And Taxes 5 - The Mad Fangirl

Title: Taxes 5 - Halloween / Day of the Dead
Author: The Mad Fangirl - batya_93@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, savvy?
Rating: NC-17
Arrrrchive: Yes, please - just tell me where.
Pairings: W/J, E/N, hints of G/E (you'll see...)
Warnings: Hot guy-guy slashy action; i.e. men having graphic sex with
other men. Also, for those that avoid such things, there are het
references. Nothing graphic, though, and it's only to serve the greater
good of the slashy plot, I swear! Also, Major Character Death in 5B.

Summary and Notes:
Hi all! Fangirl here. To follow, you'll find Taxes 5, which is really
two stories, 5A, Halloween, and 5B, Dia de los Muertos. Halloween's
going to be more loopy fun, Day of the Dead a bit heavier. Fair warning:
5B will also reveal the death of one of the past lives, which I guess
qualifies as a major character death, even if they've come back already
in our time.

If you're new to the Taxverse, the above should give you some idea that
we're going with the present reincarnations of our POTC favorites, but
it's not quite that simple. When Will and Jack remembered who they used
to be, they ended up with both personalities sharing space in their
heads, and it's been pretty much like that all 'round. Oh, yeah, and
Jack works for the IRS now. More details in the prior stories - order
is: "And Taxes," "Taxes 2 - Past Life Hangover," "Repression, Obsession,
and Past Life Regression," and "Die Hard with Pirates."

POVs in 5A: Will, Will, Jack, Jack, a little Liz, and a tiny bit of
Giles.

Oh, yeah, did I mention the Buffy: The Vampire Slayer crossover? 'Cause
Halloween is one. Wink.

POVs in 5B: Will, Will, Jack, Jack, Greg, James, Liz, and [SPOILER].

* * *

It was the light he noticed first, so bright it made this place nearly
unreal, and somehow, also, more real than anywhere else. As before, his
eyes adjusted, and as before, once they did, he saw ...

Dark sails billowing, wood sun-drenched and glowing and oh, so
smooth...he stood at one of her masts this time, and he leaned his cheek
against it. Warm she was and scented like the sun as well. It felt like-

"-Home, right?" Jack Byrd opened his eyes and was unsurprised to find
Jack Sparrow before him. Only to be expected, when he stood on the deck
of the Pearl. The *Pearl*...

"Yeah. Oh, yeah."

"Afraid nowhere else will ever feel quite as much home as this, me own."
The pirate sidled around to Jack's left and then behind him, slid one
arm behind Byrd and one behind the mast. "Good thing we carry her with
us now."

"Well, she carried us so many years," Byrd replied. "I guess it's only
fair."

"Me thoughts exactly."

"Yeah, huh?" Byrd smiled and felt Sparrow smile too. The emotions, the
comfort, the joy washed through him and back, echoing both through the
pirate and their ship.

//Oh, how I love you...// And it could have been any of them that
thought it. But there was more, something more...He let himself drift,
searching in the warm, warm sun, eyes wide open. "There's something...I
can almost hear..."

Sighing, he leaned back into the arm supporting him, and the pirate
spoke in his ear. "'Twas she that brought us here this time. Pearl has
something to tell us, she does. Come...I always hear her best at the
helm, meself."

Byrd let Sparrow lead him - he felt dazed, sun-struck as his former
self. Then the captain moved behind him again as Jack's hands found the
pegs of her great wheel. Sparrow leaned flush against him, his own hands
one peg to either side. Jack let himself drift further, moved her as she
bid, and listened. There was more felt, though, than heard - mad joy
welled in him and he grinned, laughed aloud. And there was need, so much
need, need to find...find..."Jack, have you got..."

"Here, mate, right here." Sparrow handed him the compass and he stared
at the spinning needle, which suddenly made perfect sense. "Try not to
lose the message in the madness, me own, and I'll do the same. It's
hard, I know - she's glorious. Can overtake ye, and she will, but with
luck, we'll hear enough."

The wind caught her sails, then, and here the Pearl needed no crew
greater than the two who manned her now. Jack caressed the wood beneath
his palm; every bit of him in contact with the ship or with his other
self electrified. He listened, they listened, with every part of them,
trying at least to commit the message to memory so that they could sort
it out later, because now they needed to move, had to fly. The horizon
beckoned and receded, bloody tease that she was, and they gave chase,
and oh it felt so *good* - nothing felt like this bliss that was the
Pearl's communion with the rest of her soul. All that mattered, but not
all that mattered, there was a message, there *was,* it was in there
somewhere with the flight and the motion and the desire...they heard
even as they wanted, wanted...

Jack's eyes flew open. Desire still rode him and his fingertips tingled.
He stared deep into the brown eyes of his William, whose hunger matched
his own. Their mouths met in a greedy kiss. Both tongue-deep in each
other, their legs tangled and they rocked together. Jack reached beneath
pillows, found what he needed, and prepared Will fast as either of them
could manage, and then he was inside his love, plunging, thrusting, and
Will rose moaning loud to meet him. Roughly, Jack pulled and caressed,
drawing forth the other man's passion so fast and so ardent, hot against
him. He rode Will, then, to softer more musical moans and his own
shuddering cry.

