Alright, mates. This is the first ending of my story. After this chapter, my next one will be separate, a different ending. This is a happy ending, the next one is a sad ending. Enjoy!

Chapter XIX (Ending A)

Back to the Sea

Bree never returned to the Bloodsail.

Sitting in the Faithful Bride inn and tavern, working away at her second bottle of strong rum, Bree was suddenly assailed by a pair of hands covering her eyes. A hiss of restrained laughter blew onto the back of her neck as a roguish voice spoke, "Guess who!"

Bree knew that voice anywhere. Without hesitation she cried out joyously, "Jack Sparrow!"

The hands drew away from her eyes and she turned to see her old friend. Giving out a delighted shout, Bree threw herself into his arms, pounding his back and crying, "Ah, mate, ye're alive! An' ye're a sight for sore eyes!"

Jack hugged her tightly, answering back, "Aye, beauty, 'tis good to see ye again. Wasn't too hard to track ye down." He drew away and held her at arm's length, looking her over approvingly, "First mate aboard the Bloodsail? I expected ye to be captain by now."

Bree laughed, "Aye, well, I suppose ye just want me to get back at ol' Barbossa for ye, aye?" Jack made a face, but brightened again. He stepped away and Bree was seized in a vice-like grip. The breath whooshed from her lungs and she swiveled around to see who was crushing her ribs.

"Pintel! Ragetti!"

The two pirates were hugging the young girl at the same time, latching on like limpets. Bree's face was turning purple, but her eyes were shining with joy. Gibbs, always the sensible man, pulled the two pirates away from the girl, reprimanding them, "C'mon, ye dogs, ye'll snap 'er spine!" He said this in a harsh voice, but his eyes were shining with mirth.

Bree, after she had gotten her wind back, embraced Gibbs, and then in turn embraced all her old mates. How good it was to see them again!

Bree looked back to Jack and asked, "Are Will an' Elizabeth with ye, mate?"

Jack shook his head, and spoke, "No, mate, 'fraid not. But I've talked to 'em lately. They're married now! An' Liz had twins!"

Bree clapped her hands like a delighted young one, happiness for her friends reflected in her eyes, "My best wishes to 'em!"

Jack smiled, "Well, they're still thinkin' of ye. I heard that they named the girl Bree an' the boy Jack."

Bree clasped Jack's hand in her own, "Maybe we should both see the children an' show 'em their namesake!"

Jack laughed, throwing his arm around Bree's shoulders.

The remainder of the night was spent in the quieter corner of the tavern, the crew of the Black Pearl gathered around Bree as she told tales of her adventures as first mate aboard the Bloodmast. Jack and the others laughed when Bree began mimicking the antics of Jack the monkey, who had accompanied the crew of the Bloodmast on all of their voyages. They enjoyed listening to her tell of bloody battles, bragging in the typical pirate fashion of how many men she slew. She was a good story teller, her low voice a nice thing to listen to. Even if her vocabulary wasn't as expansive as Barbossa's or Jack's, she was descriptive and brought her listeners straight into the story.

Jack watched Bree, enjoying her voice and her gestures as she acted out her stories. She was a wonderful girl. Almost a pity that she hadn't been raised a lady. She would've made a lovely wife for a lucky young man. But then again, that wasn't Bree. She was wild and independent, fierce and tough, a true pirate. And she seemed happy to be alone.

Seemed was the main word, here.

Jack was a perceptive man, clever and cunning. He watched Bree's eyes. They were animated and engaged, fiery with happiness at being with her friends and old shipmates again. But something was clouding them. A sense of loss was evident to him. She wasn't completely happy.

Something was missing.

Bree sat back, giggling to herself. The entire crew was drunk. Not a surprise. One couldn't help but drink all the rum you could hold when at Tortuga. Bree herself hadn't drunk much. She loved rum as much as any pirate, but she liked to keep her wits sharp most of the time.

Bree watched as the crew of the Black Pearl filed away one by one to find a place to bed down for the night. Marty stumbled and tripped over the paws of a dog that had seemingly appeared. Bree grinned, helping the short crewmember up. She looked down at the dog, bending down and ruffling its ears. It licked her hands, making a soft growling sound of pleasure as she scratched harder.

Jack, who surprisingly hadn't gotten as drunk as the others, bent down beside Bree, "Cute fellow, ain't he?"

Bree nodded, rubbing the dog's belly as he rolled over, giving out a happy sigh. She looked up at Jack, "Did he come with ye?"

Jack nodded, "Aye, mate. Poochy's a fine mutt. Came all the way from Port Royal, so 'e did." He turned the dog's ears inside out and then tweaked Bree's ear, "C'mon, beauty, I've got somethin' to discuss with ye."

Bree and Jack had gone for a short stroll outside of Tortuga. Jack pointedly took his time. Bree realized that they were headed for the small cliff where she had thrown her medallion out to sea so long ago.

The two pirates sat at the edge of the cliff, looking out over the horizon. The moon hung like a pale gold coin in the sky, the deeper night falling like dark velvet as the last traces of pink disappeared.

Jack cleared his throat, "Bree, it does me heart good to see ye again."

Bree grinned at him, "An' it does me good to see ye as well, mate." She put her arms around him in a soft hug. Jack chuckled, squeezing her, only to have her squeeze him so hard he was sure his ribcage had constricted.

