Me Treasure

Author: Daniela
Fandom: PotC: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: R
Category: Angst, Adventure, Romance
Series/Sequel: 1. Sequel to 'Stranded'
Summary: Jack and James are far from being safe.
Warning: M/M, Slash
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Nobody is capable of owning them.
Feedback: Yes, please. It's my treasure.
Email: daniforblue@yahoo.de
Released: February 2004
Revised: April 2020
Beta: Monika, Ysolde
Word Count: 21750

"A ship!" James exhaled in awe because he couldn't believe it was true.

The pirate shaded his eyes to take a look for himself. "What ship?"

Squinting against the sun, James caught the symbol on the wavering flag. Oh god, no. "Pirates. You are one lucky bastard."

Sparrow's hand dropped down. "Ain't no pirate, matey."

"Come on. Look at the flag. Who else would it be?"

"Someone, something much worse. A disease, the nightmare of every ocean."

"What are you talking about?"

"Inhuman, remorseless, horrible monsters."

James smirked. "Sounds like someone I know."

"I'm bloody serious. Those are slave traders. Fun time is over. Savvy?"

What the hell? James couldn't say he was having fun, could he? Kissing a pirate, getting jerked off against my will, being sucked by his filthy mouth. Humiliation is fun for me now? Well, part of me liked it, liked it a lot. So, yes, part of it had been fun.

"What's on yer mind?"

"Huh? You... You think we should hide?"

"Nah, it won't help us. We have to get off the island. The ship is our chance. We have to get on it. After this we'll figure out how to get to a safe haven. Savvy?"

James nodded. He was feeling quite unbalanced by the rushing events in such a short time. He fixed his attention on the group of men who were rowing towards them in a dinghy.

"Here they come," Sparrow muttered, straightening up. "Don't tell them yer real name. Trust me, it's wiser to lie. Can ye do that?"

James nodded once more and kept watching the threat coming for them. He wasn't feeling like himself. Indeed he was feeling confused, frightened and - horny. For God's sake. Knock it off! Have you actually gone mad? Well, his life had never been so adventurous, not even with Tommy. Even though he already had met some slave traders in his life, he had met them as James Norrington, officer in the British Navy, with a whole crew backing him up. Never like this. Stranded on an island, with a pirate at his side, a man, who was still his enemy.

"What's on yer mind now?"

"Nothing to interest you."

"Aye? Yer face doesn't look that way. Yer..."

"Be quiet. They are here."

A distinguished looking man jumped out of the boat, splashing the water with his boots, smiling a bit too friendly. "Ahoy, Gentlemen! I never expected any company here." The owner of the silky-soft voice had sandy hair, cold blue eyes and a small, handsome face. Compared to the crew behind him, he was dressed elegantly, almost like a gentleman. "May I ask who I have the pleasure of being acquainted with?"

Sparrow beat James by a second. "I'm Jack and this is...," he paused, and James dropped in, "...James Mallory, traders. Our ship was entered by pirates and sank. Bloody pirates. They should be killed, all of them."

"I agree," Sparrow said, playing along. "That scum is such an annoyance."

"I'm John Wellington," the sweet-talking man said, ignoring their declarations. "I and my crew are in the trading business too." He eyed Sparrow from top to bottom, and an evil grin graced his thin lips. "I recognize a pirate when I see one."

Stretching his modest height a bit more, Sparrow was smiling as cheerful as on the day James had first met him. "Aye. Ye caught me, name's Jack Turner. Ye must have heard of me."

Bugger! Shut up. This is not the time to show off. James didn't notice Wellington's attention had turned to him.

"I'm not sure about you. Even though you're looking pretty battered, you're no pirate."

A snake in the grass. James' stomach revolted at the man's unpleasant demeanour. "You are right. I am a trader and a gentleman."

"A liar as well," Wellington mocked him.

"I am not lying," James snapped, clenching his fists. You are the impostor round here.

A muscle-packed crew member with a tattooed chest came straight forward and grabbed his naked arm.

Well, my shirt is still wrapped around Sparrow's leg, James noted sourly.

Tattoo chest grinned. "What a white skin. You'll bring a high price on the market. Maybe we'll have some fun before that."

James tore his arm free and knocked the thug stone-cold to the ground. "Don't touch me, you dirty pig."

The brute staggered back to his feet, pulling out a knife.

In a swift move James drew the dagger from Sparrow's sash. The pirate gaped, for once thrown off guard.

"Stop it," Wellington hissed. "Put your knife away, Red-eyes. I don't want our precious goods damaged before we sell them on the market."

Red-eyes obeyed, though he sneered at James.

James swallowed his disgust. Come on! Give me your best shot. I will bury you.

"I hope, you won't make the mistake of fighting us, but come willingly onto the boat?" Wellington said, straightening his left cuff.

Don't count on it. James shifted his weight to sally out. Death before slavery.

Though Sparrow fetched his dagger back, and handed it over to Wellington. "Aye, Sir. Whatever ye command." He seized James' arm. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Damn you. Dazed by the overwhelming tide of events, James let Sparrow walk him to the boat. They got in and were sitting shoulder by shoulder. The crew rowed the boat away from the island towards the ship. Just now James removed Sparrow's hand from his arm.

"Ye stunned me, mate," the pirate murmured. "Battered like ye are...," he chuckled, "...ye've quite a blow. Ye almost knocked the man out."

"What do you want?" James wasn't in the mood for his games.

Sparrow grinned. "Ye could have beaten me anytime, eh? I'm asking meself..."

"What?" he barked.

"...why didn't ye?"

"What is it to you? Mind your own business."

"I will. Just for the moment though. Not forever."

"What a shame." James snorted. The pirate fell silent.

Well, why didn't you knock Sparrow out when you had the chance? Why were you holding off? He scratched at a few mosquito bites on his upper arm to keep his hands busy and his quick temper in check. Why is he always able to disarm you?

The ship of the slave traders was coming closer and closer. It was a fine ship, beautiful, despite her owner. Indicated by the admiring look on his face, Sparrow was thinking the same. Well, there was no time for wallowing in its beauty. He and the pirate were pushed to climb up the ladder to the deck. Without further ado they were then clapped in irons.

"Show these gentleman our finest quarters, Red-eyes," Wellington ordered, and turned toward a good-looking fellow. The man hardly looked at them but leaned into his captain, whispering into his ear. Wellington smiled.

Climbing down below deck, James felt caught in a blurry dream - a nightmare. He saw himself as others would, dirty, worn out, captured, a common criminal. He sank to the ground, thankful for being alone. Well. Not alone.

"What are ye thinking?"

"Nothing."

"About us - this morning?"

"No," James growled. "Not at all. Rather about how to get out of this mess." Tilting his head, Sparrow gave him a smile, he too remembered from that one day in Port Royal, when they had first met. A dashing, irresistible smile. Back then, the pirate had been teasing him, provoking him to match with him. He had fallen for his trickery. He wouldn't today. Right. What would have happened, if we were still on the island? Why do I lie to myself? I would have given in to him. Let him take me. I feel so drawn to him. Exactly. This here is better. Not being alone with him anymore. Safe from his incredible persuasiveness. Oh yes, he is good.

"James?" Sparrow touched one of his thighs.

"Not here."

Sparrow chuckled. "Savvy. Ye wouldn't refuse me if we were still alone."

"That is not what I meant."

"What did ye mean then, eh?"

James searched for the proper words, a flimsy excuse. He had nothing though, could only stare at Sparrow, licking his sunburnt lips. Time stood still. The howling noise on deck diminished, the gloomy light turned yet a shade darker.

Then the pirate lifted his hands and thumbed James' bottom lip.

He exhaled but didn't brush his enemy off. He needed that tenderness. He couldn't wait for the kiss. He was sure Sparrow would kiss him, not minding where they were or who was sailing this ship. If the pirate wanted something he just took it.

The hatch above their heads snapped open.

James flinched back from Sparrow, though he was catching the sparkle of fire in the black eyes of his enemy.

Someone was climbing down. The man who had molested him and then wanted to stab him. Red-eyes.

The thug reached the bottom and was checking him out from top to bottom.

Brilliant. James clenched his jaw. What is it with me and criminals? Is it me? Do I come on to them in some way?

"What white skin, what a body, definitely a good catch," Red-eyes chatted him up. "What's your game, cutie?"

Sparrow shoved himself between James and the slave trader. "None of yer business. Leave him alone."

"Got yourself a protector," Red-eyes sneered. "A handcuffed one, who couldn't fight me, even if he were without irons."

Sparrow uncurled his body to full size. "Wanna bet?"

"Come on, pirate. What's he to you? Your lover?"

"Not in the least," James hissed. "He means nothing to me."

"You're on the market then, eh?" Red-eyes leered.

"What did you come down here for?" James said, uneasy to the core, but ready to fight for his dignity.

"The captain sent me to check on you, so you wouldn't get any ideas. If you know what I mean." He reached out, either with the intention to touch James or to tempt him to hit him again.

"Try me," James snarled, lifting the chains like a weapon.

Red-eyes chuckled and went back to the steps, climbing up. "Wait and see, cutie. Someday, you will be without your pirate-slut."

He entered the deck and closed the hatch.

James dropped his hands. The chains clunked. "Don't ever do this again!"

"What, eh?"

"Trying to protect me."

"Aye. Ye could take me or him anytime."

"Indeed I can. I am an officer in the British Navy."

"Savvy, luv."

"No, you don't understand. Only because I didn't fight-" Damn! He clapped his mouth shut.

Sparrow was already on to him. "Ye weren't really fighting me, eh?" The pirate's tone was light, though his expression was serious.

James turned around looking for a place to lie down. He was done talking for now. He couldn't respond to a question he didn't know how to answer himself. Stretching out on the wooden planks, he waited for Sparrow's mockery. It didn't come. Not a word. The pirate granted him an odd truce, James was definitely grateful for.

*****

The silence was disturbed by the handsome fellow opening the hatch. Not that thug Red-eyes. "The captain wants to see ye."

The sound of rattling chains told James the pirate was moving. Was he that eager to confront their captor? Well, maybe being forced to sit around, unable to do anything was the worst punishment for him. Keeping back he followed Sparrow on to the deck. There the pirate was standing close to the stranger who had opened the hatch. He was chatting friendly with the slave trader, not minding the man's company, who was indeed handsome, if you were into bad lots.

"It is interesting to see, you never fail in finding yourself a toy you can play with," he mocked Sparrow, joining the odd couple. That he sounded rather jealous than cynical startled him.

A grin split the pirate's face.

"What?" James was ready for a confrontation. Right now he was in the mood to break a few bones, to actually put his life on the line to get rid of the sense of shame.

"Just figuring something out."

The slave trader scum took his part in the conversation. "Jack, yer lover...."

"I am not his lover!" James barked loud enough for every man on deck to be heard.

Laughter rose.

Damn it! He flushed. "We are enemies. Nothing else."

"Nay, he's not mine. Never will be," Sparrow agreed, leaning closer to the slave trader.

James whirled around and walked on to the captain's quarters. He couldn't help himself but to look back at the duo.

The slave trader was saying something to Sparrow. The pirate threw thereupon a mystified look in his direction. In a bouncy stride he followed James then. His new companion remained on the spot, looking roguish.

In Wellington's quarters, James couldn't keep his curiosity at bay. "What did that bugger say to you?"

"Ramon? Ye don't wanna know."

"Sparrow...." he started but was cut off by Wellington coming in. He loathed that man. He could spot a mean bastard any time. That was a gift he owned for years. That was why he knew from the start that Sparrow was... even though he was a pirate and filthy, he was not....

"Let's start again," Wellington said, cracking his knuckles. "Names?"

"James Mallory," he rehashed, wishing he could put a blow at their captor.

"Aye, and I'm Jack Turner," Sparrow went along, slightly see-sawing.

"Stop lying. You're a pirate and you're a gentleman. Finding you together on that island is kind of strange, don't you think? What's your story then?"

"We have none," James muttered.

"Are you lovers?"

"No we are not," Sparrow forestalled James' bluster. "He would never touch me, filthy as I am. Savvy?"

"Were you marooned?" Wellington said, ignoring the pirate's mockery.

"Sort of," Sparrow continued to talk in riddles.

Wellington's lips were twitching. "You're nothing but trouble Jack Turner, but you...," he fixed his attention on James, "...will bring a good price on the market. White skin, good, strong body, gentleman looks."

"I will be never anybody's slave," James hissed, boiling with rage. "Never. You can kill me first."

Wellington's polite smile faded away. "We'll see. I have captured tougher men than you and I broke them all."

They stared at each other.

Sparrow broke the stalemate, sounding as cheerful as ever. "Ye don't intend to choose him before me? All gentlemanly and uptight. No fun lies in there. I can tell, savvy?"

James winced. "Shut up!"

Wellington sneered and turned his attention back to Sparrow. "Are you sure? My taste is of a different nature. The challenge to unwind such men is half the fun." He called for Red-eyes.

The muscle-packed man appeared fast. Had he been eaves-dropping outside the door? "Aye?"

"Take that one back." Wellington pointed at Sparrow. "I want to talk to this one in private."

James was already on the edge but noticing genuine concern in Sparrow's eyes increased his concern to the highest level.

The pirate hid his worries behind the familiar cheeriness. "Pity. Could have had me. But I would never force meself on anyone."

Red-eyes leered briefly at James and then he shoved Sparrow outside. The pirate complained about the unfair treatment of two honest sailors.

"Here are we now," Wellington said casually, as if he had James invited for a cup of afternoon tea. "Let's talk about you. What's your name?"

James didn't answer and braced himself for the inevitable.

