Parts 81-85

Posted: April 2004
Author: Haleth

~~~~~~

Chapter 81 - Visitors

Captain Jack Sparrow was not at all unhappy that he was standing on the beach, in a hidden cove on the Isla de Muerte, in spite of the fact that he was, generally, happiest on the open sea.

Here, in this secluded bay, he could oversee the maintenance of the Black Pearl without fear of attack. One of the things he had always disliked most about being a pirate was the chore of locating a shoal, shallow enough to hold the Pearl steady, but not enough to thoroughly ground her. Here, the ship had been dragged up on a sandbar to one side of the cove.

Then, on the open sea, while the lads worked below, he would have to keep a vigilant eye out for other pirates, navy ships or other intruders that might like to take advantage of a temporarily out-of-commission ship. Here the danger or being spotted by an enemy was minimal.

And the lads had always hated the work. But here they had food, freshwater was in plentiful supply from the stream that flowed down from the look out mountain, and if they felt a little waterlogged there was this lovely beach, with fine white sand, to lie on and dry out in comfort. They had never been so cooperative about routine maintenance before. The Black Pearl would be at her very best in no time at all.

The best part of it, of course, was that Will Turner had decided to take an active part in the de-barnacling of the hull. This entailed many entrancing views of dripping wet skin and straining muscles as the water lapped around Will's chest, much laughter as Will and Bertram joked with each other, and the odd grin from Will when he happened to look Jack's way. Absolutely charming. Jack scrunched his bare feet in the soft sand, enjoying the feel of the grains between his toes.

Will was wading through the water toward Jack, who was grinning a mite foolishly where he stood on the hot sand.

"Care to join us in a bit of hard labour, Jack?" Will laughed as he began to rise out of nipple deep water. Moisture flowed down the curves of his chest and waist. The trousers, an old worn pair, a little too tight, clung to him as close as a second skin, gleaming wetly in the sun.

"Hmm," Jack answered as Will's bare lower legs emerged from the waves. "I was thinking about some physically strenuous activity of a different sort, actually." Yes, the feet appeared next. Slim, well-formed, lovely long toes. Not as prehensile as Jack's, though. Will had proven less adept at handling Jack with his feet, in spite of all the practice. Jack could forgive that; no one was perfect at everything. And what Will could do with his hands and tongue more than made up for his lack of dexterity with his feet.

Will stared down at his own feet. Jack loved to play with them. It made Will a little faint to think of what Jack did to them. What Jack could do to Will with Jack's feet made Will even more faint. It didn't seem fair. Everything Jack did to him was better than anything he could do to Jack.

"Hey, you've got that look, mate!" Jack smoothed his thumb over the deep crease in Will's brow. "What's that about then?"

But Jack seemed to love everything about Will, so Will supposed what he lacked in experience he made up for with enthusiasm. And he'd always been a very fast learner. Will shrugged. "Nothing, Jack. Time for the noon break. I thought you might like to go for a walk."

Jack grinned and took Will's hand, leading him further along the sand until the Pearl fully hid them from the path to the village, and the small gathering of people by the boat beached near it. There was a little pool of clear water, bordered by smooth stones that had tumbled down the mountain over time, and tall reeds surrounding the fresh water. The stream leading away from the pond before it cut through the beach curled around a boulder, so the reeds hid it even from the Pearl. Jack pulled Will behind the tall sward, to a spot where the grass was flattened and covered by a blanket, in the shade of tall palms.

"You seem prepared for this, Captain."

Jack spread himself across on the blanket. "Aye, mate. A good Captain is always prepared." He noticed Will picking at bits of algae on his forearm. "You can wash off in the stream if you like."

Will nodded and squatted by the clear, cold water. He scrubbed his hands with sand and scooped the fresh water over his shoulders and chest. Jack meant to get the food out of the basket on the other side of the blanket, but he was paralysed. Mesmerized, as it were. The way Will squatted made the waistband of his trousers ride low on his hips, exposing the curve of his hip. The water glistening on his broad shoulders blinked at Jack like signal lights from distant ships at night.

It didn't matter how many times Jack saw Will naked, or how intimate they were together. He would never tire of the exhilaration of half-clad Will. The way Will bowed in at his waist, and then the gentle swell above his arse, the little indents on either side of his spine. The tease of it, the way the trousers gaped a bit at the back, above where the crease of Will's arse started, but the shadow cast by the trousers suggested it enough to make Jack's mouth water.

Will stood suddenly and unfastened the trousers. The salt water had soaked into the linen and chafed him, and he figured they were sheltered enough here to risk exposure. He wanted to be clean all over. He stripped the trousers down, gave them a quick rinse in the stream, wrung them out and flung them over a thicket of sturdy reeds.

Jack was grateful he was lying down. It saved him the bother of swooning. If there was one thing better than the vision of Will Turner naked, it was the sudden vision of Will Turner suddenly naked.

Will squatted by the pond again and scooped up some wet sand to scrub his long limbs. He rinsed quickly, then leaned forward to dunk his whole head in the shallow pond.

Good Lord, when he was bent over like that Jack could see his bollocks hanging between his spread thighs. Jack had to rearrange himself in his trousers to avoid abrupt pain.

Will flipped his head back. Glossy dark curls swept through the air and smacked against his shoulders. The arc of water droplets didn't extend as far as the blanket Jack lay on, but Jack's tongue extended in a futile bid to taste one of them, nonetheless. Will shook his head and a spray of tiny jewels flew through the sunlight.

Jack clenched his fist. Will had to be completely unaware of what he was doing to Jack.

Will stood up, tall and lean and Jesus, but he had the best arse in the world, Jack thought. High and round and just so…

"Jack?"

"Hmm, luv?"

Will had turned around, so Jack's admiration of his arse was brusquely interrupted by the sight of his goods. And oh, what goods. He was right. Will had no idea of what he was doing to Jack. The goods lay dormant, soft and pretty. Though, even when at its most inactive, the head of Will's cock was noticeably, nay, deliciously wider than the rest of it. A reminder of things to come, with any luck. Fat, Jack thought, like a fat, round ball, but not perfectly round so not a ball, he didn't know what to compare it to. Perfection. Even if he couldn't describe it. And, he knew, when Will go excited and the length of his cock began to grow, the head would get proportionately larger as well. So much larger that it could be painful when entering Jack, but the pain always went away as soon as Will was inside.

Now, however, it was clear that Will was without intent to enter, as his cock was quite softly quiescent, nestled innocently against his bollocks like that. Lovely bollocks hanging in their loose skin with the incredibly soft brown hair sprinkled over it. Jack's mouth watered some more.

"I said, you're wearing different clothes."

Jack looked down. His cock was straining visibly against fawn-coloured linen trousers, tied at the waist with a length of bright green and blue woven something, in the tradition of somewhere over the sea, or that's what Okonkwo's wife had told him. His shirt was raw silk, pilfered somewhere along the way, a faded rose madder that made his deeply-tanned chest look less tanned than burnished. "Ah," he said, "Tessie took me clothes away, insisted on getting them washed proper. They're drying over there, with yours." He made a vague gesture toward the rocks behind him.

Will could see the clothes spread out over the rocks in the sunshine. He made a face meant to be a pout, but he wasn't very good at sulking when his eyes glittered so. "But that would mean I have nothing to wear."

Jack looked shocked. "Heavens, what a terrible turn of events! Perhaps you'd best wait here for your clothes to dry then, eh?" He patted the blanket beside him, and had no sooner said the words than he had Will pressed up against him.

"You're cold," Jack said.

Will pressed closer. "We're in the shade. Without the sun on me, I suppose I'll have to rely on you for warmth."

Jack sucked in his breath. That voice always did it to him. Low, but not a rumbling low, a soft low, like fur rubbing over skin, or the taste of a really well-aged rum. The sound of a ship scraping across the sand. He didn't know why he thought of that. Then he didn't care, because Will was on him and it was impossible to care about anything else when all that smooth skin was so close.

He brought his arm around Will and slid his hand down to feel the swell just above his arse, the one he'd been admiring earlier. His other hand nestled in the space between the blanket and Will's waist.

It was as if Will had been built to fit Jack's hands. "We fit so well," he mumbled before touching Will's lips with his.

Will hummed against his mouth and smiled, licked his cheek. Saucy. "I know, isn't it wonderful?" He licked again, but this time across Jack's slightly open lips. The very tip of his tongue ran across teeth. "I'm so happy we're here."

Jack moaned in agreement and reached with his lips but Will was gone. He'd flung himself back onto the blanket and was gazing blissfully up at the sparkling sunlight where it filtered through palm leaves high above.

"It's so perfect here," he murmured.

Jack ignored the palms, the sun, the stream, the bay – everything but the glorious body stretched out beside him. Kissable feet, long lean legs, slim hips and flat belly, perfect goods, not so soft as before, the cock beginning to fill a bit, enough to lift it off the bollocks to one side. Jack forced his eyes up off the cock, past the smooth stomach and broader chest, much as he loved to look at it all. "Perfect," he agreed when his eyes came to rest on soft lips curled into a smile.

