The Seal of Cleito

(A/N- So there ye have it! THIS IS A SEQUEL!! It shall star all our beloved characters from the Hell Water, plus some new ones! And of course, ye can be sure that I'll keep Jack as in character as I possibly can! I hope that this fic meets with approval from my readers; I do greatly value your feedback.  It keeps me writing!! So please leave me your comments at the end of the chapter.

I'm rating this fic 'R' for adult content (ie: Implied SEX and gratuitous foreplay) but it's not as explicit as a full-blown lemon or anything NC-17. Well… not on ff.net in any case!  This rating, however… applies only on rare occasions, 'The Seal of Cleito' is not going to be just about the romance… I should think you know me better than that, right? ^_~

Once again, I'd like to reiterate that this fic is a SEQUEL to 'The Secret of Hell Water'.  So- if you haven't read Hell Water yet, I suggest ye read it BEFORE you read this story... If you don't, then you won't know my original character, and I'm not going to bother taking the pains to RE-introduce her in this fic. I'm writing this as a sequel with the notion that my readers are already familiar with my writing style, my original character, her personality, and her relationship to Jack Sparrow.) To find my first fic,' The Secret of Hell Water', you can go to my bio page for a link.

*Disclaimer* I do not own The Pirates of the Caribbean canon characters, title, or any of that other stuff. I'm not making any money; I'm just writing fan fiction for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of its fans. I do however... own my original characters.

Sorry for the long-winded authors note- okay, on with the story!

Chapter 1- The Old Acquaintance

It was an especially warm and muggy day in the port of Tortuga.  The summer season was blasting its final farewell heat before it would give way to the refreshing coolness of fall.  Many buccaneers and residents of the small French colony were anxious for the overbearing humidity to abate.  They went about their daily tasks with sweat running down from unwashed faces and shirts sticking unceremoniously to their backs.  It was days like this when shade was a welcoming relief.  And so those fortunate men and woman that were not required to be toiling in the mid-day sun could be found refreshing themselves over a drink or two at one of the many bars and taverns that dotted the main streets about the harbor.

            As luck would have it, on this very day, Jack Sparrow found himself in such a situation.  He dozed contentedly in a quiet corner of the Faithful Bride (for the notorious tavern was only to be found quiet in the hours of daylight), with both booted feet planted firmly on top of the table.  He leaned back precariously in a small wooden chair, so that two of it's front legs were a good six inches off of the ground.  His hat was cocked smartly down on his head, shielding his eyes from view. His hands rested gently on top of his stomach with interlocking fingers that sported many jeweled rings of both silver and several shades of gold.  A half full tankard of rum sat forgotten beside his left foot at the edge of the table.   A low snore drifted out from under the tri-cornered hat, which made one of the barmaids glance up at him curiously.

            A few seconds passed, and then the quiet stillness of the room was shattered as the front door creaked open abruptly, and Emma marched into the room.  The dark look that was on her face as she directed her gaze over to Jack's corner made both barmaids scamper quickly into the back room with muttered excuses about dishes that needed to be washed.

  The petite, golden haired woman strode confidently across the floor, easily side-stepping around scattered chairs and tables to Jack's corner.  She stood at the foot of the table with both hands planted firmly on her hips. 

She wore a snug fitting red bodice with a hint of gold scrollwork along the neckline.  Her off-white chemise had billowing sleeves that extended just past her elbow, and her large, full skirts were of a fine, unadorned black with a few slashes of gold circling just above the hem.  One side was pinned up in its usual manner, displaying a travel-stained, cream-colored petticoat. Her hair was wound atop her head in several coiled braids, with the exception of several loose, silky tendrils that fell down to frame her face and accentuate the curve of her neck.

" Jack Sparrow?" She said this loudly enough so that her voice carried easily throughout the length of the room.

Jack was so startled out of his quiet slumber that he jerked upright with an oath, yanking a pistol out of his belt in reflex.  But the sudden movement made the chair he'd been so precariously balanced on topple backwards.  His feet, which had been on the table moments before flew up in the air as he fell and the half-full tankard of rum received an accidental kick and sailed through the air towards Emma, splashing her full in the face.