Just breathing, then, and for a while later.

"Oh...my...God." Will, finally. "My God, Jack, that was fucking
amazing."

"Wow," Jack agreed. "Just...wow."

A few more minutes, then, Will ending up curled against Jack's side,
head on his chest. "I had one of those dreams again," Will said. "Turner
and I were at the forge together, and I saw something in the flames. I
was staring at it, trying to make it out, and Turner was too, and it was
like the fire got inside us and we *burned.*" Jack felt Will's eyelashes
brush him. "Not in a bad way, though." Jack felt lips turn up in a
smile. "But I'm ...we're...still trying to figure it out. All I've
really got right now is..."

"...Norrington," Jack said with some surprise, though he was not
surprised when Will nodded. "Norton. Well. Why would the Pearl have a
message for me about him, of all people?"

"Is that where you were? Should've known. No wonder you were all hot and
bothered." His eyes lost focus for a second, and his voice changed. "I
remember when she would take you so, when you would come to me afire,
lay me down with mad need. You would say then that Pearl needed it as
much as we did." Will leaned up to meet Jack's lips, long and tender.
"Those are good memories."

"Mmm," Jack agreed, with a lazy stretch and yawn calculated to heat
Will's gaze at least ten degrees. It was working, too, until his feet
brushed fur and he heard a "Squeak!"

"Oh, yeah. Morning, Hector."

The dark, svelte ferret ran beneath the covers, finally emerging at the
top and clambering to his favorite perch atop the headboard while
emitting a series of growling clicks.

"You know he's not going to go away until somebody feeds him."

"...You're right. Guess we'd better get up."

"What'd you mean we, Kemosabe?" Will gave a yawn of his own that came
with a grin.

"This is how ye know I love ye, lad," Jack sighed, swinging his feet out
of bed.

"I knew that already."

"And I know ye did," Jack replied, "but in this case, I was talkin' to
the ferret."

Will snorted, then, and did not look up when Jack said, "Oh, by the way,
Will?"

"Yes?"

"Rather large spider on your knee, there."

"GHAAA!" and *Thunk!* as his back hit the rustic pine.

And, of course, "Jack. You die now," as he realized it was black rubber.

"Happy Halloween, love....Will? Ah, Will, me love...put that
down...Will...Will!"

* * *

The Mad Fangirl proudly presents
Taxes 5A - Halloween.

* * *
5A, Part 1: Day
* * *

Liz Swan woke Halloween morning to find the sheets mussed, and Greg out
on the balcony again. Instead of calling him inside, she slipped on a
large, warm robe and padded out to join him.

"Morning, baby."

"Good morning, my love," he replied, and she felt the little thrill
inside that Elizabeth hadn't lost entirely since her commodore awoke.
"Liz, hon?" Greg again.

"Yeah, baby?"

"You ever - I don't know, switch over totally? So you're in the
background and Elizabeth's doing the moving and acting and all?"

"You know," she said slowly, "I don't think we ever have. I think we
could, though." And from Elizabeth she felt interest, certainly, but no
urgency. "The boys - Will and Jack, they have. Gibson and Annie Mae,
too. I have no idea about Dad."

"I...I've...*We've* been tryin'," Greg Norton confessed. "I mean, he can
speak through me easy as anything - sometimes we don't even know which
of us is sayin' what. But movin's hard, and taking over..." He gave a
slight shrug. "He can't. Or I can't. I don't know. I want t' give that
to him - I feel like I owe him. He helped make me who I am." Greg let
his breath out in a short, frustrated sigh.

"Oh, baby," Liz said, putting her arms around him. "I've never seen you
not get something you wanted badly enough. It'll happen. It took Will
and Jack a while to get the hang of it. For the longest time, they could
only switch when they were having sex..."

"Whoa." Greg said, holding up a hand. "Way more information than I
needed."

"Anyway, give it time. That's my...our...advice."

"An' it's good advice - yours usually is." He took that hand and raised
it to her face, caressing the line of her jaw. "Just...know that, could
I touch you of my own volition, I would do so with joy beyond measure.
For now, this must suffice."

"Oh, James," she sighed, eyes closing. "I love all of you, whole and
entire. This thing you want will come, I know." Reaching up, Elizabeth
brought his head down for a long kiss. Then she spun away, grinning.
"Now come inside! I want you to see my costume all put together."

"'Kay," he replied, following her in. "An' then, we'll get you out of
it." He winked, and she fired back, licking her teeth. "Or maybe the
other way 'round."

Later, they gazed idly at the closet, leaning against one another.
"Can't wait t' see Jack's reaction," Greg said, yawning.

"Oh, yeah," Liz grinned. "Almost all of them are going with the 'come as
you were' theme. I *know* we're getting plenty of pirates, and they'll
be expecting a commodore."

