Sorry to keep you all waiting! I've actually had this written out for the last... Month. But I've been about as busy as the last male bunny on earth would be. Which is really, really busy. So, here you are. Chapter 6. I actually have the plot all worked out now. I just need to write it all. Please be patient. Reviews help. Reviews help a lot. Domo Arigato, and enjoy.

"God damn it, Anamaria!" Jack shouted, gesturing widely and knocking a bottle of his desk. "You know me better than that!"

"Aye, I do." Anamaria glared at him, arms folded across her slender chest. "That's why I let ye do it."

"That's no excu-" Jack stopped mid-sentence, apparently just realizing what she'd said. "You… You LET me do it?"

"Aye." Anamaria looked him right in the eye, not budging, not even under that piercing, unbelieving stare. "If there's one thing I learned about ye in all these years, it's that ye take yer solace in yer vices. If I had stopped you, you would still be drunk out o' your wits."

"As opposed to wishing I were drunk out of my wits?" he grumbled, flopping down on the edge of his bed.

"Aye." She quietly walked over and joined him, making sure to sit a respectable distance away.

"But… surely being a drunk is preferable to being a… a…" He shook his head, attempting to run his hand through his hair.

"Well… now ye're not either." Anamaria sighed.

"What?" Jack blinked his large black eyes, confused.

"Now ye've ceased to be a drunk, at least for the time bein', and ye've never been one to attack the unwillin' at least to my knowin'."

"You… he… it… I?" Jack blinked, his slender eyebrows arching up to new heights, even to his wide range of expression. "It wasn't… I didn't…?"

"No." Anamaria sighed again, putting her hand on his shoulder. To tell the truth, it was more to restrict his reaction than to offer comfort. "I paid 'im to take you aside. I don' know what the li'l runt hoped to achieve, tryin' to make ye feel all guilty. T'was a stupid move t' make. Next time I see that whore, I'm gonna give 'im a good lashin'."

Jack stared at her, his expression a tremulous mix of anger, shock and more than a little confusion. He opened his mouth and closed it again, doing a fair imitation of a goldfish. He finally turned away, pressing one of his surprisingly delicate fingers to his lips.

"So I'm guessing the hat was your idea?"

Anamaria just grinned.

"It was the hat that did it, you know. It's always the hat." Jack shook his head, placing his hand upon the top of his matted hand as if absently looking for his own chapeau. "Will had great taste in hats."

Anamaria couldn't help but laugh. Despite his earlier anger, she was sincerely relieved. Jack had finally said the blacksmith's name, after more than six months of 'he's and 'him's. He was making progress. Slowly but surely, he was working his way back to the pirate they all knew and loved. A little more help, a few nudges in the right direction, a few more nights with the myriad whores of Tortuga, and he'd be all right.

Somehow, Jack always was.

Mwahahaha. Don't ask. I think that I shall go draw something for this now. Probably the hat. The one Jack mentions. It's cool. With a feather. A macaw feather.

On to Chapter 7!