Jack thought back four years earlier. When he had first met Bree, he had considered her a potential partner, if only a temporary one. Jack had been with many women before. He had even thought, only for a short moment, that he had been in love with Elizabeth. But he examined this and realized that the feelings were not true. Then Jack had met Bree. Jack remembered the kiss he had shared with the girl. It had been a strange impulse. Perhaps the thought that he would never see her again spurred him on to see what sort of emotions she would stir in him. And that kiss had convinced him of one thing.

Something about Bree was different. She was his mate. His friend. A fellow pirate. She could outfight most men and was as tough as they came. But she was kind hearted, jovial and welcoming. She was his friend. And that was how far his love reached. And by the look he had seen in her eyes, Jack had already guessed.

Bree was already in love.

Brushing hair from Bree's face, Jack spoke, "Bree…o'er the last four years…I've been keepin' watch for any signs o' Jones' heart." He felt her tense when he said this.

"Aye, I never got around to tellin' ye. We never found it. Yet we haven't been seein' any signs o' Beckett usin' it. My guess is he's had trouble contactin' Norrington."

Jack now had to speak slowly. He had a feeling that Bree's reaction to his news would be rash and overly excited, "Bree…mate, I've heard that Norrington has set up his headquarters on Isla Cruces. He has the heart, an'…"

Jack's assumption was correct. Bree leaped up, almost overbalancing over the cliff. She shouted out, "Isla Cruces! Where's that!"

Jack grabbed onto Bree's waist, balancing her. He breathed out slowly, "'Sblood, mate, ye frightened me! Now settle down."

Bree sat back down, quivering with excitement, "Jack…can ye tell me where Isla Cruces is?"

Jack stroked Bree's back, trying to calm her down as he answered, "I'm afraid I don't know where it is. I've been there, but I don't know how to get there. But…I know someone who does."

Bree turned to him, eyes eager, "Who? I'll go ask them!"

Jack winced, knowing this would cause trouble for both him and Bree.

"Tia Dalma knows where it is."

Bree tensed. But she rose, nodding resolutely, "Aye, then I'll go ask her!"

Jack stood up beside Bree, admiring her determination, "An' I'll go with ye, or at least take ye to Tia."

Bree clasped Jack's hand in her own, smiling, "I accept, mate."

Bree hadn't forgotten how wonderful it was to sail on the Black Pearl. The smoothness and the absolute peace was refreshing. And working alongside all her old mates was just as wonderful.

It wasn't long before they came in sight of the wide river that fed from the sea. Bree watched as one of the ship's boats was lowered into the water. She stepped up, adjusting her sword hilt, "I'll go alone."

Jack glanced at her, his eyes concerned, "No offense, beauty, but Tia Dalma would eat ye whole."

Bree was fingering something as she answered gravely, "No, I don't think she will."

Bree bent over, tying the tether to a post on the small deck of Tia Dalma's shack. She then stepped out, touching her sword hilt to comfort herself. She climbed up the ladder, pausing before the door. She took a deep breath, her heart beating hard. She gathered up her nerve and swallowed a few times. She was ready.

Bree opened the door slowly, peeking in cautiously. There was Tia Dalma, bent over in a corner, filling a jar with some sort of grisly substance. Bree cleared her throat to announce herself.

Without straightening, Tia Dalma spoke in a level voice, "I knew dat ya would be comin' by dis way, liddle snake."

Bree bristled, his lips rising in a snarl. Tia Dalma was insulting her!

Stepping forward, Bree fingered the hilt of her broadsword, fighting to keep back the urge to mouth back. She spoke in a strained voice, "I've come to ask for yer help."

Tia Dalma rose from her hunched position and turned to face the girl. Her dark eyes were hard. Bree noticed a dagger hanging from a girdle around her waist. Obviously the woman thought a fight would ensue.

To suggest otherwise, Bree unbuckled her sword belt, laying it across the table. She spoke, "I ain't here to fight. I give ye me word that I'll not harm ye."

Tia Dalma picked up the sword, disappearing behind a beaded curtain in the back of the shack. She reappeared, without the sword. Bree grimaced. Would she ever get that weapon back?

The witchdoctor sat down, motioning for Bree to do the same. Bree sat down, but immediately sat up again as something draped about her shoulders. She turned her head to the side to see the face of a large, yellow boa hovering near hers, flicking its tongue in and out at her.

Bree realized that Tia Dalma was trying to frighten her off. But Bree wasn't afraid of any snakes. She forced her hackles to lower and sat down softly, not making any sudden movements. The snake slithered into a loop about her neck, and Tia Dalma looked hard at the young girl. There was no fear in those blue depths.

Bree reached up a hand and stroked the snake's scales, remarking coolly, "I've always liked snakes. As ye've called me a 'little snake', I'll have a chat with me brother here."

Bree saw a flash of something, be it admiration or scorn, light Tia's eyes only for an instant. Then they returned to that lusterless color of deep black.

Bree got straight to the point, not wanting to waste time. "I've gotten word about the whereabouts o' Davy Jones' heart."

Tia stiffened, and her eyes flashed, "An' what d'ya want ta do wid dat? I don't tink ya will want ta stab him heart, aye?"

Bree shook her head, and the snake suddenly squeezed tighter around her throat. Bree, trying to stay calm, gently pressed a finger in between her skin and the snake, loosening the loop. She then spoke, "I'm goin' to return it."

