Jack was getting used to him. He wasn't as stand-offish as he had been. He was starting to speak to him outside of telling him to do something. He was starting to joke with him, treat him the same as he treated Anamaria and Gibbs. He was starting to look at him and smile.

Will was making progress.

There was only one problem. People were beginning to assume. Will couldn't really blame them. It seemed more than obvious. Will had disappeared into the Captain's cabin, only re-emerging once the sun was high in the sky. At least they'd stopped the eunuch jokes. It was Jack, after all, who was going about rubbing his bum. Sleeping in a chair was not good for the posterior.

Will groaned as yet another member of the crew offered him yet another

'congratulatory' slap on the ass.

"I swear, if I get smacked one more time, I'm going to…" He whirled about to tear a strip off his latest harasser, only to find himself staring into the glittering brown eyes of a certain cheeky pirate captain.

"Do tell, Will." Jack grinned in a style startlingly familiar to that with which he often looked at Elizabeth.

Will flushed, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Jack had touched him, for the first time since loosing his memory. Jack was looking at him with those beautiful, dark eyes, in the same way he had back at the beach, back when this whole mess got started.

Jack had called him by his name.

"The crew appears to think that we are involved, cabin boy. Now I wonder what gave them that impression?" Jack laughed, apparently taking great amusement from the agony clearly written upon Will's face.

"Uh…" Will felt his face light up like a rum bonfire. "Captain, I… Uh…"

What was he supposed to say, when Jack was looking at him like that? When he was so very familiar, and yet Will knew he was entirely different from before? How was he supposed to be able to respond when he knew he would never be able to let himself have was Jack was apparently dangling in front of his face?

"Bah." Jack waved a hand, as if to dismiss Will's confused mutterings entirely. "Enough with all this 'Captain' nonsense. As if I need to be reminded that this is my ship." Jack smiled, the kohl-stained lids of his eyes drooping down over his dark eyes in an entirely too suggestive manner. "Besides, if everyone thinks we're lovers, we might as act it, eh mate? Jus' call me Jack."

Jack's slender fingers reached out and tweaked his nose. The pirate laughed again, highly amused, and walked off, his characteristic saunter temporarily returned to his step.

Will grabbed tight to the railing, struggling to prevent his knees from buckling beneath him.

He wanted Jack. He wanted him, deep down in the pit of his stomach, from the same place as all his twisted, screwed up dreams. He thought about what the crew thought they had done, and he wished it had been true.

But for as much as he wished, as much as he wanted, he could never have the Captain Jack he so desired. The Captain Jack he loved was as good as dead. 'Jus' Call me Jack' had taken his place, and that wasn't the Jack he loved at all.

He would have to settle for the previously unspeakable acts he wanted.

But the thing was, he wanted all the wrong things.

Will put his head in his hands and began to cry.

"Was that really necessary, Cap'n?" Anamaria watched Will break into tears, totally ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the rest of the crew. "Don't ye think yer bein' a li'l hard on 'im?"

Jack snorted.

"He's a grown man. He can take care of himself. This is what he gets for thinking he can seduce me. If he wanted a good poke, he could have just asked. He's certainly cute enough to warrant my attentions." He smiled, letting his dark eyes sweep over the young man's body.

Anamaria sighed.

"Are ye really that oblivious, or are ye jus' pretendin?"

Jack blinked, frowning deeply. He looked at her, obviously confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Do ye really think that a right proper catholic boy like Will Turner's gonna risk his self eternal damnation fer a good poke? It's a sin ta them, ye know." Anamaria fixed her own dark eyes upon her captain's in an attempt to force the knowledge into his head through sheer force of will.

"What, you think he has… Feelings for me?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Well, of course 'e does, ye big dolt!" Anamaria smacked him up side the head, more out of relief than anger.

It was really quite surprising how little Jack picked up on. She'd been trying to help Will out for over a week, using a subtle blend of psychology and extreme violence to bring the young man to her captain's attentions. The biggest problem, believe it or not, seemed to be Jack's own self esteem. It had taken her the longest time to convince him that Will was, in fact, staring at him and not her. Whatever had happened between them the night before had apparently convinced him that he really was the object of Will's attentions. Now, all that remained was to convince him that the feelings Will held for him were more than simple lust.

Jack laughed.

"Will might be catholic. Hell, I'm catholic. That doesn't mean that we give a damn about our immortal souls. All the fun people go to hell anyways, so what's the point in even trying?" Jack gave her one of his trademark grins, the dazzle of his gold-toothed smile drowning out the hurt hiding in his dark eyes.

"Cap'n, don't ruin this." Anamaria took hold of his shoulders. "Will's not like you!"

Jack froze. It seemed as if ever muscle in his body stiffened, as if it suddenly required conscious effort to control himself. Is if, any moment now, that control would snap and Anamaria would be as good as dead.

"You're right, Anamaria. He's not like me. He's not like me at all."

Without another word, Jack pulled free and walked away.

This is sort of like the Cotton-in-a-dress moment. I don't really know why it happened. It just sorta did. The image of Jack smacking Will on the bum was just to cute to pass up.