Emma blinked back stunned by the sudden assault.  She brought her hands up to wipe away the rum that was running down her face and glanced down at Jack peevishly.  Jack lay on his back on the ground.  He pushed his hat up over his eyes with one finger and glanced at her with a slightly annoyed expression.  The years that had passed since their adventure at Hell Water had not affected his appearance greatly.  His hair was still as dark and disheveled as it always was, with the exception of another strand of beads added and a few more coins decorating the ends of his long dreadlocks.  He had another gold tooth in his mouth, which gave a dull shimmer as he regarded Emma with a tiny hint of a smirk.  The few exceptions to his otherwise timeless appearance were some tiny crow's feet that appeared at the outer corners of his coal-lined eyes when he smiled, and a strand or two of silver that ran through his hair.  He also had a brand new, thin scar that ran diagonally from his hairline to the ridge of his cheekbone on the right side of his face.

" You wanted something, love?" He said as casually as he could in such an awkward position.

Emma peered down at him peevishly.  " Yes…I've come to warn you…"

" Oh? About what?"

" Elizabeth…" Emma said hotly, remembering her previous hurry.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her and propped himself up on his elbows. " And why would ye need to warn me about her, love?"

" She's coming this way." Emma said through clenched teeth. " And if she sees you, she may just bite your head off."

Jack had the grace to look unabashed at this comment.  He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then an idea seemed to dawn on him, and he shot Emma a dubious look.  " …Don't tell me… she didn't…?"
            "Yes… she did…" Emma confirmed with a brisk nod.

" Ahh…" Jack winced visibly. " That would be the… what?"

" The fifth time…" Emma answered his unspoken question imperiously.

Jack's face fell.  Then, suddenly another bang echoed through the room as the door of the Faithful bride swung open in a wide arc.  Jack and Emma both swiveled their heads with a sudden growing sense of foreboding as the daunting figure of Elizabeth stormed in clutching the shirts of two struggling children in each hand. On her left side was a boy of about 9 years with short messy light brown hair.  His face and body were so dirty it looked as though he'd recently been rolling around in the mud and there was a large red bruise on the edge of his cheekbone that was growing darker by the minute.  Likewise was the other child on Elizabeth's right, who was equally as filthy.  She was a girl, slightly shorter and younger than the boy by only a year with shoulder length, wavy dark brown hair that had at one point been pulled back in a ponytail.  However, several clumps had been pulled loose and fell in disarray around her round, suntanned face.  She stopped her struggles at the sight of Jack and Emma looking down at her and her unnaturally dark blue eyes grew very large.

" Captain Jack Sparrow!" Elizabeth's voice rang out with suppressed rage as she caught site of Jack and Emma and strode across the room to meet them with the children reluctantly in tow. Jack was in the process of getting up off the ground and paused with a tiny wince as he heard his name being called.  He heard her stop a few feet away, then swiveled around to greet the enraged female pirate with a face of unmistakable good-natured curiosity.

" That would be me, love." Jack said languidly with a flick of his wrist.  " What can I do for ye?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips, her anger thrown off by his cool demeanor.  Then she took a deep breath and said with an impatient nod towards the girl in her right hand.  " Your daughter has been fighting again with my son!"

" Have not!" said the girl defiantly as Elizabeth released her; she looked up at Jack Sparrow with unmistakable innocence.  " Honestly da… I didn't!"

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. It was plain as night and day that she was lying through her teeth. At his look, the little girl pursed her lips and revised her story.  "Jamie pulled my hair first!"

" Did not…" Came the muffled reply from the boy.

" Did too!"

" Enough!" Cried Elizabeth, and they both fell silent.  She redirected her gaze to Jack, fixing him with her best hard-eyed stare.  "Well?"

Jack gave the barest nod of his head towards the girl and Emma held out her hand.  The girl hesitated and glanced back at Elizabeth, who hadn't faltered her glowering gaze.  She walked across the room to take Emma's outstretched hand and Emma instantly bent down and began to fuss with her dress, smoothing the wrinkles and rubbing the dirt from her face with a handkerchief.

