming down from the deck as he blearily blinked his eyes open and tried to figure out just why the bloody hell he had fallen asleep in the crow's nest. He sat up slowly and rolled his shoulders and neck, having gotten a cramp despite his best efforts as this was not exactly the most ideal of places to sleep. A quick sound of parrying swords finally made him look down and he arched an eyebrow at what it was that he was seeing.

Jack Sparrow, still aged eighteen, seems to have awakened at least a few hours earlier, judging by how focused he was, was currently crossing blades with an equally awake Will Turner, laughing and taunting the blacksmith as he easily parried and avoided and returned every lung Will tried to make, going from the defensive to the offensive faster than the eye could recognize the difference. Which was odd in itself. While not exactly a sloppy fighter, Jack wasn't exactly on par with Will due to his slighter stature and lack of proper form.

Or rather, Sparrow had never fought anyone seriously enough for anyone to actually know if he could fight properly or not. Even on Isla Cruces, in their three way duel, Sparrow had mostly been trying to get the key and had not made any serious attacks on either James or Will, who had thought themselves superior swordsmen since they could keep their form no matter the insanity that was going on around them. Jack had just left them to it and had gone after the key, content to let the two pursuers of Elizabeth's hand and affections duke it out.

Watching him now, it was obvious he wasn't nearly as bad as his fights so far had suggested. His form was as flue as water, swift in change as the wind and every move was as sharp as his cutlass. He had been holding out on them all, judging by the rest of the crew's interest and confusion. He had the greater sea legs between himself and Will and wheres Will stumbled with a wave, Jack danced with it, shifting from hip to him, like some fey creature hovering above the deck. His slight frame hid a secret strength, too, it would seem, as Will, a sailor and a blacksmith used to putting all of his weight and muscle into a task, could not make him give any ground.

Sparrow was toying with him like his namesake might be toying with a bigger, less maneuverable bird. mocking and taunting before darting out of reach or getting too close and tripping William up as though he were a mere rookie. James was impressed. He had taught Turner and he knew Will to be as fine a swordsman as he was a smith, but this eighteen year old boy was so easily outmaneuvering him that had he not been Captain Jack Sparrow, it would have been embarrassing.

The Admiral easily climbed down from the mainmast, noticing that they were already moving and putting even more distance between themselves and where they have left Sao Feng's men, the sails almost magically catching all of the wind and hogging it for themselves. Nobody noticed where he had come from when he joined the rest of the observers, just in time to see Will frustratingly try to chop Jack's head off, only for the pirate to bend backwards while his hand snapped out, sword catching Will's outstretched arm with the flat of his blade - a potentially deadly cut, if he were to use the sharp end of the blade - and pushing it away. Unbalanced from his unwise move with that simple counter, Will stumbled and nearly fell to the deck, his arms making cartwheels to keep on his feet. Sparrow had straightened and, laughing, hit him on the ass with the flat of his blade, sending him tumbling a few steps forwards until he caught himself on the railing.

''Come on, Will! Don't look like a fool in front of your lass!'' Turner growled and with a scowl, went in for another parry of blows while the others just watched.

''I had thought him better trained,'' Barbossa grunted, pointing with his head at William, who nearly cut his own finger off when Jack met his blade in such a way that it twisted their swords dangerous close to their hands. ''He looked that way so far.''

''I thought so, too.'' James was not at all impressed. Will had ended up being not as half a good swordsman as he had thought. Or it might just be Sparrow. Very possible, that.

''He should be, seeing who trained him.'' Gillete sniffed, offended on his commander's part. Groves was too busy watching the fight to comment at all.

''He might be, but Jack be trained better.'' Gibbs threw in, watching with a grin as Will lunged for Jack, only for the Pirate Lord to jump back onto the railing with a spin that nearly flattened Will to the deck since he had extended a booted leg out for a kick. ''Had to be, after his father saw the trouble 'e kept gettin' in to. His further lifestyle kind of jus' trained 'im further. Jack just prefers not to fight, if 'e can help it.''

''We've noticed,'' Elizabeth said absently, watching the two men duel. She was still learning, after all, and Jack seemed to have some good tricks that weren't considered dirty.

''Come now, whelp. You're embarrassing yourself. You must keep a level head in a battle or, just like that,'' he demonstrated by finally knocking the sword out of Will's hand with a twist of his own, leveling the tip of his sword with Will's throat. ''You could be dead.''

