Title: The Wanting Comes in Waves
Pairing: Jack Sparrow/James Norrington
Note: Don't own, never will. Italic font is James, regular font is Jack.

He had always loved the sea. It had been part of him since boyhood. At an early age he had decided he would live on the sea, and die there as well. As he touched the sword shoved through his chest, feeling the wound gape and quiver, he could only think about the sea. His back hit the sideboard heavily, and he leaned on the railing as his strength continued to leave.

Finally, he simply toppled overboard, and the Sea spread waiting arms, and he slept.

In the inky blackness, he didn't breathe or even seem to exist. He hovered, somewhere, surrounded and held like a child.

His eyes slipped open, and he stared into the wizened face of the Sea. She smiled a silver smile and reached out with cold fingertips. He closed his eyes again, letting her touch his face. Her hand slid down his chest and touched the ragged hole. "Ye are mine James Norrington, fore'er." Her fingers twisted almost cruelly in his wound, nails catching at the inside wall of his chest as she pulled him forward effortlessly.

Her beautifully cruel face hovered in front of his, her dark, dark eyes staring into him as she cocked her head like an inquisitive bird. "But an'th'r wants ye for their ownsy. Favors owed will be repaid." Her purpled lips crashed against his like waves against a crag.

Something seared through him as she released him, making his body bow back as his mouth gaped open helplessly. He floated away from his chosen mistress and disappeared back into dark unconsciousness.

Jack sat, all by his lonesome, in a shallow grotto. The waves lapped and tugged playfully at his bare toes. Out in front of him, playful ocean deepened and darkened into something infinitely more serious. One of his hands lifted to twist and twirl his chin braids, thoughtful. The more he thought, the more his mind tried to stray toward the Commodore –Admiral his mind corrected- but he stayed those thoughts before they could progress too far.

Young Elizabeth had told him the last adventure of the young naval officer. The young man had died as he'd lived, a protector and a good man. Jack snarled at nothing in particular; he shouldn't be thinking someone was a good anything if they continually tried to kill him.

He continued to scowl at nothing in particular as a small rowboat came to fetch him. Gibbs waited for him just outside the grotto's arms as if he had nothing else to do. Finally, with a huff, Jack stumbled to his feet, grabbed his boots and hat and swayed his way out to sea. Out to sea – where he belonged.

Sometimes, his memories eluded him. Other times, they darted through his mind like quick silver fish. He tried to convince himself it didn't really matter. His body, long and lean and agile, slipped through the dark water silently. The ocean stroked fingers through his hair.

He settled on a rock, his long body curling about the rough surface. His long fingers pushed through the water, reaching for an anemone but it drew in on itself. He cocked his head at it, letting bubbles trail out of lips quirked in a smile.

Some days, he remembered his name, his old life, people he'd known. Other days, all he knew was the Sea, the way she loved him, and his strange new world. He was content, for the most part, but sometimes a cold shiver of duty left undone overcame him, wiggled into his soul. For a brief moment, a small frown crossed his lips. His brow furrowed as he stared at nothing at all, thinking.

Huffing a large bubble of air from his lungs, he left the rock in a flurry, deciding whatever it was didn't matter.

The last thing Gibbs had said to him, before leaving him at the grotto as Jack spluttered and waved his hands about him frantically, was "We're not ex'ctly hijackin' the ship…jus'…forcin' a break on ya cap'n." Jack kicked aimlessly at the waves; it still felt like they'd taken his Pearl. He didn't care if it was a vacation of sorts.

He walked rollickingly down the beach, talking to himself. "Bunch o' trait'rous louts! The wh'le lot o' 'em." He was so caught up in his own triad that he nearly tripped over a peculiar find. It appeared the Commodore -Admiral- had decided to take a nap on Jack's beach, which was stranger than it first seemed…as the man was dead. He bent at the knees to get a closer look, thinking perhaps this was just the body washed ashore.

The naval officer appeared as pale as he always had, despite his current lack of shirt. Hair with barely enough length to be called long lay damply about his skull, without gathering sand to it. Those eyes were closed, peacefully it seemed, and Jack had no trouble allowing his gaze to continue its observation. The chest was broad and well defined with muscles, and dark hair scattered sparsely across the pale skin. There was a curious lack of any wound, period. A small grouping of small, dark green scales had been washed onto the man's skin, just along the cut of his hip. Another set rested just off to the side of his bellybutton.