"And Tessie's going to have a baby!"

Jack failed to see any relevance to the current situation.

"I'm going to have a little brother or sister!"

Bloody hell. Oh, God damn it all to bloody hell. There'd be no getting Will off this island now, not with a bloody little brother or sister here. How many times had Will said he regretted being an only child? How many times, casually, perhaps even wistfully, had he said he wished he had a sibling? Or more than one sibling? How he envied Tessie's children and their close bonds? How he adored Kay's children when they played together?

Jack scowled. "That's months away, luv. You've got to concentrate more on the present."

Will turned on his side, head propped up by one hand, and trailed his other hand over Jack's chest. Will fingered the ragged edge of the shirt's collar. "Nice shirt, Jack. A bit worn, but I like the texture. It suits you well." He splayed his fingers across the nubby material and rubbed it across Jack's chest, thumb circling a small, hard nipple.

Jack had to agree. The texture was a touch rougher than his other shirt, and went well with the shape of Will's hand, which was still a bit cool from the stream, but rapidly warming. Jack ran a palm from Will's shoulder to elbow. The muscles were still hard from work, triceps still bulging, biceps still rounded and hard.

Will rolled sideways, over top of Jack. "Take it off."

Jack dug his elbows into the blanket and struggled to sit up with Will still lying on top.

Will spread his legs on either side of Jack's thighs and pushed himself up to sitting. "Want to see you." His eyes danced, and he licked his lips.

"Since you asked so nicely…" He pulled the shirt out of the trousers and yanked it up his body. Will grabbed at his hands and twisted the shirt around his wrists before Jack had the chance to pull all the way off. Will pushed him down flat on the blanket.

"Will, I…"

"What?"

Jack didn't know what.

"Is there a problem?"

Jack thought about it. He was half naked, and a fully-naked Will Turner was sitting on his legs, with his half-hard cock pressed between Jack's thighs. Jack's hands were thoroughly tangled and being held up above his head, and Will was licking at the hardened peak of one of Jack's nipples. Jack felt as if the breath was being squeezed out of him, albeit in a delicious manner, and Will was making that little humming noise, the one that often preceded a full-out growl. There was only one problem.

"My trousers are still on."

"Easily remedied, ‘Captain' Sparrow…"

Jack lay still, afraid to even breathe, as Will untied the woven belt and pulled the trousers down over his hips. Images flitted through his mind. That look on Will's face when he seen the blanket, when he realized how secluded the spot was. The way he'd called him ‘Captain'. And the fact that, lately, the only time Will had used the title was when he wanted Jack to ‘play Captain', as he called it. But Jack wasn't playing Captain, he was splayed out on the grass with his hands bound over his head and Will kneeling between his spread legs with a grin that could only be described as wicked, unless you preferred to call it outright iniquitous.

This whole thing was some sort of a trap designed to get him to spread his legs for Will. As if a trap was needed.

Heat. Hot. Wet. Hot wet heat. Jack felt the mouth on his cock in the very pit of his stomach. Gone. As suddenly as it appeared. Oh, gods no, he's decided to torture me, Jack wailed inside his head. Tongue rasping on his inner thigh. Little nips and sucks on the soft skin of his hip. Dizzying. Dazzling. Will could torture him this way any time he wanted. The noisy laps at his cock and balls sounded almost like oars dipping into water.

Will tasted all over, sucking on skin and hair. He wished he could swallow Jack whole, did the next best thing, which was to take his cock as far into his throat as he could possible and listen to the deep moan. Jack's legs wrapped around his waist, so very inviting. He ran his hands up and down the sinewy length of Jack's torso. The way Jack could twist like that, the feel of the muscles and tendons writhing and straining under his hands, the bones seeming to bend under his fingers, it was sinful how exciting it was.

Intent. So intent on each other, the two men didn't even notice that the sound of a ship scraping against sand was, indeed, the sound of a the bottom of a ship scraping on the sand, on the other side of the cove. And that the sound of oars in the water was made by actual oars in the water. And they didn't hear the sound of soft leather boots sinking into the sand, advancing steadily. In fact, they carried on quite oblivious to the fact that a slim figure stood not too far away, hidden in the shadow of a palm to their sun and sex blinded eyes, watching every move they made.

And they carried on for quite some time, until the moment of completion, when Will – sitting on Jack's cock, filled with Jack's spending cock and still shuddering from his own orgasm, saw the look of complete disbelief on Jack's face. He craned his neck to see what could have given his lover such a shock, and sat, still impaled and quite in shock himself until a familiar name fell from his lips. Mortified, shocked and aghast.

"Elizabeth!"

---

Chapter 82 - What Elizabeth Saw

Elizabeth saw the Isla de Muerte. It floated before her in the mist, like something from a long past nightmare, much as it has always looked from a distance. As they drew closer, she saw that where the rough opening used to gape, there was no cave. She was sure she remembered the neighbouring rock formations, but the island had changed, up close.

The Interceptor II hugged the shore, passing around to the side of the island she'd never visited before. The cliffs soared, jagged and menacing. This man, Captain DeMaurier, had to be mistaken. This island could not be inhabitable. Yet he insisted that he lived there, along with Mr. Gibbs and Captain Jack Sparrow and Will Turner and a great many others.

She looked at the captain. He stood at the wheel, limbs loose and relaxed as if her were not navigating between jagged rocks and the unforgiving shoreline. He was a nice looking man, almost pretty, but with shocking chunks of hair sticking out in all directions. She'd never seen anything like that before, except on a few degenerate pirates. But this captain wore the collar of a clergyman, and a few of the crew called him Brother Alphonse, instead of Captain DeMaurier. Elizabeth shivered and turned her attention back to the cliffs. Why had she ever agreed to go on this foolish journey?

She looked to her other side and saw the dark, slim woman sitting on a barrel on the deck, refined and calm as if she were sitting in a formal parlour serving tea. She held a parasol in her left hand, dainty, although the sun did not penetrate the seemingly permanent mist that shrouded the cursed isle. Her raven hair was gathered loosely at the nape of her neck by a pretty cream-coloured ribbon, holding it off her high cheeks and aristocratic forehead. Her mouth, set in its habitual pout, was a lovely rouge, and when her black eyes met Elizabeth's her tongue darted out to moisten them.

That was her answer. She would do anything this woman asked of her.

Signal lights flashed from the top of a cliff. The first mate, Matthew he said his name was, tilted a flat, polished metal disc in answer. Elizabeth lifted the spyglass Matthew had given her, and looked to where the flashes came from. She was shocked to see Murtogg. She remembered him from the fort. James told her he was dead, yet here he was, on the Isla de Muerte.And the man next to him looked exactly like the other one. Mul-something, she tried to remember. This journey grew stranger with every passing minute.

Elizabeth gasped when the ship turned sharply inland. She was a second away from crying out with alarm when she saw that the solid wall of rock was not solid at all. It was an abruptly curved passage through the rock. It didn't seem possible that a ship the size of the Interceptor could squeeze through the narrow way, yet Matthew insisted that not only had the Interceptor II negotiated the channel many times, the Dauntless and the Black Pearl also made berth within.

The walls of solid rock rose oppressively above the ship. The man at the wheel was not at all perturbed by the danger. He sang in a soft, deep voice, a hymn Elizabeth recognized from church. Except he'd changed the words. It was now a mildly profane song, not terribly shocking or abominably rude, but not a tune she would repeat to the Ladies Church Circle.

She had no more time to be appalled by the rude preacher, for the way opened suddenly and the ship coasted into a large cove surrounded by green trees and white sands. And then Elizabeth saw the Black Pearl, looking much as it had the last time she saw it, when she'd watched Jack swim toward it and Will held her in his arms. Will's strong arms, as she recalled.

There was a flurry of activity on shore when the Interceptor glided to a halt on a sandbar. Matthew and another man, who seemed to speak no English at all but communicated well enough with Matthew in his own language, lowered the longboat and the first mate bid her climb down to it. As they rowed to shore, Elizabeth watched the people on shore grow larger and clearer. She recognized Mr. Gibbs at once, and Mr. Cotton as well, with the parrot on his shoulder. She recognized Anamaria as well, and beside her stood an older woman who looked very much like Anamaria, who must have been her mother.

Beside Anamaria's mother, though, stood a man who took Elizabeth's breath away. He was tall and handsome, with wavy hair and a beautiful face and wide, dark eyes. This had to be Will's father, because he was the spitting image of Will. Or rather, Will was the spitting image of him, but younger. Or so she assumed.

She had no idea if Will still looked the same. She hadn't seen him in well over a year, when they had bumped into each other on the street. Will had kept his head down, clearly embarrassed, apologized profusely and hurried off without even looking her in the eye. The man on shore looked her in the eye. He seemed to know precisely who she was. Of course, Mr. Gibbs would have told him.

Elizabeth helped the other woman out of the boat and looked around. There was nothing but beach and palms visible.