Wellington hit him in the face.

James didn't flinch but his lip split open and blood dripped from his mouth.

"What is your connection to the pirate?"

"None," he spat at his tormentor. "Coincidence that we were stranded on that island."

"I don't believe you. I saw the way he looks at you and the way you look at him. Besides that, the pirate reeks of recent pleasure. Such a distinct smell, I wonder how much you've desired to be rescued."

"You are mistaken." James wiped his mouth with both hands. The chains clunked.

"Come now. You already have given in to him, haven't you?"

"I won't tell you."

"You sure?" Wellington grinned. He touched James' bare chest, his nails were scraping along the hairline down to the middle.

James shook and pulled away. "Don't touch me, bastard." A second hit in the face smashed him against the wall. He was bleeding more, the blood was dripping down his chest and on to the ground. "You can hit me as much as you want, I won't tell you."

"Think about it," Wellington snarled. "You can be with me, enjoy a good life as a slave trader or you can be sold on the slave market, like any ordinary scum. The choice is yours."

"Well, you can sell me, but you can't buy me." James spat his blood before the slave trader's feet.

"As you wish." Wellington yelled for Red-eyes. The brute appeared almost as fast as the last time. "Aye, sir?"

"Let's give this gentleman a flogging. He will realise then, he isn't in charge anymore."

"My pleasure, sir." Red-eyes dragged James by his irons outside and chained him to the main mast.

James didn't feel any fear, only cold fury. Such an outrageous thing had never happened to him. The entire scenario was almost surreal. Wellington's next order was a shot across the bow.

"Get his pirate friend up here. I want him to see this."

James didn't want Sparrow to witness his humiliation by this scum. Hadn't he been humiliated enough by Sparrow himself in the last couple of days? Sure, but this is none like that. Sparrow had never been cruel.

"Listen Captain, ye got us all wrong," Sparrow bargained with their tormentor. "We are...."

"Shut your mouth, or I'll give your friend twenty strokes more."

Though his face was jammed against the mast, James could hear Wellington's satisfaction because Sparrow did indeed shut up.

"I was right, wasn't I? You do care about him. This will be fun for you then."

Is the scumbag right? Does Sparrow indeed care about me? James marvelled, but then the first lash of the cat struck him; tearing his flesh open in a biting rage. He clenched his jaw, keeping himself from crying out. He wouldn't, not before Sparrow, nor that bastard Wellington. He braced himself for the next stroke and tried to shut his mind. The second stroke hit him, almost unbearable, but again he didn't make a sound. Think about something else, something better. Kissing Sparrow? The third stroke. He bit his tongue. He wouldn't cry. The isle. Sand and sun. Making out. The fourth. The pain in his back became insufferable, he was breaking up. Not much longer and he would.... The fifth stroke made him clench his jaw hard, hence more blood from his mouth spilled over his chin and dripped down his front.

"Enough!" Wellington ordered. "He will lose too much value on the market. Take him down, Red-eyes. His pirate friend can take care of him."

"I can walk alone," he growled, spitting blood, and shaking off Sparrow's supporting hands.

Sparrow let go of him. Wellington chuckled.

James ignored both of them and staggered down the steps below deck, simmering with rage.

"What about some water, mate?" Sparrow was back to smooth-talking.

James didn't care for Wellington's reply. He sank down on the wooden planks. He didn't want to talk, or think or feel. He just wanted to be left alone. The sound of rattling chains and light footsteps told him he wasn't.

The pirate was here too.

The enemy became the ally.

*****

Blimey! That damn leg. Jack slowed down. If I ever get out of this mess I need a month in me bunk.

"Move faster!" Red-eyes pushed him down the steps. "I want to get back and watch what's happening to your cutie." He sneered and closed the hatch.

Jack scrambled to his feet, fighting the unpleasant urge to scream and claw at the wooden steps. He hated to be banned from the main deck. Wellington's coming on to Norrington scared him for an alarming reason. He was goaded to cut the slave trader's bastard's throat. Not good. Nay. A long time had passed since he had felt the urge to kill anyone. That his bloodlust was back and he wanted to kill a man just because he threatened to molest the Commodore vexed him. Norrington isn't even me lover, nay, he dismisses me affections. Yet I don't want him being touched by anyone else, least of all without Norrington's approval. Aye, like I was having his approval. Well, I did, didn't I? He wasn't fighting me that much. He almost admitted it down here with me. So what, eh? Since when do I need excuses? I wanted him and I took me chances. Aye. I would do it again. Life is too short to waste such opportunities. I have to watch me back though. I hardly held me fire in Wellington's quarters. Having a fit of rage wouldn't have helped Norrington or meself. What does it matter, eh? I'm not there, though I can imagine what will happen knowing the Commodore's temper. Anything is...

A riot on deck jolted him out of his thoughts. The crew was running around. One of them was calling for the cat.

THE CAT.

"Worse than expected," he mumbled, scratching at his tattoo. They wanted to give Norrington a flogging. He must have made Wellington angry enough to stop caring about ruining his precious goods. That was bad. What now, Captain Jack Sparrow?

Wellington's next order held him off from making any radical decision - yet. "Get his pirate friend up here. I want him to see this."

Blimey! I didn't see any of this shit coming in the glory of this morning. He braced himself with a nonchalant smile.

The hatch opened. "Move!" Red-eyes snarled down to him.

Handicapped by the irons and his injured leg he more or less dragged himself up to the deck. The first sight that struck him was Norrington, chained to the mast, wearing a stoic expression, but even so looking quite miserable. Seeing the blood on his lips, Jack's desire to slash Wellington's throat increased tremendously. The aim of his rage was grinning at him. Aye. Waiting for me to beg for me lover, though he knows I won't show any affection for Norrington. That would only double the punishment. "Listen Captain, ye got us all wrong. We are..."

"Shut your mouth, or I'll give your friend twenty strokes more."

Jack clapped his mouth shut and lifted his chained hands, as he was asking for pardon. I don't, ye bastard. Not by a long shot.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Wellington sneered. "You do care about him. This will be fun for you then."

Jack looked up to the crow's nest. Aye, it will be fun to slash yer throat, spill yer blood, make ye squirm in pain and mortal fear.

Wellington granted Red-eyes to do the dirty deed. The tool executed the order beaming with joy. The cat hissed through the air. Jack's head twitched back to see how Norrington's lovely back was torn open, desecrated by a clear marking of red.

The Commodore flinched but failed to make the tiniest sound.

Jack swallowed and turned his attention to his fingernails. I'll cut yer fingers off first and feed them to the fish. Just then I'll kill ye. By the second stroke he was watching the sails flapping in the wind, the clouds which were drafting by.

The third stroke cut the silence.

Maybe yer toes too.

The fourth.

Bloody hell! Jack played with the rings on his fingers, lingering on the shiny green one. Norrington was starting to break. Not much longer and he would... I'll just cut off yer favourite part, a banquet for the gulls.

The fifth stroke was inevitable. Jack couldn't bear the misery in Norrington's face any longer or the blood on his mouth, dripping down his chin and front. That bastard must have hit him hard. Aye. I'll snuff him out.

"Enough!" Wellington ordered. "He will lose too much value on the market. Take him down, Red-eyes. His pirate friend can take care of him."

Jack jumped forward to back up Norrington and to prevent Red-eyes from touching him more than necessary.

"I can walk alone," the Commodore growled, spitting more blood.

Jack shrugged and let go of him.

Norrington staggered to the steps leading below deck. Red-eyes sneered. Wellington chuckled.

Aye, I'll have fun to cut ye into little pieces. "What about some water, mate?"

Wellington's patronising tone was almost too much. "Sure. Red-eyes give our precious goods some water. We want to keep them in good health. By the way, what happened to your leg?"

"A bloody shark. There are many swimming around in these waters. Savvy?"

A devilish grin was his reward. Jack didn't even blink. Given a rotten bucket with fresh seawater and a little bottle, he followed Norrington down below deck. On the way he was thinking of more inventive ways of slowly killing their captor.

The Commodore was lying crushed on the wooden planks.

Jack drank from the bottle, considering his next move. Rum. How terribly nice of that bastard. Won't save him from slaughter. Sated for now, he kneeled down next to Norrington. "Can't leave ye alone for one second, eh? What the hell happened?"

"That bastard touched me."

"Aye. What then?"

"I refused and insulted him."

"Not that clever, eh?"

"He hit me and then tried again, the idiot." Norrington shook. Goosebumps covered his arms. "I spat my blood before his feet."

"Not very British either though the bastard deserved all that and more. Here - have some rum."

Norrington drank greedily, clinging to the bottle, wincing because of the wounds in his mouth.

Jack ripped the right arm off of his shirt and dipped it in the water of the bucket. "I'm afraid, this is going to hurt."

"What?"

"I better clean the weals right away."

"You don't have to do this."

"Aye, but I'm doing it. The saltwater will burn like hell, but it will purify the wounds and make the later scars less obvious."

Norrington snorted. "As if I care."

"I know ye don't." Not in the least vain, eh? Jack rinsed the weals closest to the shoulders.

Norrington flinched. "Maybe you are doing this for the pleasure of hurting me?"

He stopped the treatment. "Ye believe that?"

"No. No, I don't."

"All right." He continued with the ordeal, quite affected by his enemy's pain.

Norrington gasped. "If you are doing this to make me like you, it won't work. You stay a bloody pirate."

"Can live with that, mate. Couldn't live with ye calling me 'Son of a bitch'."

"I didn't mean to," Norrington wheezed, and blushed. "I was angry."

"Aye. If she were a bitch I wouldn't make such a fuss. But she wasn't."

"Who was your mother?"

That he cared at all surprised Jack. "Ye really want to know?"

"Yes, I do."

Jack's heart warmed thanks to the lovely memories. "She was a treasure. Smart, brave and pretty. She was fifteen when she was brought over from England to the Caribbean. She was raised in England and was on her way to live with her parents."

"Exactly like Elizabeth. She was only twelve, when she came to Port Royal."

"Safely, I guess, protected by ye. But me mother's ship was entered by pirates and she was captured."

"Poor girl. What was her name?"

"Maureen."

"Did the pirates rape her?"

"No, though they wanted to. The captain didn't mind so much, but the first mate did. In his opinion, me mother was still a child. Luckily, he was popular with the crew and he did a lot of talking."

"Like father, like son," Norrington said, and his body slackened a bit. Either due to exhaustion or compassion.

He laughed. "Aye. In the end, the crew played cards for her. The winner got the girl."

"I assume your father won."

"Aye, he was good with the cards, but...," Jack smirked, "....he cheated anyway."

"He did, did he?"

"He had to, mate. Losing was too great a risk. A girl's future shouldn't depend on sheer luck. But the captain caught him cheating. Just for ol' times' sake, he only marooned me dad and mum on the next island, instead of killing them."

"Ah, I see," Norrington huffed.

"Nah, unlike his son, me dad didn't try anything on the island." He felt a sudden tension in Norrington's lower back, and smothered the urge to kiss the ragged wounds to reduce the pain. "Anyway, that island was inhabited."

"Sure! Did you believe everything your father told you?"

Jack smiled. "No, but me mum told me he didn't touch her until she wanted him to. Believe me; I know the story by heart. I begged me mum every night to tell me, over and over again. It was me favourite bedtime story." That particular memory pierced his heart. His mum sitting by his bunk, talking in a soft voice, her eyes bright and full of life. Norrington's disbelieving look helped a bit to fight the sudden sadness getting hold of him. "Aye, Captain Jack Sparrow, lying in his bunk listening to the sentimental love story of his parents. Destroys the legend a bit wouldn't ye say?"

"If it destroys anything then the myth," Norrington snarled. "Well, what happened on the island?"

"When they finally reached a town, me dad wanted to get rid of the girl, so to speak, get her back to her parents, but she refused to leave him."

"What did he do?"

"Well, let's just say, he didn't argue much in that matter. Shortly after, they were married and two years later, me dad had his own ship and crew and cruised the Caribbean again."

"Back to being a pirate." Norrington frowned. "Your mother was with him?"

"Aye. Until the end, she never left his side." He chewed at the bitter taste of excruciating loss.

Norrington didn't notice the change in his mood. "Was Sparrow your father's name, because I never heard of him."

"Nay, it was the nickname me dad had given me mum. Jack is the only name I inherited from me dad."

"What about you? Where you born on the ship?"

"Aye, and I grew up there."

"An adventurous life for a boy."

"Pretty much terrific, aye, though as we all know, every journey comes to an end." Jack sighed. "I'm finished." He put the soiled arm of his shirt aside. A tremendous sadness was piercing him and he fought the wave of dark memories, he didn't want to remember. He laid back and looked at Norrington, who was lying next to him, suspiring. He drew nearer, until only a whiff of air was left between them.

"What happened to your parents?"

Jack didn't want to think about them anymore. He rather engaged himself in the pleasure of Norrington's green eyes and shiny lips. "Kiss me."

"What? Are you crazy? This isn't the place nor the time for...." He broke off though and leaned in. "That is for your service." He gave Jack just a peck, then pulled back again.

Jack slid his tongue out, moistening his lips. "I want more, please."

"Knock it off!" Norrington exhaled, straightening his chains and stretching his back. Though instead of getting up, he moved in and Jack felt his lips again. Ah. Brilliant! He opened his mouth tasting desire and tenderness and something else. Something sweet and delicate. Norrington's blood. Aye, luv. Just give. I want all of ye. He kissed eagerly back and sneaked a hand around Norrington's hips, getting a grip on his ass. Caressing the firm curve, digging his nails in, he craved for his enemy to be naked. Belay! Take what you have. Don't bellyache. He pulled Norrington closer, pressing his hardening cock against his enemy's thigh.