Tia crossed her arms across her chest, sneering, "Dis would be no good. Wid him heart he can remember."

Bree stood, anger in her eyes, "He can remember now! He doesn't have to put the heart back in if 'e doesn't want to! But…I ain't gonna sit by while someone uses the heart to hurt me friends!"

Tia shrank back, intimidated by the intensity of Bree's stare. The snake slithered from Bree's neck, moving across the floor to disappear.

Bree reached into her jerkin, pulling out the music box. She scooted it across the table to Tia, "It don't work no more, but I'll trade it for the information."

Tia picked up the box, examining it. She waved her hand over it, and it suddenly began to play. Bree's mouth hung open.

Tia looked up, her eyes hard, "I don't like ya, liddle snake. But I know ya frien's wid Lizbeth Swann, William Turna an' Jack Sparrow. For dem I'll tell ya. Den ya will never set foot in 'ere agin."

Bree smiled triumphantly, "Aye."

Jack looked down, hauling Bree aboard. He could tell by the look on her face that she had gotten what she wanted.

Shaking water from her tunic, Bree smiled, pulling a scrap of paper from her jerkin and handing it to Jack, who promptly took it to his cabin. And the Pearl sped with the wind like some sort of beautiful black bird.

James Norrington blinked several times, warding off the heavy fog of fatigue. He hadn't slept in a while. There was so much to do. He stifled a yawn and went into his office, looking out the window into the dark night.

Sitting down, Norrington picked up a bundle of letters he was preparing to read. He pulled one of his candles closer to him so as to see the writing better.

A soft puff of air sounded near Norrington's ear, and the candle flame danced and then was extinguished. Norrington tensed, knowing he wasn't alone.

Norrington felt cold steel press the back of his neck. Without moving or showing any sign of alarm, he spoke in a level voice, "I won't try anything, if that's what you're thinking."

A rough voice growled out, "Ye'd best not, scum. I'm not leavin' this place until I get what I came for, an' I'll gladly kill ye if ye try to stop me."

Norrington felt the tangy taste of fear in the back of his throat, but he remained calm and stoic, "And what did you come for?"

The voice snarled out, "Ye stole somethin' from a friend o' mine. It was very dear to 'im. So dear that 'e buried it on this island so none would ever disturb it. An' it should 'ave remained that way. But necessity drove others to remove it. But ye stole it, an' are now the pawn of an evil man…an evil man who wants to harm others for power!"

Norrington knew that the intruder was referring to the heart of Davy Jones. He kept it locked away, never trusting anyone with it. He now spoke in a deceptively friendly voice, "Come around so I can see you, and we'll negotiate. I hope you don't think me daft enough to simply give it to you."

The blade pressed against Norrington's neck harder, actually pricking him. Now the voice hissed close to Norrington's right ear, "Ye're daft enough to steal the heart o' Davy Jones!"

Norrington tried to hide the quaver in his voice, "Jack Sparrow sent you?"

The blade never left Norrington's neck as the voice answered, "No. I came of my own accord. I'm here to right a wrong done to someone very dear to me."

Norrington's hand began inching toward the sword concealed under his desk. The blade snapped forward, slapping hard on his hand as the voice growled out, "Don't think I can't see ye! I moved the sword. I ain't as daft as ye think! Now, give me the heart!"

Norrington heard the snarl in the voice, knowing that this intruder meant business. He guessed the thief wasn't afraid to kill if necessary. He could sense anger and hatred radiating from the figure behind him.

Rising from his place, Norrington spoke, "If you kill me, you won't know where the heart is. You would gain nothing by taking my life."

The thief growled, and Norrington caught sight of bared teeth flashing close to his right side, but he didn't dare turn his head with the blade pressed to his neck. The voice spoke again, "Don't think I wouldn't look! I'm givin' ye a chance to give it to me an' keep yer life! Either way, I'll have what I came for! I'm strong enough to break through any lock ye have on yer goods!"

Norrington had no choice. He somehow didn't doubt these words. He nodded, "I'll give it to you."

The blade was removed from his neck and soon prodded him in the back, "Move!"

The man walked forward slowly, the blade still pressed to him. He went calmly to the concealed chest behind the wall hanging. Taking the chest out of the small hole, he held it out and said, "Come around to my front and get the chest."

The voice gritted out in his ear, "Go an' set it on that table."

Norrington obeyed, his mind working vigorously. He set the chest down, and said, "I suppose you want the key now, correct?"

The voice spoke again, "Wrong."

The blade was removed from Norrington's back, and he saw a slight movement on his left. The figure circled around him, blade outstretched. Norrington noted with some slight admiration that the thief had strategically chosen the most shadowed area to do this.

The sword now stood between Norrington and the thief. If he tried anything, he knew he would be skewered. He watched as the figure raised a hand, and suddenly brought it slamming down. Norrington heard a clang, like metal upon metal. He then saw the chest open, and the thief reached in and withdrew the heart.

Norrington decided to act now. Only one thing to do, even if it was a desperate chance.

Reaching back the moment the figure was putting the heart away in a pouch, Norrington grabbed a ledger from his desk and brought it swinging forward.

