Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Pirates of the Caribbean, and I don't claim to.

Chapter Four
The HMS Albatross, Port Royal, Jamaica

Jack adjusted quickly to the life of a prisoner. Certainly, in the past he had never been a prisoner for long, but he figured that if he added up all the days he had spent locked up in some prison somewhere for some crime, he was rather experienced with the life of a criminal. He liked to think himself an expert.

His accommodations on the Albatross weren't all that bad, as brigs go. He was, of course, stuffed in amongst the rest of his crew, but that wasn't a wholly unpleasant experience, mostly thanks to the size of the Albatross's cells – they were far larger than the standard.

A marine appeared on the ladder that led to the gun deck above. One of their guards went to meet him, and they spoke together in quiet voices, glancing over at their prisoners. A key changed hands. The guard returned. "Sparrow?"

"Aye?" Jack stood and squeezed his way to the barred door.

"The vice-admiral has asked to speak with you." He turned the key in the lock.

"What an honor."

The marine grabbed him just before he walked out and pushed him against the bars as the guard closed the door. Jack noted with pleasure that they didn't put him in irons, just kept a very good grip on his arms and a rifle aimed behind his back. It was an improvement, really.

James was leaning leisurely back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, cup of tea in one hand, musty novel in the other. He waved the men away, and one of them gave Jack a sturdy shove into the room before closing the door. James didn't notice. He finished reading his page before closing the book and turning to Jack. "You may sit."

"May I? How kind of you."

"If the winds hold, we will reach Port Royal early this evening."

Jack perked up. Port Royal meant Elizabeth – and Will, too, of course. He hadn't seen them in more than a year; could it be two now? He grinned to himself, imagining their faces when they saw him again after so long. Will would be shocked, of course, but Elizabeth might actually give him a hug–

James watched him with suspicion. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just remembering the last treasure ship I captured," he said, eyes staring off into the far corners of his conscious. He added quickly, appeasingly, "Joke. Just a joke. Please don't kill me."

James rolled his eyes in exasperation and squared his jaw. "Anyway, I brought you up here to make sure you're aware of what I will be doing – so you don't do anything stupid that costs us both our lives."

Jack sat back with his sweetest I'm listening face on.

"We will be stopping in Port Royal for no more than a day or two, depending on how busy the admiral is. Now, your part in all of this is very simple: you are not to leave this ship, you are not to even show your face on deck. You will stay below, locked in the brig, for the duration of our stay in port. I know you, Jack." He glared at him significantly. "And I know that you're smart enough to follow my orders and not try to escape."

Jack held up his hand – his left hand. "I swear."

James stared him down. He continued levelly, "I will be going ashore to speak to the admiral, but I will not so much as even mention you in passing. To the admiral, to everyone, I haven't seen you in many, many years, ever since my foolish bout of pity when I let you go free. If he should find out that I have been lying to him–"

"I understand perfectly, former commodore, who is at present a vice-admiral."

"No, I don't believe you do." He stared at Jack a moment, really stared. And then he sighed and let his scowl drop and his weariness show. "Just go."

Jack paused before he opened the door. Through the clouded glass, he could see the outlines of two men standing guard. He turned back to James, who was now resting his head on a hand, eyes closed. When he didn't hear Jack walk out, James looked up.

"What?"

"Well–" Jack's eyes darted around the room; books were piled untidily on the floor, maps mounded on his desk, empty rum bottles lined the alcove beneath the windows, and guns and swords hung randomly about the walls. "It's not important." He slipped out.

---

Locked back in the brig and half asleep, Jack woke up to the sounds of activity above. He struggled through the mass of bodies to the door, pausing only long enough to place several crew members' hands in compromising places and chuckling to himself with glee.

"You, there." Jack pressed himself against the bar, reached his hands through. A marine – new, by the stiffness of his uniform – stood close by. He looked once over his shoulder, either checking to see if Jack was addressing him or hoping to find a senior officer at his shoulder who knew how to deal with pirates. "Yeah, you. Come here."

The guard approached him suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"Nothing! Nothing. I was just wondering what they're doing up there."

The boy looked at the low ceiling above. "Preparing to make port, I guess."

"Really?" Jack followed his gaze with an exaggerated sweep of his head. "That's just what I feared. You see, I need to speak to the commod– vice-admiral, and I need to speak to him before he leaves for Port Royal."

"I have orders not to let you out for any reason."

"You wouldn't be letting me out, per se. On the contrary! Because the com– vice-admiral told me explicitly that he wanted to see me before he went ashore. He's expecting me, you see. So you wouldn't be letting me out."

The marine's brows furrowed. His hand went to the pistol at his hip, a reflex, like a safety blanket. "Well, if he really did need to see you, then I guess I see nothing wrong in taking you to him. I'll need to get someone else though, to escort you–"

"No!" The boy pulled the pistol out of his belt as he turned around, surprised. Jack held up his hands. "No, that won't be necessary. In fact, that would be very bad if you did that. Because– because then you would be leaving a whole crew of pirates alone, without any supervision, and we all know what sorts of trouble they can get themselves into when they're all together in a large group like this."

His pistol lowered slightly.

"What harm could there be in letting one pirate out to go to a prearranged meeting? Right? I mean, I'm expected there, right? You people would know if I tried to escape, because Norrington's expecting me." Jack held his breath, smiling hopefully at the young boy.

He said hesitantly, "If you get me into trouble–"

"On my honor, I would never do such a thing to a fine lad such as yourself."

He had him. The boy took the key out of his coat and ducked out of sight for a moment, presumably checking to make sure the coast was clear – he wasn't entirely convinced of the safety of his plan.

Gibbs took that moment to whisper harshly to Jack, "Are you abandoning us, captain?"