Norrington broke away. "Enough."

"Come on. I'm in pain. I need..."

"Not here."

Jack blinked. "Eh? Nobody will...."

"I can't. Not in the midst of that scum."

He shrugged and turned on his back again. "Ye drive me crazy. Know that."

"Indeed? Uptight as I am? No fun lies in there."

"I only said that to protect us from naughty Wellington."

"Sure! You sounded pretty convincing."

"I never had this much fun with anyone."

"Liar," Norrington said, though his tone was soft.

Jack looked into his misty-green eyes. "Luv, didn't ye notice how horny I'm right now?" He seized Norrington's chained hands and put them on his hardness. The light contact alone made his cock twitch and leak its honey.

The Commodore didn't pull his hands back. Instead he squeezed Jack's shaft.

Jack wriggled and moaned. "Ye did that."

"Well, Mister Sparrow, if you promise to behave I'll do you the favour to end your suffering."

He raised both eyebrows. "Behave in what manner, luv?"

"Keep your hands to yourself."

"Eh! What for?"

"Your touch is poison. I don't want to get infected."

"Is that right, eh?" He should refuse the offer, being insulted in this way, shouldn't he? Oh, fuck. Wounded pride or not. The feelings he had due to Norrington rubbing his length made him surrender instantly. "Never mind. I promise."

"Very well." Norrington increased pace and pressure, making him squirm in delight.

"Ye're poison too. Ye waste your skills. Ye should practice more often."

"Indeed?" Norrington deadpanned. He fondled Jack's balls with delicate fingers.

That's it. The day has come. Don't miss out. He slid his hands down. He needed his cock bare to sample the rare pleasure to be jerked off by his enemy to the fullest.

Though Norrington pushed his hands away. "No."

"Ah, savvy. Breeches stay put. It's payback time to poor ol' Jack."

Norrington tightened his grip. "Already giving up? Aren't you Captain Jack Sparrow?"

He shrugged. "Nay. Ye have command. Do whatever ye want."

A devilish glint appeared in the Commodore's eyes and in a slick move he thrust both hands into Jack's breeches and hauled his cock out.

"Holy fuck!" The sneak attack made Jack almost come at once and he struggled hard to get his control back.

"Do you like that? Do you like to be taken?" Norrington gloated, rubbing the bare cock.

"Aye, luv, aye," Jack cheered, feeling on top of the world. Shiver me timbers! That man never ceases to surprise me.

Slowly, Norrington claimed his shaft, stroke by stroke, taking the time to explore the tender flesh, caressing the edges and the tip, making him rock-hard.

"James?" Don't stop, luv.

"What?" the Commodore murmured, brushing his fingers over the sensitive head of Jack's cock, then treating the flexible foreskin as well.

"Ye are... not what I...." he groaned, and then he whimpered, because Norrington increased the pace. In feverish desire to touch him, he grabbed for Norrington's shoulders and missed. Damn those chains.

"Is that the promise of a pirate?" Norrington cavilled about the move. He let go of Jack's shaft and seized Jack by the thick black hair. "Well then!" Norrington yanked his head back.

Jack cried out. Only once though. Norrington muted further complaints with a hard and defeating kiss. Holding him down with his body, kissing him like crazy, sucking on his tongue as if it was his cock.

Jack jerked violently in his enemy's grip. Oh yes! He wanted to come. Oh fuck! He wanted not to come. He suffered and at the same time he suffered not. Come on! Come - Norrington put his chained hands back on his hardness, and pursued the needed treat with quick and fierce motions.

Aye, luv! Trapped between the keen tongue and the smooth but strong hands, Jack couldn't stop himself anymore and fired off. His juices were spilled; his joyful cries poured out of him, were yet fading away in Norrington's throat. Shuddering and trembling, Jack wriggled in the vice-like grip, savouring the feeling of his seed wetting his belly and breeches.

The Commodore let go of him.

"Bloody hell!"

"Right. That is that."

"I don't savvy yer plan," he gasped, lying wasted.

"I never promised I wouldn't touch you, pirate. Savvy?" He didn't only mimic Jack's saying, but stuck out his tongue and licked Jack's fluids off his hands.

"Oh!" Jack felt a new wave of heat rushing through his body.

Norrington's face split into a grin.

What now? That face he makes. For the first time Jack could see all his teeth. The green of his eyes darkened to mysterious depths.

"You came pretty fast, didn't you, Captain Jack Sparrow? You didn't have much time for fun lately, did you?"

Jack shrugged, not in the least ashamed. "It's ye, who made me come that fast. Yer skills are intriguing. Pity, ye waste them."

"Just like now," Norrington snapped, unexpected peeved, considering what he had just said and done. He turned on his stomach. "Let us rest. Your treatment made my back burn like hell."

"Ye're welcome," Jack teased, though he agreed. He cleaned himself with water and his already soiled sleeve. We need to be rested to make plans for our escape. I guess soon we'll anchor by some island, which has a market where ye can sell everything. Focus, Jack me boy, focus, before ye two are too deep into trouble to ever get out again. I'm lucky, I have an ally on this ship nobody knows about. Neither Wellington, nor Red-eyes, and definitely not Norrington. Aye. Let's teach that scum up there what it means to make me worry about me... Nah, too soon. He settled back against a beam and started humming.

"Sparrow," Norrington growled, lifting his head.

"Aye?"

"I said rest. Aren't you in the least spent?"

"Hardly ever. What about a second go?"

"As if!" The Commodore rolled his eyes and put his head back on the planks. "Bugger!"

Jack continued humming cheerfully. Blimey! I never thought ye would be that much fun, James.

*****

At the break of dawn a feverish riot spread out on deck. Curt orders were given. Crew members were running around. The rocking of the ship slowed down.

Alert James watched the hatch, afflicted by his itching and sore back. He fought the urge to ask the pirate to scratch him hard or do whatever it took to make it stop.

Jack winked at him. "Exciting, eh?"

Right. "Not at all," he snarled. Besides his discomfort he could still taste the pirate's flavour in his mouth, hence he was particularly grumpy.

Jack grinned. "Not an early riser, eh?"

James' reply was drowned out by the noise floating in through the opened hatch.

"We're here. Move!" Red-eyes barked.

Not making any waves, James and Jack clambered up the steps. The sailors on deck were bustling around, anchoring the ship to the dock. Even though the arrival at a haven was not to their advantage, James was grateful for breathing fresh air again, as well as for Jack not humming anymore.

Wellington was already on deck too, keeping a sharp eye on the crew. His men didn't give him any reason to be upset. They handled their duties quick and precise.

Though then out of the blue everyone stood still. Dead silence was hovering over the ship. One of the crew members, an older man with an ashen face, pointed at Jack. "Captain, that's... that's...."

Wellington shifted his attention to the prisoners.

What the hell? James frowned, and eyed himself as well as the pirate. What is it now? Jack's naked arm drew his attention. Good gracious! The tattoo! The brand on Jack's exposed flesh was standing out like a signature.

Wellington glided forward, grabbing the pirate's arm. "So, it's Jack Sparrow, is it?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow," the pirate corrected him, glaring at Wellington's invasive hand.

James rolled his eyes. Bloody hell! Couldn't he drop that? Just once.

"Did you believe you could hide your true identity from me?" Wellington said, not in the least amused.

"I already did, didn't I?" Jack bragged, not at all intimidated.

"Being Jack Sparrow doesn't change your destiny. You will go to the market," Wellington said, pinching Jack's arm.

James winced. That is what you get for shooting your mouth off. Whatever your plan is, Jack, so far you are not succeeding in any way.

"But, Captain," the man, who had debunked Jack, disagreed, "it isn't good to make Jack Sparrow our enemy. There are stories about him...."

"So what?" Wellington said coldly. "What could he possibly do to us?"

"I've fought the dead themselves and won," Jack pointed smugly out.

Wellington barked a laugh. "Don't flatter yourself."

"It's true, Captain," Ramon interfered. "It's told that Captain Barbossa and his crew were cursed men. They walked around as the living dead. Sparrow lifted the curse and killed Barbossa."

Wellington snorted. "You think, because you have some reputation, I'll let both of you go?"

A sly smile changed the pirate's easy-going expression. "Nah, mate, just me. I don't care about some British officer, who wants me dead. The bugger almost succeeded once by sending me to the gallows."

A sting pierced James' heart, as if a dagger had struck him. A chilly and unexpected sensation. Yet he kept his mouth shut.

Wellington didn't buy Jack's story. "You're claiming your friend is a man of her Majesty's Navy? I don't believe you."

"It's true though. Ye can keep him. Do whatever ye want with him. Set me free and I'll promise ye'll never see me again. The British are everyone's enemy, savvy?"

Wellington stared at Jack, twisting the arm in his grip.

James swallowed the last of his spit. This is it, is it? The moment I will suss out the pirate's game.

The crew stood frozen, even the ship didn't make a sound, as if a sudden dead calm had cleared its sails. Jack pursed his lips, and scratched at his tattoo, not minding Wellington kept twisting his wrist.

James drew nearer to Jack. His chains clunked. The pirate ignored him though, like he was a stranded wreck not worth looking at anymore. Their captor though looked at him and a hard glint appeared in his blue eyes. "Fine." He let go of Jack's arm and turned to Red-eyes. "Release him."

Red-eyes obeyed, though his expression was grim and he mumbled something obscene under his breath.

Free of the chains, Jack rubbed his wrists and ankles. "Nothing's as important as freedom. Thanks, mate."

James couldn't believe this was happening. How did the pirate always get by? Why was he able to escape everything and everyone? Was he indeed able to leave him behind? Was his selfishness the secret of his reputation?

"Go now, before I change my mind," Wellington muttered, adjusting his waistcoat.

"Aye, Captain. I'm as good as gone." Without a glance in James' direction, he walked to the plank leading from the ship to the pier.

James couldn't stop himself from watching the pirate though, his throat was dry and his eyes were burning. Let the bastard go. He isn't your ally or friend, he never was, and never will be. He is not worth your suffering.

With only half of his breeches and his shirt, a blood-clotted bandage wrapped around his right leg, Jack Sparrow shuffled down the plank.

He didn't look dangerous, not in the slightest, James realized, feeling torn between bitterness and rage.

Wellington enunciated his thoughts. "Look at the famous Captain Jack Sparrow. Isn't he as fearsome as a scarecrow?"

That caused roaring laughter which lifted the silence from the ship and its crew.

James didn't laugh, his insides were bubbling, but not with laughter. He desired to wipe that smirk off Wellington's face, he yearned for Jack to turn around and come back. He wanted to get rid of the damn chains, which put the final nail in his coffin.

Jack kept limping down the plank, not minding any of them, leaving without pausing. He even started singing. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We kindle and char and inflame and ignite. Drink up me 'earties yo ho!"

James' mouth was feeling as raw as the sand on the island, Jack and he had been stranded on. Hadn't their time there meant anything to the pirate? The days, the nights, the... Well, why should it mean anything to him? Did it mean something to me? And when the answer is indeed yes, did I tell him? No, of course not. Well. That's it. I am alone now. My enemy is leaving me without any regret. Though regret is what I am feeling. He pressed his lips together. How did that happen, damn it? How did I-

He startled when Wellington was breathing into his ear. "I told you, you made the wrong choice. Now it's too late for you to favour me."

James cringed due to Wellington's closeness. He resisted to hit him, which would made things only worse.

Wellington didn't pull back. "Ramon, you and Red-eyes will bring our treasure here..." He let his fingers glide over James' cheek, "...to our place in town. Keep him there, I'll meet you later." The slimy fingers dropped off his skin and Wellington walked away.

Ramon grabbed James by the irons and pulled him forward. Red-eyes joined his left side. "Told you one day you'd be without your pirate-slut."

A shiver ran down James' spine but he kept his head up when he walked down the plank. What now? What can I do? Without a weapon, clapped in irons, no cunning pirate at my side, Sparrow had left without even looking back. In the end he proved I was right about him. Jack Sparrow is and always will be a bloody pirate. The only one he cares about is himself. Damn. He cursed the pirate for leading him on. Mostly he cursed himself for falling for his game.

Ramon dragged him through a maze of streets busy with folks of any kind. James didn't know this town, but he was sure, he knew this island. He couldn't figure out the name and location though. Not yet. Some people were staring at him. Men, women and children with faces in all shades of brown. Fragments of various languages were storming his ears, countless smells pestered his scent. The crowd was buying or selling food, gold, spices, clothes in all colours, carpets, weapons, water and rum. Right. Not long and Jack will be lying somewhere, drinking himself senseless with his favourite vice. That thought stung and he hated himself for caring at all. I shouldn't give a damn. I need to focus on myself. James slowed down.

Red-eyes ran into him. The brute gave him a hard push. James stumbled, and could barely stay on his feet; even so Red-eyes smashed his fist into his back again. Tremendous pain rushed through him. James swore. The weals hadn't even started to heal yet.

"Move, cutie," Red-eyes growled, and fumbled for his arm.

"Leave him alone!" Ramon snapped, guarding him.

Red-eyes whinged about the meddling though he obeyed reluctant.

What the hell? James wondered, staggering along. Ramon was by all means smaller and a lot less muscle-packed.

Shortly after his captors forced James to enter a shady drinking hole. He was hit by an overwhelming stench of rum and unwashed bodies, which reminded him of Jack again. Stop thinking about him, damn it. He is gone.

Ramon guided him into a corridor leading to a door, where the paint was peeling off. He pulled a key out, opened the door and ordered James to step into a small room with nothing in it. A storeroom.