"The village is through here," Anamaria said after everyone had been introduced. She pointed to a wide path winding through the thick undergrowth.

Elizabeth looked back at the Pearl. "I'll be along in a moment. I want to take a look at the Pearl."

Elizabeth walked along the sand, toward the Pearl. As she drew closer, she saw that the ship was considerably cleaner than the last time she'd been aboard. It looked as if only a small section of hull need be scraped before the Pearl would be ready to make sail again.

She spotted something spread out on the rocks. Clothes drying in the bright sun. The sun was quite bright here, and she could see the ring of mist surrounding the island at the tops of the cliffs. She stood at the edge of the reeds and studied the clothes.

One article looked very much like the frock coat Jack Sparrow used to wear, she thought. There were shirts and trousers, vest and sashes, all laid out neatly next to a dull red scarf.

She looked back to where the longboat had landed. Someone had taken it back to the Interceptor II. She could just barely make out the marks in the sand where it had been dragged ashore. She hoped she would be able to find the path to the village again. The shore looked the same everywhere around the cove – a stretch of white sand met by thick undergrowth and trees. Elizabeth noticed some movement to her right.

Three steps, then a pond came into view. Fresh water gurgled down from a mountain spring; she could smell the lack of salt; and pooled before wending through reeds and sand to the water where the Pearl loomed behind her.

Two more steps and she saw Jack.

As she'd never seen him before.

Elizabeth instinctively drew closer to the palm tree to her left. From that vantage she was somewhat shielded from view, and could see even more of Jack as she'd never seen him before.

Naked. She didn't know why that was so surprising. Everyone is naked under their clothing; even people one would not wish to see naked. She wasn't sure that she wished to see Jack naked, but there he was.

His hands were tangled up in a shirt and thrown over his head, as if in submission, which was absurd because if there was one thing Elizabeth knew she knew, it was that Jack Sparrow never submitted. But his hands were wrapped in the dull reddish shirt and his arms were flung up, obscuring the top part of his face, and his chest was bare. Naked.

The two bullet wounds on his chest were paler than before, fainter, as were some of the scars on his arms. None of the tattoos had faded in the least. His wiry arms strained and his face contorted with what had to be pleasure. He had his head tilted back with his mouth open, so the sun glinted on gold teeth. He still had the little braids in his beard. She imagined he would have two smears of thick, black kohl beneath his eyes, but she couldn't see them with the shirt in the way.

Hadn't changed all that much, as far as she could tell, except for the fact that she'd never seen him naked before. Not that that meant anything had changed or not changed, but it was new to her.

He was lean enough for ribs to show when he arched his back, and had little hair on his torso, but for the black line that led from his navel down. Elizabeth saw the clean long lines of his torso tapering downwards, drawing her eye down…

… to a mass of damp brown curls. Right where Elizabeth would have expected to see something entirely different. That would explain the obscene noises Jack was making.

Two hands slid up Jack's torso, fingers splayed, squeezing and testing the skin under them, plucking at Jack's nipples, scratching his sides. Large hands. Rough hands. Blacksmith's hands.

It had to be.

Elizabeth had to put her own hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. Jack was starting to struggle with his bonds. He groped to one side, fumbling through layers of silk, at the basket that lay on the blanket beside him. The head rose.

"Let me help you with that."

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She would know that voice anywhere. Soft and deep, polite even in a situation like this.

When she opened her eyes, Elizabeth saw that Will had untangled Jack's hands and had playfully tossed the shirt over Jack's face. Jack sank his hands immediately into the glossy curls and forced the head back down to his groin. Will made a muffled sound, but it was not one of protest or even surprise. It was closer to a purr.

Jack spread his legs, and Will gripped his thighs hard. Elizabeth didn't need to see any detail to know what he was doing. She wasn't entirely naïve. It wasn't an activity James had ever asked her to perform, but she'd heard tell of it.

She couldn't be shocked by the mere fact that Will and Jack were so obviously involved. She'd known about this, on an intellectual level, ever since that time in the garden when Will had called out Jack's name. And when James returned in disgrace, he'd told Elizabeth of it. But seeing it in front of her was… James had not gone into this sort of detail. And Elizabeth had not thought on the mechanics of it before, as she had been concentrating on James and her marriage.

The fact that Will wanted to do things like that had no affect on her at all. None.

Will reared up and leaned over Jack. Now she could see his shoulders, broad and naked, golden. He must have been spending time in the sun, shirtless. Muscles rippled across his back, and stood out in sharp relief from the backs of his arms as he leaned over Jack's torso. He grabbed the shirt with his teeth and dragged it off Jack's face.

The way Jack looked up at Will was positively debauched. The kohl was there, dark and sinful under his eyes, and he stared up at Will as if he might eat him alive. If she were Will, she was sure she would have been revolted. Instead, Will leaned down, and Elizabeth could just see the side of his face as he kissed Jack. Kissed him passionately. For a long time. When he pulled back, he licked around Jack's open mouth. Elizabeth could see his tongue. He slid down and tugged at one of the little braids in Jack's beard with his teeth.

Elizabeth cringed, but didn't look away.

Jack reached over his head and drew a bottle from the basket. He grinned as he pressed it to Will's hand. Will pushed himself up and straddled Jack's thighs. Now Elizabeth could see Will all the way down to his waist, the way the wide shoulders narrowed to a trim waist. Filthy pirate hands stole around his waist. Will didn't seem to mind at all. Jack stroked up and down Will's sides while Will uncorked the bottle.

Will lifted the bottle and poured some of the contents over his fingers. Some sort of oil, it was. He sat back and dropped his hand down. Jack hissed, and Will's arm flexed.

"I thought you wanted to be ‘captain' today?" Jack half-spoke, half-grunted, with the hint of a mocking tone to it, but filled with a strain Elizabeth recognized. James had always had that sound to his voice when she put her hand around him. Not that he spoke much when she'd did that, but on the rare occasion when he did say something his voice had that quality.

"Changed my mind," Will said.

There was no way Elizabeth could deny it. That was Will's voice.

"Well then, Mr. Turner, in that case…" and Jack wriggled out from between Will's thighs and crawled around him.

Will straightened up, and Elizabeth saw, just for a moment, where the indent of his waist flowed out into the curve of his arse, and what an arse it was. Beautiful. She never thought of a man's arse as beautiful before. But then, she'd never seen Will Turner's arse naked before. She had seen it clothed, and it looked just fine in clothes. But this was… more.

She imagined that, if she were a man, she might want to get her hands on that arse too. Or perhaps she simply wanted to get her hands on it. But it was Jack who had his hands on Will's arse.

She couldn't recall ever having seen James's arse, not like that. The lights were usually out, and he didn't parade around naked in front of her, at any rate. She touched it, of course, in the course of things, but she didn't remember it to be quite as firm or round as Will's arse looked. It was entirely different from her current lover's arse, as well.

Jack had a very nice arse too, she now saw. Different from Will's, not quite so rounded. But it really was quite lovely to look at, even if it did belong to the disreputable pirate. She didn't have much time to see it, because Jack sat down at the same time he pushed Will forward, and then Will was on all fours and that was an entirely different view of his arse.

Oh my, Elizabeth thought. That was not something she expected to see today or any day.

Jack's hands played all over Will's arse, pressing into the flesh and sneaking into the dark crevice. Jack leaned down and sank his teeth into the soft flesh. Elizabeth was so shocked she gasped, but the noise was not heard by either man, because Jack was nuzzling between the lovely cheeks and Will was groaning.

Elizabeth stared. He was… she couldn't believe it. Will grabbed the blanket in his fists, moaning and panting. He spread his legs wider, and as he sank down Jack's mouth followed. Despicable, Elizabeth thought. Will dropped to his elbows, pushing his arse up further. Jack was making wet licking noises, and when he pulled back his tongue was still stuck out, pointed and wet, shaped as if he'd been… Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand again.

But why wouldn't he do that? She loved the touch of her lover's tongue on her. Not her arse. But still, it made sense. Why hadn't James ever kissed her there? Didn't he know she would have liked it? He mustn't have known about it, because she knew there was no reason not to. She knew it tasted just fine. And maybe if he had kissed her there, then it would have been more comfortable when himself inside her. Imagined Will might have done it to her, if he hadn't called Jack's name out like that.

Just like that. He called out Jack's name the same way he'd called it out in the garden. Jack rubbed one hand across Will's arse and slid his index finger toward the hole he'd just been licking. Elizabeth knew exactly what Jack was doing, and the thought was appalling. She knew what buggering was, but she'd never expected to actually witness it. But then, she could look at Will's arse and see that any man who was interested in buggering would be tempted to bugger it. And she didn't stop watching as Jack sank his finger in deep and turned it. His forearm twitched.

"Fuck!"

Elizabeth blinked. Will Turner had just said ‘fuck'. That was not a word she would expect to hear from Will. It was not a word she ever expected to hear, period.

