All right, I lied - you'll have to wait another whole chapter for some romance. But I did add in some scenes in which James gets to know Jamie better, which I hope turn out OK. Oh, and this is the end of Jack (within this fic, at least), so the rest is all about James and Elizabeth and Will. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All rights, characters, settings, names, etc. belong to Disney.

22. One Day More

James woke early the next morning and lay with his eyes closed as he listened to the chirruping of the birds in the trees and the gurgling of the nearby brook. The earth beneath him smelled mossy and damp, and the tree branches above him swayed ever so slightly in the light breeze, the shadows they cast dancing across James's face.

Finally, James convinced himself to get up, and, after washing up in the creek, he made his way back to Elizabeth's cottage, tripping over a still-sleeping Jack as he did so.

'Oomf!' grunted Jack irritably as he opened one eye to find a disgruntled James sprawled on the ground before him. 'There are much less painful ways to wake someone up you know, mate.'

'I am well aware of that, Sparrow,' muttered James, still fighting to regain his wind.

'So, how'd it go last night?' said Jack, leaning forward with an eager smile.

James managed to sit up, frowning slightly. 'Oh, not bad,' he replied. 'I met her son, we talked a bit over dinner, she mended my shirt…' James shrugged.

'And then?' Jack pressed.

James gave Jack a look of confusion before realizing what he meant and flushing scarlet. 'There was no "and then," Mr Sparrow, and I'm shocked you would even have the nerve to think there might be.'

Jack raised his eyebrow, still grinning. 'You never know, mate. One day you might be able to discard that stuffy naval comportment for a few hours and actually get out and have some fun.' He jumped to his feet. 'So, what's dear Lizzie come up with for an escape plan? Hopefully nothing that involves anyone being eaten by giant, tentacled sea beasties…'

James shook his head, a slightly sadistic smile beginning to form on his lips. 'No, but it does involve you dressing in my clothes. Elizabeth's got my jacket and waistcoat, she was busy mending them last I saw her, but – ' His smirk widened, judging from the look on the pirate's face that Jack was not going to be at all pleased with what he had to say next. ' – I'm afraid that your trousers look entirely out of place for a man wearing an admiral's jacket, so you'll have to wear my breeches and stockings and shoes.'

Jack stared in horror at James's stockings for a second, then glanced up at James. 'Surely you're joking, mate?' he said, attempting to grin at the exasperated expression on James's face.

'No, I'm not, Sparrow, and unless you want everyone to recognize you instantly for being a pirate, I think you'd better go along with this. Just be grateful I'll be spending the rest of my money on buying you a passage aboard a ship, and not a wig to go along with the rest of the outfit.'

Jack glared at James. 'Fine, and I suppose I'll have to give you my trousers, then, eh? Unless, of course, you'd prefer to go back to Lizzie's without them?' He leered. James rolled his eyes, feeling his face flush again.

'Don't be stupid. Go wash up, now – I'll leave my breeches here, shall I, and I'd appreciate it if you'd do the same with your trousers for me after you've changed.'

Jack grinned. 'Making me wash up – you really are trying to turn me into a gentleman, aren't you, Norrie?' Before James could snap at him again, Jack was already striding off in the direction of the creek.

Less than ten minutes later, an irritated Jack and an equally irritated James stood on Elizabeth's doorstep.

'I feel ridiculous beyond the realms of description,' grumbled Jack, eyeing the breeches and stockings now covering his legs with utter distaste.

'Well at least I bathe once in a while,' snapped James, trying not to wonder how long it had been since Jack had last bothered to wash his trousers. He did have to admit that Jack's trousers and worn boots were far more comfortable than his breeches and shoes had ever been, but his train of thought was quickly diverted as Elizabeth opened the door.

'Good morning,' she said in a low voice, trying not to snort with laughter at the face that Jack was still making at his new apparel as she stepped out of the cottage and closed the door. 'Jamie is still asleep, and I don't want to wake him up… Jack, couldn't you trim your beard a bit? You look far too… too… pirate-y.' She threw her hands up in exasperation.

'Wonder why that could be?' snorted Jack sarcastically. 'And no, I will not trim my beard a bit – I like it just the way it is, thank you.'

'You know, I don't see how you managed to impersonate a cleric of the Church of England in the first place,' grumbled James, 'you seem far too reluctant to do anything that would make you blend in.'

'I'll have you know that I can act perfectly respectable and boring in a pinch if I need to,' said Jack, highly affronted at James's comment, 'and I did so then because it was a matter of survival!'

'So what do you call this, then?' snapped James acidly before Elizabeth hushed him angrily and gestured pointedly towards the closed door.

Jack opened his mouth, found nothing to say, and closed it. 'Point taken, mate,' he sighed. 'Give me the scissors, I'll chop the beard down a bit.'