Jack reached out an inquisitive hand and attempted to brush away the scales, but found them firmly attached. A befuddled look took up residence on his face. He touched the scales again, supple but hard and slightly warm under his touch. Confused, Jack allowed his gaze to continue the rest of the way down the Commodore's –Admiral- body, which ended in a long, muscular tail of dark green scales and fins. Jack yelped and leapt back, thoroughly scaring the sleeping creature awake.

His eyes leapt open, his fingers burrowing his fingers into the sand to propel himself into a sitting position. He swept his long tail toward himself, the long trailing and ragged flukes twisted lightly to rest against his body. He turned his head, cocked at a curious angle, toward the man staring at him, mouth agape.

The dark, tangled mass of hair and trinkets and those dark, kohl-smudged eyes struck a memory…somewhere. The man continued to gape at him, and he felt a little self-conscious. He opened his mouth to form a response to that stare, but his vocal chords didn't work as well as they once had. So he settled for staring right back, defiantly.

Jack stared into those confused but defiant green eyes. "Well…this is ah su'prise, aye Norr'ngton?" At the use of his name, the creature cocked its head as if trying to remember. He wanted to edge closer, but found himself slightly unwilling. His hands fluttered out toward Norrington before drawing back. Those sea green eyes continued to stare at him blankly, as if unaware of their history together.

The idea, of Norrington having forgotten all they'd been through together, hurt him more than he should have liked it to.

He picked at the sand in front of him absently, staring into those green eyes. Something was missing. While the Comm-Admiral still held that proud, defiant look, something had changed. It was if something dangerous, previously locked down, had been allowed to roam. Something wild and wholly uncharacteristic of the reserved James Norrington he knew had taken up residence.

It was almost as if a fraction of the sea had taken up residence in the man's marrow, changing and twisting him, somehow. Knocking down any walls that civility had constructed between the passionate emotions he had witnessed firsthand and the man's iron clad self-control.

Silent as the grave, the sea creature before him turned to face the sea, head cocked as if listening. Jack could see strong muscles coil before the sea reached out warm, silver fingers toward Norrington's body.

The Sea was calling him, whispering his name like some lusting lover. The ocean's fingers reached out and touched his scales, pulling him closer. He leaned forward, and his tail flicked and undulated under his body. The scales whispered against the sand before being muffled by the waves.

His long fingers grasped hold of a wave, pushing his way through regardless, and his body propelled him forward easily. The long tail slithered behind him, pushing him forward as the flukes steered him restlessly. He wasn't expecting a welcoming party, but the Sea swept him up into her arms. Her cold bluish black hair twined about him as her dark eyes regarded him. She wove her long fingers into his hair. "Was Jack regalin' ya wit' tales o' yer adventures?" He stared at her silently, calmly. The longer she held him, the cooler his body turned. His tail flicked restlessly, and she let him go.

"Jack be wantin' ya for his ownsy." Her voice murmured in his mind, and he looked away from those eyes. Some days, he didn't even remember a man named Jack. He felt the ocean pull away from him, and closed his eyes slowly before staring at his mistress. Her hair danced wildly about her as she glared at him and pointed a finger menacingly. "Donnae forget James Norrington, ye are mine." The ocean swelled around him roughly, following the Sea's angry triad, and she was gone.

He couldn't help himself, really, as he stood out in the warm Caribbean sea. The waves lapped around his bare calves, and he looked down into the crystalline water. Colorful, little fishes darted around his toes. Jack's gaze skimmed as far out into the ocean's waves as he could.

Jack wouldn't let himself admit that he was searching for the creature that Norrington had become, but he was. With a sigh, he gave up the search and returned back to the beach, the warm water sluicing around his bare legs as he moved. As he noticed the figure on the beach, he froze, before taking a deep breath and continuing forward.

Tia gave him a level glare the second his bare toes touched sand. "'ello Tia."She was on him in seconds, her dark eyes flashing and her teeth bared in a snarl. "Ye've been sniffin' 'bout me man." He drew back, carefully regarding her. "I haven't done ah thing luv, hon'st." He held his hands up in surrender as she poked at his chest. "I've always noticed ye an' the way ye look at 'im. James Norrington is mine."

His heart flinched in his chest. He watched as she stalked out into the sea, the waves curling around her, beginning to absorb her. The deadly beautiful goddess turned back to him, the sea curling up around her hips, "But, I haven't forgotten ye settin' me free, Jack Sparrow. When ye're on this spit o' land, he is yers." And the waves pulled her down, and he watched her go. With not much more to do, he sat down at the sea's edge to wait.

