I paced in Jack and I's cabin, as I had been the past few days. Jack had entered the prison a week ago, promising me he would be back within a few hours, and also leaving me in command. I had learned over my time sailing with him and the crew how to work a ship; and I was proud to say I was a little more than an expert.

I paused, then charged out the cabin and onto the deck. "Mr. Gibbs!" I called.

He came up to me, a little wary. I had been increasingly moody over Jack's absence. Jack was the only one, really, who I could relax around. "Aye, Adeena?"

I was about to tell him that I was going to go in after Jack, when I was interrupted by a loud gunshot.

Fearing the worst, of course, I rushed to the railing with the rest of the crew and stared over the side.

Out in the water, floating innocently, was a coffin, a smoking hole in the lid. I tensed, wondering about the living dead.

Suddenly, the rest of the cap to the coffin was ripped apart as a familiar ring-adorned hand punched through, and Jack Sparrow popped heroically out of the top.

I smiled, laughing in relief, and turned to the crew. "All hands, prepare to sail!" I called, and the crew rushed to obey. "Clean up the deck, Jack won't be happy if conditions have slacked in his absence!"

They hurried around and I turned toward the black water again, watching apprehensively as Jack brought a decaying foot out of the coffin and used it as a paddle to reach the ship. He looked worried, rummaging around the remains of the poor soul inside. He grinned and yanked out his hat, pulling over his bandana. I bounced a bit. I had missed him so much it hurt.

Finally, after a bit of monotonous paddling, Jack bumped into the Pearl and Gibbs gave him a hand up. Jack used the foot instead of his hand, and Gibbs heaved him over the railing with a small grunt.

"Not exactly according to plan?" Gibbs asked warily, glancing at the bones in his hand. He tossed the disembodied leg at Cotton, who caught it with a rather surprised expression, and Jack pushed past Gibbs, his eyes sweeping the deck.

"Complications issued," Jack said. "And consequently were overcome." He pushed past him dismissively.

"I assume you got what you went in for?" Gibbs asked. He was trying to get Jack to open up and spill about his adventure in the prison. Fat chance, I thought. Jack probably wouldn't even tell me.

His coat was draped over his shoulders by Anamaria, who I had christened Keeper of the Coat, and he walked forward, swaying. He stopped and looked around, his eyebrows raised. "Where's Adeena?" He asked.

I forced myself to not rush and tackle him, but instead pushed my way to the front and hugged him fiercely. "I'm here, Jack."

He gave me a brief squeeze and pulled away, so I could look at him. He was filthy, I would force him to wash later, and his eyes held a sort of haunted look that I wished would go away. He smiled kind of shyly at me, grabbed my hand, and then sauntered away, toward our cabin, pulling me along.

The crew all moved to stand in front of us. Jack watched them sort of impatiently; I could tell he wanted to be alone with me as soon as possible.

Gibbs stepped up behind him. "Captain," He began, sort of hesitantly, "The crew, meself, included, I think, were expecting something a bit more...shiny, after Isle de Muerta going all pear shaped, the treasure being reclaimed by the sea and all--"

"And the hurricane!" Marty added helpfully. I smiled fondly down at him, he barely came to my waist.

"And the Royal Navy chasing us all around the Atlantic!" An African American crew member, Leech, pointed out.

Jack looked a bit uncomfortable. He frowned. "You all are feeling, then, as if dear ole Jack isn't meeting your grand standards?"

"Walk the plank!" Cotton's parrot squawked.

Jack's eyes widened and he whipped out his pistol. He aimed at the bird. "What did the bird say?" He asked loudly. Cotton looked quite unhappy.

"Do not blame the bird," Leech protested. "He merely voices all our feelings."

Jack lowered his arm with the pistol, Cotton appearing a bit relieved, and swayed a bit. I could tell a very confusing and flamboyant speech was about to be beheld. "Shiny, you say?" Jack asked.

Gibbs nodded. "Aye, shiny."

"What did you go in for, anyway?" Marty asked, then reached for a worn and dirty parchment clutched in Jack's hand.

Jack jerked his hand away, and, as he did so, Jack the monkey swooped down from a hanging rope, screeching, and stole the paper from Jack's ring adorned fingers.

"Hey!" He exclaimed. I tried to stop him half-heartedly but Jack aimed and fired his gun anyway at the monkey.

"Ye know that won't do no good!" Gibbs said, as Jack sauntered forward to take back his parchment. Marty, who was faster than most of the crew combined, darted forward and snatched it off the ground before Jack could. He glanced down at it, then looked up confusedly.

"It's a key!" He said.

"No, much more better!" Jack chirped, then casually took the paper from Marty, shooting a glare at him. "It 'tis a drawing of a key!"

He held it up to us, so we could look at it. It was a hastily drawn, messy scribble of a key.

My temper flared, and I swore. "Jack, you were in there for three damn weeks, I was worried like mad, and you trapeze out with a drawing of a key?" He glanced nervously at me.

"Gentlemen," Jack asked dubiously, "What do keys do?"

Leech had a go. "Keys...unlock...t'ings?"

Gibbs looked excited. "Keys usually go to treasure chests. So we're going to find whatever this key goes to!"

