Author: Lostiawen

E-mail: changeling@planetx.org

Rated: NC-17

Pairing: Will/Jack

Summary: Complications from the previous night arise. 

Archive: Parley, my site.  All others please ask.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Warnings: Some angst. 

Disclaimer: The characters within are the property of Disney.  The author does not own, and is not making a profit off of their depiction here. 

Author´s Notes: Sorry that this took so long, but RL has been a bitch.  That, and my Will and Jack muses were being stubborn. 

Many thanks to Salix for her help and suggestions!

Posted May 17, 2004. 

Bootstrap grimaced at the sight of the setting sun through Jack´s cabin window. He could have sworn that it was dawn when he had last looked... He felt very disoriented -- after all, he never required sleep while he was cursed, and he was still trying to get used to it again. 

He leered as he smelled Jack´s scent on the pillows. Memories of the previous night came rushing to him and he felt a warm flush through his body. The night was hot, so he pulled on a pair of breeches and walked out onto the deck. 

The crew was busy, and Elizabeth was helping Cotton with unfurling the sails. She spotted Bootstrap and waved. "Good evening, Mr. Turner," she said in a cheerful voice. 

"Evenin´," he replied. "Where´s m´boy? He should be well awake." 

Elizabeth frowned. "I don´t know. He was supposed to be on duty an hour ago and it´s not like him to sleep in. I asked Jack to change Will´s shift because he didn´t sleep very well last night." 

"Oh?"  Bootstrap asked. "And why´s that?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Don´t be bloody daft, you and Jack made quite a row during your reunion," she said. "Will was still up after I ceded control of the Pearl." 

Bootstrap said in mock horror, "Why Miss Swann, what´s a proper lady like yerself doin´ listening to intimate moments?" 

In a voice as cool as a sea breeze, she replied, "One, we´ve established that I´m not a lady. And two, it was difficult to ignore both of you when Jack started wailing like a banshee." 

Bootstrap guffawed. "Aye, that he does. An´ ye´ll be hearin´ more of it for days to come. We have a lot to catch up on." 

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose that I´ll have to procure some earmuffs, then."  She frowned again. "Would it be too much trouble to ask you to check on Will, Mr. Turner? This really isn´t like him and I can´t leave my post." 

Bootstrap nodded. "That I will."  He walked down to the First Mate´s cabin in long, easy strides. "Son?"  he asked, tapping on the door. "Are ye all right?" 

Will´s voice was faint. "I´m fine," he replied. "I think I´m a little ill from the rum last night." 

A frown crossed Bootstrap´s face. Will was a sturdy lad, and he didn´t think a small amount of alcohol would affect his boy. In fact, Will had been blindingly fast with his sword in the Lusty Mermaid, despite the fact that he had been suffering from the mother of all hangovers...

"That´s a load o´ bollocks, Will. A little drink would never slow ye down." 

"I, um, had a lot while you weren´t looking." 

Bootstrap snorted. "I may have been drunk off my arse, William Turner the Second, but I can still remember everythin´ that happened last night, and ye didn´t touch a drop. Now, c´n yer father come in, or will I have to break the door down and paddle ye like a child?" 

He heard a heavy sigh. "Very well. Enter." 

Bootstrap opened the door, and spied Will huddled in a small heap on the bunk. His back was to the door and the blankets were coiled in a tight cocoon around him. 

Bootstrap sat down on the edge of the mattress and said gently, "What´s botherin´ ye, son?" 

In a tiny voice, Will replied, "Nothing."  He kept his back turned away from his father. 

Growling, Bootstrap seized Will by the shoulder and yanked him down onto the bed. Will´s sable brown eyes were full of alarm and distress. 

"Will," Bootstrap said in a firm voice. "This´ll eat yer alive. Talk t´me." 

"I-it´s not that easy," Will replied, his bottom lip quivering. 

Bootstrap patted the mop of wavy hair. "Will, yer one o´ the most courageous men I know. Ye faced down hordes of the undead, let yerself be dragged along on Jack´s hair brained plans, and ye faced Miss Swann´s wrath. Now, don´t ye think ye could tell your own father what´s troubling ye?" 

"Um, all right...it´s, uh, it´s about Jack," Will said, looking embarrassed. 

"What about the scalawag?"  Bootstrap asked. He remembered Elizabeth´s earlier remarks. "Did he not treat ye proper this morn?"  Bootstrap asked. 

