Title: Trouble in Paradise -- part 1
Pairing: Jack Sparrow/Will Turner
Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sue, don't ask, don't tell

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All things considered, Will mused, things weren't always as they seemed.

That made more sense to him now that he'd got a few glasses of whiskey in him.

He leaned sideways automatically, instinctually dodging a pewter tankard as it flew across the room, ending atop a large bald man's head. Predictably, the man took umbrage at this and wheeled around quickly, looking for the culprit. Will wasn't who he was looking for, but as he was right in the middle of the two men, he decided to quit the premises for the time being. He was running low on money anyway.

He slipped out the door just as the chairs started to fly. He slipped his hand inside his pocket, checking the contents of his moneybag. It was considerably lighter than when he'd gone out. He frowned, an expression not usually at home on his handsome face. But more and more lately, he'd found reason to frown.

He loved Elizabeth, truly he did. He'd loved her since she'd rescued him so many years ago. But he didn't seem to be *in love* with her any more. Since their marriage, things had changed. Things that he used to love doing were not possible any more. He had to dress in nobleman's clothes, and he found them stiff and starched and wholly uncomfortable. He absolutely refused to wear the undergarments his valet laid out for him. They were far too restrictive.

But worst of all, was the fact that it, according to the Governor, it just wasn't seemly for the husband of his daughter to work as a lowly blacksmith. Never mind that Will's true calling was producing precision swords that many men would covet; the man only saw the anvil and the forge.

Elizabeth sympathised, of course, but her father's word was law, and she went along with it. So Will was forced to live a life of leisure, and he didn't like it one bit.

Lately, he'd taken to slinking out late at night, dressed in more common, more comfortable clothes. He escaped to the relative anonymity of the sailor's bars, ones where people were transient and no one would recognise him as the Governor's son-in-law.

He hated taking money from Elizabeth, but as he couldn't earn any of his own, he was forced to. So he took as little as possible.

He leaned back in an alley, thinking of the fun he and Jack had had. Funny, but in retrospect, it never seemed as scary as it had been, and their triumphs seemed bigger. Memories were funny that way, especially when he had no new adventures to look forward to.

He'd even tried to join the military, but again the Governor wouldn't hear of it.

So started going out, trying to drown his sorrows, just getting out of that stifling house with its lace and endless brocade.

He was looking for something, but he wasn't sure what. Or he was, but he wasn't ready to admit it to himself.

Every time he heard news of a pirate ship, he'd strain his ears to find out if it was the Black Pearl. He suspected he was getting a bit obsessed, but he couldn't help it. He found himself thinking of Captain Jack Sparrow more and more.

The day he'd woken up from an erotic dream, hard and wet, with an image of Jack fixed firmly in his mind, he'd drunk nearly an entire bottle of whiskey.

It hadn't helped.

He'd thought it was a fluke, but the next time Elizabeth had acted like she wanted him to make love to her, he'd panicked and pleaded illness. Suddenly the thought of her womanly curves was replaced in his mind by Jack's burning eyes and tanned skin.

He had a problem.

Now, of course, he wanted to see Jack even more; not only to liven up his life but to see just what his problem was.

The problem was, he couldn't just ask someone to take him to the Black Pearl. So he hung out in the bars, listening for a clue, a hint of what his old friend was up to.

He wasn't having a great deal of luck.

He pushed himself off the wall of the alley, deciding to try another bar, and made his way to the street.

Before he made it there, however, the light from the streetlights was blocked out, and he felt himself shoved roughly against the wall.

He struggled, but without his sword, the slim Will was hopelessly outmatched. His attackers were big and brawny and though Will fought back mightily, landing several kicks, he was soon overpowered. A sharp blow to the back of his head and the lights went out for good.

+

Will awoke slowly, and the feeling that something was seriously amiss increased as he regained consciousness. He slowly took stock of the situation.

He was quite obviously not in Elizabeth's overly-soft feather bed. Nor was he on the couch in the sitting room where he had been known to sleep.

For one thing, he was upright, and that was unusual.

His head felt like he'd been run over by a horse or two, but that wasn't unusual.

His wrists seemed to be restrained, and that wasn't even a fantasy he'd had.

The room seemed to be moving, pitching as if he was on a ship. That was interesting, as he hadn't been on a ship since he and Elizabeth had gotten married.

He chanced opening his eyes, and he instantly regretted it.

Even the candlelight that was the room's only illumination hurt his eyes. He felt like his mouth was stuffed with a dirty rag.

Squinting, he tried to make out the details of the room. He appeared to be chained in the hold of a medium-sized ship. The floor was slightly damp, and the entire room smelled as if it hadn't been dry for years. There were broken boxes and scattered bits of debris strewn about the room. He was chained to a wall, his wrists bound by a length of chain threaded through a loop of metal bolted to the wall. His feet were unbound, but a few experimental tugs on his wrists showed that he was securely stuck.