The thief wasn't taken by surprise. Norrington found himself grabbed in a vice like grip and lifted bodily. With immense strength, the intruder flung Norrington forward. Falling awkwardly, Norrington lay stunned. But he recovered swiftly, and by pure chance felt out and felt his sword handle. He grasped it firmly and drew it, lunging forward and stabbing outwards. He felt the tremor run through his hand as his opponent's blade met his. He had never fought against one armed with a broadsword before. It would be difficult.

Circling around, Norrington watched for chances to attack. His opponent had the advantage of the shadows. He could see twin blue flames glaring out at him from the darkness.

Somehow Norrington realized that this was an enemy he couldn't defeat. He gave out a call, "Marines!"

The thief snarled in frustration, jumping forward and swinging out at Norrington, catching him on the side. He sucked in his breath as the hefty blade grazed him. But he parried another thrust, feeling his arm tingling. Whoever this fighter was, they had great strength!

Norrington fought his way over to the table in the corner where a lone candle flickered. Grabbing the candle in one hand, he held it out to survey his adversary. He was surprised.

A young girl was coming at him, her blue eyes blazing like angry stars, misting over red. She looked strong and fit, a real fighter, tough and capable. She was baring long, vicious fangs at him and her face was distorted in a snarl of hatred. She swung out with her broadsword, but Norrington parried.

Five marines came into the room, bayonets fixed and ready. In the dim candlelight, they could see the young pirate fighting Norrington. They rushed forward, but the girl leaped back, ready for them. She swung onto the desk, knocking over pens and ink bottles. She kicked one marine hard in the chin as he rushed forward, and then she dropped, stabbing out and catching the next marine straight through the face, slaying him instantly.

Leaping down, the girl threw a punch that the most skilled boxer couldn't equal, cracking the jaw of the third marine. She then dropped her sword, grabbing the fourth and lifting him bodily, madness of battle in her eyes. She flung him forward, and he crashed into the fifth marine, and both were knocked senseless.

Norrington was no coward, but faced with such wrath, anyone would be afraid. The girl came at him, hatred in her eyes. She had him backed into a corner, her naked sword gleaming and her teeth bared. Then, suddenly, she leaped straight up, pushing herself into a somersault and crashing through the window. Norrington ducked and covered his head as shards of glass rained down on him. After the glass stopped falling, he looked up, to see the figure of the thief disappear into the darkness. And the heart with her.

Bree knelt on the sandy beach, the tide lapping around her knees. Bree was weeping softly, the heart held tight in her hands. Blood dripped down the girl's arms as she wept with pure joy. At last, she could return the heart to its rightful owner.

And give her own heart along with it.

Jack was pacing the deck anxiously, awaiting Bree's return. What if she had been captured? Or worse, killed?

Gibbs sighed in exasperation, "Jack, she'll be fine! She's tough enough to handle the former commodore."

Jack, without looking to Gibbs, corrected him, "Former former commodore." Then he resumed his pacing.

Jack nearly jumped out of his hat when Bree wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him in a bear hug. Jack was positive he heard a crack, but turned around, hugging Bree back, "Ach, there ye are, luv! Were ye successful?"

Bree held the heart in her hand, beaming, "Aye! Take a lookit this beauty!"

Jack smiled, "Aye, lovely. Well, now what's to do?"

Bree never hesitated, "Ye take me to the Dutchman!"

The smile vanished as Jack protested, "Now, mate, I don't want a run-in with Jones!"

Gibbs, sensing a coming argument, wisely ducked away.

Bree pouted, "Oh, come now, Jack. Ye don't even have to talk to 'im! In fact, just take me to the Dutchman an' I'll take the ship's boat!"

Jack crossed his arms, "How d'ye expect to find the Dutchman?"

Bree held out her hand, "Give me yer compass."

Jack sighed, obeying. Bree flipped it open, and almost immediately she spoke, "We have our heading."

Jack was then certain. Bree knew exactly what she wanted!

Clanker took a swig of his grog, feeling it ward off some of the chill. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, sighing heavily. He scanned the dreary horizon, his single eye piercing the darkness.

Then he saw the boat. Clanker peered closer. His eyesight was good. There was only one figure in the boat. Not a very big one, either. But it was rowing strongly.

Clanker signaled to Maccus, who came to join him. He whispered in his ear and pointed. Maccus followed Clanker's finger and saw the boat.

Maccus spoke a few whispered words to Clanker as the boat neared. Finally, it drifted alongside the Dutchman. The cloaked figure shipped its oars, rising and latching onto the side of the ship.

Maccus stood forward as the figure climbed up the side, face shadowed by the hooded cloak. He growled menacingly, "Who be ye, mortal scum?"

Two eyes like blue flames pierced the shadow of the hood to land on Maccus. A familiar voice grated out, "Doesn't matter. I want to see Jones."

Maccus made a half laugh half growling noise as he answered, "I'll wager ye do."

Maccus' breath was cut short as a claw shot out and gripped him around the neck. The grip of the fingers was so hard it drew blood. The figure growled, "And I will."

Jones hadn't been alerted of the sighting of the boat. He slept on in his cabin, snoring softly and letting his dreams go free. He had still been haunted with dreams like this over the last four years. But he had to push them to the back of his mind every time he was brought back to the cold, hard reality of his half-life.

Jones came awake as he heard his cabin door open. Still a bit groggy, Jones raised his head, ready to call out a threat to whoever was trespassing.

"Captain!"

Jones froze. That voice.

No. No, it couldn't be. He must still be dreaming.