" Haven't I told you not to fight?" Emma said earnestly.  " You know better than that, Claire!"

Jack bent down to examine his daughter, there was a knowing smirk on his face as she turned to regard him a little nervously.  " What did I tell ye, poppet?" He asked.

" Not to hit unless he right deserves it." She replied.

" Tha's my girl… now, did he deserve it?"

" Yes, he pulled my hair!"

" Well, there ye have it!" Jack said standing up and turned to regard Elizabeth smoothly with a large grin on his face.  " It's yer son who should be apologizing to my daughter."

Elizabeth looked ready to explode. " WHO do you think YOU are to just DECLARE that your daughter was completely not at fault in this situation!!!??"

" Why, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love! Did ye really have to ask?" Jack said charismatically.  " And, the way I see it… it's a matter of cause and effect." He swayed back and forth like a cobra, demanding everyone's full attention as he talked with exaggerated hand gestures.  " Ye see… If yer son had not pulled my daughters hair, causing her, in what could be construed as self-defense to use her ample right hook… which… If I may be so bold as to interject that I taught her to use quite well…" Jack said off-handedly to Emma, who was looking at him incredulously.  " Then… yer son would not have at this moment a rather manly looking bruise sporting his left cheek...." The boy's face broke into a grin as Jack shot him an encouraging look.  " …I would not be standing here in defense of her good judgment in such a situation, you would not be wasting yer breath away screaming at me, M'dear Emma would not be covered from head to toe in rum, both the kids would not be in need of a good bath…The barmaids in the back room would not have a lovely piece of gossip to spread through the entire port the minute we walk out that door…"

As Jack rattled on and on, one fact after another, the look on Elizabeth's face grew less angry and more confused, until she wasn't quite sure what point Jack was trying to make and had quite forgotten the origin of the argument.  During this tirade, Claire glanced over at James from behind her mother's skirts, their eyes met and she stuck her tongue at him as he simultaneously crossed his eyes at her.  They both broke into identical dirt-faced grins.

" …And so, I think I've made it quite clear to ye, love… that the stem of the argument is not with me, but with yer lad there… who needs to learn to keep his hands to himself.  It's either he learn it now, or the hard way in a few more years, savvy?"

Elizabeth continued to stare at him with her mouth hanging open.  Then, as silence descended upon the group, she seemed to come back to herself and blinked twice in quick succession.  With a click of her teeth, she snapped her mouth closed and nodded dumbly, then muttered under her breath, " I s-suppose…"  She glanced down at her son who was still busy making faces at Claire.  "Well, Jamie?"

He'd been caught in the middle of trying to imitate a chipmunk, and opened his mouth with a loud pop.  He looked affronted up at his mother, shocked at the indignation of having to apologize when just moment's ago he'd been sure that Claire was the one who was going to get it.  But at Elizabeth's towering look, he grudgingly took a step forward, put his hands behind his back, and muttered his apology.  " Sorry I pulled yer hair…"

Claire dove out from behind Emma and was in front of him in a flash.  " S'okay…Hey, do ye wanna play?"

" Yeah!" Jamie's head shot up and then he quickly glanced to his mum for confirmation.  Elizabeth let out a great sigh and folded her arms, looking down at him crossly.

" No more fighting?" She said ominously.

" I swear!" They both said in unison.

" Okay then, but back before nightfall."

Claire turned to Jack and Emma, Jack was down on his knee again, and he beckoned her over to him.  As she neared him, he put his hand on her shoulder and said under his breath.

" I'm not going to talk ye out of trouble again, poppet. So I suggest ye find some less violent way to settle your arguments with young James, or next time you'll be looking at a sound smack on the bum, savvy?"

She nodded in understanding, and they both broke into identical mischievous grins.  Then, Jack turned her around and set her off with a little push.