He found himself being drawn toward the small island where the wild man had been. The man had spoken to him, treated him as if they'd once upon a time known one another. The Sea ran cold fingers along his body, even as he swam in the sun-warmed water. It didn't take a genius to realize that his mistress the Sea was unaccepting of this strange relationship he apparently had once had with the man.

Slowly, he crawled into the shallow water near the shore, his body stretching and curling in the warm water. He propped himself up on his elbows, his tail curling sideways toward his hip. He noticed the wild man walking toward him; even from the long distance, he could see the broad smile on the man's face. That smile curiously made his heart curl in his chest.

He could see Norrington relaxing in the shallow warm water in the grotto, and couldn't help but grin. Jack made a beeline for the creature. "Ah! I've been lookin' fer ye Norrie." He sat down in the sand, letting his gaze roam over the creature in front of him. The sun glinted off that pale skin, catching on the glimmering green scales. "Ye know…tha' green really brings out yer eyes."

A sandy brown eyebrow cocked upward, and he laughed. Slowly he got to his knees, feeling the warm water lap against his knees. He still couldn't believe it, that there was really a merman in front of him. His fingers gently touched the supple green scales before running his palm over the cool tail in front of him. The tail twisted away from him, and he felt a broad hand push him roughly between his shoulder blades.

Jack toppled into the sea, the warm water splashing up over him. Spluttering, he sat up, shaking his head to fling water away. He glowered over his shoulder at the smirking creature Norrington had become. He huffed a sigh and sat down, soaking wet, on the mildly damp sand at the water's edge.

Easily, he laid down in the sand, watching as Norrington relaxed further into the sand, laying down next to him. He smiled up at the sun, feeling a small breeze tug at his clothes. "Yer mistress is afraid I'll be stealin' ye away from her." He could feel the ocean tugging at the ground under his back. He rolled his head on his neck, dragging his dreds through the sand.

Those deep green eyes peered at him, waiting for more it seemed, and he sighed. "I'd have had ye when I had the chance…if only I'd thought about it more."

He rested his head on the pillow of his bent forearms, facing the wild man. The easy tone rollicked over his eardrums, and he relaxed in the warm sunshine. That cool feeling of duty left undone coiled around his spine lightly, and he furrowed his brow. He wondered briefly if there was something to do with the man beside him.

Suddenly, he felt the desire to say words. Something. Anything. But when he opened his mouth and tried to clear his throat of the gritty feeling lining the inside of his neck, no sound came forth. Closing his slightly salt chapped lips, he pressed his chin against his forearms and looked straight ahead. He tensed his jaw, fighting down the strange emotion pressing against his chest.

It took memories flooding back to remember that feeling. A young woman rejecting him. The wild man beside him reaching out to touch him. A tiny man treating him like a slave.

The emotion was shame.

He watched the emotions that washed through Norrington's green eyes before they disappeared, like a water spout dropping back into the ocean. Jack ignored the strong urge to reach out and touch the pale shoulder. Finally, he gave into the desire and rested his palm against the young Admiral's arm.

Those green eyes turned toward him, stared into his eyes, and that sandy brown head tilted to the side lightly. He wondered if Norrington even remembered him. Slowly, he pulled his hand back and stared up into the clear, endless sky.

"I rem'mber the day we met Adm'ral. I had jus' pulled young Miz Eliz'beth from the ocean an' 'ere ye came. Tall an' young an' covered in gold brocade." He chuckled, remembering the way Norrington had come storming down the dock. "There was so much passion in ye. So much and it drew me to ya."

He tried to ignore the look that Norrington gave him, as though the younger was trying to remember the day and was unable to recall the memory. He tried to ignore the sudden hurt that settled heavily in his chest.

Blinking slowly in the hot sunshine, he remembered bits of the last few years, which had been more excitable since the young Norrington had stepped into it. When he opened his eyes, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees before pushing to his feet.

He watched as the wild man in front of him pace in front of him, churning the sand with every footstep. Suddenly, those dark sparkling eyes were turned toward him, staring down into him. "Do ya even rem'mber me Norr'ngton? Do ya even rem'mber yerself?"

The man dropped again to his knees, his face close enough to his that he could smell the other's breath, like rum and oceans and meat. A slender hand reached out toward him, gently touching his cheek, glimpsing down toward his lips and lingering at the corner of his mouth.