Hardly daring to believe it, Jones turned slowly, letting his eyes fall on the figure in the doorway. The trespasser threw back the hood, letting a soft beam of dim light illuminate the face.

Jones felt his words catch in his throat. It took him a while to get that one, sweet word out.

"Bree…"

A beautiful smile lit the girl's face. Jones tried to say more, but the only result was strange broken sounds that tried to form into words. Bree solved it for him. She walked forward until she stood in front of Jones. She knelt, as though she were a humble vassal. Jones could only speak in a whisper.

"Ye came back…"

Bree bowed her head, and Jones could see soft tears sliding down her cheeks. She raised her head, her eyes shining clear. She composed herself and spoke, "I…I have something that ye might want."

Standing, Bree reached into her cloak. She pulled something out of the folds. It looked like a bundle of cloth, stained with something wet. She held it out to Jones, bowing her head respectfully.

Jones took the object, unwrapping it. His mouth went dry. It was the heart.

The captain of the Flying Dutchman looked to Bree, unsure, "Where did ye get this?"

Bree answered obediently, "I stole it. An' I thought it proper to return it."

Jones questioned her, "Why didn't ye give it to yer friends?"

"I wanted ye to have it."

Jones couldn't keep back his emotions. He stepped forward, touching Bree's face with a tentacle, caressing her cheek. How could he have not realized how sweet she was? Bree closed her eyes, sighing almost wistfully. Then she opened her eyes again, adding, "I'm here to stay, if I'm welcome."

Davy Jones felt his soul soaring when she said this. She was his again!

Jones looked down at his heart, wondering. Didn't he now have a reason to return it to his flesh?

"Bree…" Jones spoke with the shyness of a young child, "…I can't do this on my own."

Bree looked down at Jones' hands. He held the heart in his normal hand, but he couldn't use his claw to replace the heart.

"Will ye help me?"

Bree blushed bright red, and Jones adored her for it. She was so pure, so sweet and so innocent. A beautiful virgin, shy and ignorant of the ways of vulgar men. He should have looked for that back when he was a mortal and a younger man.

Bree took the heart from Jones, holding it gently. Jones curled his tentacle beard behind his shoulders and moved back his shirt, revealing the terrible hole in the left side of his chest. Bree didn't pale at the horrific sight. But Jones could see pity filling her eyes. She glanced up shyly at him, and then reached out, slowly, timidly, and gently touched him. Jones felt fire shoot through him, but Bree's hand cooled that flame in a soothing way. He could feel the tingling in her fingers magnified in his own skin as she began to replace the heart.

Bree began to probe the hole in Jones' chest, pulling back jagged cuts and trying to find the proper way to put the heart in. Her hands were trembling, and her arms felt numb as she worked.

Jones marveled at how gentle Bree's touch was. He relished the feel of her hands as she worked, deftly reconnecting things and positioning the heart. Jones felt the arteries begin to reconnect, and blood began to flow through him again.

All the while, Jones' eyes never left Bree's face. She glanced up at him every once in a while, but she seemed so shy and timid. As the heart began to fuse back into his body, Jones felt his emotions growing stronger. His feelings were coming back to him after so long.

Bree took her hands away, and the skin sealed up over the heart. She touched Jones' chest softly, feeling the hard muscles underneath and running her hands over the long, jagged battle scars that the great captain had accumulated over centuries of hardship, before and after his terrible curse. The heart finally fused in place, and Bree removed her hands, almost not wanting to.

Jones felt as if he would die. He had thought it wasn't possible to love Bree any more than he had. But now…the feeling was so fiery and strong that he couldn't stand it. He couldn't help himself. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close to him and kissed her.

Bree was somewhat surprised but opened her mouth and responded, her arms around his neck. Jones could feel tears rolling down his cheeks, and they mingled with Bree's own tears.

Jones drew away for one short moment, asking in an almost breathless voice, "Ye won't leave me again, will ye, Bree?"

Bree clung closer to him as she answered, "I didn't want to leave…an' I still don't want to…an' I won't."

Jones sighed, pure bliss making him giddy as he felt her lips against his again. They spoke no more words after this, simply content to melt into one another's arms.

Jimmylegs was peeping through a crack in the door, straining to see. He saw the forms of Bree and Jones embracing. He grinned, hissing to the others, who were huddled behind him.

"'E kissed 'er."

Murmurs broke out, and barnacle crusted elbows nudged sides as the crew winked and chuckled.

Bootstrap stood in the back of the group, smiling. He spoke under his breath, inaudible to all.

"Finally."

"I thought ye were goin' to stay on the Dutchman!"

Jack stood in front of Bree who had returned to the Pearl. He noticed how her face was absolutely radiant and she was carrying herself differently. But he waited for her answer.

"I will, Jack, but…well, I've come to ask another favor of ye."

Jack, unable to refuse a friend anything, nodded, "Fine. What is it?"

Bree began blushing again, "Well, ye're a cap'n…can ye perform a marriage?"

Jack wasn't stupid. He immediately put two and two together. His mouth dropped open. There was a moment of awkward silence, in which Bree clearly heard Cotton's parrot outside the cabin squawk, "Awk! Bilgewater! Bilgewater!" Cotton must be swearing some colorful oaths.

Then Jack rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Bree's torso and lifting her into the air, swinging her around and laughing, "Ah, mate, my best wishes to ye! I'm honored ye'd think of me!"