The three adults watched the kids run out of the door, no doubt to get into more mischief on the streets of Tortuga.  They were as wiley and cunning as those children that had lived on the streets their entire lives, and made the rough town their playground.  The main difference between them and the other street rats that infested the town was that both their fathers were well-respected and simultaneously feared pirates.  Therefore, it was a given that the kids went about the port completely unmolested.  Its residents did not wish to incite the wrath of Captain Jack Sparrow or Will Turner.

  Jack Sparrow had made his fame even more wide spread after the astounding news that he'd come back from Hell Water heavily laden with its treasures. And in its aftermath, he had spent the past eight years building even more upon his already successful reputation as the most dauntless, disreputable, crazy and simultaneously brilliant scalawag to ever have sailed the seven seas.   He was a regular topic of conversation in the courts of England, France, and Spain. Will Turner was a newer name to the register, but it was a name that carried a good amount of weight, as it was usually used simultaneously with Jack's in recent years.  Will was well known, both among the buccaneers and the law-abiding classes, as Jack Sparrow's second-hand in crime.

" Care to have a drink with us, darling?" Jack asked Elizabeth, who continued to stare out of the door at the retreating figures of Jamie and Claire.  " It's a mighty hot day to be running around as ye have. Why not sit yerself down?"

" No… no thank you." She said haltingly, and then turned quickly to regard them both. The motion made the braids and trinkets in her hair jingle and sway about her lightly tanned face.  " Will should be coming back today, I wanted to greet him at the port when he arrived."

" Ah… good lass.  Well, I won't hold you up here then." Jack bent down and righted his chair, then planted himself back in it.  Emma watched him with a bemused expression on her face.

" Yes, I'll see you later then." Elizabeth said smoothly, and then turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Jack let out a long breath as they watched the door close behind her and the room once again fell into silence.

" You amaze me." Emma said incredulously as she turned to face him with sparkling eyes.

" How's that, love?"

" You know perfectly well Claire was at fault in that situation."
            " Aye, she takes after 'er old dad." Jack grinned.

" Too well!  You're teaching her how to be dishonest." Emma scolded.

Jack frowned contemplatively and then shrugged.  " …Yes… and yer point is?"

" It's dishonest!"

Jack raised one eyebrow at her and then cracked a smile.  " Just, who do ye think yer talking to here, love?"

Emma rolled her eyes and sighed audibly.  " Ohh—why do I even bother with you sometimes?"

Jack extended a hand and pulled Emma down onto his lap, then, with both arms wrapped around her waist, he set his chin on her shoulder.  He breathed the words into her ear like a silky caress. " I'll give ye three guesses why…"

            She was sufficiently distracted as he took an audible sniff and then ran the tip of his tongue up along the side of her face.  " You taste divine, love."

            " I taste like rum, you mean." She corrected, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice.

            " I should dump it on you more often, then."

            " I should think that would be a waist of rum!" She interjected; fully conscious of his hands that were feeling they're way up the exterior of her bodice.

            " Who's said anything about wasting it?" His voice was undeniably mischievous and it made her laugh out loud.

            " Jack, when are we going to set sail again?" She asked him after a moments pause as he started playing with her front laces.  " We've been in Tortuga for nearly three weeks!"

            " Restless for the feel of the sea under yer feet, are ye?"

She nodded and Jack paused, he stilled his searching hands around her waist.  "Just as soon as Will gets back with my business ventures in hand."  He replied.  " We can be off."

" I'll be relieved when that happens.  Jamie and Claire seem to be getting into more trouble with each passing day…" Emma confided in him wearily.  "It will be good for them to be back on the ship."

Jack didn't answer her, but nodded behind her back to himself.  Emma leaned against him, thinking of the trials of the recent weeks.  It was true that Jamie and Claire had gotten themselves in several tight spots, all of which Jack had skillfully managed to bail them out of with his unfailing charisma.  He was quite an unconventional father figure, and not what any law-abiding citizen would consider a good-example for a roll model on an impressionable child of both Claire and Jamie's age.  He taught them through experience the skills needed to survive among the hardened buccaneers.  This of course, included lying, cheating, stealing, and all manner of other tell-tale misdealings that were a staple of survival to the world of the pirate.  Jack was still firm in certain areas of discipline with his daughter. He instilled in her his own standards of high self-respect and loyalty to parents, trusted friends, and crewmembers.  There was nothing he detested more than mutiny, betrayal, or disloyalty.  And he considered all other character flaws (such as a tendency to hit when provoked) of little consequence in light of those much graver crimes, all of which he had suffered from at one or more points in his life.