Half an hour later, Jack had succeeded in cutting his beard down to a respectable length, Elizabeth had succeeded with difficulty in convincing him to wash off the mascara and eyeliner, and all three had figured out a way to hide Jack's dreadlocks beneath his hat (which Elizabeth fussed over for quite a while before deciding that it would have to do, albeit not exactly like a proper admiral's hat). Finally, after throwing Jack's real jacket into a sack along with his sword and compass (his pistol Elizabeth decided would cause no suspicion aboard a ship), Jack and Elizabeth were ready to go off to the port to look for a ship heading towards Tortuga.

'Well Jack,' said James, holding out a hand, 'as I doubt we will ever see each other again, best of luck to you and your crew – steer clear of the Becketts of the world, don't get captured, and so forth.' To his extreme surprise, James realized that although Jack Sparrow had done nothing but aggravate him since the first day they had met, he was going to miss the cheeky pirate and his nonchalant manner.

'Mr Norrington,' replied Jack in a serious, haughty voice most unlike his own, 'I thank you for your kind wishes.' He shook James's hand solemnly. James stared at him in bewildered amazement until Jack finally cracked a toothy grin. 'Couldn't resist, mate,' he said in his usual jaunty voice, 'that look on your face was priceless.'

'Yes, well,' said James, recovering from his surprise, 'I certainly believe you can get away with impersonating an admiral or anyone else now.'

'Learned said persona from watching the best,' Jack said, gesturing towards James. 'Word of advice, mate,' he said in a low voice, 'keep in mind that even for an outstanding gentleman such as yourself, it is occasionally all right to allow yourself a bit of freedom. Don't do anything stupid that you might regret later.' James scowled, but Jack only grinned again and, with a final wink, he said, 'Remember… pirate!' Then, turning on his heel, he walked to Elizabeth and offered her his arm in a most gentleman-like manner, which she accepted with a laugh, and the pair set off down the road to the village, Jack walking in a rimrod-straight fashion quite different from his usual swagger.

James watched the two retreating figures for a moment, and then went inside the cottage, where he found that Elizabeth had left him a plate of bacon and eggs for breakfast. He had barely finished eating and washing his plate off when the door of Jamie's bedroom opened and the young boy appeared, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

'Good morning,' said James. Jamie, catching sight of him, stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at James respectfully.

'Good morning,' he answered softly. Glancing at James as though afraid he would be intruding, Jamie crossed to the table, slid onto the bench, and began nibbling at his breakfast.

James suddenly felt rather awkward. He really had never been terribly good with children, and the fact that Jamie looked so much like a young Will Turner only made the situation more awkward. He began to think about possible topics for conversation, but was saved the trouble by Jamie.

'Those aren't the clothes you were wearing last night,' he commented.

'Oh, no, they're not,' said James hesitantly, wondering how he would be able to explain this without having to explain the fact that Jack Sparrow existed. 'I… well, my jacket was, you see, making me feel rather warm, so I took it off.' James felt like smacking himself in the face – he was sounding like an absolute idiot, and he really did want Elizabeth's son to like him.

Jamie, however, did not seem to have noticed James's disjointed response. 'Is it really true you used to be an admiral?' he asked, trying to sound casual and failing.

James smiled inwardly – once upon a time, he remembered having had the same eagerness in his voice every time he met a naval officer. 'Yes, I was,' he said. 'And your mother tells me you're considering a similar career.'

Jamie nodded, blushing slightly. After a long moment of staring at his plate, he finally looked back up at James, who was waiting patiently for the boy to reply. 'D'you… d'you think you could teach me how to swordfight?' he asked quickly in an embarrassed voice. 'Mum started teaching me a long time ago, but she has so much work to do nowadays, and I really want to learn, I'd be good at it, I know…'

James laughed. 'I'd be glad to work with you a bit,' he said, again reminded of his own enthusiasm for fencing as a boy. 'Finish up your breakfast while I look for some sticks for us to use.'

Jamie's face shone with excitement. 'Thank you, Mr Norrington!' he said breathlessly before continuing to eat at a much accelerated rate.

'My pleasure,' answered James, stopping on the doorstep. 'And, please, just call me James.'

Elizabeth returned from the docks at half past noon to find James and Jamie fencing on the beach down below the house.

'All right, now if I lunge like this, you have to parry my sword… like that,' James instructed the young boy, standing by his side and demonstrating the parry in slow motion. He had securely wrapped the ends of two nearly-straight branches in cloth to avoid any injuries, recalling only too clearly the last time he had been impaled upon a piece of wood. Jamie imitated James, frowning slightly in concentration. 'Good, but watch out for feints – if I feint like so, and you make as if to parry, you'll leave yourself completely off-balance.'

'Watch your footwork,' advised Elizabeth, walking down the hill and onto the shore with a smile on her face. James stopped mid-parry and, excusing himself from Jamie's presence for a moment, went over to talk to Elizabeth.

'Well?' he asked in a low voice.