"No!"  Will blurted out, the hastiness indicating that he was concealing something. 

Bootstrap´s face darkened. "What has Jack done?" 

"Nothing!" 

The elder Turner´s voice lowered until it was a deep rasp. "Will, don´t lie to yer father. What did Jack do t´ye after he went on deck?" 

"Um...after you went to sleep...Jack came up and Elizabeth gave him the wheel. Afterwards, he, uh..." Will turned beet red, unable to continue. 

"What? Tell me!" 

"Um, he insisted on kissing me and I tried to get away, but he wouldn´t let me be...then, uhm, he...touched me...uhm, intimately..." Will mumbled. 

It took a moment for Bootstrap to put everything together. When he did, his mind couldn´t believe that Jack would be that inconsiderate at first. Could his lover be so oblivious as to try to swive Will with the reek of their sex still on him? 

Looking at Will´s trembling form, Bootstrap realized that ravishing was exactly what Jack had done. His mouth set in a thin line before he stormed onto the deck. 

"Jack Sparrow!"  he roared. The tone of pure rage in his voice caused most of the crewmembers to scatter. 

Jack, as usual, was drifting in his usual imperceptive fog. "What is it, William?"  he called out from his post at the wheel. 

Bootstrap didn´t reply. Instead, he took several long strides towards Jack and punched him squarely on the face. As Jack tumbled to the ground he spat, "Ye deserved that for what ye did t´me boy this morn. An´ ye can also ferget about me warmin´ yer bed from now on. Have a good evenin´, Captain Sparrow."  He turned on his heel and went below deck, making a stop at the Captain´s quarters before he returned to Will´s cabin. 

Will looked up, twitching with nervousness when Bootstrap arrived. The elder Turner held out a small flask. "Drink," he said in a gruff voice. 

"Um, I don´t think I should have any rum, father...I need to go on shift..."

"Nonsense, yer a bundle o´ nerves right now and ye need sleep. Now be a good boy and have a swig." 

Shrugging, Will took a pull, coughing a bit after he swallowed. "Have another one," Bootstrap commanded. 

Will nodded and had another sip. His tense body started to relax and he leaned back in his bunk. "But, Jack..."

"Shhh," Bootstrap interrupted. "Don´t let that bother yer head. Just get some rest."  Will´s eyes were gradually becoming heavy-lidded, and his head started to loll to the side. Bootstrap stroked Will´s hair, murmuring nonsense phrases -- something he had longed to do for years. 

Time passed, and Wills breathing slowed, indicating that he was fast asleep. Looking at his son with fondness, Bootstrap reluctantly stopped petting the silky curls. "Damn Jack´s eyes," he muttered before he settled down in a chair to keep watch. 

****

A small noise startled Bootstrap awake. He rubbed his eyes and grumbled. He must´ve fallen asleep again instead of staying awake all night like he was used to. He grimaced as he stretched his stiff back. Being alive again was going to take some getting used to. 

Will was standing by the dresser, and his lips curved in a wan smile as he buttoned his shirt. "I´m sorry to have disturbed your sleep." 

"´Salright. Come here and sit," Bootstrap said, sitting down on Will´s bunk and patting the spot beside him. 

Will complied, walking as if the deck was made of broken glass. Noticing his son´s measured steps, Bootstrap remarked, "I won´t bite, whelp. Jack´s the one earnin´ my ire right now." 

"He did?" 

Bootstrap said, "I thought he´d had changed whilst I was gone. He seemed ter be more caring of you in Cabezon."  Looking at Will with affection, Bootstrap reached over and smoothed down his son´s curls. "Figgers that he´d be back to thinkin´ with his shaft soon´s we´re out of danger." 

Will startled back from Bootstrap´s touch as if a bee had stung him. "What´s eatin´ ye now?"  the elder Turner growled. 

"Um, you, uh...never touched me before," Will stammered. 

Bootstrap´s expression softened. He said, "It´s because of the curse. I couldn´t feel ye, so I didn´t think there´d be much use in comforting ye, then." 

"Oh," Will said, shifting around and picking at invisible pieces of lint. 

"Do ye not want me to touch yer?"  Bootstrap replied, his voice tinged with concern. 

"Um, I don´t know what to think..." Will was quite confused. He still had trouble thinking of Bootstrap as anything other than Jack´s lover. 

Bootstrap looked at Will with sympathy. "It´s not like I blame ye. The last time I saw yer, ye were just a babe." 