Unfortunately, Elizabeth and Will were both of quite a different frame of mind.  And because from the moment they were born, the two children had proven to be nearly inseparable, the two couples had been forced to come up with a compromise to their different ideas of parenting, so that all could live in harmony cooped up for long voyages on The Black Pearl.   This compromise being, that Elizabeth taught the children to read and write, for she was determined that they would not grow up in ignorance… while Jack taught them the skills mentioned above for their own survival.  Emma and Will were happy to oblige the compromise, and tried to mediate as much as possible, especially when Elizabeth clashed with Jack…

Jack Sparrow of course, won every argument simply by being Jack Sparrow.

Emma's thoughts came back to the present quickly when she found herself being swept up in Jack's arms as he stood from his seat and carried her across the threshold to the stairs and the gallery of rooms above.

" Hey! What are you up to now?" She squirmed in his grip and shot him an indignant look.

" Well love, I thought I'd have me way with you while you seemed so keen on staring off into space."

She gave him a derisive laugh.  " Someday, I would love to see you not get your way for once."

" Ahh?" Jack shot her a sly grin.  " But then that would constitute a lose/lose situation, wouldn't it? What's the point in that?"

Emma blinked at him, then caught his meaning and aimed a playful slap, which he deflected easily with his shoulder.  " You scoundrel! That's not what I meant!"

Jack's eyes twinkled with mischief as he rounded the last step and strode confidently into the closest room on the gallery landing, pulling the door closed behind him with a flick of his toe.

~*~*~*~*~

            " My da is coming back today!" Jamie declared excitedly as he and Claire dashed off towards their favorite haunt, which happened to be directly underneath the docks.  Several suntanned faces turned to regard the children as they sidled past the workers who were busy loading and unloading ships. One large galleon had just anchored, and people were filing out of it.  The heavy thumping of boots above their heads were loud and resounding on the creaking wooden planks. 

 " He said he'd bring me back something from Port Royal." He added loudly, so as to be heard above the din.

            Claire bent down and picked up a short sturdy stick and began waving it around like a sword.  " I wonder when we're going to be old enough to start learning swords." She changed the subject, not caring for the reminder that Jamie had a present coming to him and she did not.

            " Mum says not until I'm ten." Jamie said indignantly, fetching his own stick and slinging it through his belt.

            " Ready yerself ye scurvy scalawag!" cried Claire as she charged him, waving her stick in the air.  Jamie stepped back as she made an exaggerated swing at him, then brandished his weapon and slapped her stick smartly away.

" You'll never take me alive!" Jamie cried shrilly, instantly falling into the play-acting.

" That's what you think, Norrington!"

Jamie stopped his advance with an indignant cry. "Why do I always have to be the bad guy? I wanna be Jack Sparrow for once!"

" Cause Jack Sparrow's my da, savvy?"

" That's not fair!"

" It's not? I could beat you with one hand behind my back!"

Jamie had tossed his stick into the water and was about to spring on her with a vengeance when suddenly, between the two of them something shiny and white fell threw the cracks on the dock above them and landed with a gentle thud on the sand.  They both instantly forgot their argument and fell upon it.

" What is it?" Claire craned her neck to see as Jamie had gotten to it first and was gazing at it like a precious piece of lost treasure.  It was a round flat disc, about 3 inches in diameter and shone with a white, metallic brilliance as he turned it around in his small hands.  Occasionally, it would catch a ray of the sunlight streaming through from the docks above and shimmer with dancing colors of yellow and pink across the smooth surface.

" It's treasure!" Declared Jamie triumphantly.  " Look, there's some marks on it."