Jack looked for the first time at his crew, cramped between the iron bars. Many of them had mutiny in their eyes. "Now, now, lads. It's not like that at all." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I just have some business to tend to in Port Royal–"

The parrot squawked, "Elizabeth!"

Jack shot the bird a glare.

His men looked at him with more intensity now. "And what will happen to us if you're caught?"

Jack was saved having to respond when the marine hurried back into sight. "I don't see anyone; they're probably all above, readying the ship for port. If you go out now, you should be safe." He unlocked the iron door.

"I promise you, my boy: you aren't disobeying anyone. There's no trouble in this for you." He turned back to his crew, glaring sullenly at him from behind the wide iron bars. "And I will see you lads again soon."

Lucky for Jack, the brig was on one of the lowest levels of the ship, which meant that he had more opportunities to hide. He would have felt guilty for lying to his crew like that, except that– well, he didn't feel very guilty. He would be back, and no harm would come to them.

The deck was nearly completely dark by the time he heard the call for the boats to be lowered. Jack slipped quietly onto the main deck and into one of the boats that was being prepared. He knew what he was doing was probably the sort of thing that Norrington would classify as "stupid," but he couldn't help it if Norrington hadn't been more specific.

Jack hid himself beneath a large tarpaulin that covered some small piles of supplies and other assorted lumpy things that generally made it harder for him to get comfortable. Something cracked beneath him, and he hoped for his own good that it wasn't a glass something.

The men climbed into a boat, thankfully avoiding him, and he felt the first jolt of the boat being unevenly lowered. Soon they were on their way. He could hear Norrington to one side, presumably speaking to one of his lieutenants.

When the boats tapped gently against the docks, the men climbed out in a hurried frenzy. Jack pulled himself out with them, all the while thanking that it was so dark and that these marines didn't seem to notice the extra head amongst them. He hung back while the party walked briskly down the dark, candle-lit streets, toward the naval headquarters in Port Royal.

Jack had never been very familiar with Port Royal – after all, his stays there had been less than leisurely. But he knew it well enough to know that he should just follow a large street up the hill, and that it would eventually lead him to the Governor's mansion.

With one quick look back at the HMS Albatross, visible only by a few small lights set out to warn off other ships, Jack set off up the street. Those few people who were out so late all watched him openly.

Just as he had hoped, he arrived at the iron gate to the mansion. He stood with his face resting between two of the cool bars and stared up at the enormous building that sat majestically at the crest of the small hill, surrounded by palm trees and other foliage.

It was a simple enough job of picking the lock – it took him no more than three minutes – but gaining entrance to the house would be another matter entirely. He wasn't even certain that the Turners were still living with the good Governor. Jack tried to make himself look presentable – straightened out his coat and hat, tried desperately to do something to tame his hair, pulled together the neck of his shirt, and buttoned his fly. His boots clicked loudly on the stone of the drive.

The entrance was lit only by a single sputtering lantern, secured to the wall at eye level.

He could break in, of course. In fact, that might be the smarter thing to do. More direct. But then if he did break in and one of the servants found him, he would be chased out before he had a chance to explain himself. He had no idea where he should go to find Elizabeth and Will's room, anyway, so he would have to just wander around the halls. That would be dangerous, imprudent. But, then again, what good would it do just knocking on the door in the middle of the night?

Jack took a deep breath to steady his nerves, which were strangely anxious. Captain Jack Sparrow was never anxious.

He knocked on the door, three times, hard. And he listened. No sound. He tried again. The third time, he saw a sliver of light beneath the door: a candle.

A man on the other side of the door said, "Who's there?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Er. A friend."

The door opened just slightly, and almost by instinct, Jack stuck his foot in the small gap, holding it open. One eye, faintly lit by the candle, stared out at him. "What do you want?"

"Actually, I've come to see the Turners. They live here still, I hope?"

The man tried to close the door, and his eyes widened when it wouldn't shut any farther. "Get away from here, you!"

Jack squeezed half of his body through the crack and pushed against the man, all the while saying calmly, "Here now, let me in, will you? Go up and ask them if they'll see me. I'll leave if they don't want to." In his mind, he silently added, Maybe.

The man – a footman by the looks of his sleepwear – reached to the side.

But Jack was too quick for him. He cocked his pistol and pressed its barrel against the man's forehead before he had time to swing the cane against Jack's head. "Now, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this." He pressed the gun harder into the man's head; he backed up into the entryway. Jack shut the door quietly behind him. "Go up and ask if Elizabeth and Will will see me. I assume they're still here? Otherwise, I'm sure you would have told me right off that they weren't, saved yourself the trouble." Jack took pressure off the trigger. He waved the man toward the stairs. "Go on."

The footman scrambled up the stairs, falling once and tripping over the edge of his long nightshirt at least three times. Jack watched him in amusement, then turned his attention to the rest of the room when he disappeared down the hallway.

He had never been in Elizabeth's mansion. It appeared rather nice, with gold leafing everywhere and lots of expensive-looking metal objects that lined the low tables.

He picked up an ornate candelabra and was admiring its craftsmanship, when he heard a shout from the top of the staircase.

"Jack!" Elizabeth stood at the top of the landing, gripping the railing. She was in her nightgown. "Jack, what are you doing here?"

Will appeared behind her. "Yes, Jack. I think that's something we'd all like to know." Elizabeth shot him a reprimanding glare.

"So cold, William," Jack said, grin on his face. He took off his hat and bowed. "So cold, especially since we haven't seen one another in so long."

Author's Notes: I have most of the rest of the story plotted out, so I have a good idea of where I'm going with this. I hope you enjoyed that chapter! Please keep reading and review!