And the question of why he was here looked to be answered soon, as he could hear heavy boots descending the stairs.

Will decided to pretend that he was still unconscious, to perhaps lull his captors into a false sense of security. Perhaps they didn't know who he was.

That hope was dashed as the man stopped in front of him and bellowed in a harsh voice, "Mr. Turner! You through with your beauty sleep yet?" The man was perhaps six feet away, and Will could smell him already. Did these sailors never bathe? They were surrounded by water, after all, it couldn't be that difficult. Jack had never smelled bad like this, he had always smelled of spiced rum and... he was getting distracted. He opened one eye carefully; if anything, the man smelled better than he looked.

Completely bald, corpulent and filthy, the man stood beaming at Will as if he was a long lost brother, and he was almost certainly a pirate. Will wrinkled his nose and tried not to breathe through it. Belatedly, it registered that the man had called him by name. That couldn't be good.

"Ah, don't be shy, Mr. Turner, speak up!" the man said jovially, grinning wide enough for Will to see that he'd never heard of dental hygiene. "Cat got yer tongue?" The man seemed to find this disproportionately amusing, and he spent several moments guffawing loudly. Will gritted his teeth.

He couldn't stand it any more. "What do you want with me?" he demanded.

The pirate sobered instantly. "Why, Mr. Turner, I woulda thought that'd be obvious to a smart man such as y'rself," he said. When Will just glared at him, the man went on. "Well, when my boys found you in the alleyway, they was just about robbin' ye. They found your moneybag, and it wasn' even worth the trouble. But then," the pirate went on, leaning forward conspiratorially and making Will wince from the smell, "My first mate realised who ye were." The pirate leaned back again, and Will breathed a small sigh of relief. "Will Turner, the new husband of the Governor's daughter! Worth a pretty penny in ransom, no doubt, he thought, so they brought ye here. We figured we'd best put out to sea b'fore ye was discovered missin' so's we could decide what to do."

"Shit," hissed Will. He was screwed. No doubt the Governor would pay his ransom, but he'd never hear the end of it, and Elizabeth would never understand. And he'd certainly never be able to find Jack. He'd be lucky to ever leave the house again.

The pirate chucked unpleasantly. "Ye really oughta be more careful, Mr. Turner. Wanderin' round them bars all by your lonesome... what with you bein' bout as pretty as a girl yerself..." The man laughed again, and without another word, turned and stomped back up the stairs, leaving Will to contemplate his fate.

The next few days passed uneventfully; Will was kept chained to the wall, only being freed so he could use the bathroom occasionally. He was fed just enough to keep him from starving.

Then one day the Captain stormed down the stairs in a foul temper. He stood in front of Will and glared at him. "Looks like yer little wifey ain't so happy with ye after all," he growled. Will looked up at him curiously. "The govn'r won't pay our price. "'E's wantin' to *negotiate*," he spat out the word as if it were vile. He struck Will across the face hard enough to make him see stars, and he sagged against his bindings. "I don't negotiate," he said darkly and stormed out of the room.

Will decided he was really in trouble. The Governor was well known as tightfisted, but he didn't think the man was arrogant enough to negotiate with pirates. No doubt Commodore Norrington was involved somehow.

Just as he was really beginning to worry, the ship listed alarmingly to starboard and he could hear a cry of alarm from abovedecks. The sound of cannons and swords confirmed what Will had already guessed; the ship was under attack. But from whom? Another pirate ship? The royal navy? Perhaps the Governor had decided to try to take him back by force rather than waste his money. If so, they'd better be boarding quickly, because water was rapidly filling the hold from some unseen leak.

He struggled against his bindings; suddenly, some of his less pleasant memories were coming back, now. Drowning in the hold of a ship hadn't really been his plan.

Maniacal laughter preceded a pair of black boots down the wooden stairs, and Will suddenly knew he'd heard that voice before.

Swords clanged, and a heavy body slid down the stairs to rest in front of Will. It was the ship's captain, and he was either unconscious or dead, he couldn't tell. The sound of a sword being sheathed and Will glanced up into the heavily-kohled eyes of Captain Jack Sparrow. A wide grin showed gold teeth and Will had never been happier to see anyone in his life.

"Jack!" he cried. "Thank god!"

"Will," drawled Jack, peering closely at the bindings and Will, in turn. "Heard you got yourself into a bit of trouble and thought I ought to bring the Pearl around for a look-see. Seeing as I was in the neighborhood, of course."

"Well, I'm very happy to see you," Will replied, rattling the chains holding him significantly. "Now, if you'll just..."

But Jack interrupted, putting one hand on the wall by Will's head and leaning close. "What were you thinking, Will my boy?" He shook his head. "Consorting with pirates! You could have been killed!"

Will was torn by Jack's closeness and the fact that the ship was rapidly sinking. "I know, Jack, I'm sorry and I won't do it again, just please get me out of here? This ship is sinking!"

Jack glanced around the room with every evidence of surprise, as if he truly hadn't noticed the massive leak until now.