" Let me see!"

" No, I found it." The boy held it protectively against his chest.  " It's mine."

" I saw it before you did." Claire protested.  " I'll give it back, just let me see it."

Reluctantly, Jamie held out his hands with the offered object, and Claire took it from him, eyeing the strange disc with interest.

" Do you see the marks on the edge?" Jamie said.  " I bet it's special! I can't wait to show mum!"

Her unnaturally dark eyes scanned along the ridge of the disc and she furrowed her brows.  " They're not marks, they're words."

" Words? Really?" He looked at the object with even more interest.  " What does it say?"

" I don't know. I can't read them." Claire replied. Her lips were set in a contemplative frown, and then she reluctantly handed the treasure back to James, who took it and pocketed it with great care.

Suddenly, a gruff voice came close up from behind them.  " What are you kids doing down here?"

They both spun on their heels to regard the strange figure with surprise.  He was not a face they recognized.  In their minds, that fact made him immediately suspicious, and thus to be avoided.  Jamie and Claire backed up a few hurried steps and regarded him from what they deemed to be a safe distance.

The man scanned the disturbed sand from where they'd been moments before, as if looking for something.  And then, with obvious disappointment on his long, gaunt face turned his gaze back up to them and beckoned with a thin, bony hand.

" No need to fear now… I won't hurt ye… but did ye happen ter see something fall through the roof just minutes ago? It's white, and round?"

Jamie glanced at Claire with a readable expression of nervousness. But the girl just shook her head with a very innocent expression.

" No, we 'aven't seen nothing like that, sir." She lied very convincingly.

The man paused as he glanced from one face to the other.  He was quite tall, and very gaunt, with a face that at one point could have been considered quite handsome.  It was hard to tell, but he looked as though he might be in his late forties.  The rags that he wore hung off of his skeletal frame like clothes off a hanger. They were dirty and tattered, and roughly patched in several places.  His long, dark brown hair was streaked with silver.  It hung loose about his face in greasy waves.  His skin was finely baked from long exposure to the sun, and his feet were encased in tattered boots with fraying laces. He looked like a beggar, but he carried himself in a very different fashion.  He stood straight and tall but swayed slightly as if he was still accustomed to being on a boat. His eyes were an intense brown as he took turns glancing from one dirty face to another.  But his eyes kept on straying back to the boy and he pursed his lips.  Then, he finally shrugged and dug into the patched pocket of his coat and flipped out a shilling.  He tossed it to them. Jamie still hand his hands firmly in his pockets, thus, Claire caught the coin and examined it scrupulously.

" I'll be having it back now." He said to Jamie with an ominous tone of voice that sounded a great deal to him like his father's when he was about to be very cross. Jamie reluctantly took the white disc they'd just found out of his pocket and held it out to the man, who closed the distance between the two of them with surprising speed for his thin frame, and snatched it out of his hands.  It disappeared into one of the folds of his coat in a matter of seconds. The man straightened again and looked down at the two urchins with the full advantage of his height.  And then a well-lined grin swept across his face, displaying a few golden teeth.  " There now! I thank ye… mister?"

" …Jamie." The boy said after a short pause. " …Turner…"

The man faltered for a moment on the name.  His mouth tightened, but he forced his smile to stay on, and then nodded his head to the girl.

" Smith…" She said shortly, and then gave him a gape-toothed smile.

" Well then… Jamie Turner… and, Ms. Smith?" He said audibly, then dug into his pocket and flipped out another shilling, this time Jamie caught it and pocketed it after a short glance to see if it was authentic. " I have a question I'd like to ask ye. I'm rather new to this place; I haven't been here in some time. That ship over there, d'ye see? With the Black Sails?"

They both swiveled their heads to look at The Black Pearl, which was the only ship anchored in the cove to sport Black Sails.

"—Who captains her nowadays?" He asked lightly.

" Claire's da!" cried Jamie, then quickly put both hands over his mouth as Claire stepped on his foot.

" Claire's da?" The man repeated softly to himself.  " And, who would he be?"