"How old was I?" 

"Ye were just born," Bootstrap´s expression softened. "I remember fearing for the two of ye, ye were a breech birth, Will. Audrey was in labor for hours." 

"Audrey?" 

"Yer mother, boy." 

Will blushed. "Um, she never told me her real name. I only knew her as ´Mother.´"

"It figgers. I´m not a religious man, Will, but I came close to prayin´ that night... hoping for a miracle."  Bootstrap smiled. "And I found it." 

"What was it?" 

"You." 

Will gasped. "Excuse me?" 

Bootstrap´s said fondly, "I held ye in my arms when you drew yer first breath in this world...and all I could think about was how blessed I was t´ have created a new life..."

As Bootstrap spoke, Will was enraptured by the tenderness in his eyes. He started to feel the strangeness melting away. Hesitating, Will drew closer, draping his arms around Bootstrap´s shoulders. 

Bootstrap´s arms hung in an awkward fashion by his sides, as if he were afraid to move. 

Will said, "It´s all right, father."  He held his breath as Bootstrap´s arms rose up to hug him for the first time. Once he was clasped in the strong grip, a sense of comfort washed over him, and he snuggled closer, wanting more. 

"God...never thought I´d git to hold ye again," Bootstrap murmured, pressing his cheek against Will´s. 

Will sighed, feeling happy. "I´m sorry that I was so reluctant before."  A thought skittered through his head. "What do we do about Jack?" 

"I´m havin´ nothing to do with him until he pulls his head out of his arse. So, if ye don´t mind, I thought I´d stay here fer a bit." 

Will stammered. "O-of course, that´d be fine." 

"Thank ye, son."  Bootstrap stared at Will´s face, studying every curve and plane. "Ye look so much like me," he said, "but yer eyes...they have just a hint of yer mother in ´em." 

"Father..."  Will said, his voice wavering. "I...um, never mind."

"Spit it out," Bootstrap growled. 

"Why did you leave?" 

As the words left his lips, Will regretted voicing them. The pain in Bootstrap´s dark eyes sliced right through his gut. "I didn´t...Audrey disappeared with ye. She had found God after ye were born, and wanted me to reform. When I refused, she bundled ye up and fled in the night." 

"Oh." 

"Did she ever mention me?" 

"Mother told me that you were a merchant seaman. She didn´t really talk about you much. She didn´t talk about much of anything because she exhausted herself trying to keep the two of us fed and clothed."  The last of Will´s sentence dropped off into a whisper as he said it. He wasn´t sure if his mother´s deception would sit well with his father. 

To Will´s surprise, Bootstrap hugged him closer and replied, "I´m sorry that life was so hard for yer." 

Will sighed, his body tensing as he remembered his sordid past. He was grateful when he felt Bootstrap rubbing his back, soothing him. It made his story easier to tell. "Mother was very strict," he said, trying not to wince at the painful memories. "I had an early curfew because she didn´t want me associating with the ruffians in our neighborhood, and I didn´t really have any friends. She made sure to teach me about the Bible every night, and I´m sure that she wanted me to become a priest." 

"So why didn´t ye?" 

"I never quite agreed with mother´s point of view. She was always telling me that everyone would burn in hell for not following God and that just didn´t seem right."  Will paused before he spoke again. "We argued quite a bit, and I tried to run away a few times, but someone always returned me." 

"She must´ve tanned yer hide for that." 

Will grimaced. "She did. And our fights increased. I started defying her orders, staying out late on my own and avoiding her as much as possible. Then she fell ill when I was about eleven...she died shortly after that."  His voice trailed off and he looked haunted. "I can´t help thinking that if we had fought less, I would have noticed that she was not in the best of health," he said, his voice breaking. 

Bootstrap ran a hand over Will´s back and kissed the top of his head. "It´s not yer fault." 

"But, if I had been a better son..."

"It wouldn´t have mattered and ye might have fallen ill yerself," Bootstrap interrupted. "Tell me...what do ye remember about her sickness?" 

"Um, she was coughing a lot. Sometimes quite violently." 

"Was there blood?"  Will nodded in response. Bootstrap said, "That was consumption, lad. Weren´t nothing ye could do about it. ´Sides, the doctors in London wouldn´t bother with either of ye, anyway. They only serve the rich." 

Will sighed. "After Mother died, I wanted to find you, so I became a cabin boy on a ship bound for the Caribbean. She wouldn´t have been pleased -- I should have entered the service of the church, but..."