'Managed to get him a passage on a merchant ship. He kept up the admiral façade extremely well, surprisingly enough, although I did have to stop him from nicking a few purses while we were walking through town…' Elizabeth sighed slightly in a mixture of amusement and exasperation. 'Don't worry about Jack, he'll be able to work his way out of any scrapes if he needs to,' she added, seeing the concerned look on James's face. 'Now I have work to do, so you can go back to your fencing, and please, make sure neither of you lose an eye…'

James chuckled. 'You've become such a mother, Elizabeth. I promise you, no one will lose an eye – I don't think that either of us would look very good with a wooden one anyway…'

He retreated back to where Jamie was waiting as Elizabeth aimed a halfhearted kick at him.

'Sorry about that, now where were we…?'

'Are you my father?' asked Jamie quite abruptly. James gaped for a few seconds, then laughed.

'No, of course not – why would you think that?'

Jamie shrugged. 'The way Mum looks at you – it's the same look that's on her face every time she mentions my father.' James became aware that his heart was beating rather fast, and his stomach was beginning to flip-flop. 'Sometimes I see her staring out the window at the sea, sighing, and it's that same look on her face. Just thought I'd ask.' Jamie glanced up at James with a curious expression on his face. 'You don't know my father, do you?'

'I did, in fact,' said James quietly. 'I first met him when he was only a few years older than you are now.'

Jamie opened his mouth, closed it as if afraid to ask the question he wanted to ask, and finally whispered, 'Was he a pirate?'

James did not know how to respond, but then he saw the trepidation in the boy's eyes, and realized that Jamie was terrified that James would say yes. 'He was a blacksmith,' replied James somewhat stiffly, reasoning that it was not a lie. 'When I was promoted to commodore, he made for me one of the most beautiful swords I had ever seen, at your grandfather's request. That sword became one of my most prized possessions, and it served me well in many battles, including one time when I had to fight some bloodthirsty pirates who had kidnapped your mother. And your father too, come to think of it,' added James. His mind wandered briefly back to the look in Elizabeth's eyes as she agreed to marry him if he agreed to rescue Will from Barbossa and his crew.

'What happened to it?' whispered Jamie, awestruck. James pulled himself out of his memories and looked down in amusement at Jamie's eager face.

'I left it stuck in the chest of the most cruel and heartless pirate captain I have ever met, and I never got it back.' James was careful to leave out the fact that he had been the one who died during that encounter, and not the heartless pirate captain.

Jamie gave a soft sigh of longing. 'One day, I want to be just like you, James,' he confided, 'stopping all the piracy on the seas, protecting the interests and lives of the citizens of England living in the Caribbean, sailing to far off lands, gaining fame and honor…' His voice trailed off as Jamie became lost in his fantasies.

James smiled sadly, then knelt down so that his face was level with Jamie's.

'James William Turner,' he said in a soft but serious voice, 'I want to give you some advice, and I hope you'll listen. When I was your age, and indeed when I first became an officer, I felt exactly the same way that you do about serving in His Majesty's Navy, and I assure you, you have all the right principles down by heart. But I want you to remember this: the time may come when you must choose between what the law dictates, and what your conscience tells you is right. Remember that a pirate can be a good man, just as surely as a lord can be a lying scoundrel at heart.'

'But…' Jamie gave James a confused look. 'But pirates kill people, and sack towns, and…'

'I agree completely, they do,' said James hastily, 'and when they do you must do your best to stop them, as duty says you must. What I am trying to say is that you must learn to recognise good men from bad ones, and you cannot let a man's station in life or even your own sense of honor get in the way of doing what you know is right. Do you understand?'

'I-I think so,' said Jamie in a very uncertain manner.

James sighed. 'All right, Jamie, I'm going to tell you a story, but you have to promise me that you won't tell your mother I told you.' Jamie nodded in agreement, eyes wide. 'When pirates kidnapped your mother, and then your father, there was one pirate who joined with us to rescue them, because even though he was a pirate, he was a good man. Your parents then convinced me to let him go free, even though it was my duty to hang him for being a pirate. As a result, the man who was in charge of the East India Trading Company at the time declared that your parents and myself were pirates, just because we had shown mercy to the man who had saved your parents' lives. Keep in mind that this man was a lord, and a respected British citizen, yet he refused to see that this pirate was a good man who deserved to live, and he tried to destroy everyone who saw otherwise – your parents, myself, even your poor grandfather who never harmed a soul but was murdered because he refused to let a good man go to the gallows. That's why I am no longer an admiral, because I could not serve under a man who saw people only as what they were, not as who they were.'

Jamie looked at James for a long moment. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, 'I think I understand now. And I promise that even if I become an admiral, I'll judge everyone I meet based on who they are, and not by the colours they fly under.'

James grinned, and clapped Jamie on the shoulder as he rose to his feet. 'And a fine admiral I'm sure you'll make – now, let's work on those lunges, shall we?'