Claire regarded him for a moment, and then a wide smile crept across her face as he returned her look inquisitively. After a few moments, she answered him, " Why, everyone knows that the Captain of The Black Pearl is Jack Sparrow!"

" Is he now?!" The man said in an excited tone of voice, and then leaned forward to regard the two faces closely.   " Where might I find this, Captain Jack Sparrow?"

" He's at the Faithful Bride." Replied Claire.  Jamie was watching her with an open-mouthed expression.

The man nodded in confirmation of her statement, then crossed each grubby hand with yet another shilling from his pocket.  "Will ye two be my guides to this here… Faithful Bride?"

The children were more than happy to oblige their unexpected patron. They set off at a brisk pace with the man on their heels, back towards the tavern they'd come from not more than a half-hour ago.

~*~*~*

The two barmaids had commenced with their cleaning of the tables and getting ready for the nights activities when the weathered man and the two children walked into the tavern.

Claire took a look around the tavern and spotted her mother coming out of a bedroom on the upstairs landing, she was arranging her hair and smoothing out her skirts as she closed the door behind her.  Claire left Jamie with the stranger and headed up the stairs to Emma, who regarded her warmly.

" Mama, there's a man 'ere who's been asking question's about da!" She said in one swift breath as she rounded the banister in excitement.

Emma glanced at the stranger through the corner of her eye, and then smiled down at her daughter.  " I'll get Jack, why don't you have him sit down for a drink while he waits?"

Claire nodded, then turned and flew back down the stairs with surprising energy.  Leaving Emma to return to the room she'd just left. She poked her head in the door to see Jack as he was just buckling on his Baldric.

" Claire was just at the door." She said.  Jack turned to regard her with amusement.

" Aye?"

" She says there's a man downstairs, who was asking questions about you."

Jack raised an eyebrow at this, then shrugged on his coat and doffed his hat.  " Does she know who it is?"

" She didn't say." Emma replied as Jack took his pistol from the bedside, checked to make sure it was loaded, and then shoved the barrel of the flintlock in his belt.

She followed him out of the door. Jack sauntered down the steps towards the taproom with arms swinging in their usual manner, but then he froze at the foot of the stairs, causing Emma to almost run straight into his back, as the man sitting at his favorite table in the corner looked up from his tankard.

Brown eyes met brown, coal-lined eyes, and Jack's jaw dropped.

" Nice ter see ye again, Jack Sparrow." The man said as he raised his cup and took a long swig.

Jack took a step forward, then stopped again and stared wide-eyed.  Emma glanced up at his face. His expression was frozen and incredulous, she noticed his hands, which usually were always moving, for once were completely still and tightly clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides.

Emma glanced over at the kids, who were watching him with identical looks of amazement.  Nothing shocked Jack Sparrow, but he was looking at this man as if he was looking at a ghost.  She quickly ushered them outside, sensing a need for privacy, and then whirled around and watched the awkward exchange that was taking place from the doorway.

" What's this?" The grizzly man cocked his head to the side and smiled at Jack.  " Have ye lost yer way with words, Captain? Ye haven't gone mute since I last saw ye, have you?"

Jack was quick to regain his composure. Nothing could shock him for too long, that was a given.  His look of confusion was replaced quickly with one of curiosity as he sauntered slightly stiff-legged over to the table to greet the man looking up at him.

" It's nice to see you haven't lost yer way with words either…" Jack said lightly, stopping a few feet away.  He leaned back on his heels to regard the newcomer down the bridge of his nose.  His eyes were alight with a glimmer of excitement that Emma had not seen for quite some time.    " Though I must admit…" Jack continued, "…Yer looks have taken a rather sorry nose-dive since I last saw ye… William Turner."

The name played across her mind and she stiffened, directing a disbelieving gaze to the disheveled man seated at Jack's favorite table.

" Turner?" She thought.  " It can't be!"

" Or…" Jack raised one hand in thought, then squinted down at him and cracked a roguish grin.  " …Would you prefer that I call ye Bootstrap?"