Bootstrap said, "Ye heard the call of the sea, didn´t ye?"  Will nodded and lowered his eyes, trying to avoid his father´s gaze. "Don´t feel guilty, boy," Bootstrap replied. "It´s in yer blood." 

"But I feel as if I´m betraying her memory." 

"It would´ve been more of a sin to concede to her wishes and hate every minute of it." 

Will fell silent, pondering over Bootstrap´s words. He nibbled his lip, turning over the alternate paths that his life could have taken. What if he had followed his mother´s wishes? Could he have been happy in the church? Trapped in a stuffy building with a heavily regimented life? As soon as he had asked himself these questions, he knew the answer. "You´re right...I would have loathed becoming a man of the cloth." 

Bootstrapped grinned. "Of course I´m right, I´m yer father, ain´t I?" 

Will chuckled for the first time, feeling his heart grow lighter. "Please," he said, putting his hands over Bootstrap´s. "Tell me about your adventures. I´ve been dying to hear them." 

"It´ll take a while." 

"But we have a long time. I doubt Jack will come to his senses before tomorrow," Will said, smiling. 

"Yer right. All right, pull up a chair, son, and let me tell ye about the salty bastard that manned the ship that I first served crew on..."

***

Jack frowned as he sailed on in the darkness. He had expected Bootstrap to come out, ask to be forgiven for the punch, and then swive him through the floorboards. It was well past midnight now, and there was no sign of an apologetic Bootstrap; nor had any swiving occurred, much to Jack´s dismay. 

A thought skittered in his head, one that proposed that maybe Jack should be the one to do the apologizing. Jack squashed the idea in a trice, and then decided that it was the heat getting to him. Satisfied, he envisioned dousing the mutinous proposal with rum, setting it afire, and kicking it overboard. 

There. That was much better. Much, much, much better. Now where was the rum? Not the imaginary rum he had used, but the real rum. After all, you can´t really drink imaginary rum...although if you couldn´t actually drink imaginary rum, could you use it to set things on fire? 

Too much thought. Best to use real rum to kill his very real brain and make it stop thinking so much. 

"Anamaria, take the wheel!"  he yelled. "I have a pressing engagement to attend to." 

"Aye, Captain!"  she replied. 

Grinning, Jack handed the wheel over and started sashaying towards his cabin. Yes, real rum was an excellent idea...

Elizabeth barred his way. "And what would be the nature of your pressing engagement? I doubt that Mr. Turner wants to speak with you." 

Jack killed the quick flare of irritation that shot through him. It wouldn´t do to drink while he was upset. "Stand aside, luv. Ish between me and the finest bottle of rum ever made." 

"No." 

Jack glared at her. Why were the only two women onboard the Pearl so stubborn? "And what c´n I possibly say t´ make y´ move?" 

"You´ll allow me to accompany you tonight," Elizabeth replied, her voice firm and resolute. "Anamaria asked me to keep an eye on you." 

Jack growled and wondered if there was an abandoned island nearby that he could deposit Elizabeth on. He stopped that thought as soon as it popped into his head, deciding that it wasn´t worth risking Anamaria´s fury. Oh...and Will´s also. Not that an angry Will wasn´t to be feared...however, Jack was sure that Will would merely give him a sound thrashing, whereas Anamaria... Jack shuddered, not wanting to complete the horrible thought, but he was sure that it consisted of something unpleasant involving fire ants and honey. 

There was no way out of this dilemma, then. "All right," he slurred, resigning himself to the inevitable. "On one condition. Ye drink along with me." 

"That will be no problem at all," Elizabeth replied, standing aside. 

Jack reeled into his cabin. The bottle of fine rum that he had received from Bootstrap was sitting on his desk, and had yet to be touched. Realizing that he hadn´t expected a guest tonight, he staggered about looking for something that Elizabeth could drink out of. "Damn, I thought I had a clean mug somewhere," he muttered. 

"Don´t bother with that," Elizabeth said, picking up the container. She cut the seal with one of her knives, uncorked it, and took a generous swig straight out of the bottle. Jack tried to avoid gaping in surprise, but her smug grin told him that he had failed. 

"Didn´ anyone tell ye that it´s mutiny t´ drink b´fore the Captain?"  Jack growled. 

