* * * * * * * * * * *
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