James had said it, a few times. More than a few times. James usually said it when he was about to climax, and he said it as if it was something he had to expel. He spat it out as if he was ejaculating it the same way he was ejaculating his seed.

Will didn't say it like that.

Jack made a humming noise, sort of like encouragement, and slid another finger inside. Elizabeth stared in horror when she fully realized that he was going to put his… inside that little… there was no way. But Jack leaned in again and she knew he was licking again because Will was squirming again. This time, when Jack pulled back, he had both hands on Will's arse, fingers out and splayed on either side of the dark opening, and he leaned down again and spit and then rubbed the saliva around the hole with his thumb.

Will said "Fuck!" again, and it was not a thing to be rid of, some distasteful thing to be cast out in disgust. It wasn't a noun at all, it was a verb. And it was a verb he very much wanted to occur, and he wanted the verb to happen inside him and right away.

It was not an expletive; it was a command.

Jack spat again, messy, disgusting and wet.

"Jack, please!" Will's voice lowered, changed from a command to a plea.

Jack flattened his tongue and dragged it across the hole on last time, pressing, pushing the spit inside. "Calm yerself, luv, I'll be doing this proper like, eh?" he said in a very Sparrowish manner.

Will growled and banged a fist on the ground. "Any more proper and I'll explode before you even… ahhh!"

Three fingers effectively silenced Will, twisting and turning, and when Jack pulled the fingers out Will whimpered. Jack dropped out of sight for a second and reappeared under Will, on his back, having wriggled between Will's widely spread thighs.

Elizabeth leaned forward so she could better see over the tall grass. Will was hovering over Jack, and she could see Jack clearly.

Jack's cock. Cock. There was another word she ordinarily didn't think of, or wouldn't admit to thinking of, but it suited the occasion so very well she couldn't help it.

Jack's cock was dark and slick from the oil, and Will was visibly wet, even from that distance, which would certainly ease the way but even so… She tried to judge the size, remembering how it hurt on her wedding night, the first time James put himself inside her. She winced when Will lowered himself, and the thick head brushed over the small opening. It was far too big to fit inside there. Nowhere near as big as James, but still too big.

Of course, this was not the first time for Will. That much was obvious. He shivered and moaned in a sluttish manner that made Elizabeth bite her lip.

Elizabeth saw that Jack was holding his breath as Will straightened up and reached behind himself to guide Jack's cock to him. Will sank down, spreading his legs even more to lower himself, and the hard cock pushed inside.

Jack said, "fuck!" this time. He also said, "hot," and "Jesus, Will," and a long, drawn out "yeeeessss."

Will had his hands on his thighs. The oil slicked them and made the hairs glisten in the sun. He started to move up and down on the cock, and Elizabeth could imagine moving up and down on a cock - not Jack's cock, but a cock - like that, except not with the cock in her arse. But she could feel it between her legs, and she might have even wanted it between her legs. Not Jack's cock, though. Not James either. Maybe it was Will's cock she wanted.

Jack moved to meet Will, tilting his hips gracefully, as if this was a dance he'd performed before.

This was not the same Jack Sparrow. This was not the drunken miscreant who twirled the ends of his moustache and fell down unconscious on the sands in front of her in the midst of his vain attempt to get what he wanted. This Jack was sure and smooth and skilled and had exactly what he wanted.

Will fell forward and Jack's fingers closed over bulging triceps, hanging on tight as if Will might fly off him. Will's hair tumbled across their faces, but she knew they were kissing. Elizabeth tried to be revolted, knowing where Jack's mouth had just been, but at this new angle she could see Jack's cock disappearing up into Will's arse, and that was possibly the most erotic thing she'd seen in her entire life. Which wasn't saying much, for it was obvious to her now that there was a whole range of sexual experience out there of which she'd had no idea.

Elizabeth sank down against the tree, dizzy from all the excitement and wondering how she would ever be able to face Will or Jack after seeing that. Or how she would ever face anyone again, for that matter.

She listened to the two men while they fucked. Fucked, she thought to herself. And the word didn't sound as vulgar as she'd always thought it sounded. Especially when Will said it out loud again. ‘Fuck me.' It wasn't a bad word at all, when Will said it. Will moaned Jack's name a few times, and Jack encouraged him with low growls and moans. A sharp cry from Will made her stand up again.

Will was riding Jack in earnest now, and Jack was looking up at Will. Will was looking back, even if Elizabeth couldn't see his face. James never looked at her like that when they made love. Ever. Jack's arm was moving steadily, his hand must have been on Will's cock, pumping him, urging him on. Will had Jack's cock in his arse and Jack's hand on his cock and Jack's eyes on his face.

Will arched his back and tilted his head back, and Elizabeth noticed how much longer his hair was now, and how he didn't even try to tame it. It curled and spread across his shoulders and fell in what were almost ringlets and when he shook his head it shimmered. His fingers tightened on his thighs and Jack cooed, "That's it, luv, that's it."

Jack sucked in air loudly and thrust up hard, and he made a harsh noise, eyes closed for a second. His thighs went tense and then loose again. A shudder spread across Will's back, rippling down through his muscles. His arse clenched and his thighs shook and then an arc, silvery white in the sunlight, sprayed across Jack's tensed belly and splashed on his tanned skin. Jack caught the second shot on his hand, and Elizabeth watched him draw his slick fingers into his mouth and suck the seed from them hungrily.

Elizabeth wondered what it tasted like. And why James had never offered his seed to her in such a way. Jack certainly seemed to enjoy it.

Will shuddered once more, and that was when Jack opened his eyes wide and saw Elizabeth standing in the shade of the palm tree. And then Will turned, still impaled on Jack's cock, and saw her there.

"Elizabeth!"

She stepped back, wished she'd never walked up the beach, but she knew that was a lie as soon as she thought it. She would never regret this, even if it was possibly the most embarrassing moment of her life.

Jack wriggled and pulled out of Will, and hauled himself up to his knees. Will gaped at her, and Elizabeth couldn't help looking down to see his cock.

He was still hard, glistening with the last bit of his release smeared around the wide head of his cock. Very wide head. The shaft looked almost slender compared to the head. Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from licking her lips. What a beautiful cock, she thought. She loved the look of that head, imagined how it would feel.

James didn't have a fat head on his cock. The head was barely distinguishable form the rest of it, not that she'd ever seen it in the stark sunlight like this. But from the times she'd grabbed it in the dark, she knew it rather tapered at the end. It was probably as wide as the head of Will's cock in the shaft, fat all over it was, and when it got very hard it seemed as if it almost pained James. He wouldn't let her anywhere near it, even if she wanted him to get hard, unless they were in the bedroom, under the covers, and ready to take care of it immediately.

But the shape of Will's cock, it was lovely, she thought. And it would probably feel quite nice inside, like when her lover's fingers curled and touched that spot inside her that made her shiver all over.

Jack grabbed the edge of the blanket and threw it across Will, hiding him from view. He didn't bother to cover himself, so when he moved in front of Will to hide him further Elizabeth got a stunning view of Jack's cock, also still hard, and very wet from the oil and his own saliva and seed, and jutting out from his body like an obscene, dripping sword.

Elizabeth could see Will's chest now, as well. Dark hard nipples. She liked nipples, and his looked as if they would feel very nice under her fingers. Under her tongue even. Her boldness made her look up to Will's face.

Will opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He was not the same Will Turner. He had the same features. His eyes were the same, the scruffy beard and the set of the jaw, but he was different. Even in the midst of his shock, she could see he wasn't the same man.

That was fine, because she was certainly not the same woman.

"Well," she said.

Jack opened his mouth, closed it. Fishlike. Elizabeth had never seen Jack Sparrow speechless. She decided she rather liked it.

Will was aghast, and Jack was as flustered as Elizabeth had ever seen him, and that was when Elizabeth realized that they were even more shocked and embarrassed than she was, so she'd best take advantage of that fact before their shock changed to anger.

"I'd suggest you clean up a bit," she gestured vaguely in the direction of Jack's shiny cock.

Will put an arm around Jack and thrust his hand in front of Jack's cock. It wasn't enough to entirely hide it, but it did make Jack whimper.

"And get dressed," Elizabeth said in the most imperious tone she could manage. "There's someone in the village I think you'll want to meet."

She turned and began to walk back down the beach, using every ounce of control she possessed to not look back.

---

Chapter 83 - Jonathon

Captain Jack Sparrow teetered to the left, hands waving in grand flourishes, tilted abruptly back to the other side and came to a quivering standstill somewhere in the middle.

Will Turner had already positioned himself behind Jack to catch him when he fell, and waited with outstretched arms.

But he did not fall. He cleared his throat.

One elegant black eyebrow raised up, creasing a smooth forehead, as if the woman fully expected Jack to topple over in a dead faint.

Elizabeth stared from the calm face of her lover to the frantically darting eyes and gaping mouth of the pirate. The resemblance, despite her regal air and his less than respectable appearance, was remarkable.

Will looked at the newcomer for the first time and slackened his alert stance, in awe of what he beheld. Jack tipped back.