Elizabeth wiped the back of her hand across her mouth before she handed him the rum. "Section 14 of the Pirate´s Code states that it is a Captain´s privilege to have first pick of any booty, including food and drink. However, I believe that you received that as a gift, and therefore, it doesn´t fall under that rule." 

Jack snarled, but he knew that she was right again. And he was thinking far too much. Tilting the bottle, he drained a copious amount. Jack smiled as he felt the familiar warmth snake its way through his system, freeing and loosening his thoughts...

Something leapt into his mind and he grinned. "Caught ye, luv. Section 34, subsection B of the Code says that if a Captain directly offers to share his drink with ye, ye must match his consumption. Failure to do so, and ye walk the plank." 

Elizabeth smirked and said, "Very well. I will do the best to fulfill my duty." 

***

Jack was sprawled on his bunk now, since it had become too hard to stay upright. He watched as Elizabeth slid out of the chair and collapsed on the floor, giggling. The bottle from Cabezon had long been emptied, as well as about half of Jack´s rum collection. 

"I love a woman who can hold her liquor," Jack said, speaking with care because he was having trouble making his tongue form words. "Espeshically with any rum that William likes." 

"And why is that?"  Elizabeth asked, snickering after every word. 

"Becaush anything he drinks would flatten a grown man after two shots." 

Elizabeth tried to stand up, but her legs wouldn´t hold her, and she fell flat on her arse. After she and Jack laughed aloud, Elizabeth crawled over to the bunk at a snail´s pace, stopping to guffaw whenever she collided with a piece of furniture. 

"Surely I proved my mettle on that island we were stranded on," she said, punctuating each word with a sharp prod to Jack´s shoulder. 

"Mmm...you were indeed good company, luv. Although I would have preferred the Turners to keep me company, no offense." 

Elizabeth laughed. "No, I don´t blame you, Jack. But I swear, I was livid after I found out that you had netted Will." 

Jack flashed a gold-toothed smug grin. "It´s no surprise to me. I have the su...supe...erm, better romancing skills." 

Elizabeth batted at his hair. "You do not! That´s a load of bollocks!" 

"So ye say," Jack slurred. He took another hearty swig from the bottle in his hand. Elizabeth reached over and grabbed it after he was done, tilting it so that the rum poured freely down her throat. 

"Easy there. Ye´ll pass out at this rate." 

She drank her fill and replied, "You said I have to keep up with you, so I´m keeping up with you, *Captain*." A belch punctuated the end of her sentence and she flopped down next to Jack on the bunk, sniggering. "So...can I ask you a question?" 

"Of course." 

She tittered. "It´s very private." 

"Try yer worst," Jack said, leering. 

"How on earth did you manage to bugger Will on the Interceptor?"  she said in a matter of fact voice. 

Her bluntness and the serious look on her face caused Jack to howl with mirth. Elizabeth pouted in response, but it just caused Jack to convulse and guffaw louder. 

Frustrated, Elizabeth hit him hard in the arm. "Ow!"  he said, sounding indignant. 

"You didn´t answer my question," she huffed. 

Jack frowned. "If ye must know, I used the oldest trick in the book. Spilled rum on him and cleaned it with my tongue. Then I convinced him to do much more afterward."  Thoughts of Will´s half-naked, bronzed body filled Jack´s head. Wonderful memories of lapping rum out of that sweet mouth flooded his mind´s eye. 

"Ah, I tell ye," Jack said, his voice taking on a dreamy, far away quality, "there´s nothing better than rum-flavored kisses. Especially with Will." 

Elizabeth shrieked in disbelief. "What? You mean he didn´t learn how to kiss from you?" 

"What are ye talking about?" 

"Will Turner used to be the most awful kisser in the British Empire," Elizabeth said, chuckling. 

Jack tried to focus on Elizabeth´s blurry face. "Are ye pulling my leg?" 

"No! I first tried to kiss him when I was twelve, and he was bloody miserable at it. In fact..." She stared at the ceiling, giggling at a private joke. 

"In fact, what?"  Jack said impatiently. 

Elizabeth smiled. "He wanted to run away from me. I finally cornered him and told him that I wasn´t going to let him leave until he gave me what I wanted."  She twirled her fingers in her hair, forgetting again that she was in the middle of a conversation. 

Jack ground his teeth. "Go on..."

Elizabeth hiccupped and looked around. One eye had trouble keeping up with the other, and she wound up staring at Jack cross-eyed. "Um...so he smashed his lips against mine at an awkward angle. I actually had quite a bit of trouble breathing, and tried to push back, but I suppose that he thought that I was enjoying it, because he just pressed harder." 