Red-eyes pushed him to the ground. "Enjoy your last hour of freedom." He laughed. "Come on, Ramon. Let's get something to drink. I'm parched."

"Aye, I'll be right there."

"You want to have some fun with our cutie? You think the captain will like that?"

Ramon threw him a couple of coins. "Here, buy us some of the best."

Red-eyes shrugged. "You must know what you're doing, but you're playing with fire." He closed the door behind him.

Ramon shoved a hand into his breeches, fumbling around.

"I refused the advances of your bloody captain," James hissed, struggling to his feet. "I am not going to...."

"Not what I have in mind, mate." Ramon continued rummaging through his breeches. "I know, ye belong to Jack."

What? Frozen to the spot, James watched the search, ready to fight for his dignity. What is that supposed to mean?

"Ah. Here it is. The damn thing doesn't like me having it." In a swift move Ramon seized James' hand and put a shiny object on its palm.

A ring. One that James was familiar with. It had a green sparkling stone, as green as his own eyes. This was Sparrow's ring. No, Jack's. "Where did you get this?"

"From Jack, what do ye think?"

"How? Why?"

"It's a token to prove ye can trust me, to hold ye back from trying anything stupid. Making ye wait for the opportune moment, so to speak when Jack's coming to get ye. Savvy?"

That is a trick, right? A silly bet, made up by slave traders to amuse themselves by humiliating me yet more. James kept hold of the ring though.

Ramon moved to the door. "I have to go."

"Why... why are you helping me?"

"Jack is an old friend, and he fancies ye."

"You are wrong." James straightened up. "We hate each other."

Ramon winked at him. "Stick to that thought, if ye feel the need, even though it's obvious ye two have fallen for each other."

James shuffled his feet. The chains clunked. "We are worlds apart."

"Ye're lucky, he fancies ye. I never had a chance meself, which made me choose badly." He leered. "I have to go now. If me love finds me here, with ye alone, he'll spank me, though not in the naughty way." He shut the door and was gone.

James pushed himself into a corner to unburden his muscles. Jack is coming to get me. He is coming for me. I can't believe that, can I? Why should I believe a slave trader? He is scum. Right, but there is the ring. Sure, but maybe the thing was stolen from Jack. But how, and when? He leaned against the wall and turned the ring a few times. The simple exercise caused an irrational serenity in him. Irrational, because he hadn't any proof Ramon had told him the truth. Irrational, because even if it was the truth and Jack was coming to get him, what would happen then? Irrational for many more reasons, but he hadn't been reasonable for quite some time, had he? Jack's ring was the anchor in his storm of stirring feelings though. The anchor to calm him down. All right. He was willing to wait for that opportune moment. He was willing to put trust in his enemy. He settled on the ground to get some needed rest. I have no choice whatsoever anyway.

*****

James was pretty hungry and even thirstier when his captors were back. They brought neither food nor water with them but only Wellington. "The time has come, my dear friend. Your life will change forever, a fate worse than five strokes," the smug bastard baited him.

James clenched his fists and struggled to his feet.

Wellington chuckled. "You are angry, aren't you? You want to fight me? Prove your masculinity?"

"I don't need to," James brushed him off.

"That's a wise decision. Ramon! Lead the way."

James was glad he could leave the stifling room behind, even though an unsure fate was waiting ahead. Hurled back into the maze of narrow and sleazy alleys, he sought strength from the feeling of the ring burning in his fist. What was it, Ramon said? Wait for the opportune moment. When will that be? I am cuffed, surrounded by three men, and certainly we will reach the market place soon. What the hell is Sparrow's plan, anyway? He isn't that tall nor as muscle-packed as that scum Red-eyes, who is right behind me. What does he expect from me? Are there any options if he fails? With every step he took, James became a bit more discouraged. He braced himself for a rush flight and a possible bullet in the back.

A muffled cry startled him from his numbness. A sharp command cut through the midday heat. "Let him go, ye bastard."

Released from Ramon's grip he whirled around. What the hell? Can this be real?

Wellington captured, his head pulled back by the hair, a dagger scraping at his throat. A fine line of blood was marking the white skin already. Wellington's face was a grimace of fearful hatred, his eyes were dull with shock.

"Jack." Only a breath on James' lips, a sound hardly loud enough to get anyone's attention.

The pirate caught it anyway. "Aye. Come over here and get behind me."

Red-eyes jumped forward and blocked his way.

"Let him go. I'll cut yer captain's throat," Jack hissed, and bore the blade against Wellington's neck. The slave trader wriggled in his grip, the knife cut into his skin, and the first drops of blood dripped. Wellington cried out.

Jack grinned without mercy. "It would please me."

Red-eyes let James go, though he looked quite mad for being outflanked in such a simple way.

James shuffled over and got behind Jack. "Don't kill him." The thought of the dagger cutting through the cords and muscles leaving a gashing wound made him sick to the stomach.

"Eh? This scum wanted to sell ye as a slave. Don't ye want him dead?"

"I don't want you to slash his throat."

"I don't savvy." His grip on the blade didn't let up.

"I know." James didn't want any blood spilled. He just wanted to get out of here. Along with Jack. "Do you have the keys?"

"Nay. He'll have them on him. Search his pockets." Wellington stirred. Jack pushed the dagger a bit deeper, making the slave trader whine. "Ye're whining, eh? Certainly a lot more than he did with every stroke ye gave him ye bloody bastard. Ye think I've forgotten how full of glee ye were? Ye think I've forgotten one bloody second?"

Jack's cold tone concerned James. He searched Wellington's pockets as fast as possible. Would Jack kill Wellington if he didn't find the damn thing? Would he do the one deed he couldn't bear? There. The key. Thank god. He unchained himself and then cuffed Red-eyes and Ramon together to the iron bars of a window. The second chain he used to cuff Wellington as well. "It is done, Sparrow. Let him go."

Instead of doing that, Jack scribed Wellington's skin a bit more. Wellington gasped. Ramon's face turned as unmade as the belly of a gutted fish. Red-eyes swore and yanked at his chains.

James froze and time slowed. He feared the pirate would cut the slave trader's throat in spite of his successful rescue, spilling his rotten blood on the dirty street. That icy rage was something he had never seen nor expected on Jack. "Come on," he murmured, "such a coward is not worth smudging a fine blade."

Jack's lips twitched and he let Wellington go. "Aye. He's nothing but a dirty rat." The dagger vanished in his sash.

Wellington collapsed against the bars he was chained to, joining the fate of a mad looking Red-eyes and a wrecked Ramon.

"Why did you come back?" Wellington squawked. "He's your enemy. You said yourself, he wanted to kill you."

"Aye, he tried, at least a few times."

"So why?" Spittle flew from Wellington's mouth, the red cuts on his neck were sweating blood.

The pirate shrugged. "Nobody steals me treasure, savvy?" He turned to James. "Let's get out of here."

James nodded and followed him. Just now he figured that Jack was wearing a new pair of breeches as well as an unscathed shirt.

After they had turned a few corners in quite a hurry, Jack stopped by a barrel, from which he pulled out a corded bale. He untied it and threw James a shirt. "Here, for ye."

James put it on. A nearly perfect fit. "What else is in there?"

"Water and some bread."

"No rum?" James cocked an eyebrow.

Jack laughed, and patted a bottle attached to his sash. "Aye. A small amount to please meself."

"I reckon you stole all that?"

"Aye. What do ye think?" He offered him the bottle. "Drink. Ye need all yer strength."

James accepted the gracious offer. The burning liquor flowed down his throat giving him a push as invigorating as adrenaline.

Jack took the bottle back and, not minding to wipe the opening, he drank himself. "I'm sure Wellington has his men everywhere here in town. It's better to leave this rotten place at once." Even so he was still limping, Jack took the lead.

James went along, rubbing his swollen and hurting wrists. His ankles were worse though he felt rather amused than concerned by the course his life had taken in the last few days. I was saved by a pirate. My enemy. Twice. He came back for me only. Right, and you know why, don't you? No, I don't. Yes, you do. He called me his treasure. I am not sure if it is a good thing to be marked as 'treasure' though. Whatever Jack Sparrow's intentions are, I am not sure I like them. James touched the ring - Jack's ring - hidden in his breeches. The pirate hadn't asked for his property. Not yet. He fetched the ring and put it on his right index finger.

"James." Jack stopped and turned around. "Are ye coming?"

"All right! Don't make a fuss!" James quickened his pace. Do you think I would slip away behind your back? I don't want to. I know I am better off with you right now. He caught up to Jack and walked right beside him. "I am faster than you anyway."

"Oh, good. No worries then."

"Indeed."

*****

"Sparrow!"

That James still refused to call him by his first name never failed to amuse Jack. He stopped walking and faced his darling enemy. "Aye, Commodore?"

"I... we need to rest."

"Do we?" Jack said, already willing to just do that, but why miss out on some good-natured teasing.

"Yes, indeed." James pointed at his feet. "Couldn't you have stolen some boots as well?"

"Sorry, luv. I forgot that British officers aren't used to walking barefoot. I was in a hurry to boot to save ye from that terrible, molesting Wellington."

"Never mind. Can we at least rest for a bit?"

"Aye. Half a mile from here is the luvliest spot for resting," he purred, thinking of more pleasant things to do there. Brazenly he gazed up and down the length of James' body. The handsome face, the broad shoulders, the strong legs, the tempting privates. Blimey! Unspent yearning raced through Jack's groin. I'm smitten by you.

"Do you know this island?" James said, looking at the surrounding area.

"Aye, I've been here before. It's 'La Esmeralda'."

"It is? Why didn't I recognize it?"

"We're on the backside, the unpresentable side. Ye know this island then, eh?"

"Indeed, I do. Though a few years have gone by since I was here." A mysterious smile appeared on his lips.

What now? Jack squinted. "We're going to 'Port Corazón'. Ye know it?"

"Definitely." James was glowing; and appeared much younger, almost like a boy.

He smiled back with honest affection. "Good. We'll be there in a few hours. But if we have to rest, we will." He walked on, hiding how much his injured leg was still bothering him. Aye. He was longing for a break himself. Would he admit that to James? Nay. He knew it wasn't clever to rest here and now. Just a few hours had passed since they had escaped Wellington and his men. Since then, they had crossed the blooming island on a narrow path, hiding from people they might meet otherwise. All sorts of trees lined the path through the green jungle and all sorts of animals screamed in their crowns. The air was hot and damp and the footway stony and overgrown with weeds. Not convenient for miles of walking.

He scratched at the itching wound on his thigh. Bloody shark. At least the cut had closed, hence he was healing. If he only had some rum left. The small amount he had stolen was gone. He shouldn't have shared with James. He smiled. Nah, I enjoyed sharing with him. What's worse, we also drank and ate the water and bread I stole. Well, we lacked plenty of food and drinks long enough. We need to find more as well as some shelter. Turning the next curve, he glanced to the left and to the right, then he pushed through a bunch of merged bushes. The rustling behind him affirmed that James followed him straightaway. A few more feet and they vanquished the tiresome scrubland and reached the place Jack had remembered.

A hidden green spot, composed of a waterfall running down over a bunch of rocks plunging into a lake, enclosed by lush grass. The lake glittered in the light of the sun, which was breaking through the trees and bushes surrounding the place. Ah. In wonder Jack inhaled the smell of the moist earth lingering in the air. It was a lovely place indeed that reminded him of a beautiful emerald. Aye. This island was entitled to its name. He caught James' perplexed stare. "Ain't it a comfy green paradise?"

James growled and marched to the spraying waterfall. Holding out his hands, he sampled the water from it and drank in greedy gulps.

Jack joined his side and slaked his thirst in the same way. "How's yer back, mate?"

"Tolerable."

"Let me see." He plucked James' shirt out of his breeches.

"Don't bother. I am fine." James didn't push him away though; he even pulled his shirt over his head, showing his back to him. "Well?"

Jack looked over the mistreated back. The weals of the flogging were sealed but still red and swollen. It would take some time to make them disappear. "Looks all right to me. I think ye'll keep only a few fetching scars."

James snorted.

"Though it can't hurt to clean them one more time." He couldn't believe how hard it was for him not to touch James already. Aye. He desired to caress the scars and bad memories away.

"All right." James stepped under the curtain of water, exposing his face to the streaming band of refreshment. In an arousing pose, he let the cool liquid run into his mouth and down over his body, soaking himself.

Oh well! Anything ye do turns me on. Jack's pulse quickened. Blimey!

In a flash James' body dripped with water and his wet breeches stuck to his skin, revealing every muscle beneath.

Jack gulped. Ah, m'dear Jem, aren't ye a handsome lad. Stripped of yer uniform and the trappings of yer life ye're bloody irresistible. His cock stirred and twitched at the delicious sight of James, all wet and shiny. He kneaded the growing bulge and smiled in anticipation. Do ye know how much I want ye? Are you using all yer charms to bedevil me or are ye simply unaware of yer amazing attraction?

James kept busy cooling his body, and mirrored Jack as he shoved a hand down his breeches, rubbing his crotch with visible relief.

The bold intimacy in front of him, encouraged Jack to reach out and touch him.

"Sparrow!" James hissed, sparkles of fire in his ocean-green eyes. Though he removed Jack's left hand unhurried from his hip.

"Jack, if it pleases ye. Ye already said it. Twice."

"That is not the point. Don't touch me."

"No worries, luv. I only want to ease yer pain."

"I have no pain."

As if! Jack brushed his hand over James' pale cheek and felt a quiver. "Are ye sure?"