Will went on, "Let me loose, Jack, come on! Let's get out of here!"

Will watched anxiously as Jack glanced up at the chains securing him to the wall, pulled at them, and looked worried. "They're locked, Will!"

Will fought back a sharp retort with difficulty. Did Jack think he'd been staying here for fun? "I know, Jack! Find the key to the padlock!"

Jack looked around the room helplessly, hands on hips. "Well, how'm I s'posed to do that? In case you hadn't noticed, this ship is sinking!"

"I know!" cried Will, almost losing his temper. "The key..."

But again Jack interrupted, pulling his pistol out unsteadily and aiming vaguely at Will's head. "Hol' still, m' gonna have to shoot you lose..."

"NO!" Will screamed this time. "Get the key! From HIM! The captain! He'll have it!"

Jack glanced around, clearly bemused, still waving the pistol vaguely. "Where's the captain?" he asked.

"ON THE FLOOR! HIM!" screamed Will, unable to point but moving his head vigorously in the direction of the man on the floor. "SAVVY?"

"Oh," said Jack, finally cottoning on. "Right." He holstered his pistol, much to Will's relief, and shuffled over to the man to look for keys. He winced, wrinkling his nose, and looked up at Will. "You sure about this? Cause I really don't want to touch him..."

"YES!" yelled Will at the top of his lungs, rattling his chains as the ship shuddered.

"All right, all right, you don't have to yell," grumbled Jack, pulling a ring of keys off the man's belt with obvious distaste. He ambled back to Will, far too slowly in his opinion, peering at the various keys. "Why does he have to have so many keys? Bloody idiot, poor excuse for a pirate, gives us all a bad name, he does..." Suddenly, he held up a key triumphantly. "That's the one!" He leaned closer, reaching for the padlock that held Will's chains fast to the wall.

Fuck. Will held still as, despite the imminent danger, his body reacted to the closeness of the man he'd been fantasizing about for months. He held his breath as Jack leaned close enough for a kiss, his eyes caught in Jack's, his face flushing.

In the middle of unlocking the padlock, Jack paused, staring deep into Will's eyes. "It's a damn shame, freeing you, young Will. You look damned good chained to a wall." Jack blinked then, and shook his head. "Did I say that out loud?" He turned the key, and the chains fell, now only attached to Will's wrists.

Will's mouth had dropped open, his mind barely registering the fact that he was free, and he nodded indistinctly, not even knowing if Jack wanted an answer.

But Jack appeared to have forgotten he'd asked, and now he bounded up the stairs. "Come on, Mr. Turner! This boat's a-sinking!"

"I can see that!" Will yelled back. He shook his wrists, still surrounded by metal bands that held the chain. "What about these?" His former desire was rapidly sliding back into annoyance.

"Oh," said Jack vaguely, walking back toward Will. "You're very picky."

Will made a noise of frustration and seriously considered throttling Jack with the chain. But then the other man produced another key, and the manacles fell to the floor. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," growled Will, and followed him to the ship's deck, where the crew (many of which waved hello at Will) were commencing mop-up operations, otherwise known as stealing everything that wasn't bolted down before the ship sank.

Finally, they were all back on the Black Pearl, the surviving pirates set free on a small rowboat without any oars, and they were making for... well, somewhere only Jack knew, as he stood at the wheel, singing obscene songs to himself, off-key.

Will came up behind Jack, nervous now that there were no other duties for him to help with, yet really wanting to talk to the older man. "Jack?"

Grinning his gold-toothed smile, Jack wheeled around, letting go of the wheel momentarily before regaining control. "Will, my boy! Splendid. I'm sorry to tell you I've got to put into port over this side before I take you back to Port Royal. We need supplies."

A pang went through him as he remembered why he had gotten into this mess. "That's fine," he said vaguely, wondering how to tell Jack he absolutely was not going back.

Jack peered at him with concern. "You look like shit, Will," he commented. Sniffing, he added, you smell like it, too. Why don't you get some sleep, and when we dock I'll show you to m'favorite secluded lagoon. Best place to bathe, y'know."

Suddenly, sleeping sounded like the best thing in the world. "Ok," Will agreed. "Is there a spare bunk somewhere?" Truthfully, he didn't care if it was a spare section of deck, he was so tired.

"Oh, you can bunk in my cabin, Will, I insist on it!" said Jack, and Will's eyes must have widened, because he added, smirking, "Don't worry, my boy, there's an extra bed. Your virtue is safe."

Will wanted to say that he didn't want his virtue saved, he wanted it ravished, but it was too soon. Jack's flippant comments aside, he really wasn't sure the other man wasn't just joking. "Oh," he said in a small voice. "See you later, then."

And he made his way to the Captain's cabin, climbing into the unused bunk, not even bothering with a blanket or to undress. He felt a quick thrill that he was in Jack's room, before sleep overtook him and he was oblivious to everything.

Continued in part 2