Bree laughed, beating at his back painfully, "Ach, put me down, ye great ninny! Ye'll snap me spine if ye keep squeezin' me like that! 'Sblood, ye've a grip like the Kraken itself!"

Jack didn't release Bree but set her back down, ruffling her hair fondly, "Miss Bree, ye've done what no girl could! Ye've tamed the sea, so ye have!"

Bree glowed with pride and joy, "No, none can tame the sea! An' no one ever will!"

Jack squeezed Bree one last time, kissing the top of her head, "Tell me…how long did ye stare into one another's eyes?"

Bree slapped Jack playfully, "Oh, gerroff! Just tell me ye know somethin' about weddin's!"

The moment she said this, Bree and Jack both heard Gibbs call out, "Sail ho, off the starboard beam!"

Hurrying out into the night, Bree and Jack leaned over the railing to see the oncoming vessel. Bree's face lit up.

"It's the Bloodmast!"

And so it was! And she was up alongside the Pearl in no time. Bree could see Barbossa standing near the helm. He was looking across at the Pearl. Bree remembered that he had been captain of it once. During her time on the Bloodmast, Barbossa had told her about his desire to have the Pearl back, though he still thought the Bloodmast was a good ship, but he called her an 'old lady'.

Bree waved across, "Ahoy, Cap'n!"

Barbossa spotted Bree. He was somewhat surprised. He hadn't known where the girl had gone when she didn't return to the Bloodmast when they put in at Tortuga. And now she was on the Pearl! With Jack Sparrow, nonetheless!

Like a cautious, overprotective father, Barbossa began thinking what anyone would. But he returned his thoughts to the present as Bree called across again, "Drop anchor, mate! I need to talk to ye!"

Jack grabbed Bree's arm, "What're ye doin'?"

Bree shushed him, "Oh, don't be a baby. He's like a father to me! I'll have to invite him to the weddin'!"

Barbossa came aboard the Pearl, keeping his distance from Jack. This was fine with both Bree and Jack. Bree took Barbossa off a ways and told him the good, but strange, news. Of course, Barbossa accepted the invitation. Then he excused himself, calling across to the Bloodmast for one of the crewmembers to fetch someone.

Bree looked across at the other ship, and was delighted to see a familiar figure come out of the cabin.

"Lillian!"

Lillian smiled across at Bree, waving. Then they all had to wait for Barbossa to return to the Bloodmast, fetch Lillian and come back aboard the Pearl.

Lillian embraced Bree, "'Tis good to see you, young one. What news?"

And so Bree repeated her story. As all this was going on, Jack had disappeared to his cabin. He soon emerged, interrupting a conversation between the young woman and the girl about weddings, as Bree had no knowledge of them.

"Bree, mate, I'm thinkin' ye'd want to invite Will an' Elizabeth, aye?" Jack asked, and when Bree nodded he continued, "Here, I wrote a letter to 'em. D'ye think Jones could send on of 'is men to deliver it? None o' my crew would be able to get into Port Royal without bein' hung."

Bree took the letter from Jack, hugging him, "Always thinkin', aren't ye, Jack?"

Barbossa coughed loudly, striding away. Lillian winked at Jack and Bree, then turned to go after him.

Bree had never been into girly things. Having been born on a pirate ship and raised in Tortuga where girls weren't exactly trained to be ladies, she had always been a tomboy. She had always worn boy's clothes and played with the other young boys, wrestling and fighting with the best of them. She had never held with things like dresses and weddings.

Now she had to be. Of course, she knew nothing of weddings. But luckily, Lillian did, being more of a lady. The two young women sat up all that night, discussing things. Bree didn't want it to be too formal, as it was, after all, a pirate's wedding.

The next few days went both slowly and fast for Bree. Slow because of the eagerness for the day to arrive and fast because of the business of everything. But it wasn't too long after that Will and Elizabeth arrived via the Bloodmast, which had swung by Tortuga. The couple had arranged to meet Barbossa there.

Elizabeth hugged Bree, speaking excitedly, "Oh, Bree, it's all so wonderful! I can't believe it! When Will and I got the news, we just couldn't believe it!"

Will kissed Bree's cheek, "Aye, and we were so glad you though of us! Oh, you have to see the twins!"

A young woman came into the cabin, carrying a baby on each hip. She was a pretty woman, but hard and tough. Bree could tell she was another pirate.

The woman smiled, speaking in a rough voice, "Here they are! Jack an' Bree!" She handed the babes to their parents. She then stuck out her hand to Bree, "Ye must be Bree! Jack's told me a lot about ye."

Bree shook the woman's hand, "Aye, an' who are ye?"

The female pirate flashed her another smile, "Me name's Anamaria. I've known Jack for a long time, as well as Liz an' Will."

Bree smiled at her, "Well, any friend o' Jack is a friend o' mine."

Then Bree turned to the babies. The infant girl, Bree, was a chubby, dark-eyed beauty with soft little brown curls framing her face. The little boy, Jack, had the same dark eyes and lighter hair. Bree took Jack in her arms, bouncing him on her hip and smiling at his gurgled happily, "Aye, that's right, mate! Ach, ye're a big, fine fellow, ain't ye?"

Will and Elizabeth smiled as Bree baby-talked the infant boy. She would've made a fine mother.