"Stop that." Though he didn't do anything to ward Jack off.

"I can't," he murmured, and bestowed a lingering kiss to one of James' shoulders.

"Pirate," James grumbled.

"Aye," he agreed, leaning in to nibble at the softness under James' chin. Despite all the water streaming over his body, he was feeling hot and too aroused to stop. The mighty throbbing of his rapid erection amazed him.

"Let me be," James whispered, putting his hands on Jack's shoulders.

If to push him away or hold on was uncertain. "Why?" He played with the wet laces of James' breeches.

"I am barely in any condition...."

He chuckled. "As far as I know it's better to get ye out of those breeches, eh?" He pressed a demanding hand against James' bulging crotch. "See? Like last time, ye don't mind at all."

"Last time I was sleeping and dreaming of Tommy."

"Aye, but aren't ye all tired and exhausted? Just try and make me stop."

A strange noise broke from James' throat. He laughed. Well, it sounded more like dry barking but still... "Bloody pirate."

"That's right." The beaten insult had become an endearment to Jack's ears, hence he tightened his grip. Aw. Feeling James' pure need, which equalled his own, he nuzzled and squeezed the member with wily subtlety. The response was just as undeniable needy, reminding him of the first time he touched James. Impressive. Impressive indeed. "I've waited for the opportune moment long enough, don't ye think?"

James arched into his touch. "Oh God. What is it with you? Why can't you leave me alone?"

"That's why, luv." He changed his course, was rubbing the hard length faster, using the wet fabric as delightful friction.

"Jack - please," James gasped, bucking his hips.

"Aye, say me name, say it." He increased pace and pressure even more.

"Ah... damn you. This is not right."

"Rubbish!" Jack sank down to his knees. "Ye sound more than right to me." Determined he fingered the laces open, longing to free James' eager member, to suck him to heaven. He raised his eyes to James, giving him a confident grin. "Well, if it makes ye feel better, nothing of this is yer fault, luv. Giving in to me, I mean. It's me gift..."

"Indeed!" James tore his breeches free, spun around and ran to the edge of the lake.

Still kneeling, Jack saw him jumping in, while he finished talking to himself, "...making people want me." Aye. Instead of making out with a gorgeous man, I condemned me hard-on to suffering. He downright sulked watching James diving under. "Bugger! Jack! You mucked that up." He got to his feet. "Sure! Let's take a bath to cool off." I need that, aye, or I have to spank me monkey to ease me pain. In his clothes he jumped in, and was spewing water when he came back to the surface. He started swimming towards James then, actually just flailing his arms and legs to get rid of his painful arousal.

James saw him and bunked off.

Jack couldn't describe it any better. For a few minutes they played tag in the lake. Every time he came close, James out-manoeuvred him. He was by far the better swimmer. Fair enough! Jack got bored and gave up. He left the water and refilled the two bottles he carried with him at the waterfall. He then found himself a place on the soft green grass to sit down. He pulled the dagger out with which he had threatened to cut Wellington's throat. He spotted some impurities and rubbed them off with a part of his sash. Presenting his back to the lake, he paid James' further actions no attention. That wasn't easy but he had some pride left. He wouldn't beg to suck a man's cock. That would be the bloody day! A fresh tickle in his groin told him James had decided to come out of the water. So what? He kept on polishing the dagger.

James took the place next to him and put his shirt back on. Shortly he watched Jack doing his work. He cleared his throat then. "Did you get your effects back?"

"Aye." He patted his pockets and sash. "Though me dagger is less valuable than me compass. Wellington was indeed careless to carry me property on him." He shrugged. "He was just as malicious. Why didn't ye want me to kill the bloody bastard?" he said, still displeased that James wasn't as grateful for the risky rescue as he should be.

"Cutting a man's throat from behind isn't the way I want to see anyone to die."

Oh! Jack pricked his ears. "Did ye ever do it to someone?"

"No. You?"

"No, but I would have, he deserved it for what he did to ye."

"I didn't want you to."

"Cutting a man's throat isn't more despicable than hanging a man by his neck," he said, putting the dagger away. "Or a woman."

James swallowed. "Your mother?"

"One day, me dad's ship was caught and boarded by the British Navy. The entire crew was captured and sent to the gallows. Me mum and dad were hanged in front of me."

"Dear God."

"Aye, yer holy British Empire and Navy made me watch to teach me a lesson. I was eleven years old."

Silence. James crossed his legs and plucked at the lush grass.

"The lesson didn't work out too well, eh?" Jack spread his arms. Just look at me.

"I am sorry."

Jack showed him the branding on his arm. P for pirate. "They gave me this then to remind me forever of this horrific day. I stabbed the officer who ordered the execution when I escaped."

"Did you kill him?"

"I don't know. I was too scared and angry and in a hurry."

"Did you want to kill him?"

"Back then? As sure as hell. Today I don't know anymore. He was only following orders. Killing someone isn't easy for me. It never was. I didn't become a pirate to kill people. Finding treasure was always the most important and best thing in me life. Not piracy itself."

"Is that all you can think about?" James growled. "Silver and gold."

"Treasure isn't always about silver and gold, luv," Jack murmured, licking his lips.

James dropped his gaze. He looked sad. No, not sad - lost.

Jack leaned into him. "James, I didn't mean what I said. I was only teasing ye. I told ye once; I was always rooting for ye."

"I know."

Good. Come on now. He seized James' hand and was surprised to find his ring with the green stone on the index finger.

James brushed his hand aside, and pulled the ring off as well. "I think this belongs to you."

"Aye." He took his most precious property and slipped it over his right index finger. "Ye knew it was mine then."

"Not straight away."

"Though ye believed Ramon that I was coming to get ye."

"Not quite. After all, he is a slave trader."

"Aye, but he's also an old friend."

"I reckoned that."

The sudden coldness in James' eyes and voice made him pursue the matter. "Do ye know what Ramon told me about ye?"

"How should I? You didn't want to tell me."

"He said, ye're keen on me." He couldn't help to sound thrilled.

James tensed. "Well, as your lover, he might be jealous."

He laughed. "Ramon isn't me lover. He's Wellington's sweetheart. That's why Ramon was eager to get rid of ye."

"I see. But in the past...."

"Ramon was never me lover. I never fancied him."

"Hard to believe. Handsome as he is."

Aw, there ye have it. "Me dear Commodore, if I were only looking for a pretty face, I would have taken Will."

James jumped to his feet. "I am certain Mr. Turner would be delighted to share your bed."

Jack chuckled. "Ye think so?"

"This conversation is getting ridiculous."

"And yet more interesting," Jack countered, sparked with plenty of spirits again.

"We need to keep moving," James changed the subject. "We are lucky Wellington and his men haven't caught up to us yet. We have to reach 'Port Corazón' as soon as possible. We need to find a ship to sail away from here."

"Agreed," Jack said, and didn't point out it had been James' idea, well need, to take a rest. Though that was not important all things considered. He adjusted the dagger in his sash. "Let's go." Back-to-back he and James marched back to the small path they had come from. James had taken the lead and Jack didn't mind. He was gratified with the opportune moment to watch James' fine arse. Playing hard to get, eh? Maybe ye're right. There's no fun in having treasure thrown at yer feet. The search for it, the hunt, is the greatest pleasure. Aye, I've found me some but the box is still closed. I don't have the key to open it to take a look at what's inside. Not yet, anyway, but I don't mind the waiting. Amazing treasure is a rare gift. It's worth the wait. He laughed.

James whirled around. "What?"

"Oh, nothing much, just a pirate's woolly thoughts," Jack soothed him, putting up an innocent face.

James frowned, then he kept going ahead.

Aye, ye're worth it, Commodore James Norrington. Jem. His silly heart brimmed over with excitement and fondness for this complicated lad. I'm mad, ain't I? He snorted. There's nothing I can do about that, eh?

*****

The sun had already set when they arrived in 'Port Corazón'. Jack passed James with the intention to guide them through the streets to the harbour.

James grabbed his arm. "No. This way."

"Eh? The harbour is to the left," Jack disagreed, though he savoured the sensation he experienced through James' fierce grip. Did the days on the island made me this pathetic? Or was I feeling this way even before?

"We are not going to the harbour, not straightaway. I know someone who lives here in town."

"Aye?"

"She will get us proper clothes and lend me some money to pay for a passage on a ship."

"Ye're certain she'll recognize ye?"

"Why shouldn't she?"

Jack winked at him. "Just look at ye, luv."

A sensational smile softened James' usual stern expression. "I am damn sure she knows who I am."

"She does, eh? Did Tommy know ye betrayed him?"

James chuckled, the sound made him even more attractive.

"Who's she?" Jack struggled through diverse sensations. James hadn't let go of his arm yet.

"She will like you, that is for sure."

"Everybody likes me, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

"Sure! Whatever!" James granted, digging his fingers into Jack's flesh.

"That's all ye got?" Jack urged him against the wall behind them. He wouldn't miss such an opportunity. He wouldn't let his enemy get away this time.

James' eyes turned as green as brilliant emeralds. He didn't fight Jack off nor did he say a word to stop him. He just exhaled, as if he hadn't left any strength to keep him at bay.

Ah, Jem, here and now, eh, in a back alley of all places. He leaned in for a kiss. Ye keep surprising me. "Are ye done fight-"

A sharp bang broke their intimacy and made them jump. A single pistol shot.

Sudden and extreme pain rushed through Jack's skull and he touched his forehead. Pulling his hand back, he was yet surprised to see it was smeared with blood. "Shiver me timbers!"

"JACK!!" James cried out.

He blinked, as blood dripped down his face. "I'm hit, eh?" He swayed on his feet as his vision darkened and the world blacked out.

*****

"JACK!!" James cried out, horror-stricken by the flow of blood running down Jack's face.

"I'm hit, eh?" Jack slurred and swayed on his feet. Then he sagged against James' chest.

James grabbed his limp body. "Jack, stay with me." Scarlet red stained both of their shirts.

"Get them!"

James' head jerked around.

Wellington and his men rushing towards them. Red-eyes aimed a pistol; the muzzle smoked.

Bloody hell! As quick as a flash, he entered the next narrow alley, dragging Jack along with him. Thank God, Jack is this slender. Blood was still spilling out from the injury on Jack's head, coursing down his face. "Jack," James whispered, distressed, because despite the pirate's light weight it was hard to keep hauling him along all the way.

"What's going on?" Jack murmured, semi-conscious.

"Wellington is chasing us. Hang on! The woman I told you about lives nearby."

"Lead on!" Jack was clinging to him but running with his own feet.

"Stay awake!" James pleaded and turned to the left. A few yards down a narrow street he made the next turn and came to a wide road with beautiful-looking houses. The homes of wealthy people. James remembered where to go, though it had been a long time since he had been here. Just a few more feet. "Here it is." Jack's breathing had become alarming. James didn't know how severe he was wounded. Head injuries always bled plenty. In a hurry, he climbed up the stone stairs to a white-coloured building. It was smaller than other houses and only two floors high, but neat and tidy looking. No unnecessary bits and pieces degraded its perfect structure. James leaned Jack against the blue-painted door and rapped the knocker. He looked back over his shoulder to check for a sign of their hunters. There was none. The road was almost empty, only a few people were seen, but everyone was minding their own business.

"They'll never let us in here," Jack muttered, sounding exhausted but also amused.

"They will."

The door opened. A butler appeared and flinched back, visibly disgusted by their appearance. He tried to shut the door, but James put his bare foot in the gap. "Tell Mrs. O'Neal Commodore James Norrington is here to see her."

The servant's jaw dropped. "Sir! My apologies. I did not recognize you."

"No harm done, Daniel."

Without further ado Daniel led them into the hallway and closed the door. "Wait here."

"We are safe now." James still supported the pirate.

Mrs. O'Neal rushed into the hallway; her brown curls nodded briskly. "James! Good Heavens! All the blood! Are you hurt?"

"No, Sarah. But my... friend needs prompt help."

The pirate chuckled.

Sarah O'Neal raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"Don't pay attention to his silly behaviour. It's urgent. We have to stop the bleeding."

"Come this way." Sarah led them up to the first floor to a tidy room with an untouched bed.

James lowered Jack down on the white linen.

"I will fetch clean water and cloths." She rushed away.

James yanked his shirt over his head and tore it apart.

"Another shirt ruined," Jack joked, yet he was gawking at him.

"Shut up," James scolded, and tried to locate the source of the bleeding. He pushed off the bandana, but the mass of Jack's hair complicated the search. He didn't succeed and pressed his shirt to Jack's blood-smeared forehead.

"No harm done to ol' Jack. Just another scar. We have much bigger problems on our hands. What if Wellington traces me streak of blood and finds us here?"

"Hardly. Our shirts soaked all the blood."

"Ye look unwell yerself. Were ye worried?"

"About what?"

"I could have died."

James snorted. "Rubbish! You are talking way too much to be in any danger. The bullet only grazed you."

"But the moment I got shot?"

Yes, I was worried, bloody pirate. I was terrified. I am stupid enough taking care of you, didn't I? "Not at all. You are nothing I would lament being rid of."

"Ye say that, but ye don't mean it." Jack fumbled for his hand and succeeded.

"Damn it, Sparrow, this is not the time..."

"Jack," the pirate insisted, thumbing James' wrist. "I heard ye shouting me name when the bullet hit me. Don't deny it."

"I didn't want to cause a stir by calling you Sparrow, given your notoriety," he prevaricated, tearing his wrist from Jack's grip.

Sarah was back and put a bowl of water, white cloths and some scissors on the table.

James stood up to make room for her. Come down, damn it. He is not in any way suffering. He is rather enjoying this.