"Yer talkin´ out of yer arse." 

"I am not! I had to kick him in the shin to get him to stop. Poor Will blushed and told me to give him another chance. And when I said yes...Oh God..." she started snickering again, rolling back on forth on the mattress at her private joke. 

"What happened?"  Jack said, feeling irritated. 

"He..." she bit down a snuffle of laughter. "He put his mouth completely around and over mine. It was quite disgusting." 

Jack gaped. "He...what?" 

Elizabeth started chuckling again. "He got the lower half of my face wet when he did that. Oh, and he was so mortified afterward."  She held onto her sides, cackling with glee until tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Her merriment was infectious and Jack was soon joining her, howling aloud until it hurt to breathe. "My God...I can swear to ye, luv, he´s much improved. Although I have no idea how." 

"Maybe he practiced on the donkey," Elizabeth said with an impish twinkle in her eye. The two of them soon collapsed into loud chortles that echoed off the cabin walls. A brief thought fluttered through Jack´s mind, whispering to him that perhaps he should check his teeth for hay the next time he kissed Will. Grimacing, Jack walloped the renegade image until it quieted down. 

He turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. "I prefer t´think that it was my allure that made him a better kisser." 

Elizabeth snorted in a most unladylike manner. "Allure? What allure could an unshaven, frighteningly hairy pirate have?" 

The insult struck Jack to the core. He definitely needed to show Elizabeth what she had been missing. He kicked off his boots, stripped off his breeches, and stretched out, trying to give Elizabeth an excellent view of his groin. "*That´s* the allure, Miss Swann. No one can resist it," he said, gesturing with pride at his shaft. 

Puzzled, Elizabeth looked at him and quirked an eyebrow up. "Really? I afraid that your yardarm is a bit short." 

Jack glared at her with a murderous expression. She glared back, and they locked gazes, neither one of them wanting to give any quarter to the other. 

The impasse was finally broken when Jack sniggered. The two of them started laughing again, leaning against each other and chuckling. 

"You do have a good point, though...it is quite warm in here," Elizabeth said before she stripped off her shirt in a very casual manner. At least that was her intention at first. 

In reality, it took quite a long time to do so, because she kept falling over and laughing. Jack, however, knew better than to offer any assistance, even in his inebriated state. After much struggling, she removed the garment, and the camisole underneath followed, as did the cloth holding her bosom in place. 

She smiled and said, "Now your turn, Jack. Fair is fair." 

It sounded like a wonderful idea to Jack. He rolled around, and tried to pull his shirt off, but only managed to get it tangled around his face. It refused to budge, and his head was now spinning. Sitting up became a colossal effort. 

He collapsed back, mumbling, "In a second, luv."  A soft snore answered him, and his lips stretched into a wide grin. He was right, she *was* about to pass out earlier. The thought made him grin again -- he loved being right. 

However, at this point, he couldn´t get himself to rise up. In fact, up was definitely overrated. Down was much, much better... Jack was still trying to figure out which direction was best when blackness claimed him. 

***

Sunlight lanced through the windows of Jack´s cabin, waking him. Refusing to open his eyes just yet, Jack groaned and noticed his shirt was still wrapped around his head. He left it there for the moment, too much in pain to deal with it. 

His skull throbbed and every inch of him ached. Bootstrap´s rum choices were not to be trifled with, and he remembered that they had consumed much more than that. He felt Elizabeth´s warm body next to his, and from her breathing, he could tell that she was still deep in slumber. He, however, was having trouble breathing because his bloody shirt was still around his head. 

Struggling a bit, Jack managed to yank the garment back down. It was too bright in his cabin... however, a half-naked Elizabeth was indeed a sight for sore eyes. 

She was a fine woman, but it really wouldn´t have worked out between them. Not when he had two of the most beautiful men in the world as his lovers. 

More light flooded in and Jack forced himself to turn his head to glare at the unwanted nuisance. Blinking, he saw that his cabin door was open, and Will was standing in the doorway, gaping at them. 

Oh no. "Will..." Jack started to say. Will didn´t reply. He slammed the door to Jack´s quarters hard enough to make the walls shake and his footsteps pounded against the wood as he fled above deck. 

Jack moaned as pain sliced through his rum-soaked brain. The island that Barbossa had marooned him on was starting to look incredibly attractive right now. 

---
end part 2

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