"I was afraid of that," the dark-haired woman said in a clear, cultured accent.

Will braced himself for the impact, but Jack did not fall, he merely sagged against Will as if for moral support. Will slipped his arms around Jack to hold him steady.

"Alex," Jack said.

She smiled.

"Alex," Jack repeated, just in case no one heard. Or in case he was wrong. Or in case he was seeing an illusion, and saying the name would make it vanish and stop tormenting him, for surely it would be torment to be made to believe one's own sister was standing in front of oneself when she was not.

"Jonathon," she said. "It is more than good to see you again."

Will tightened his grip. Who was this woman, and how had she found Jack? The Isla de Meurte cannot be found except by someone who has already been there. He looked at Elizabeth with suspicion.

"I didn't guide her here," Elizabeth said in answer to Will's glare. "Captain DeMaurier brought us here, at the request of… Captain DeMaurier. The other, Captain DeMaurier, that is." Elizabeth was still a tad confused about this large family, but she was almost certain that it was Jacob DeMaurier who had asked Alphonse DeMaurier to deliver them to the island safely.

"Sit down, Jonathon. You look a little queasy."

Jack scowled and pulled away from Will's arms, ignoring the hurt look on Will's face at the rejection. "Nonsense, my dear, I just lose me land legs every now and then, savvy?" But he sat on the bench nonetheless.

Will stood behind him, unsure of his welcome for the first time in a long time.

Alex sat gracefully, and offered a plate of Tessie's biscuits to Jack. He shook his head and she tut-tutted him. "Jonathon, please. Eat something. You know you have a tendency to keel over if you have a shock when you haven't had enough to eat." She turned to face Tessie, who sat at her right. "It's a bit of a family trait, if truth be told."

Tessie turned her stare on Jack. "Do as your sister says, Captain Sparrow."

Will stared from Alex to Jack. Sister. Oh. My. That explained a lot. Actually, it didn't explain anything except for the uncanny resemblance. And the fact that, in spite of her formal manner, this woman was being awfully familiar with Jack.

Jack gnawed on a biscuit reluctantly, clearly of the opinion that it was drink, not food, needed to steady his nerves. He stared at the teacup Kay offered him as if it were a poisoned mushroom. Kay nudged his arm, and he took the tea. Upon sipping it, he was overjoyed to learn that Will's naughty step-sister had anticipated Jack's thoughts, and slipped a bit of rum into the dark brew. She winked at him. Saucy wench, Jack thought. If he didn't prefer men… and she wasn't married to the somewhat intimidating and entirely brawny Franklin… and her mother wasn't Tessie, who was openly glaring at Jack by this point…

Alex cleared her throat, and Jack looked across at her.

"I received a letter from a…" Alex paused and sipped her tea daintily. "I received a letter from a friend in Port Royal mentioning you, so I booked passage immediately. I'm most relieved to have found you. I have news of the greatest import."

Jack put his empty teacup down on the table set on the sand between the two benches. "Will," he said quietly, and Will slid onto the bench beside him, arm around Jack's shoulder. Jack leaned into him and looked his sister in the eye. "Mother?"

Alex nodded.

Jack sagged.

"Father, as well."

Jack tilted his head to look at her more closely.

"Mother passed away peacefully," Alex added. "In her sleep. I was with her when it happened. She asked me to find you, and tell you she…"

Elizabeth took Alex's hand in hers and patted it. Even through the shock of finding out about his parents' deaths, Jack couldn't help but notice that. Elizabeth stoked Alex's hand soothingly. Alex patted her arm back. Elizabeth placed a single kiss on Alex's cheek. Interesting.

Alex took a deep breath. "I'll tell you that in private, later. She was not in any pain, I assure you. A few weeks later, Father passed away."

Jack snorted. "Drunken fall? Or did someone finally fight back?"

Alex crinkled her nose as if she found the subject distasteful, but was compelled to report honestly on the incident. "He fell from his horse."

Jack shrugged. That wasn't such a bad way to go. Not nearly awful enough.

"There was enough suspicion about it that he was not buried on consecrated ground."

"You mean he offed himself?" Jack blurted out.

Alex stiffened. Clearly, this was not a topic she wanted to pursue. "That was the opinion of the pastor."

Jack whistled. "Buried off church grounds. Reckon the old man wouldn't take too kindly to that, eh?" Although the idea of his father committing suicide appealed to him, in a way. It wasn't very seemly idea, but then relations between father and son had never been terribly civil.

"Jonathon, please, there is no need…"

Jack sat up straight. "No need? Maybe not, but what about a want? What about wanting to see him get what he deserves for nigh on twenty-five years, eh?"

Will squeezed his arm around Jack to calm him.

Alex sat very primly, both hands in her lap, now. "You are the heir to the entire estate, including all six mills and the smithy." She looked at Will when she said the last word. She was obviously well-informed about him.

"I don't need it."

"Well, it is yours."

"I don't want it. Give it to someone else."

"That is the other reason I wanted to find you."

Jack shifted closer to Will. He knew something was big was coming, he could tell by the blank, almost impersonal expression on Alex's face, as if she were about to recite a speech she had practiced many times, and did not want to get a single word wrong.

"Jonathon," she began.

"It's Jack," he said. "It's Jack now. I left Jonathon behind long ago, Alex."

She smiled indulgently. "And I am no longer called Alex. I'm called Lady Barrowdowns now. But I think you may still call me Alex, and I may still call you Jonathon." She shifted on the bench and rearranged her skirts around her, fussing with on particular fold until she was steady enough to look him in the eye again.

"In the matter of the heirs of the Earl of Duncroft, if there were a grandson, and you wished to sign it all over to him…"

Jack sat up. "Grandson? You have a son?"

"Not exactly."

Jack and Will both thought of Anamaria's baby. Tessie shook her head at them curtly. Kay, sitting to the other side of Tessie now, made a little throat-cutting motion, as if to tell them to stay quiet about that. Of course, Alex wouldn't know about that. Yet. Jack nodded curtly, both to Kay, to tell her he understood, and to Alex, to tell her to continue.

"When I first arrived in Port Royal I owned a house. I think you understand what sort of house it was. There was a woman in the house who worked for me, and she had a child, a son. When I retired, I took the boy with me, raised him as my own. I do consider him to be my son."

Tessie smiled. Jack squinted his eyes, in deep thought. Marina DeMaurier. She'd bought the brothel from Alex. And someone mentioned, he couldn't remember who, but someone, perhaps Anamaria, had said Marina had a son. So that was why Tessie was smiling. She was after the family fortune.

"Now wait a minute, I don't know that adopted children really count in these matters…" Jack said. He didn't particularly want the manse, or the land, or any of it, but he didn't necessarily want Tessie's brood to have it either. It seemed mercenary, somehow.

"Jonathon!"

He turned his attention back to his sister.

"She was young when she had the child. And a brothel is no place for a child to grow up, so of course I adopted him. It was not a very popular decision, I'll admit. In fact, there is some question about the legality of the adoption in England, since the child is not…" She looked over at Tessie and Kay. "Well, he's not entirely English stock," she said, not terribly tactfully but it wasn't an outright insult, so Tessie shrugged it off.

Jack shook his head. "Inheritance laws…" he began.

"Jonathon, listen to me, please! Try to remember. This woman, Marina, she was young. She was stranded, in Nassau, and she turned to the only means she could think of to earn passage home. She sold herself, for a night. The man was very kind to her, and gave her enough money for food and lodging for several nights. And she knew it was his when she found herself with child."

Marina, Jack thought. Nassau Port. "Nassau?" he asked. Marina in Nassau Port.

"It was just over thirteen years ago, Jonathon. She would have looked younger than she does now, but not all that different."

Jack strained his memory. Marina in Nassau Port. Couldn't be. "I don't know what you're talking about," he concluded after a time.

"Jonathon, she described the father to me. Described him to me to the last detail. I know it was you."

"Don't be absurd, Alex. I don't even remember what I looked like thirteen years ago."

"The scar, Jonathon." She reached across the table and touched the scarf on his head, fingers hovering over the exact spot, Will knew, where the scar was.

Jack shrugged. "It could have been anyone."

Tessie shook her head. "No, she wasn't… it wasn't a regular thing. She worked job as a barmaid after that. There was no one else, she told me that herself. But I never thought it was you until now. She said it was a merchant, not a pirate."

Jack squirmed on the bench. He leaned away from Will, not wanting the closeness, but Will wouldn't let go. He was too busy to let go. Too busy trying to assimilate all this information. Jack resigned himself to his lover witnessing this fiasco up close. Will held onto him as if he was afraid Jack might run. But Jack couldn't run. He was on an island, and the Pearl was still stuck on a sandbar undergoing maintenance. There was nowhere to run.

"Jack," Elizabeth said quietly, even kindly, "I knew it was your son the first time I saw him, and I knew nothing of the circumstances. It's obvious just from looking at him."

Jack looked up at Elizabeth.