"I am Sarah O'Neal. Who are you?" She started to clean Jack's face and his hair.

"That is Jack Sparrow," James said, to say anything at all and to cope with his infuriation.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," the pirated corrected him with unwearied stubbornness.

James sighed. "Yes, yes."

Sarah smiled. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Captain Jack Sparrow. I heard a lot about you."

"Aye?" Jack's eyes widened. "I heard less to nothing about ye."

She shrugged. "Well, you know James. Always keeping his secrets."

"Stop that," James snapped, "both of you."

"I like her." Jack winked at him.

"That's good." Sarah was finished with the cleaning. "I have to cut your hair to find the source of the bleeding."

Jack bolted up. "Don't ye dare!"

She didn't even flinch. "Only a few strands to cleanse the wound properly, it will prevent an infection. It has to be done."

James put a hand on the pirate's shoulder. "Come on, Jack, don't be silly."

Jack blinked. "What did ye say?"

"Do as she says, Jack. Sarah is good with this. In the past, she took care of me many times."

"All right then." Jack leaned back, resting his head on the pillow. "If ye hold me hand."

James flushed. "Definitely not. I will gladly knock you unconscious though."

"James, behave yourself," Sarah snubbed him but the look in her brown eyes was soft. Just as soft she cut Jack's hair at the right side of his hair line. One strand was clipped and fell - two strands - an unhappy sigh escaped the pirate - three strands - "I am almost done," she said and cut the fourth strand. "All good." She leaned back and her elbow connected with Jack's thigh.

"Mind me leg, darling. A bloody shark took a big bite out of it," he alarmed her.

She pulled back. "Sorry. That must have been an awful experience."

"Not quite," he said, and a wicked smile grazed his lips.

James snorted, remembering the particular pleasure Jack had experienced that day too well.

Sarah put the scissors away. "You are one lucky mate, Jack. The injury is only shallow. It is quite possible the mass of your hair saved your life."

Jack looked at James. "See, it's worth wearing it, luv."

James noticed Sarah's surprise, though Jack's impertinence of calling him love didn't bother him anymore. Least of all in front of Sarah who knew him better than anyone. "So it would seem, pirate." He spoke the insult in the softest voice, making it rather sound like an intimate tease.

His lifelong confidant and his unique ally stared at him.

Bugger! "You should rest. A head injury is always serious, no matter how superficial," James rushed on. Such a stupid slip of the tongue.

Sarah turned her attention back to Jack, bandaging his head as good as possible. "Exactly. I will come back later to check on you and bring you some food and water."

"I will do that myself," James said gruffly.

"Bring some rum," Jack cheered.

"We will see," James replied graciously.

Sarah was finished. "Give me your shirt, Jack. It is ruined."

"It's stolen anyway, darling." With Sarah's help, Jack slipped out of the shirt. "So is James'."

"Is it?" she said, a twinkle in her eyes. "Okay. Get some rest." She fetched a blanket from the wardrobe across from the bed and covered Jack up.

"Thank ye, darling." Jack beamed at her.

"We will check on you in a little while." She took the soiled clothes and accompanied by James she left the room.

"I'm waiting for ye, James," the pirate called out.

James didn't reply and Sarah didn't comment the odd exchange while they walked downstairs. Sarah handed the bloody shirts to the maid. "Burn them, Jane. Bring a clean shirt from my husband's clothes for the Commodore." Jane nodded and rushed off.

Sarah and James entered the parlour and there, at last alone, the two friends hugged dearly. "James, it is so good to see you," she rejoiced. "May I say you look just awful but also quite dashing."

He laughed. "Well, thank you. I reckoned you would say something like that. Jack thought you wouldn't even recognize me." He dropped down on the sofa and viewed the room. It hadn't changed. Small but bright and comfortable it made him always feel like coming home. A book rested unfinished on the table.

Sarah rang the bell to call the servant. "Me? Unable to recognize you? That will never happen." She joined him on the sofa and closed the book.

"I told him so." He took a good look at her appealing face.

She eyed him just the same. "So, I certainly know who Jack Sparrow is after you have written me that much about him. What the hell happened to you and him?"

He shrugged. "It is a long story."

"I have plenty of time. Patrick is at sea and I am bored."

"How is your husband?"

"He is fine. We are fine. I didn't regret I've married an Irish," she joked. "Not giving a damn about what my father once predicted."

The door opened, and Daniel looked in. "You rang, madam?"

"Bring some tea for me and the Commodore, please. A bottle of rum as well."

Daniel didn't show he might take offence in James' bare chest and feet. "Yes, madam." He left.

"People will talk," James said, reading the title on the spine. His breath hitched. This book of all things. Such a peculiar coincidence.

"Even if? I don't care, neither does Patrick," she soothed him. "Who the hell did that to your back?"

James had almost forgotten about the flogging. "Like I said it is a long story..."

"Well, like I said I have plenty of time."

Come on, you know how she is. She will never let you go away with such a story. "Well, there was a battle..."

One hour later, he came to the end of his strange adventure. "...we fled to your doorstep and here we are." He sipped his tea and leaned back, properly dressed in Patrick's shirt. It was a bit too small for him but sufficient under the extraordinary circumstances.

"My dear James that was one hell of an adventure. Now tell me what you have left out."

"I haven't..." He broke off. Well, he had left out quite a bit. Kissing, sucking, hot desperate feelings.

"I am not stupid, James. I see what is going on. The looks. The words."

"Sparrow..." He cleared his throat. "...Jack calls many people love. That doesn't mean anything."

"Is that right? How many of them are Commodores in the British Navy?"

"He doesn't obey society rules."

"I see. He is just like Tommy, isn't he?"

"No, he is not. He is nothing like Tommy, he is my enemy and I am..."

"...crazy about him," she finished, rolling her eyes. "You haven't changed. Always in denial." She touched his arm. "Did you sleep with him?"

"No, I haven't." I would have though.

"You can't lie to me, James. You never did and you never had to."

"Sarah, I swear to you, I didn't."

"That doesn't mean it can't happen, right?"

The sly smile on her lips, the teasing sparkle in her eyes made him chuckle. "Even if I feel anything for him it isn't appropriate."

She clicked her tongue. "That is my father talking. Tommy wouldn't agree."

"No, he wouldn't have. In the end, though, he paid the price for his recklessness."

"That is true, but you are not like Tommy. You were always a good man. It is time for your loneliness to end. Find some new happiness before it is too late." She hugged him once more and kissed him on the cheek.

He held on to her. Memories of his childhood filled his mind and his heart. Happy memories of laughter and friendship. He pulled back and pointed at the wall behind her. "I see, you still have the painting."

"Of course. I would never get rid of it. Little James Norrington was such a sweet boy."

"Rubbish."

"He still is." She raised her teacup. "That is why I send you upstairs to get some rest. I will continue bothering you later."

He stood up. "Yes, I am tired. We haven't managed any rest for some time."

She sniggered and spilled her tea. "I can imagine."

He flushed. "As if!" He escaped further teasing by fleeing into the hallway. There he was startled by Daniel standing only a few feet away, wearing a straight face. James gave him a quick nod and continued his flight by rushing upstairs. I hope the guy wasn't eavesdropping. When he passed the room where Jack rested, he stopped in his tracks. He listened if he could catch a sound behind the door, while he fumbled with the laces of his breeches. Don't act like a silly cadet. God damn it. Pull yourself together. He heard nothing though. Not the tiniest sound. Go to your room. Let it go. You need to rest. He made one step forward. Maybe he isn't even in there anymore. Could be, he fled the first second he had the chance. James grabbed the door handle and pushed it down. He opened the door and slipped into the room. He caught his breath at the captivating sight that was putting his mind at ease.

Jack was sleeping on his back, breathing soundlessly, his spared braids were sprawled over the pillow. Just in case of a possible threat his face was directed at the door. Suddenly he shifted and moaned. It didn't sound like pleasure.

James closed the door and approached the bed, looking at the strained expression of the pirate. Is he having a nightmare? He touched Jack's shoulder, rubbing it gently.

The pirate tore his eyes open and bolted up.

James grabbed Jack's bare arm. "It is me. Nobody is going to hurt you. We are safe."

Jack stared at him. "Who gave ye that shirt, eh? It's way too small for ye." He chuckled and sank back into the cushions. He didn't complain about James' tight grip on his arm.

"I heard you groaning. Are you in pain?"

"Why shouldn't I be? Me leg was almost bitten off, me head met with a bullet and me blood longs for rum since forever," Jack lamented, plucking at the bandage around his head.

"That bad?"

"Aye." Jack sprawled. "Me whole body hurts - mostly me balls."

That cheeky bastard! "What do you need?"

"Someone to scratch me tender spots."

He let go of Jack's arm. "Fine."

"Eh? Ye mean that?"

"Yes, Mister Sparrow. Turn on your stomach."

The pirate obeyed in a jiffy and threw the blanket off. He wasn't even complaining about James calling him 'Mister' Sparrow.

How eager he is to get me into bed. He repressed a laugh, was even pleased by the thrilling stir in his groin. Well then! He put his hands on Jack's back. That alone earned him a delighted sigh. "I haven't started yet."

"Ye touched me."

"You aren't easy, are you?" he joked and nuzzled the tanned back with circular strokes.

"Why now? What has changed?"

"Don't get the wrong idea, Sparrow. I am only giving you a massage to ease your pain and make you feel better."

"Whatever. Just keep doing it."

James went up to the neck, hidden under a bunch of braids. He slipped under them and eased the strained muscles with gentle pressure.

"Aye... that feels good... keep going, give me all ye got."

The outright begging went straight to his heart. He increased the pressure on Jack's muscles. The subtle way the braids tickled his skin and the hearty way Jack expressed his joy added a lot of fuel to the sensations in his groin. He clenched his jaw to supress his feelings and focused on the stroking along Jack's spine. Though the feverish, quivering flesh under his hands boosted his needs even more. He couldn't hold back anymore. He bent down to put an endearing kiss on the delicate spine, and brushing his lips longingly over the warm skin, he was sliding further down.

"That's what I wanted... for so long...aye, so long..."

Sod it! James pulled back and kneaded Jack's back. The throbbing in his groin made him shiver. Hence he increased the pressure still.

"Ah," Jack groaned, wriggling his ass.

"What is it, Mister Sparrow? Aren't you feeling any better?"

"Nay, ye forgot to touch me most important spots."

"Is that so?" he mumbled, and was shocked by having the dearest feelings for his enemy.

"Aye." Jack flipped on his back and showed off his erection.

"Never shy to show your needs, are you, Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jack wasn't shy indeed, just started rubbing himself off. "Hardly. Does that offend ye, luv?"

James pinched one of Jack's perky nipples.

The pirate sucked his breath. "More."

"Very well." James rubbed the nipple between two fingers.

Jack moaned and cupped his eager cock, rubbing the length to hardness.

James' eyes fastened on the unashamed exhibition. "I want to taste you."

Jack's stopped giving himself a treat. "If it pleases ye?" He freed his piece of flesh.

The sight of his sprawled body seduced everyone of James' senses. He wanted to bury himself in the body of the pirate; he wanted to drown in his intoxicating scent. He kept on rubbing the nipples though, and then he put plenty of kisses and licks on Jack's chest. Jack arched into him and James tongued his way around the tanned skin and the cheeky bellybutton. Jack tasted and smelled like rum and salt, the distinct flavour of the Caribbean. A taste he had always liked and didn't mind savouring now and forever.

A couple of groans slipped through Jack's lips. "Bloody hell..."

James nipped a line along Jack's groin, pulling the breeches further down, exposing more of the pirate.

"...for someone who doesn't do this frequently..."

He nipped at the appealing hip bone.

"...ye know how to light a fire."

"Indeed? Uptight as I am? No fun lies in there?"

Jack sniggered. "Will ye stop this, silly? I told ye I was lying."

James entangled Jacks laces like a shot. Just as fast he pulled the pirate's breeches down to the ankles, though he minded the injured leg. He stared at Jack's full blossomed arousal then, nibbling on his lip. "Mm."

Jack made the funniest face. "Eh? Ye saw it before."

"Not quite." He wallowed in the sight of Jack's pretty member. He got yet harder, though fear mingled into his lust. Fear of what he was going to do. What would become of him when he let himself get involved with a pirate? Right. He was going down a forbidden path, a path he couldn't come back from ever. "Are you longing for a quick release, Captain Jack Sparrow?" he quipped, hiding his inner turmoil.

"Do I have to beg?" Jack's hips rose, his cock pointed at James.

"Not at all." James bent down to kiss Jack's hairless thighs. A row of whimpers came to his ears and he smiled. He was licking Jack everywhere then but at the one spot. He longed to hear the next plea. He longed for his surrender. Not in vain.

"James," the pirate purred, petting his hair. "I want ye. I've always wanted ye. Touch me, please."

"Asking so nicely..." James seized Jack's cock, cradling the balls.

Jack gasped. "Aye, James, aye, take me, make me yers."

In high spirits he rubbed Jack's moistened length, though deliberately slow.

Jack's hips rose higher. He shoved his hard-on right under James' lips. "Come on! What ye're waiting for? Suck the filthy pirate clean."

James' tongue shot out and tipped Jack's hardened flesh.

"Aye," Jack groaned, bucking his hips.

Jack's flavour reminded him of rum as well, and a rush of excitement ran through James' veins. He fastened his grip on Jack's cock, though he didn't keep on licking him.

"Come on, James, give me more. I need more."

He gazed at Jack's needy member. The olive-coloured flesh, the throbbing veins, the neat foreskin.

