I'm not sure how it happened, but this chapter wound up being about Jack. Seriously, when I started it was meant to be much more about Will and his sunburn, but then I thought maybe Elizabeth had some friends over for dinner and… well…

…Give Jack a line and he gives himself a chapter. It went from there. Jack wasn't even supposed to be in this fic. Jack invited himself in, stuck his hand down my plot bunny's throat, and now he won't let go. Persistent little bugger, isn't he? I can't even write him that well and he insists on showing up.

He'll probably be back in the future. God help us all.

If anyone has any special requests for characters to appear, drop me a comment and I'll see what I can do. Just, um, keep it logical. No one who's dead, okay?

DISCLAIMER: (almost forgot this) I don't own POTC, and I'm not making any money off this!

…And Really Bad Eggs…

Adventure Five: William Turner Is Not a Lobster

"You look like a lobster," said Sparry flatly. From the pained expression on her face, Will could tell she was trying her best not to laugh. Until that moment, their adventure had gone perfectly well (minus the squabbles over who was captain, of course.) They had found their destination and searched out the old cave, claimed a small sack of Spanish coins, a map, and a telescope as their treasure, and sailed back to the town at the end of the day without a hitch. (Other than their squabble over who was captain, but Will had won that.)

Until, of course, they noticed that Will had sometime over the course of the day found himself a rather bright sunburn.

"Really, you do," said Sparry. She was beginning to laugh.

"Come on," replied Will gruffly. "Let's go to my house and divvy up our loot." He tied up their boat, earlier named the Mighty Guppy, handed the sack of coins to Sparry, and picked up the map and the telescope.

"We had a lucky find, didn't we?" she asked as they walked down the dock.

"A good haul," he agreed, trying to keep his mind off how much his face hurt. It worked, almost. He'd gotten quite good at forgetting it by the time they reached the Turner residence. Will fished a key out of one of his many pockets and opened the door. "Come on, let's go over it in the map room."

That was one of the things Sparry found fantastic about the Turner residence. At first glance, it could have belonged to any rich merchant. It wasn't until one reached the aptly named 'Map Room' that it became clear there was something special and exciting about the occupants of the house. Mixed in with the typical charts detailing ocean currents were maps to far off and mythical places and things way beyond the reaches of any map.

However, when they got to the map room, they found the table had been cleared so that Elizabeth and several of her past and current crewmates could play catch-up. Will held up a hand for Sparry to halt next to him in the doorway.

"Are those your children, Captain Turner?" one of the visitors asked with a certain hint of distaste.

"One of them is," answered Elizabeth with what seemed to be forced pleasantness.

"Is that a whelp or a lobster?" asked a dreadlocked pirate as he turned around. In an instant Will had shoved the map and the telescope into Sparry's already-full arms and made a dash for the man.

"Uncle Jack!"

"Whelp! Who's your friend?"

"That's Sparry. You've met her."

"That's Sparry? No, that's not Sparry. Sparry is seven years old and can't see over the top of the table."

Sparry would not have been surprised to find out that she turned the same color as Will, if only momentarily, when the man said that. She remembered Will's 'Uncle Jack,' or Captain Sparrow as he was properly called. She also remembered that on the one occasion she had been so lucky as to meet the mythical man, he had mistaken her for a boy and that she had run into the side of a table.

"That's Sparry," insisted Will.

"If that young lass is Sparry, I'll eat my hat."

"I'm afraid so," muttered Sparry, stepping forward to put the day's find on the table.

"Start chewing," said the tall, lean man across from him who Sparry seemed to recall as going by the name of Captain Hector. Then again, she could have been wrong seeing as her grand total number of encounters with almost everyone in the room had to only be around three or four, less in some cases. Jack scowled across the table and kicked a stool out for Will and Sparry to sit on. They climbed up and sat awkwardly, each sort of half-on half-off.

"From the looks of that haul," said Jack, motioning to the spilling sack of coins, the telescope, and the map, "I'd say you're taking after your father, whelp."

"He might be," said Elizabeth, who took the opportunity to clear away the empty mugs from the table. "Or after his mother."

"A refill, if you would," said Jack when she took his, "Your highness."

"No more rum for you, Captain Sparrow," she replied unphased. "You're lucky I let you have any to begin with."

"Aye, and I'm glad of that," he answered with a grin. "Where'd you two get off today where you found that? Nowhere too far, I hope. The sea's dangerous for two whelps."

"Just outside the bay," shrugged Will. Sparry gave him a glare but then decided that it wouldn't get them in trouble to have gone that far. "We had a dingy. A good one."

"Jack, you were going to eat your hat," said the tall pirate.

"I'll get to that," snapped Jack. Turning back to the two children, he continued, "So, you found it outside the bay. Was this before or after young William here turned into a crustacean?"

Will gave him a confused look. "A what?" he asked.

"A crustacean. A lobster," clarified Jack.

"It's a sunburn," grumbled Will, hopping up off the stool. "I'm not a lobster. I'm not turning into a lobster. I never was, and never will be a lobster. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," replied Sparry and Jack at the same time, though Sparry's statement contained considerably more repressed giggles. Will stomped out of the room. A moment later those present could hear him stomping up the stairs and then around in his bedroom on the next floor.

"I told him he looked like a lobster, too," said Sparry, reaching for the sack and the rest of their loot that Will had left on the table. "Hmm, I guess he doesn't want his share of our find." Hell knew she needed it more than he did, anyway.

"Take what you can," chuckled Jack.

"Give nothing back!" said a portly man with muttonchops from across the table. Laughing, Sparry slung the bag over her shoulder, tucked the map and telescope under her arm, and set off for home.