''Where did you learn that move?'' Turner asked, interested despite himself. He had seen only Norringotn do that move before and he said he had been taught it by someone else. How would a pirate who met James twenty years after the boy's current age know such a move?

Jack grinned. ''Picked it up from an old friend - or ex friend - Fitzy. Fine swordsman, he was. Wonder what happened to him. Haven't seen him since I was twelve and he betrayed me by giving me over to the Royal Navy so they could use me against my Da. Shame they didn't know Da wouldn't take that too well.'' He grimaced, almost like a wince of sympathy.

James had zeroed in on only one part of that whole explanation. "Fitzy? That ... that wouldn't happen to be short for a longer name like ... Fitzwiliam, would it?"

Jack just nodded cheerily, obviously knowing full well just who James was. He had figured it out as soon as he realized who he resembled so much. "Yep. Fitzwiliam P. Dalton III. Not a bad pirate for a fake pirate." He grinned at Norrington. "Your cousin ever tell you about the Barnacle?"

"My cousin was never a pirate!"

"Sure he was. He was a pirate and a scalawag and he was a right dirty liar." Jack insisted, walking up to Norrington and leaning into his face with a glare on his face. "Or would a spy be a better word? A mole? A snooper? An undercover agent?"

"My cousin was a Navy intelligence officer." James hissed in the teen's face, a glower in his voice. They both marveled that just last night, they had fairly been cuddling and now they were all but at each other's throats, glaring daggers.

''That's the same thing, Mr Norrington.''

''That's Admiral Norrington to you, pirate.'' Somehow, both titles were spat out and Jack arched an eyebrow at him, considering. He shook his head and leaned away.

''You sound just like him. Just like your father.'' Norrington's back went rigid and his glare intensified on Sparrow, who wasn't fazed at all. He looked almost sad. ''Do you hate pirates as much, I wonder?''

''Don't change the subject.'' Glowered the ex Commodore. Jack just stepped further away and James was struck by a sense of loss that had no place in his heart. Why should he care if Jack no longer wanted to be all cozy like last night?

''I'm not. I want to know what makes you think being called a pirate necessarily means an insult. Fitz sure didn't think so. He didn't exactly take it as a compliment but he had had fun sailing with a pirate's son. Is it so hard to believe someone can be a good person and a pirate?''

Unknowingly, Jack had stumbled upon a very sore topic for the Commodore. It was that very question that had once cost him everything, his career, his standing, his ship, his men, his life. What he hated the most was that he could still not determine if Jack Sparrow was indeed a good man as well as a pirate.

Seeing the turmoil on James' face, Jack turned around and walked away, heading for his cabin without another word. There was a thick silence and only Gibbs and Tia Dalma dared sigh in exasperation, something along lines of 'Teenagers,' uttered like an oath under their breath. Norringotn just climbed back up the mainmast and settled back into the crow's nest, trying his hardest to ignore the shivers and groans of the Black Pearl, working on convincing himself that he hadn't noticed as hard as he was trying to assure himself that he didn't care if the sudden camaraderie between him and Sparrow had been shattered once more. And by his own doing, once again.

''Pintel?''

''Hm?''

''Wot was dat?''

''If I didn' know no better, I'd say a lover's spat.''

''Not another one!''

Barbossa took great pleasure in walloping them both over the head.

00000

James climbed down back to the deck only at noon, when he saw that everyone but Sparrow had went below deck to get away from the heat and eat something, the helm tied to hold their current course while the Captain of the Black Pearl was sitting on the railing of the quarterdeck, a fishing pole in hand, a bucket full of fishes and another set beside it for his future catches, humming some tune and occasionally looking at his Compass, his gaze drifting onto the horizon in the direction it showed before closing it and focusing on the task at hand, only to repeat the process again only minutes later.

James felt almost guilty for approaching him now, as he looked almost peaceful. His legs were swinging over the side of the ship and he was obviously enjoying the sun. He showed no signs that his nightmare had happened at all. James, for a second, doubted he had maybe dreamed up the whole thing and had just sleepwalked up to the crow's nest if not for the beaming smile Jack had sent him before he had gone and put his foot in his mouth this morning.