"Please," the pirate whispered, clinging to James' arms. "Go down on me."

How can he feel that way about me? I am the enemy. I sent him to the gallows. I was ready to watch him die. Since that day I fight him and still...he wants me. He begs me to do the most intimate treat you can give to a man. The hard-on in his hand twitched and jerked. The black eyes of Jack Sparrow looked at him. Those mysterious, beautiful and daring eyes. Oh, how much I... He gave another lick to the delicious tasting cock, swirling his tongue around the crown.

"Suck me, aye, suck me." Jack pushed his hips up. "Make me give up me treasure."

James swallowed the head and squeezed the shaft with care.

"Aye." Jack bent back and closed his eyes.

Good heavens! Does he really want to be mine? He let go of the cock, licking his lips, considering what this moment meant for his future. Would sucking off a pirate change his life? His fate? What would he lose?

Jack clawed at James' shirt.

"Mind the shirt."

"Mind me cock," Jack growled, thrusting his hips.

James repressed a smile and sucked the length down to the root.

Jack grabbed his shoulders. "For fuck's sake. Suck me clean, Commodore." He pushed his cock deeper in James' mouth and James gobbled him up. Jack's shaft quivered and James strained his muscles to enforce the pressure. At the same time, he nuzzled Jack's balls with his fingertips. A satisfied grunt made him go faster. Soundly he sucked on the needy flesh, digging his nails into Jack's fine arse.

Jack thrust his hips. "Come on, come on, don't hold back."

James let go and fought for his breath.

"Nay, damn it, don't ye let up... ye bugger!"

"Such caterwauling." James smirked and enclosed Jack's cock again, ready to finish what he had started.

"Aye... suck me... me luv, me darling enemy," Jack chanted, wriggling his arse and hips.

The shaft in James' mouth swelled further up. Just a few more drags on the keen piece and a rush of insisting pressure was forcing its way out of the cock's tip. James tightened his grip, pumping and sucking with all his strength. Ah. There. A fierce spurt hit the back of his throat.

"Ah... God... James... shiver me timbers," Jack squealed, shaking.

James emptied the pirate, feeling his body shuddering in his release. He continued milking him until Jack groaned and pushed him off.

"That was incredible. What else don't ye do frequently?" Jack muttered. His black eyes sparkled.

The undeniable look of victory made James come back to his senses. Dear God. Am I mad? What life will he and I have? He jumped up and stormed out of the room.

"James, what the hell...?"

He didn't stop running until he was alone in the bedroom that Sarah had given to him. His aching cock reminded him of the hunger Jack had risen in him. A craving that needed to be sated. He ripped his breeches open and jerked himself off right on the spot. In a frenzied hurry he came to his release, though his climax felt more like pain than pleasure. Damn! Gasping, he cleaned himself at the washbowl. Not in the least satisfied he slipped under the blankets of the bed. Weak. I am weak for a bloody pirate. I hate to feel like this. I don't want to desire him. Sarah is right. He is like Tommy. Tommy had so many lovers. I did share him way too often. I don't want to be one of Jack's lovers. I don't want to go through such hell again. He tried to sleep; tried to ban Sparrow from his body and mind. In vain. The longing for Jack Sparrow held him captive and the pleasant pain kept tormenting him. He buried his face into the pillow, trying to hold back bitter tears. That was as much in vain as to ignore his need for a second round of joy. Bugger! A fresh wave of lust controlled him, and he groaned in despair. I am in love. Fuck. Oh fuck.

*****

"Come back here!" Jack jumped up and dropped back on the bed, entangled in his breeches. "Bloody hell, James Norrington, what's yer problem?" He jerked his breeches up, not minding the pain in his leg and his head. Still fighting with his laces, he limped to the door. The second, he fumbled for the door handle it was pushed down from the other side. He's coming back, Jack rejoiced. He couldn't leave me high and dry. He wants me-

Though it was Sarah O'Neal entering the room, not James. She was holding a tray. "Captain Sparrow, I see you are feeling much better already." Her tone was as gentle as a breeze.

Jack huffed, and retreated to the bed, closing the laces of his breeches.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, darling, everything's perfectly fine."

A clever smile enchanted her face. "Is it? Why was James running then?"

"He was running, eh?" Jack shrugged. "I can't imagine why."

"Don't you?"

He dropped on the bed. "Ye're some woman, darling."

"Indeed. I was told so often." She put the tray on the bedside table and sat down next to Jack. "Don't you intend to follow James?"

He blinked, considering. "Nay," he said at last, snatching a biscuit from the tray. "He doesn't want me to."

"Are you sure?"

He scratched his leg. The bandage was itching.

"Don't." She grabbed his hand. "You will get an infection."

"I fear I'm already infected."

She laughed. "I figured that."

"Did ye? Am I that obvious?"

"No, but James is."

"Oh!" She had piqued his curiosity. "What did he do?"

"He told me everything, Captain Sparrow."

"Nah." He didn't fall for her trick. "I highly doubt that."

"I doubt it either." She winked at him, like they were allies in a strange game.

"Ye know him well, aye?"

"Very well."

"Are ye in love with him?"

She let go of his hand. "No longer. I was once, a long, long time ago. I was young and naive. It took me some time to figure out that I didn't have a chance at all."

"It didn't take me long to figure out I didn't have a chance at all meself." He took a hungry bite from his biscuit.

"Mm." She watched him closely. "You are wrong."

"He hates me," he disagreed, chewing.

She shook her head. "James is crazy about you."

He shrugged. "Even if he is, he'd never admit it to me."

She sighed. "That is Tommy's fault."

Eh? He swallowed his biscuit. "Ye knew Tommy?"

"Sure!" She gave him a peculiar look. "If you are referring to Thomas Mallory, that is."

"Probably. I don't know his family name." Mallory! That's why James used that name for his fake identity. "I was told he was a nice and decent boy."

She snorted. "Tommy? Decent?"

He pricked his ears. "So I was told, darling." James never said that. It was me own assumption. "Wasn't he?"

"Don't misunderstand me. Everybody loved and adored Tommy, most of all James." The colour of her eyes darkened as if she was about to start crying. "But Tommy was reckless and unfaithful, always unpredictable. His death was partly his own fault, though, he didn't deserve such a cruel end." Her lips trembled. "Nobody does." She paused and took a deep breath.

He touched her arm. "Me sorry."

She gave him a nod and turned silent.

He grabbed the bottle off the tray and poured himself a glass. Rum. She's a sweetheart. He knocked it back. "Ye've got good taste in rum."

She cleared her throat. "That lies in the family."

Aye? Who are ye? "Who's yer husband?"

"Lieutenant Patrick O'Neal," she said, beaming with pride.

Given that the name meant nothing to Jack, he changed the subject. "How'd Tommy die?"

"Sorry, but that is not my business to tell you."

"No harm done, luv." He poured himself a second glass.

"Fine." She stood up and stole a glance at his leg. "If it itches that much you should do something about it. I am sure James is eager to give you a hand."

He choked on his drink and coughed. "Shiver me timbers! Such language for a lady."

"This lady is famous for speaking her mind." She took the emptied tray and went to the door. "Give it a try. He is in the next room down the hall." She left him alone.

Jack watched the waving window curtains while he emptied half of the bottle and ate all the biscuits. She's right. Why don't I take me chances? Am I afraid to lose? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, ain't I? He scratched his leg. Bloody hell! It's itching badly. I need this taken care of. I need some proper treatment. He finished the bottle and sneaked out of his room and down the hallway. It was late. The house was silent. His bare feet made no noise as he was limping across the neat carpet. Just as soundless he slipped into James' room. Gloomy light and low sounds awaited him. Jack smiled. He knew the origin of such sounds. He remained by the door, listening with growing excitement. The room smelled of lust and desire as well.

"Jack," the jerking shape under the blanket whispered.

That was enough. Jack moved to the bed and got rid of his breeches. Hearing his name a second time, he slipped under the blanket to join James in his pleasures. "Don't ye think that's a bloody waste, luv?"

James bolted up. The blanket slid off both men and left them bare-chested. "Jack! What the hell?!"

"Eh?" Jack said, for once innocent. "I came here to ask for yer help." Well, almost. "I never expected..."

"Get out!" James snapped, crossing his arms.

Jack lifted the blanket and showed him his leg. The bandage made of James' shirt was a complete mess. "I need a change, don't ye think? Couldn't ask yer lady-friend, could I?"

James exhaled. "No."

"Ye wanna finish what ye've started first?" Jack nudged him.

"Shut up." James' face reddened.

"Don't mind me..."

"Hold still or I will hurt you." James pulled at the fabric around his thigh.

"Ouch!" Jack sniggered. "That's what I had in mind, luv." He shifted to give James better access. His arousal though, competed for James' attention as well.

James didn't show if he was in any way affected by his brazen exhibition. He fetched Jack's dagger from a drawer in the bedside table and cut the bloody shirt off.

"There it is," Jack said, stretching his body. "I thought I lost the thing."

James' lips were a thin line; his long eyelashes threw a delicate shadow on his rosy cheeks. He threw the soiled fabric on the ground. "It doesn't look too bad. It has begun to heal." He ripped the first thing in reach into fresh strips.

"Whose shirt's this?"

"It belonged to Sarah's husband."

"Neat." Jack enjoyed himself. "Wrap me up then."

James snorted. "Quiet." He fixed the fresh bandage around Jack's thigh.

"That's what I've needed," he murmured, keeping still. That's right. He was drawing hope from James' good deed.

Though when he was finished, James turned around to rest on his stomach. "I am done. Go now."

Leaving's not an option, luv. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. He wriggled himself onto James' back and licked the marks of the flogging.

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing yer scars better."

"You wanted to do that the day I got them, right?"

"Ah, Commodore. So sure of yerself." He didn't stop with his treatment though. He explored the weals in the most intimate way, caressing and teasing them with the tip of his tongue. Then he even dared to nip at the callused spots. The next second, he found himself on his back, the deadly blade put to his throat. He held his breath, looking into James' fierce, green eyes.

"I told you to leave me alone," James rasped. "Why do you never listen?"

"That's me way. Unspeakable filthy as I am."

"Shut up."

"Arrr. I like it when ye order me round."

"You should be in bed."

"I am."

"Resting."

"I need more of yer medicine to get better."

"Stop being ridiculous."

"I heard ye saying me name."

"Do you want me to cut your throat?"

"Nay." Jack wetted his lips. "I just want to feed yer and me hunger..." The glittering blade pressed harder against his flesh. "...please..." The dagger glided down and met with his cock.

"I could cut it off," James said, a strange tone in his voice. Was he choking on tears? Was he fighting himself? He caressed the pirate's hard-on with the sharp blade.

"Aye, but no fun lies in that."

"Filthy... impossible... irresistible... pirate..." James faltered. The dagger was gone. It landed with a distinct clatter on the ground. James pulled him into his arms then. A hot wave rushed over Jack's body. He and James struggled, though in passion, not in hate.

"I am sorry," James breathed against Jack's neck.

"Sticks 'n' stones, luv. We're square."

"But why?" James' green eyes were a sea of misery.

"Why what?"

"Why don't you hate me? I sent you to the gallows."

Jack put a finger on James' lips. "The first time I laid eyes on ye I knew we are made for each other." James' lips trembled under his touch. "Me mad about ye. I dream about ye. I want ye to take me." His tongue sneaked into the sensitive spot behind James' ear. He stole a mouthful of the sweetness lingering there.

James groaned. He sucked on Jack's fingers. "I... I know... of the many lovers you had," he murmured between the intimate treat.

"And that bothers ye?" He chuckled.

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, luv." He sucked on James' earlobe. "What are ye afraid of?"

"You - leaving me."

"Every time I'm leaving, know this, I'll be back."

"How many of your lovers did you make this promise?"

"None."

"That is a goddamn lie."

"Nay. I'm rooting for ye." He captured James' mouth and silenced him with a long and sweet kiss. Believe me, I'm yers, I'll never leave ye. A long time none was spoken. There were only more kissing and plenty of touching. James didn't hold back anymore. He reciprocated every endearment Jack gifted him with. His licks felt like a cat's tongue, smooth and raspy at the same time, a splendid sensation. Aye. At last his dear enemy was unleashed and treated him the way he'd desired all along. Ah, wicked. James roamed downright greedily over his body, nipping and licking here and there.

"No stoppin' this time, eh?"

James shook his head. His lips were glistening, his eyes a hurricane of feelings.

"Good." Jack gave James' hard and ready member a serious look as well as a tender squeeze. "So pretty." That James was blushing amazed him. What now?

"Wellington was right, you know," James confessed, shaking. "You don't look in the slightest dangerous."

"So?"

"You are dangerous. Way too dangerous for me."

"Nay," Jack murmured, overwhelmed by warm feelings. "Ye're the one who's way too dangerous for me."

"Lying pirate," James breathed against his mouth. He had stopped with his caresses, though he kept clinging to Jack.

"Don't make me beg."

"That is not it." He sighed. "I am just..."

"Let me." Jack grabbed his hand and put it on his cock while he spread his legs apart to show his eager hole. "There ye go."

"I know." James rolled his eyes. "Cheeky bugger!" He shifted and brushed his hands along the insides of Jack's thighs.

"Aye. Go on. Ravish me."

"All right." Slowly he wriggled one finger inside Jack's opening.

"Arrr... that's it, luv," he squealed, thrusting his hips forward. "Plunge in..."

"Shut up," James grumbled.

"Make me," he purred to prompt his enemy to go faster.

James fulfilled his wishes and entered a second finger while he jerked him off at the same time.

Jack groaned in ecstasy. "More." The joy in his belly raised to become the best of sensations.