Jack shook his head. "No. If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever we don't have that it unlocks. So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?" He shrugged, as if what he had just said wasn't complete nonsense.

Gibbs frowned, attempting to comprehend, and then grinned. "So, we're going after this key!"

Jack leaned forward. "You're not making any sense at all, mate."

I rolled my eyes and pushed past everyone. "Whatever, Jack. You are so stupid! I'll be in my cabin."

"Your cabin?" Jack asked, but was interrupted by another insistent question from his crew.

I pulled the doors open and slammed them behind me, walking to the desk. I rummaged around in his charts, looking for something; anything so that the crew wouldn't go and mutiny. Jack had already lost the Pearl once. I won't let him lose it again.

Jack burst in, then rushed to me, pocketing his compass and flailing his arms. The door swung shut rather loudly.

"What're you doing?" He asked frantically, stealing the papers from me and shuffling them before dropping them in an untidy pile on his desk.

I folded my arms. "I was trying to find something that would prevent us another mutiny!"

He stopped, considering what I had said, then abruptly pulled me into his arms. "I missed you," He murmured.

I was surprised but relieved I wasn't going to be keel hauled for messing with his stuff. "And I you," I said, wrapping my arms around him. I sniffed. "You smell terrible."

He stiffened and pulled away. "It wasn't a tropical getaway in there, love."

"We are in the Caribbean, Jack."

"Well, yes," He narrowed his eyes. "But if you think I was in there so long because I was having fun, you are indefinitely wrong."

He walked to the pegs I had hammered into the wall to hang out stuff on and deposited his coat and hat. "I didn't mean it like that, Jack."

He whirled around. "They caught me sneaking around and locked me up, Adeena. I watched people die in there. Not from a sword, stabbed in the heat of battle. From hunger and torment and suicide. It was not fun at all."

He walked out on deck and I followed, feeling horrible. "Jack, I almost went in to get you!"

He shook his head. "That would have been incredibly stupid and rash."

I rolled my eyes and followed him into the cargo hold. "I am stupid and rash, Jack."

He nodded. "There is that."

He stopped in front of a barrel of fresh water and pulled a bucket out of somewhere. He filled it and I watched silently.

"What's the key for?" I asked. "It must be important."

He shook his head. "Ask no questions, receive no answers, darling."

I stamped my foot impatiently as he walked around me again with his bucket. I could tell he didn't want to talk about it, so I wasn't going to press. What I would do, though, was pester him until he forgave me.

"Jack, what is wrong?" I asked irritably.

We walked back into our cabin, ignoring the crew's amused stares, they loved watching our banter, and Jack set the pail on the dresser. "Nothing's wrong, love."

"Liar." I grabbed a rag off his desk and tossed it to him, he used it to wash his face. When he finished the rag was black. "That is disgusting and you are a liar."

"Yes, I know," He murmured absently, finishing.

I held out my hands for his shirt. "I'll wash them tomorrow, ok?"

He nodded obediently and pulled off his waistcoat and shirt, then tossed me his coat. I walked outside to deposit them in a small pile I conserved for laundry, there was a shirt of mine waiting there, and walked back in. Jack tossed me his breeches, he had put on new ones, and I threw those outside as well. Then I shut the door.

"There!" He swayed at me, just in his britches. "How do I look?" He grinned flamboyantly. My heart fluttered.

"Very...handsome." I said honestly.

He grinned. "Of course I am."

I smiled at him and walked forward; he caught me and spun me around, pressing me against his chest again.

"How much did you miss me?" He asked playfully.

I shook my head, looking into his deep brown eyes. "I missed everything about you. Your weird hair, your funny speeches, your kisses..."

He smiled and pressed his lips hungrily to mine. I tangled my hands in his hair as the kiss gradually deepened, and he picked me up and carried me to the bed.

"I missed you too," He said, straddling my hips and clumsily undoing the buttons on my shirt. I smiled and helped him.

"How much?" I grinned and he kissed me again, hot shivers igniting my insides.

"Very, very much..." He said. He slipped his hands under my shirt and I moaned.

"Captain!" There was some insistent knocking.

Jack growled, his mouth against my neck, and sat up. The voice sounded again and he slipped out of the bed, grabbing a clean (I assume) shirt from the floor and yanking it on before answering the door. I hurriedly darted under the covers and peeked above the sheets. It was Gibbs at the door.

"Heading, Captain?" He asked warily.

Jack made a sort of oh, yeah, noise and whipped out his compass. "Set sail in a...er,"

He spun around and looked at me, then his compass. He bushed and turned. "I'll have that in a minute, point another direction," He muttered to it. I flushed and felt a warm stirring in my gut. "Aha!" Jack exclaimed. "Go in a...that way, direction." He pointed off to starboard.

Gibbs's brow furrowed. "Could you be more specific, Cap'n?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope," And he shut the door. I laughed.

He tossed the compass aside and sauntered back to the bed, crawling in next to me. "Blasted compass," He complained, though it was muffled, his mouth was back on mine, "I always want you."

I smiled. "I'm glad."

We didn't go all the way, I had never let him, but I swore I had never been happier, laying in bed with the one man who I loved.