Title: The Captain's Love Story
Author: Dazed (zfighters10@hotmail.com)
Pairing: Jack Sparrow/Will Turner
Rating: PG
Summary: Will and Jack reunite after three years of separation. (Includes a bit of LoTR humor)
Disclaimer: The guys aren’t mine, though that would be wonderful wouldn’t it. They belong to their respective owners (still wishing it was me). But this fic is MINE

Jack stood atop a mast of a large, beautifully crafted ship, green in color with gray square sails. He smiled as he looked out to the east; a new day was dawning. He shielded his eyes with his hand, watched the waves that brushed up against the ship. They were sailing west, though to where he could not say. At the moment it was not under his jurisdiction.

Below him he could hear the crew coming above deck to relieve those who had the night watch, sulking about doing their work. It was nearly enough for him to feel sorry for them. He took hold of a rope and ran his fingers down as far as he could. He had been standing there since before the sunrise, yet no one noticed.

A cry went up form below as the sails were pulled open, billowing outward in the wind. He had been there long enough, he decided, and drew a knife from his belt, clenched it between his teeth. Grabbing the rope with both hands, he swung down, his hardened hands not feeling the heat of the friction. The crew below pointed up at him.

When he was close enough he let go, fell to his hands and knees. Jack stood, brandishing his knife, and grinned.

“I’ll be commandeering this boat now. Savvy?” he said as he drew his sword, a cocky smile set on his lips. The crew did not seem impressed.

In an instant Jack was slashing at them; in another the crew had drawn their own swords and were parrying blows. Shrieks of metal on metal rang throughout the ship. Drowsy crew men, who had been shaken from sleep, rushed up form below. Many of the crew men were now injured. Jack thought himself the victor.

But the crew doubled their defense and managed to rid Jack of his knife. Jack searched the boards with his eyes in attempt to find the knife he had lost, but it had been kicked too far away from his reach. Suddenly he had two dozen swords and knives pointing at him. His mind raced through his options. The crew stepped closer; his options grew thin.

The wind picked up and he noticed something he had not seen before. Above him on a rope a cliché unfurled: a black flag with skull and crossed bones. He was among pirates! What a mess. A solution clicked.

“Parley!” he shouted and placed his sword on the deck. He smiled at himself for such quick thinking.

For a few moments there was no movement among the crew men. Jack began to perspire. Something quite different should have been happening.

“Parley,” he repeated, nearly worried this time. His fears evaporated when a new figure rose from below.

“Captain, he called parley,” a crew man said as the man grew near.

“He did, said the captain to himself. Jack strained to see the men, but three rows of bodies blocked his view of him.

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” the ship’s captain said.

“So you’ve heard of me,” said Jack with a smile and a wave of the hand.

“I’ve sailed with you,” said the other as the figure, Will Turner, came into view. Jack was a little surprised.

“So you have, Captain Will Turner,” he said with a goofy salute.

Will motioned for the crew to return to work. Now alone, he wrapped Jack in a friendly embrace. Jack, unsure of how to react, patted Will on the back then ruffled his hair with a grin.

“The boy’s a captain,” said he as he brushed the chestnut curls from Will’s eyes, surprising himself and the younger man. “You look well.”

“And you look the same,” replied Will. He had often thought of all the things he would say to Jack if he saw him; those things were lost to him now. Three long years, he could hardly believe it. Then he became aware of Jack staring at his hand, or rather a ring.

“So you,” Jack began but did not finish.

“No,” Will was quick to reply. Why did Jack seem so upset? Why did it feel as if the ring had grown heavier? “Let’s talk below.”

A moment later they were sitting in Will’s cabin, Jack looking through papers at Will’s desk and Will sitting on the bed fidgeting and twisting the ring on his finger. He proceeded to tell Jack of a promise he had made to Elizabeth, to return and marry her. He felt in pieces talking about it to a Jack that seemed so rigid and inattentive.

“Jack,” he said after an uncomfortable silence. Jack sifted through a stack of papers, not listening perhaps. “I don’t want to go back.”

Another paper skimmed and turned over. Will almost said the pirate’s name again.

“Go,” said Jack finally. “Go to your bonnie lass, precious strumpet.”

The words had bite to them. Another twist of the ring; it was almost off.

“Jack, I’m not going back.” No answer. “Jack, what’s wrong?”

Jack slammed down the papers. “I’m looking for a boat.” Then nothing.

It took a while for the piece of information to click.

“The Pearl,” Will sighed and rubbed his forehead. “They left you.”

Nothing from Jack. He apparently did not want to talk about it. Will sat musing ideas.

“Come with me,” he said at last. “I won’t make you work with the crew. Come with me.”

A smile spread across Jack’s face. “Of course I will. Curse this bleeding heart.”

The days after were full of excitement. The ring had been discarded and Will vowed never to return to Elizabeth. The first thing he saw in the morning was a smiling Jack throwing him out of bed, and the last thing he saw at night was a thoughtful Jack musing about the moon.

On one such night, after drink had flowed freely, Jack sat cradling Will in his arms. Will was nodding, extremely drunk.

“Jack,” he said. “Whyzit you don’t like ‘Lizbeth?”

Jack was silent. Will continued.

“I don’t like her,” he said.

“You should,” replied Jack, sullen. “You rescued her.”

Will thought for a moment. His mind could not focus well.

“No,” he said finally. “I think I like you.”

“You’re drunk, boy,” said Jack as he set Will upright.

“No, I mean it!”

Silence. Will looked up at Jack, who was staring back at him. Will smiled; Jack did not respond. Will was crestfallen.

Then Jack put his hand to Will’s cheek and pulled him into a kiss. Will, his mind swimming in a sea of rum, surprised by the sudden interest, had tears in the corners of his eyes. Jack let him go, looked back at the moon.

“This is a fine mess you’ve got me in,” he said as he pulled Will closer, resting his chin on the boy’s head. “A fine mess.”