James' rabid mouth latched on to his neck, sucking. "You taste... so good... so good."

"Mm... aye... Jem, oh Jem," he whined, jerking into James' hand.

"Stop calling me that."

"Nay," Jack disagreed, yowling as a third finger entered his horny opening. "I love saying yer name." At once James spanked the monkey harder. "Ah... aye... give me yer cock... please... I need yer pretty cock..."

"Bloody hell. Keep it down." James removed his fingers and lubricated his cock with saliva. "Otherwise I put that away. Savvy?"

"Oh! Please don't." He seized James by the hips and pulled him down on him.

"I call this begging," James gloated, though he was not stalling. He glided gently inside, buried his hardness to the hilt in Jack.

"Oh James... Jem... me Jem..."

"Stop that!" James hissed, and started fucking him.

"Oh...oh... I can't... take me... ah... kiss me, luv."

"Very well then! Remember this as the day you asked for this." James quickened his pace and ravished Jack's mouth and hole.

Blimey! Jack whimpered and moaned, was steamrolled by his dear enemy's passion and devotion. In mind-blowing pleasure, they surrendered to each other and climaxed in a most satisfying truce.

*****

A soft rapping at the door ripped James from an idyllic dreamland back to reality.

"James, are you awake? I need to talk to you."

Sarah. "Just a minute," he said, freeing himself from Jack's squid-like embrace.

"Damn early," his lover murmured, sprawling.

"Be quiet." James put his breeches on, shuffled to the door and opened it.

Sarah was already properly dressed. "I am sorry to disturb you. It is urgent. Please come down to the parlour."

"All right." That Sarah did not smile made him uneasy.

"Alone."

"Sure." He didn't even wince by what she implied. That she knew about him and Jack was something he wasn't bothered about. He went back to the bed and finished dressing.

"What's going on, luv," Jack murmured, though he wasn't standing up.

"Nothing to concern you. I am going down to have a talk with Sarah. You want me to bring you some breakfast up afterwards?"

"Aye, if it pleases ye."

"Fine." He bent down and put a kiss on Jack's pursed lips.

"I want plenty more kisses along with that breakfast."

"Wait and see. I am not making any promises."

Jack chuckled. "I know."

Exhilarated beyond reason, James entered the parlour. Seeing that Sarah was still not smiling, though she had every reason to tease him, he lost of bit of his good spirits. "What is the matter?"

"The maid was out to buy groceries and came back with some disturbing news. Soldiers are searching the houses for two outlaw fugitives."

"Damn it. We must leave at once."

"For heaven's sake. That is the worst you can do."

"What do you suggest?"

"A little play." She pointed at a robe lying on the bench. "Rather a family plot."

"Huh?"

"You are my brother, are you not?"

"Oh, right." His good spirits were back. "I see what you mean." He put the robe on and fetched the morning paper. "What about Jack?"

"Should remain where he is. They won't dare to go upstairs."

"I wouldn't bet on it." James settled on the bench, unfolding the morning paper.

"I guess you and he did come to an agreement?"

"Yes, indeed." He wasn't even embarrassed talking about Jack. Though he wasn't as light-hearted as he pretended. Tommy and he were never outed and so there hadn't been any pressure from family, friends or the society. He couldn't see a life this smooth and uncomplicated with Jack. He couldn't see them having a future together at all.

"I am happy for you."

"Thank you." A noisy uproar from the door interrupted their talk. James' stomach cramped. They were here. Keep sleeping and don't come down, Jack. Don't make this any worse than it already is.

Then Daniel came in and announced the arrival of the soldiers. Sarah gave her consent to let them in. Daniel showed only the corporal into the parlour. The two soldiers accompanying him had to wait in the hallway.

"Good morning. What is the reason for troubling our home?" Sarah requested, pursing her lips.

"Please excuse our intrusion, ma'am. We are looking for two outlaw fugitives. Pirates, who have stolen some valuable goods from an honest trader. He was attacked and robbed in broad daylight."

Unbelievable. James smacked the paper on the table. "And you think you can find them here? Don't you know who she is? Who I am? How dare you to think we hide some pirate scum in this house. In the home of his relatives."

The corporal turned deadly pale. "I'm sorry, sir. My Commander demanded that we search every house. I just do my duty."

"Who is this trader? What is his name?" That bastard Wellington. I wish I could send him to the gallows. I wish I could send his ship to Davy Jones' locker.

"I don't know, sir. I wasn't granted that kind of information. I just know that one of the pirates is supposed to be Jack Sparrow."

Captain Jack Sparrow almost slipped over James' tongue. "Indeed? As far as I have heard he drowned in a battle offshore a week ago."

The corporal blinked. "Uh... well... that's just a rumour, sir."

"Papa will be upset, if I will write him about this incident," Sarah said, bashfully lowering her eyes. "Do you intend to go upstairs and search the private rooms of my husband and me as well? Rummaging through my...uh...undergarments?"

James bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a laugh. That she pretended to blush at the idea of a stranger touching her underwear was too funny. She was neither an obedient daughter nor did she blush about such trivial things.

"No, of course not, ma'am. We know you would never hide a criminal and we are already on our way out. No need to write anything about this to him. Accept my apologies, please." He retreated to the door and was gone. The two soldiers chased after him. Dignified Daniel closed the door behind the unfortunate trio.

"Bloody hell, Sarah." James shook with laughter. "That performance. You should have gone to the theatre."

She snorted. "Father would have never allowed it."

"What's going on?" Jack strolled in, as if he had peeked around the corner, making sure not to come forward until the soldiers had bunked off.

James startled. "For heaven's sake. I told you to stay upstairs."

"Not that I remember." Jack was not in the least presentable. His breeches were a mess, he wore no shirt, and was barefoot. His cut and dishevelled hair to boot. "What's the uproar?"

"Go back upstairs. Soldiers were here and might come back. Wellington informed on us to the command on this island."

"He didn't dare saying he was looking for an escaped white slave, did he?"

"Of course not. He talked about two pirates stealing from him."

"Shiver me timbers! He's pretty keen on ye, isn't he, Jem?"

"He is rather keen on revenge after being tricked and humiliated by you. He gave them your full name."

"Not me fault everybody has heard of me."

"Knock it off! This is not the time for vanity."

"I'm not vain, just pointing out a-"

"Does that matter?" Sarah interrupted the petty banter.

"No, it doesn't," James agreed. "We will leave tomorrow before sunrise."

"Nah, ye shouldn't do that. Ye should stay right here," Jack fussed.

"No discussion. Go upstairs."

"Aye, Commodore. Sir." Jack gave him the naughtiest look and limped away.

"Well, Jem, who isn't keen on you?" Sarah said, and giggled.

"Not funny."

"Just a bit. Go on. I can see you can't wait to be with him. You two should rest though. Not flexing your muscles."

"Since you have married that Irish you have the sharpest tongue."

"No, no, that tongue I have since I was growing up with two impossible boys. Go on. I will bring up a tray with food and drinks shortly. You two should stay decent until then at least, not that I stumble into a scene not proper for a lady."

"Some lady you are."

*****

As promised Sarah provided food and beverages. After Jack and James had eaten and drunk their fill they were indeed resting. Well. Not that long.

Jack was the first to quit the idleness. He rubbed his belly, moaning. "That's a good feeling having a full stomach at last."

"Right." James opened his eyes.

"I was serious before." He moved closer. "Ye shouldn't come along with me. Ye shouldn't be seen in me company. So far ye got lucky. Nobody knows ye're the second man."

"I don't care if Wellington or someone else knows who I am."

"I care."

"Jack." He seized his arm and kissed the branded P and the tattoo of the Sparrow. "Trust me. We will make it. We will find a passage and sail away."

"Where to, eh?" He pulled James close and favoured him with plenty of sweet kisses. On the lips and the cheeks, on the neck and the chest. "We can't go to Port Royal, can we?"

"I won't tell you anything if you keep that up," James murmured, yet he was sprawling.

"Ye don't, eh? Whatever." He nipped briefly at James' nipples and then continued his treat down the tempting hairline. "I'm up for smooching anyway, the slow way for a chance."

"Nothing I would lament about." James played with his dreadlocks. "Actually, I am ready to get fucked by a bloody pirate."

"Eh?" Jack jerked his head up.

James laughed. "Remember this as the day I caught Captain Jack Sparrow with his breeches down."

*****

The body with the rope around his neck was dangling in the wind. Crows were sitting on the head, picking out the eyes. The face had once been that of a woman. A very beautiful woman. A face so familiar and loved, a face to remember. The crows flew away. The woman looked at him with empty black holes. As black as death himself.

"No..." Jack squeezed his eyes shut while he struggled against the arms keeping hold of him. Tears were streaming down his face. "Take a good look," an icy voice close to his ear whispered. "See what happens to pirates. See what happens to enemies of the crown." Jack didn't want to see. A brutal hand though pulled his head back by the hair. "Look, bastard son of a bloody pirate and a filthy whore." Jack struggled harder against the enraging grip. His eyelids fluttered open and he caught another glimpse of the mutilated body.

The face had changed. Had become that of a man. A man with brown hair and green eyes, which were drained empty of life.

"A treacherous traitor," the hateful voice hissed. "He got what he deserved."

Jack jerked awake. His heart was beating frantically. Sweat covered his face. In terror he looked around. The sight of James sleeping peacefully calmed him a bit. He was still scared witless by the explicit dream though. I must go. James is safe here, but not me. I must go now. If they catch him with me, he'll be sent to the gallows like any criminal. I can't endure that. It was hard enough to watch me parents die. Me mother crying and begging for me life, me father frozen with sorrow, unable to help any of us. Not again. Not James. He slipped out of bed and got himself dressed. It's better to leave without a farewell. It's better to avoid a discussion, or worse, a fight. He inspected himself in the mirror. Nah, not like this. He shoved the bandage off his head, checked his clipped hair and fixed the bandana. Finally satisfied with his appearance, he looked for the dagger and found it under a small desk. He stuck the weapon into his sash. Seeing the paper laying on the desk, an idea sprang to his mind. In one of the various drawers he found a pen and ink. He mused for a whole minute before he scribbled only one word on the piece of paper.

TORTUGA

He folded the paper neatly, then went back to the bed and put it on the pillow besides James' resting head. James looked content; the shadow of a smile was hiding at the corners of his lips. On top of his message Jack placed the ring with the green stone. The ring of me father. The ring he gave me mother on their wedding day. Jack kissed James' cheek with less than a feather's weight. "I love ye, Jem," he whispered with emphasis. "I never said that to any of me lovers." He absorbed the sight of James' bare back. "Those scars will always make ye remember, luv." James didn't wake up when he left the room. On his way down the stairs, Jack ran into the maid. "Pardon, darling?"

"S-sir?" She flinched back from him.

"Where's her ladyship?"

"Mrs. O'Neal is in the parlour."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

She blushed and fled down the hallway.

Jack sniggered. In a strange mood, a mix of pleasure and regret, he entered the parlour.

"Jack!" Sarah O'Neal lowered her book. "You are up."

"As are ye."

"Well, I guessed your intentions and never went to bed."

"Smart of ye. Sadly, I have to leave yer luvly company."

"Without James. That wasn't the plan, was it?"

"Nah. But I can't drag him into this. He's safe here. Not in danger to get caught in the company of a pirate."

"I see. I don't think James would agree though."

"He wouldn't. No time to fuss about. What's more important that he'll see me again. The opportune moment will come."

"Don't go breaking his heart like Tommy did."

"No worries, darling. I would never abandon me treasure."

"That's good to hear." She smiled. "May I offer you a shirt presentable enough so you can walk the streets of my hometown?"

He agreed, enchanted by her charming nature. "Aye. May I have some rum as well?"

"Certainly. Wait here." She left him alone.

Jack took a closer look at the small room than yesterday. A sofa, one painting of a young boy, faded curtains, a small table occupied with a tea set and a resting book. The painting drew his attention. The boy on it had brown hair, green eyes and a shy smile. Is that ye, Jem? I think so. Casually, to kill the time, he leafed through the open book. Eh? He stopped to read the dedication on the first page:

For my dear sister Sarah
Happy Birthday
Tommy

He felt a grin spreading over his face. "That explains a lot," he said, satisfied by finding out the truth. He was also glad that James had such a nice lady for a family. He heard Sarah was coming back. He closed the book. She didn't have to know. Yet.

Without much ado, she handed him a shirt and a small bottle.

"Thank ye, darling." He pulled the shirt over his head. It doesn't fit him, but he couldn't be picky.

"I found one which isn't too fancy. That is better to keep a low profile."

"Perfect for a pirate," he cherished her cleverness. He checked his other things then. Everything he needed was there. The dagger, a bottle with rum, his compass. "Bye now."

She grasped his hand and laid a few coins on its palm. "Bye. Take care."

"No worries. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?" Her laughter followed him on the way out. The street was empty. It was still early. The sun was on the verge of rising. His head hurt a bit but fortunately his leg had stopped complaining. Which way to go? He fetched his compass and looked at it. Though the compass turned out to be useless in this matter. Its needle pointed right to the house behind him, right back to James. Jack laughed and put it away. He looked both ways. Seawards was the shorter way, though riskier, yet easier for a limping pirate. A ship under me feet, no more walking, and the horizon in reach. Landwards was the longer way, a detour leading through the maze-like city. Though probably safer and worth considering. Think about Jem. Don't take any chances. Savvy.

Well then! He had made up his mind. "Yo ho, me hearties, yo ho," he sang in a low but cheerful voice and went

seawards

landwards

THE END or NOT THE END