"Ye're James Norr'ngton. The most feared man in the Caribbean. The great Pirate Hunter." The smile that stretched the man's lips was curious, as if rueful or resentful. Those fingers darted away from his face, pressed against the other's shirt. "An' I'm Jack Sparrow. The only pirate to slip through yer fingers." The cold sense of duty curled tightly around his spine, and he stared at the man, until he forced himself back into the warm water, pushing through the waves.

He flicked his tail once, his fingers pulling him through the water toward the sandy bottom. He curled along the soft, white sand and stared up through the clear water. He tried to remember any of the names the man, Jack, had mentioned, but none rang a bell. Not really. Of course his mistress had used the name James often enough for him to recognize it as his own, but it struck no memories.

And they continued on in this way, much to Jack's chagrin. They would sit at the seam where the sea met the land, and he would regal Norrington with stories of himself and of the young Admiral in front of him.

More often than not, he found himself staring at James, while the other stared off down the beach or up into the sky, watching clouds. He noticed the way the sun lit up James' skin, making it shine like the inside of a shell, and caught his hair in a way that made him notice the sandy streaks running through the dark brown.

And on the rare occasion that he wasn't watching Norrington, he was watching the horizon to see his beloved Pearl. Though he missed the ship like crazy, he wasn't too keen on the idea of leaving James and the island and the quiet life they'd established. It was almost like being caught, he thought to himself.

But all good things, eventually, come to an end. And one day, near dawn, he noticed his ship lurking out in the deep water beyond the grotto's shallow cove. He knew the small dot that was steadily getting bigger was Gibbs in the rowboat, coming to fetch him. He cast one last longing glance out at the sea and then back at the small island before striding out into the shallow water to meet Gibbs.

When he slipped up into the shallow waters in front of the beach, he had almost expected Jack to be there. But the wild-looking man was nowhere to be found. Stretching out in the warm water like a cat in the sun, he let his eyes slip shut and relaxed into a light doze.

The next time his eyes opened, the sun was dropping nearer to the ocean, tingeing the waves light pink, and Jack was still nowhere to be seen. Hurt curled in the pit of his stomach, and he sighed.

Slowly, he turned and slipped back out into the cove, his tail flickering lazily behind him. The Sea, seemingly knowing of Jack's disappearance, smiled as if she had won. That smile made his heart ache, but he ignored it.

Of course, that didn't discourage him from returning to the island over the next few days. He always seemed to find himself heading off in that direction by midmorning. Around noon, he would settle in the sun-warmed shallows, his head pillowed on folded arms, and he would wait. But Jack never came.

And finally, he stopped going to the small island in hopes of finding Jack waiting for him by the sea. He knew he should have known that Jack and he were worlds apart, and that they would be kept apart. He knew the Sea would find a way to see to that.

Jack listened to the satisfying splash as the rowboat dropped overboard and into the sea. Giving up all drunken pretenses, he grasped the edges of his beloved Pearl and started to lift up onto the edge. A strong grip landed on his upper arm, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder at AnaMaria.

Those dark brown eyes implored him. "Wait Capt'n. Why. I jus' want ta know why. Why here, this spit o' land, this man." Relaxing his boots back to the sturdy base of his Pearl, he let his gaze drift out over peaceful ocean. Jack tried to think of what to say, but finally just sighed.

"I…saved young Miz Eliz'beth all those years ago because I was raised to be ah gentleman. Meetin' the lov'ly Commodore was jus' ah perk. Those eyes. Green as the ocean they were. An' I wanted to keep bein' the object o' his desire. I was there to pick up the pieces after Miz Eliz'beth tore 'im apart. I gave 'im purpose again.

"Ev'rythin' I did…I did to see 'is passion. 'e was supposed to catch me."

He gave her a look and then dropped overboard. The sea surrounded him in warm arms, and he struggled up and into the boat. Wrapping his hands around the oar handles, he turned the boat around and began to row.

He had seen the ship, lounging about in the deeper water like a great basking whale, just off the island's coast. An unidentifiable emotion curled in his stomach, and he started off for the island. He felt the water grappling at his skin, catching on his arms, tail, hair. Trying to keep him from the island. But he struggled on, because that cold sense of duty left undone had been mounting, and now it wouldn't be ignored.

Startled, he felt the Sea wrap a cold hand around his tail and yank hard, dragging him backward into her chilly arms. Her dark eyes bored into his as she wrapped her liquid body around his tightly, effectively stilling any thought of motion.