"He's a fine boy, Jack," she added. "Very clever boy. Handsome too. And he wants to be a pirate."

Jack coughed.

Alex picked up her teacup again and sipped daintily. "I believe Kay's children took him up to see a spa of some sort."

Jack looked stricken. "He's here?"

"Of course he is. I brought him to meet you, to meet his father."

Jack looked over at Tessie. Obviously, she was not familiar with this part of the story.
She glowered at him.

"My daughter felt herself disgraced, and she became a harlot because she felt she couldn't come home like that, with the child of a man she didn't even know. All she knew was his first name. But I don't know how she could have mistaken the likes of you for a merchant," she spat.

Jack sighed. "Nassau. Thirteen years ago." He closed his eyes and a sly smile played around his lips. "See, I had that run in with the East India Trading Company." He rubbed absently at the brand on his wrist. "And I thought it might be time to be a bit more legitimate like. So I gathered a bit of swag and sponsored a few journeys, and it turned out to be a profitable undertaking, being a lawful trader."

Bootstrap, who sat on a log to the left of the group, laughed. "While it lasted, eh Jack?"

Jack grinned at his old friend. "Well, aye, while it lasted. But you see, it turned out that piracy was even more profitable. So, once I had enough money to buy me own small ship, I hired a few lads. I spent my days selling goods to merchants. And then in the nights…"

Will rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what was coming next.

"… the lads would pirate the goods back to me and I could resell them to other customers."

"Or back to the ones you stole them from in the first place," Bootstrap added.

Tessie choked on her tea. Kay had to hide a laugh behind her hand. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.

"You are despicable," she said

Jack laughed. "Aye, that I am. But it turned out to be profitable in more ways than one."

Bootstrap blushed. And Tessie suddenly didn't care about how despicable Jack was, because the sight of Bootstrap blushing made her think about things far more immediate than Jack's deeds of old.

"I was a merchant sailor on one of those ships." Bootstrap admitted. "Threw my lot in with Jack when he was forced to take the ship. Seems the captain noticed that the goods Jack sold him were the same one's stolen from him a few months before."

"Well, they got a bit ragged, what with being sold and stolen and sold again so many times," Jack explained. "I suppose they had a few distinguishing marks, what with rough usage and all." He rubbed at his forehead unconsciously. "When I had enough to buy the Pearl, I quit the legitimate business and went strictly pirate." He shared a chuckle with Bootstrap.

Alex pursed her lips. "That's all very well and good, Jonathon. But the fact remains that while you were pretending to be a legitimate merchant, you fathered a decidedly illegitimate son."

All chuckles ceased.

Will rubbed small circles at the small of Jack's back. He made a little shushing sound, to stop Jack from saying anything he might regret.

Just then, the laughter of children wafted out of the underbrush and a half dozen DeMaurier children burst into the clearing.

One of them stopped in his tracks at the sight of the pirate sitting across from his mother.

He was a wiry lad of about thirteen, with delicate, striking features. With his smooth, high cheekbones and sharp black eyes, he looked remarkably like his adoptive mother, but for the darkness of his skin and the long, thick clumps of black hair that fell in thick, twined dreadlocks, rather than smooth, tamed strands. His eyes widened. His lips pursed. He swayed a little on his feet.

"Jonathon," Alex said in a clear, authoritative voice. "Come here, dear. It's time for you to meet Captain Jack Sparrow."

---

Chapter 84 – The Family Way

The slap rang out across the clearing. Everyone who was not gathered around the little table - that is, everyone who had been studiously ignoring the strange family reunion in the middle of the clearing while staring at it with one eye - was forced to look.

Charlotte's hand stung from the force of it. It was possible she'd never slapped anyone across the face that hard in her life. She shook her hand and stared at the imprint of her hand blooming pink across the pale cheek.

Jack automatically jolted back at the sound of a hand hitting a cheek, and was as relieved as he was stunned to discover that he was not, in fact, the recipient of the blow.

Alex leapt forward and grabbed Elizabeth's hand before she could strike back.

Elizabeth reached up with her other hand to rub at her reddened cheek.

Will stood up, shocked at Charlotte's behaviour. "What was that for?"

Charlotte clenched her stinging hand. "Your girlfriend's father killed my father!"

Alex pulled Elizabeth back to shield her with her own body. "I beg your pardon, but that's MY girlfriend. And her father had nothing whatsoever to do with your father's death. He fell off his horse."

Charlotte barked out a harsh laugh. "With a noose around ‘is neck, eh!"

Anamaria put a hand on Charlotte's shoulder. "Don't do this, luv."

Alex looked from Anamaria to Charlotte, immediately understanding their situation, and then back at Elizabeth. "Noose?"

"Aye," Charlotte spat. "And Captain Swann of ‘is Majesty's navy was the one who put him in it, alright. Me mum told me," Charlotte's eyes shot fire at Elizabeth, "right afore that bastard turned her out on the street."

"Don't call my father a bastard, harlot!" Jack said without thinking.

Will stared at Jack. "But I thought your father was a bastard!"

Alex sat down hard. Elizabeth began frantically fanning her. "Someone, bring some water," she said. "Alex, breathe, darling!" She patted Alex's hand frantically. "Oh, this always happens when she's upset."

"You alright, mum?" Jonathon asked nervously as he knelt beside Elizabeth to fan at the woman's other side.

Alex opened her eyes slowly. "You mean your father wasn't my father, Charlotte?"

"You know her?" Elizabeth said.

"And I know you!" Charlotte huffed. "And yer wicked husband. Nasty man he turned out to be, eh?"

This time Kay grabbed Elizabeth's fist. "Why don't we all sit down quietly and straighten this all out, shall we?" she said. She shooed the children off to the other side of the clearing.

Once all were settled, the DeMauriers and the Duncrofts and the Turners and whatever Charlotte was, they all eyed one another warily. Elizabeth Swann Norrington returned her eyes to her lover.

Alex cleared her throat. "I will go first."

Will put his arm around Jack and pressed close to him to hold him steady, just in case.

Jack found himself suddenly less interested in all the drama because one lean, taut thigh was pressed against his own leg, and Will's fingers tightened around his shoulder.

"I was under the impression, from the letter mother sent to Paris with her, that Charlotte was an illegitimate child of my father's, and that was why I was asked to take her in."

Charlotte cleared her throat. "We never discussed my father, so I suppose you could have made that mistake easily. My father was a highwayman, and my mother was kicked out of Duncroft Manor when the Earl discovered my mother had cheated on him."

Jack decided to pointedly ignore the fact that Charlotte had grown up in his family home. After all, she would have been a babe when he left.

Alex nodded. "I see. Well, the matter of your parentage is inconsequential. I would have been happy to give you shelter regardless of who your father was."

Tessie snorted. "What kind of shelter is that, turning a girl into a harlot?"

Charlotte turned on her girlfriend's mother with flashing eyes. "Alex did not turn me into a harlot. I was her handmaid for years. I decided to work in the house in Port Royal when she sold it to your daughter."

"You had a handmaid?" Kay asked, amazed that anyone could afford such a thing.

"I wasn't a harlot," Alex said. "I was… I was a courtesan."

"Oh," Kay said.

"Hmm," Tessie said.

Will was a bit confused about the distinction, but he was sure Jack would explain it later.

Jack only heard what Alex said in the vaguest manner possible, because he was concentrating on a tiny sliver of skin he'd found, uncovered, between Will's shirt and Will's trousers. Soft, soft golden skin begging to be licked, but there were children about, not close enough to hear but close enough to see, so he had to be content with the whisper of silken skin against his fingertips.

"I don't know anything about what my father did before we sailed to the Caribbean," Elizabeth said. "He was rarely home. It was my mother's passing that made him decide to come here. I'm sorry if he was responsible for your father's death." Elizabeth was a little red in the face, and not just where the handprint showed. Being so polite to Charlotte was not easy for one so proud.

Alex stroked the back of Elizabeth's hand. She would reward the girl for her civility later.

"I'm sorry I called your father a bastard," Will said as he lifted his hand to Jack's forehead. "It's not my place."

Jack wiggled his fingers under Will's waistband. "S'okay. He was a right bastard."

Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"Jonathon," Alex called out, and the lad returned.

He surveyed the pirate. "Is that him?" he said plainly.

Will couldn't believe it. It was like seeing a younger version of Jack. Especially around the eyes, in spite of the lack of kohl. And the wrists. Slim wrists protruded from rolled up sleeves. But with dark skin, the same colour as Kay's, lovely and smooth.

Jack pursed his lips, skewed them to one side. He didn't know what to say.

"Looks a bit like me, doesn't he?" Jonathon said.

Everyone had to nod in agreement.

"Can I go up to the watchpost with Frank?"

Alex nodded and the boy was gone.

"That went well," Elizabeth said wryly.

Jack snarled at her.

"You'll get to know him later," Will suggested.