The day had finally arrived. Bree rose from her hammock, feeling as if she had a swarm of mad butterflies in her stomach. She went to the Pearl's railing, looking across at the Dutchman. Soon that would be her home.

It already is my home, she thought. And it was true. But she was still free. Jones had assured her that she would always be free to visit her friends and roam where she pleased.

A soft noise behind Bree caused her to turn. Elizabeth came to lean up against the railing beside her. She looked out over the waves before addressing Bree.

"Are you ready, Bree?"

Bree then realized how nervous she was. But she swallowed her anxiety, knowing that she was ready. She was ready because she loved Jones.

"Aye…aye, I'm ready, but…is it alright to be a bit nervous?"

Elizabeth laughed softly, "Of course! It's natural to be nervous! I was nervous when I married Will. But I was ready. And I knew I loved Will. And he loves me, like no man ever could."

Bree looked at Elizabeth. A soft expression of love was on her face. She smiled. Elizabeth felt the same love for Will that Bree felt for Jones.

Bree looked back at the Dutchman.

"I'm ready."

The wedding was in an hour.

Bree was sure she was going to faint. She went into the Pearl's cabin with Anamaria, Lillian and Elizabeth. They were all going to help her get ready.

Elizabeth undid Bree's braids, running her fingers through her friend's thick, blond hair. It was tangled and a bit unruly, but Elizabeth went through it with a comb, making it shine like gold. Bree's hair was naturally wavy, falling to the middle of her back. Elizabeth looked her over approvingly, smiling, "You have beautiful hair, Bree."

Bree was never one to care about her looks. But she blushed, all at once wishing she wasn't as rough. This was, after all, her wedding.

Lillian and Anamaria, meanwhile, were seeing to Bree's clothing. Elizabeth had brought her own wedding gown, delighted to see it put to use again, especially for Bree. Once the three women had gotten the younger girl into the small barrel of water and rinsed the mud and grime from her, they helped her slip into the dress.

Bree hadn't seen herself in a dress. When Jones had made her wear it so long ago, she didn't have a looking glass to see it. Now there was a small glass for her to look in.

Bree stood in front of the mirror, hardly believing that the girl reflected back at her was really her. She looked so different!

A knock on the cabin door sounded. Elizabeth opened the door to reveal Maccus. He scraped apologetically, then held something out. Elizabeth took it from him and shut the door.

Lillian took the object from Elizabeth and undid the clasp. It was the medallion.

Looping it around Bree's neck, Lillian did the clasp again and pulled Bree's hair out of the way of the chain. The small medallion had been polished until it shone like a star. Bree stroked the chain, smiling softly.

At last, Bree was ready. Anamaria opened the door for her and she strode out.

Will, Gibbs, Jack, Barbossa and the other men were all standing outside, talking. When Bree came out, they all stood, slack-jawed. Even Jack couldn't speak for a long while. But he was the first to recover. Handing little Jack over to Gibbs, the captain of the Black Pearl went to Bree, smiling approvingly, "Ah, me darlin', ye look lovely. I'm beginnin' to envy Jones."

Bree smiled, punching Jack playfully on the arm. She spoke in a somewhat shaky voice, "I hope I'm ready."

Elizabeth put her hand on Bree's arm, "Of course you are, Bree. Don't fret."

Bree smiled again, mouthing a thank you to her friends. She then went to Will, taking little Bree from his arms. She looked into the infant girl's dark brown eyes, saying softly, "I hope ye find yer true love…but not with all th' hardships I went through."

Bree gathered up her skirts, stepping onto the Dutchman. Bootstrap Bill embraced Bree, "Ye look stunnin', mate!"

Bree smiled up at him, "So…ye gonna help me do this?"

Bootstrap grinned, "Aye, it's easy. Just walk an' when Jack's talkin', nod a few times."

Bree grinned back, and then went with Elizabeth to make some last minute preparations.

Bree took the first few trembling steps, her arm hooked around Bootstrap's as they headed towards the makeshift altar. Jack stood holding an old Bible in his hands, and beside him stood Davy Jones. He was waiting for her.

Bree felt her mouth go dry. Her eyes locked with Jones'. She was sure that if she looked away she would lose all her courage. But she kept walking, Bootstrap whispering to her, "Ye're doin' fine, beauty. C'mon, just a few more steps."

Everyone was there. Will, Elizabeth, Gibbs, the rest of the Pearl's crew, the Bloodmast's crew, Barbossa, Lillian, even the Dutchman's crew! Bree noticed with an inward smile that Hadras was weeping unashamedly.

At last, after what seemed like hours, Bree reached Jack and Jones. She stood opposite Jones, and Jack took his place slightly behind and between them. He opened the Bible, putting on a serious face and looking from Bree and Jones to the audience gathered before him. He cleared his throat, and said, "Er…join hands, mates…or…in yer case," he indicated Jones' claw, "hand."

Jones took Bree's left hand in his good hand and placed his claw under her right hand. He didn't take his eyes from her face. She was beautiful. Just like when he had first seen her in a dress. But then he hadn't known his feelings, and he hadn't known how badly he had needed her. And now she was his.

Bree barely heard Jack as he spoke. All her attention was drawn to Jones. When directed, she took Jones' ring from Elizabeth, who was standing nearby. She raised Jones' good hand in hers and slid the ring onto his finger, feeling him wrap his elongated forefinger around her wrist softly.