But he had to speak with Jack. He had thought over their conversation this morning and the thought had occurred to him that he didn't know how Fitzwiliam and Jack had met and what their story was. But Jack had implied that Fitzwiliam had pretended to be his friend only to betray him in the end by giving him over to, no doubt, James' own father. He remembered a time when he was not allowed to now where his cousin was and eh did remember his father once catching some pirate boy to get to another pirate. It would have never occurred to him that that might have been Jack.

He needed to clear the air between them up before it became awkward, but he wasn't sure how to start. He had never before realized just how awkward he was in conversation and society in general when he wasn't giving or receiving orders until he actually started trying to make an effort. And with Jack of all people! The older version would no doubt have laugh if he remembered all of this when he turned back to normal, eventually. Still, that was no excuse not to apologize to this Jack for how he had treated him and right after Sparrow had opened up to him last night.

Now, if only he knew what to say ...

''You don't have to say anything.'' Jack said as soon as Norrington was within hearing distance, looking at him over his shoulder with a bitter little smile. ''You're not the first person to react to me like that because of how I was born and raised. You even have the excuse of being raised to react like that yourself, what with what a jerk your Da was. No offense intended, but he is.''

''To say otherwise would be a grave lie,'' he replied wryly and was pleased when the smile became a little less bitter and a bit more amused. ''And I wish to apologize for my behavior and how it had come out. I could make the excuse and say that it was habit or the way of my upbringing, but I don't want to insult you with a weak excuse like that. I guess I was just ... angry. I used to look up to my cousin as a boy, but he never had time for me, especially after he returned from that mission. He was always training, saying things like 'I can't believe he beat me', 'I need to get better to beat him the next time' and 'When had he gotten so good?' I felt neglected and I guess all those emotions just resurfaced at the worse possible moment. I'm sorry I snapped at you.''

''It's okay. I'm sorry, too, for provoking you further.'' He twisted his upper body so he was half facing the Admiral, one hand extended for a shake. ''Are we square?'' He sounded a little hopeful, which only charmed James further and he reached out to shake the dark, beringed hand.

''I believe we are.''

''Good!'' As if his cheer had summoned a fish, Jack felt a violent tug on the line, almost toppling him overboard had James not still been holding onto him. ''Whoa, that's a big one!'' He shook off James grasping hand when he regained his balance and took the pole with both hands while Norrington, panicking he might topple over anyway, took hold of his waist. It was a good thing he did, as another hard tug dragged them both closer to the railing. Jack turned his head so he was facing the older man, their noses almost touching, and grinned from ear to ear. James laughed as they felt another tug and tugged back together, fighting a fish that was surely big enough to be the crew's dinner tonight. ''On three?''

''Three!'' And they tugged, fighting with the fish for a good two minutes before it tired a little and they took their chance. They struggled a little until Jack was on solid ground - so to speak - before, with their joined strength, they managed to pull a big black drum, the wiggling fish trying to break free and return to the sea. The two males laughed as they watched it flop on the deck, alerting the crew that something was up and they ran up to see, only to gawk at the large fish, almost as big as Jack's whole chest.

''That's what I call a fish!''

''That's what I call a feast!'' Gibbs crowed, going over to take the fish, weighting it. ''I'd say this beauty 'as some ninety to hundred pounds. Capt'n. Commodore. Nice catch.'' The two mentioned just grinned at each other as they stood up.

''Don't forget the other bucket, Mr Gibbs!'' Jack called after him as he went to take the fish away into the kitchen. Needless to say, yesterday's fishing crew looked awed at the number of fish caught without a single piece of bait on the hook. Seeing the looks they were giving him, the Caribbean Pirate Lord winked at them. ''Just need a gentle touch, luv.''

''I swear you're some fey creature, Sparrow.'' Babrossa grumbled and Jack just laughed at him. The older captain scowled but said nothing as he was tossed a green apple. If he didn't know any better, he'd say Sparrow was trying to butter him up. Well, he already had Jack the monkey's vote, seeing as the little primate was clambering all over him and chattering excitedly. Very strange, seeing as Jack and Jack never got along.

''I might be. My Mum's origins are a bit shaky, you know.'' Sparrow teased as he followed after his first mate with the rest of his catch. ''I hope there's some grub left for the Captain!''

''I think Cotton ate it all.''

''Arrrrg! Walk the plank! Walk the plank!''

''This is a mad ship.'' Gillete breathed and Groves just laughed. James couldn't help but agree more. No one ever said madness was a bad thing, though.