Jack nodded and eased his fingers another inch into Will's trousers.

"I'm very pleased I met your brother in Port Royal," Alex said to Kay. "He was ever so helpful in contacting your other brother and arranging our passage here. It's a lovely island. Do you think I could get a tour of the village?"

Kay nodded and rose to show her all that had been built since the settlement began.

Tessie turned to look at Bootstrap, who had his eyes fixed on Jack's fingers in Will's pants. She hissed at him and he blushed. Jesus, she liked the look of him with a blush on his face, no matter how it got there. She stood up and took his hand. Bootstrap looked around helplessly, but he had no choice but to follow. She was insatiable, ever since she'd got with child. He was going to be worn out by the time the baby was born.

Anamaria pulled Charlotte away from the table. She was worried about Charlotte taking offence to Elizabeth's presence again. And she was worried that Charlotte might decide to blurt out some of the less than savoury details Charlotte had informed Anamaria of, regarding the Commodore's visits to the brothel. She was sure that Elizabeth would not want to hear what her husband used to get up to before their marriage.

That left Elizabeth, Will and Jack with his hand down the side of Will's pants.

"Will, I, um, well..." Elizabeth fidgeted with a teacup.

"So, how are you?" Will asked, ever polite.

"Fine. And you?"

He shrugged. "I'm fine as well."

Jack growled. "Not that your husband tying him up and tossing him overboard contributed in any way to his good health, mind you."

Elizabeth paled. "What?"

Will, haltingly, gave a description of the events on the Interceptor II that had lead to Norrington's capture.

Jack tried not to listen. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the heroic picture Will painted of him, but he knew that if he thought too hard about Will almost drowning he would get emotional, and the last thing he wanted was to get emotional in front of that wench.

Elizabeth nodded when Will was finished. "I know now that James can be cruel. He was very proper to me before all that happened, but he wasn't the same after. I mean, after the demotion."

Jack didn't try to hide his snicker.

Elizabeth glared at him. "I don't think you were so kind! You could have at least sent them home clothed!"

Will shook his head. "We needed the clothes. The people from the slave ship had nothing to wear. You should have seen the state most of them were in! It was the only thing to do."

Elizabeth looked around at the various people trying to ignore her, going about their work as if there hadn't been any disturbance at all. She could hear them talking, though, and she just knew they were talking about her. And why not? After all, her father was the governor of Port Royal. And her arrival had been somewhat dramatic. "So, that's who these people are? Slaves?"

Will glanced around the courtyard. "Oh no, no one here is a slave. These are all free people, and we plan to keep it that way."

Elizabeth understood. "That's good." She nodded. "I like that idea very much. I think what you're doing here is wonderful. Really."

Will looked at her, a little doubtfully. "Really?"

"Yes. You've created a place where everyone can be free to do what they want. No one owns anyone else. You and Jack are free to…" she blushed. "…do whatever you want. Anamaria and Charlotte… I suppose Alex and I would be free to do whatever we wanted as well."

Will blanched. "You and Alex." He hadn't really realized. Elizabeth and Alex. After all, Jack's sister had called Elizabeth her girlfriend.

Elizabeth's smile brightened when she saw Alex and Kay returning.

"What a lovely settlement!" Alex said cheerfully. "But I am very tired. Matthew says we can rest aboard the Interceptor if we like. Will you join me, my dear?"

Elizabeth rose and took Alex's hand, and they walked off toward the cove.

Will stared after them, open-mouthed.

"Not polite to stare," Kay said.

Will snapped his mouth shut and stood abruptly.

Jack grimaced as his hand, still firmly wedged between trousers and silky soft hip, was wrenched upwards and he was forced to stand.

Kay winced in sympathy.

"Well," Will said. "I suppose I should be getting back to work."

Work? Jack blinked. Work? Ah, yes, cleaning the Pearl. He crooked his fingers against Will's hip. Will, with his shirt off, soaking wet, muscles gleaming and straining and bulging and flexing. That was his favourite sort of work.

"Work, indeed. It's good for the soul, is it not?"

He shuffled to get into pace with Will as they walked back to the beach, without taking his hand out of Will's pants.

"Jack, I won't be able to get much done with your hand there."

Jack smiled. "That's alright, luv. I'm sure the lads have finished the job by now. We could go aboard and see if anything needs to be done there."

"I don't think we'll be able to climb aboard with your hand there."

"Ah, yes, well, we're fine then too, because I happen to know a lovely clearing by a pond…"

Kay smiled. Those two. Rapscallions.

Now, she thought to herself, where was her husband?

---

Chapter 85 - Meant to Be

A shining sword glittered as it swung through the air, and Will Turner spun deftly to avoid the blow. His opponent, black eyes glowing with the thrill of battle, laughed and lunged again. Will neatly sidestepped once more.

"He's very good," Jack said. "A lot of pirates don't give Will that much of a workout."

"And I'll bet no one gives Will a workout quite like you do, Jonathon," Alex smirked.

Jack turned his head to look at his sister's face. "You were always so quiet and proper. When did you develop this naughty streak, eh?"

"Oh, I suppose it was around the time I moved to Paris to become a courtesan."

Jack winced. "Touche."

"What about you, my dear brother? You were always the sensitive, artistic type. I thought you'd end up a poet or a painter in some drafty atelier somewhere, with a young apprentice mixing your paints for you, and feeding you grapes when you took a break."

Jack couldn't imagine that. "Me?"

"Hmm, and it is peculiar, but in my mind the apprentice always looked a little like your young man out there." She waved her hand in the direction of Will and Jonathon, who were sparring on the other side of the clearing.

Jack watched his lover and his son.

His son.

He still had a little trouble with that concept, but it was growing on him. Will was showing Jonathon how to grip the hilt of his sword when performing a certain type of lunge. Jonathon was eagerly trying new things, improving by the minute. It was nice they got along so well. Maybe. It might have been unnerving, that Will connected with the boy so easily. Of course, he was closer in age to the boy. Closer in age to the boy than he was to Jack. Jack frowned.

"You pictured me with a young man?"

She nodded sagely. "From the time I was able to picture you as older, there was always a man with you. Do you think I have some sort of ability to see the future?"

"I always thought you were a little too quiet. A little scary. Maybe a bit…"

"Witchy? Yes, I've been accused of that. Dangerous business, being accused of being a witch, you know. But I've always survived. Always will."

They stood in silence for a while. Jack kept looking sideways at Alex, to see if she showed any sign at all of jesting. But she gazed evenly at the two figured fighting on the sand with a most solemn expression.

"You don't have to be a father to him, you know. But he wanted to meet you. And I had to tell you about the inheritance."

Jack nodded.

"He likes you. He's quite thrilled his father is a pirate, and a famous one, at that."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Famous, eh?"

Alex grinned. "Yes, dear. Infamous, even. Tales of the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow have reached England's shores. I wasn't sure, at first, that it was you. But as soon as I spotted him…" She pointed at Will again.

Jack was aghast. "Alex, you haven't seen me since you were fifteen. How on earth could you have known?"

She patted his cheek. "I was always precocious, and you were fairly obvious, even then. I'm not saying anything bad about you, dear. Look at me. My lover is a much younger woman. Mother always said you and I were alike."

Jack looked at her face. He couldn't find his sister pretty. She looked too much like him. It was disconcerting, like looking in a mirror. He wondered if he looked as much like her as she looked like him.

"So, you don't like men then, eh?"

Alex shrugged. Gracefully. She was always graceful. Poised. On display. "It isn't so much that I don't like them. I'd just had enough of them. Mixing business and pleasure is dreary after a time. I simply decided to take my pleasure elsewhere. And, believe me, there is much pleasure to be taken."

"From… Elizabeth?" Jack tried to wrap his head around the idea, but he couldn't quite manage.

"She's a delightful girl. Very feisty."

"If you like that sort of thing," Jack muttered.

"Inexperienced, but eager to learn. I imagine your Will is much the same way. Or at least he was."

Jack stiffened. He didn't think he wanted to hear comparisons of Will and Elizabeth.

"She had such a dreadful time with her husband, Jack, it was awful for her. I've never met him, but I'm sure he prefers men, judging by the way he treated her. And by what he did with Charlotte."

Jack was sure he didn't want to hear what Norrington used to do with Charlotte.

"He only ever used her mouth, made the poor girl get on her knees every time. He wasn't mean to her at all, but it was pretty obvious he was pretending she was one of his sailors."

He'd been right. He hadn't wanted to hear that at all.

"And then with Elizabeth, oh, awful. No preparation, no romance, just in and out, in out, without so much as a by your leave."

And there was no way in hell he'd wanted to know that.

"So I wasn't surprised when I heard about him tying Will up like that and…"

"Alex!"

She stopped talking and looked at her brother, stunned by the vehemence of his shout.