Jones then took Bree's ring from Will, sliding it onto her finger. Then he was content to simply look at her as Jack finished his speech.

Bree glanced over at the audience. She saw Lillian in the background, standing with Barbossa. Bree smiled. Barbossa was slipping a ring onto Lillian's finger as Lillian did the same. Bree made a mental note to congratulate Lillian later.

Jack finished up with some profound words that were pretty much lost on everyone. He sniffed, wiping his eyes and then looked back up at Bree and Jones, who were still staring at each other.

"Er…I said ye can kiss 'er now, Cap'n."

Jones flicked a tentacle absently at Jack, then bent, wrapping his arm around Bree's shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her. Bree responded, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks as cheers arose from the audience.

When Bree pulled away from Jones, she was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. She then turned to her friends and picked up her bouquet, which was a mix of hastily picked flowers and a few bits of coral.

Bree flung the bouquet out over the gathered group.

The bouquet flew and spiraled through the air to land squarely in Anamaria's grasp. Jack seemed to materialize at her side, looking at her hopefully.

Jones stood back as Bree hugged Jack. The captain of the Black Pearl kissed the top of the girl's head, saying, "Ye be good, ye hear me? An' promise ye'll persuade yer husband to let ye visit me."

Bree cuffed him playfully, "Ah, git on with ye! Of course, don't worry yerself! Now shove off!" She kissed his cheek as he descended into the ship's boat to head back to the Pearl.

Everyone had left. Will, Elizabeth, Barbossa and Lillian had all left earlier on the Bloodmast, and now Jack was setting off on the Pearl.

Bree watched the Pearl disappear into the night. Jones stepped forward, reaching out and caressing her shoulders softly. He spoke softly, "Will ye miss them?"

Bree leaned back against Jones' shoulder, sighing, "Aye, but that's only natural. They're all my friends."

Then she turned in Jones' arms, looking up at him, "But I'd rather be with you."

Jones smiled, his newly restored heart swelling. He bent and kissed her again.

Bootstrap tapped on the stairs to announce his presence. Jones and Bree turned to see him.

Bootstrap nodded to them both, "It's gettin' late. Shouldn't you two…well…"

Bree bit her hands and blushed bright red. Jones coughed loudly, then said in a rough voice, "That's enough, Mister Turner."

Bootstrap saluted, grinning wildly, and descended back to the hold.

Jones looked down at Bree, feeling all his nervousness coming back, "Er, 'e is right, Bree…"

Bree looked up at him, nodding, "Aye…he is."

Bree intertwined her hand in Jones, her eyes shining with trust. Jones' mouth went dry. She was ready…for him.

Bree had never felt so much bliss, but she had never been so frightened. She was trembling, nervous and unsure. Jones was just as frightened as she was. His arms were shaking as he held her.

Bree never knew that Jones could be that gentle. He was treating her as if she was made of some fragile material, careful, slow and cautious. Bree felt her heart swelling for him, and the tingling grew worse.

Jones himself was unsure. He ran his claw down Bree's skin, but stopped as she shuddered, whispering, "I'm not hurtin' ye, am I?" He ruefully looked at the rough shell of his claw. But Bree shook her head, pressing herself closer, "No…don't stop."

The two both moved slowly and carefully. Bree was inexperienced and found this experience new and frightening. Jones gently coaxed her, helping her along, patient and gentle. He ran his good hand down her side, feeling the long, jagged whip marks that had never really healed and the cruel battle scars. He felt his newly recovered heart aching. That Bree would trust him in such a way truly showed that she loved him.

Jones hadn't realized how strong his craving for Bree was. Aye, there was no lust involved. Just being able to see her everyday would have been enough. But being able to touch her…and feeling her touch him…was so overwhelming that he thought he would burst from it all.

Bree felt something splash onto her shoulder. She looked up at Jones. Tears were slowly trickling down his cheeks. Bree reached up and touched his face, looking into his eyes. She noticed that the sickly blue color had brightened, deepening into a color identical to her own. Disturbed by his tears, Bree spoke in a breathless voice, "Am I…am I not doing it right?"

Jones removed his hand from Bree's torso and brushed the hairs from her face, admiring the soft pink color that was creeping up her neck into her cheeks. He kissed her softly, reassuring her, "No, lass. No one ever did better."

He was telling the truth. She was bringing him more pleasure than he had ever felt in his life. Just the knowledge that she did this with true love in her heart made him happy enough to die. Bree smiled, answering in a trembling voice, "Thank you, Captain."

Jones drew her closer, feeling her heart beating against his. His skin had been growing warmer with the combination of the blood now circulating through his body and Bree's warmth pressed against his. Jones pressed his mouth to Bree's hair, breathing in her scent as he whispered, "No more captain, Bree. I want you to call me Davy. Say my name for me, love. No more formality." He tipped her chin back, breathing onto her cheek, his voice trembling as he spoke words he never thought he would say, "Ye're the bride of Davy Jones, now, Bree. I'll expect ye to address yer husband by 'is name."

Bree tightened her grip on Jones' shoulders, speaking with a happy sob in her voice, "I will." Then she drew away enough to look up into his eyes, "I love you, Davy."

Jones cupped her face and kissed her again, feeling so much passion and love for her that he was sure he would never be able to fully express it, even if he had all eternity.

And that was how it would be. Bree would be with Davy Jones aboard the Flying Dutchman for all eternity.