As he felt her cold fingers gently trace the contours of his face, he tried not to shudder. He maintained eye contact with her, even as her cold fingers traced his lips. He felt her words in his mind, popping like bubbles against the inside of his skull. "I know ye love 'im. 'e loves ye more than I ever imag'ned."

It didn't take a genius to feel the anger of his mistress. Her hand pressed flat against his chest, and he could feel the scalding heat instead of her normally cold touch. Wincing, he looked down, and was startled to see her hand pressing through his chest. He gasped in a hurt breath, staring into her eyes as if to beg for mercy, as he felt her fingers curl around his heart.

"James Norrington." He could hear the hurt in her words, feel it as she tightened her fingers just barely. "Ye were supposed ta be mine." His throat itched, and he shook his head, trying to clear his throat. He could see the sorrow in her eyes.

"I love ye too." Her lips smashed against his, even as her fingers clenched around his heart before relaxing suddenly. He felt her hand relax from his chest, felt her body relax away from his. Somewhere near his heart or soul, he felt like a piece of himself was missing, hollowed out.

And then he felt the ocean rush in, filling his lungs and stomach, blackening his vision. He struggled through the aquamarine water, his fingers reaching for the bright blue sky.

He couldn't help himself, as he paced the small stretch of beach where Norrington always seemed to wash ashore. His gaze searched each white-tipped wave, looking through the bright blue-green water for a flash of pale skin, dark hair, and an emerald tail.

With each passing hour, his heart felt heavier. After a month on the island with James the curious lack of the merman made him wary. He had hurried back to see the other, having missed him more than was expected. Unbidden, the thought of Norrington being hurt, captured, or killed sunk into his mind. He felt his knees begin to buckle and sat down heavily in the sand. The ocean lapped at his boots. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he continued to watch the tide, waiting for a flash of the young man.

When the sun began to set, and turned the ocean to fire, he got to his feet. It hurt a bit more than he wanted to admit that maybe his company didn't mean as much to Norrington as Norrington's meant to him. Sighing, he turned to go up the beach, his shoulders feeling much too heavy, as if burdened with the weight of the world.

Then, up ahead, set against the warm orange and red glow of the sunset, he noticed the lean body making its way through the water, seeming much taller than normal. His heart lurched, and he ran. His boots barely found purchase on the shifting sands, nearly sending him sprawling more than once, as he ran toward Norrington.

He moved slowly through the waves, feeling the ocean curl and lap around his unsteady legs and hips. He cast another glance over his shoulder, watching as his mistress lifted up past the waves just barely. He knew the silver smile curling those blued lips was a sad one, and he was torn between his love of the Sea and his love of Jack.

But then he blinked, and she was gone.

Returning his attention to the figure on the beach, he watched as the wild man, Jack, ran toward him. He felt his lips twist gently into a smile, and he continued walking. He felt the ocean pushing him forward, sliding down over his hips and then thighs, clinging to his calves, then just his ankles.

His first step onto dry land in so long was nearly thwarted as Jack threw himself at him, nearly toppling him back into the sea. "James! Wha' black magic is this then?"He felt rough fingers touching at his thighs curiously, and the accompanying blush that ranged across his cheeks. Anxiously, he batted Jack's hands away from him, until the other just settled for staring at him lecherously.

"I…" He stopped, clearing his throat until it no longer felt coated with sand and grime and tried again. "For the…longest time, I've been dealing with…a feeling of…duty undone." The broken nature of the sentence made him cringe internally, and his voice, hoarse and rusty from his term of silence, made his ears ache. His fingers reached out, finding Jack's shirt, then the arm beneath the thin fabric. Those dark eyes sparkled up at him.

"Oh aye? Duty undone aye?" He nodded slowly, feeling the smile curl its way across his lips. His fingers curled tighter about Jack's arm, tugging the older closer to him, and he smirked. "You said you were…the only one to ever…get away. Well…now I've…caught you." He smiled triumphantly.

Jack laughed brightly, tossing his arms about his neck and smashing their lips together. On his unsteady legs, he stumbled backwards, finally crashing down into the warm water. The ocean lapped over them, but that didn't deter Jack from kissing him.

Finally, breathless, they broke the surface and Jack smiled at him impishly. He felt his lips answer that smile. "Wha' took ye so long ta catch me Jamie? I've been waitin' fer a while now." He opened his mouth to say something but Jack's lips smothered his again. "Nevermind luv, I won't be lettin' ya get away this time."