Jack took a deep breath. His hands shot up, waving in the air randomly at first but settling in a pattern that was clearly meant to tell her to stop talking. Pushing her words back where he couldn't hear them. He swallowed hard. "I know the former Commodore is… I know what he's like… I don't like to be reminded of it, savvy?"

She stroked his arm. "Of course, dear. I'm sorry. Kay told me everything. That was so brave of you, diving in after Will like that. And I'm so happy you two are together."

That did soothe him. He breathed easier and looked over at Will, happy and healthy. Laughing as he talked to Jack's son.

Jack's son.

"So, Tessie's husband is Will's father. Isn't that quite the coincidence?" Alex was back to watching the sparring.

"Hmm. That's not the half of it," Jack smirked.

Alex bit her lip. "You don't mean…"

Jack nodded. She would find out sooner or later. Might as well tell her now.

"You and Tessie's husband?"

"I didn't know about Marina back then," Jack tried to explain. Justify. Come to think of it, he and Bootstrap met around the same time he made that visit to Nassau Port. His eyes narrowed. The coincidences were uncanny. "About Jonathon, I mean. And Bootstrap didn't know about Will. How could he have, we'd never met… "

"And what about the curse?"

"What curse?" How did she know about the curse?

"Matthew told me about the curse."

Bloody Matthew.

"And Marina told me about the pirates buying back the gold pieces from her. They must have been cursed too."

"Aye," Jack said, warily.

"But you weren't cursed. Was Bootstrap?"

Jack looked around the clearing to see if anyone might be listening. "Alex, I don't think Tessie knows about the curse. I don't think William told her, and I don't think he wants her to know, really." Might make him a tad less attractive, if she'd know he was a day away from being a walking skeleton when she met him.

"I won't say a word!" She promised. Somehow, he had trouble believing that, but she was his long lost sister. It wasn't as if he could call her out.

She watched Will dive sideways onto the ground, and watched Jonathon mimic his moves perfectly. "You and Bootstrap." She whistled low. "And now you and Will. And from what Elizabeth told me…"

Jack felt his face turn red. "What did that wench say?"

Alex laughed. "Don't be so upset about it. And don't call my girlfriend ‘wench'!" She punched his arm playfully, like she used to when they were kids. "She didn't go into any great detail. She just told me that you and Will seemed, um, very close."

Jack's eyes shut. Jesus, how long had that wench been watching?

"And that you were both very beautiful."

Jack sniffed. He couldn't dispute Will's beauty, even if he wasn't as sure of his own.

"And that you looked to be very much in love."

Jack wouldn't argue with that one.

Jonathon rushed over to them. "Did you see? Isn't he marvellous! Will's such a great swordsman, and he's going to teach me everything!"

"That's lovely, dear, but I won't have you neglecting the rest of your studies. Now go on back to the village. Your grandmother will have some lunch for you, and then Uncle Alphonse is going to do your lessons with you."

Will smiled at the brother and sister. He would never stop being amazed by how much they looked alike. He would never stop being dumbfounded by Elizabeth being involved with Jack's sister, since he knew how much Elizabeth professed to despise Jack.

Alex reached inside her bodice and pulled out a locket on a gold chain. "Have I shown you this, Will?"

He shook his head, and watched as she opened it. Inside were two tiny miniatures, incredibly detailed faces with matching black eyes and hair, the same mouth, the same face, almost. One was Alex, young and pretty. The other was Jack. Also young and pretty, or at least Will thought so.

"My brother painted these for my fourteenth birthday," Alex said. "Such a talent."

Will stared at them in wonder.

"I ‘aven't painted in years," Jack mumbled. "'m sure I don't remember how."

"They're beautiful."

Alex snapped the locket shut. "Yes, and I see my brother still has an eye for beauty." She tilted Will's chin to one side, her fingers under his beard. "Lovely. Almost enough to make a woman… hmmm. I'm going off to find Elizabeth, if you'll excuse me."

Will rubbed his chin where her fingers had been.

"Nosy, she is," Jack muttered.

Will grinned. "I like her. She's very nice to me, and Jonathon is a fine lad. Isn't this wonderful, Jack? I mean, it's as if it was meant to be."

Jack shook his head as if to clear it. "What are you talking about?"

Will grabbed his hand. "Well, I thought I was in love with Elizabeth all those years, and now Elizabeth is your sister's lover."

"Just how the devil is that ‘meant to be'?"

"I think it's destiny. You know, my father and you, then my father married Tessie, and her daughter had a baby by you. Then your sister met Marina. It all makes sense." Will was babbling. When he got excited, sometimes, he babbled. Jack sucked in his breath and held it, waiting for the babbling to come to an end. "And Elizabeth's father killed Charlotte's father, which isn't a good thing, but it led to Charlotte being Alex's maid and meeting Marina, and then meeting Anamaria, and she knew Elizabeth's husband before they were married. I knew him too, of course. Everybody in Port Royal knows him, so that's not much of a coincidence." Jack squinted his eyes shut. A dull pain had started to spread behind them. "But now Anamaria is having your baby, so her baby will be Jonathon's cousin. And his brother too. Or sister. And when Tessie has her baby I'll be a brother, and your son will be his, um, nephew I think. I love having a family."

Jack opened one eye. Will seemed to be finished. He was grinning and wiping the blade of his sword clean with a rag.

"Are you done, then?"

Will bobbed his head happily, still grinning.

Jack turned suddenly, pushed Will back against the sturdy trunk of a palm and grabbed Will's wrists, which he pressed down and against the tree. "Good, because there's only one coincidence I'm actually interested in, savvy?" he growled into Will's ear.

Will shuddered and dark lashes fell across his cheeks. Jack's hot breath in his ear made his spine tingle, and a hard thigh was pressing between his legs, forcing them apart.

Jack licked around the rim of Will's ear. "See, I hid in a smithy one day, and this beautiful man walked in the door." He pulled Will's arms back so he could grab the two wrists together on the other side of the tree. Then he had a free hand, which he proceeded to rub along the outside of Will's thigh. "He was splendid, you know," Jack whispered between licks of Will's neck. "He had these long, muscular legs," Jack squeezed the muscle under his hand. "And powerful arms. Strong he was, and an excellent fighter."

Will moaned when he felt Jack's hard cock slide into alignment with his.

"Oh yes," Jack continued, licking across Will's throat. "He fought me. And with every thrust and parry, every move, I wanted him more and more. His shirt fell open in the midst of battle, and I wanted to lean forward and lick the sweat from it." He did just that, and could feel Will's heart pounded under his tongue.

"He would have chopped your head off if you'd done that," Will said breathlessly.

"Aye, it probably wouldn't have been worth the risk. But as we fought I noticed more about him." Jack pressed his whole body against Will's and writhed. "His beautiful limbs, his lovely chest, those were just the beginning. His face was perfect." Jack moved his hand up to stroke Will's flushed cheek. "Really, you have to see it to believe it, it's gorgeous, mate. He has the most stunning eyes, all fire and water and chocolate."

Will frowned. "Chocolate?"

Jack looked into his eyes. "Chocolate. Melting, sweet chocolate, like the Aztecs drink. But his taste, oh, his taste is better than chocolate." He licked across Will's lips, and was not surprised when they parted from the pressure of his tongue. "I could just taste him forever and be happy."

Will wriggled his hips so his cock dragged under Jack's. "I don't believe you."

Jack chuckled. "Smart lad. Of course I want more than just to taste him. I want to feel every inch of him. I want to touch him, lick him, kiss him…" Jack had to stop talking because his mouth was full of Will's tongue. They twisted together against the tree for a minute, mouths devouring, Jack's hand roaming everywhere, Will's arms straining against his hold, legs entwined, until Will finally broke free. He grabbed Jack's shoulders and rolled his hips forward.

"So what was the coincidence?"

Jack grabbed around his waist and the two of them tumbled to the leaves and sand.

" I wonder, are they always like that?" Alex said from the shade of the trees on the other side of the clearing. "So passionate?"

Elizabeth, walking next to her in search of some privacy, had to concentrate to a ridiculous degree to get any words out. "Pretty well all the time, Kay tells me," she said finally. "Kay just wishes they would be a little more careful. The children might see."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. Her brother tossed Will's shirt over his shoulder and was shimmying out of his own trousers. He stopped all movement when Will pushed his own trousers down over his slim hips, and then Jack suddenly dove down to take Will's cock in his mouth. "My, my, that is very… passionate."

"I think there's a more secluded spot a little further up the trail," Elizabeth said, unable to take her eyes off Will's frantically arching back and flailing arms. "Whatever is he doing to him?" Then the two of them shifted and she could see Jack's arm between Will's legs, and she had no trouble imagining where his fingers were.

"Really, Elizabeth. It's most improper for us to be ogling my brother and your ex-fiancé like this. Now where did you say that clearing was?"

Jack lapped at the head of Will's cock and grinned. The coincidence? Why, that man who walked into the smithy was the same man he would fall in love with.

*****

Go to the Interlude: All Tessie's Children 4

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Haleth