"Won't they be surprised to find I've taken a demotion for the night."

* * *

Jack never did get back to sleep after feeding the ferret...

//...sounds like a dirty euphemism, eh?...//

...as he was too excited. He'd always loved this holiday. Now, his other
self tingled with excitement at the modern concept of All Hallows Eve
and the delights it offered. He still drifted, just a bit, from
sleepiness, but with just a few more cups of coffee, he'd be able to
take on the world.

//...love this stuff, me own self. About the complete opposite of rum,
but it makes me...//

//...shake like a Chihuahua?...// Byrd held his hand sideways, stared at
it.

//...well, there's that, too...//

Jack mixed chocolate powder with the next cup and squeezed a liberal
amount of whipped cream on top. This had the bonus of making his inner
pirate happy; Sparrow loved sweets, though he had no tolerance for
sugar. On the other hand, when the captain took control, their alcohol
tolerance went up by leaps and bounds.

Very slight noise behind them that was Will walking in on stocking feet.
Arms fell about Jack's shoulders and the accountant's head was pulled to
rest in the hollow of Will's throat. One, maybe both of them, sighed.

"All's forgiven, then?"

"Ohhhh, no," Will replied. "We're getting you back. We just need to
figure out how. In the meantime, breakfast."

"What's on the menu?"

"We've got the day off; I figured I'd experiment. Pumpkin pancakes."

"Ooh."

As it turned out, they were laden with just enough cooked pumpkin for
flavor, and generous amounts of pumpkin pie spice. Hector got interested
enough in the pancake batter that Will ladled a little bit out for him.

"I have no idea if that's good for a ferret," he said, and Jack
shrugged.

"Man or beast, he's got the right to pick his poison."

"Sounds like you."

"Maybe a little." Jack smiled at Will. "So, tonight's going to be
packed, and I'd like to do a bit of last-minute shopping later for some
odds and ends...putting together my costume's been sheer hell, but I'm
just about done..."

"Now, Jack, you know it took Sparrow years to put that look together.
You've only been checking out thrift stores for a few weeks."

"Yeah." Listened... "He says he can't help it if his timeless style
failed to catch on."

"I think maybe you both need a nap."

"But we've only just gotten up..." He leered enough for a
double-entendre. "Unless you'd like to wear me out again."

Will leaned over to pour Jack's coffee, raising an eyebrow, and then
smiling. It was a very Turner expression, tolerant and interested just
the same. Jack watched other parts of Will as he turned to place the
coffeepot back on the warming plate. He reached for the sugar container
and flipped down the catches...

"GHAAAA!"

"The trick," Will said, without turning, "is to take the spring-loaded
snake out of the can of mixed nuts and put it in some other container. I
mean, who doesn't see the mixed nuts thing coming..."

Jack let Sparrow flood in, while himself remaining - the pirate was far
better at menacing. As soon as Will turned, he began to back away.
"Jack? Um, Jack?"

Will couldn't entirely drop the smile as he backed off, which just
enflamed them more. Together they stalked him, enjoying more and more
the feel of being the predator. They doubted Will was truly afraid, but
they could see the whites of his eyes around the irises, good and wide.
And the kid was scrambling back and back, and...

"Ack!"

Will was extremely graceful by nature, so when he'd tripped backwards
over Jack's couch arm, he'd done it quite gracefully. Excepting the
squawk, of course.

If Jack had been more Sparrow, he'd have pounced, but Byrd came
ascendant again and felt more guilt than his other would have. "Will?"

The other man moaned, "Ow." But then, "I'm fine, Jack..." He sat up,
rubbing his tailbone. "Butt missed the pillows and hit a board or
something. Otherwise, fine."

"Sorry about that," Jack said, with an apologetic half-smile and shrug.

Will sighed. "Not your fault. Takes two to do the whole "chase me"
thing."

Jack just looked at him. "You really have my number, don't you?"

"Well, you've generally got everyone's number, so it's only fair."

"I'm not sure if I've just been insulted or not."

"So take it as a compliment."

Jack considered. "Okay." He sat next to Will on the couch, slipped an
arm around, pulled the man close, and kissed him lightly. "I am sorry."
He blamed the handful of candy corn he filched from the bowl before him
on Sparrow, too.

For a while, they drowsed before the dormant fireplace, leaning against
one another. Then Jack yawned and put his feet up on the coffee table.
Or at least, that was the intent, for his heel caught the bowl of candy
corn, which sent the contents flying, to cover the couch and the both of
them.

Will turned to look at him, raised an eyebrow, and then Jack felt
fingers brush as Will plucked a piece from his hair.

"Today's forecast," Jack sighed. "100 % chance of flying fructose in
parts of the Southland."

That rated an eye roll, which Jack had to admit he deserved, but then he
was fascinated by the pieces of candy corn that had caught in the
waistband of Will's boxers. It was only natural that he remove them with
his teeth. He slid sideways along his Will and the other man moved
likewise. Once Jack plucked one piece away, other parts of Will were in
motion, dislodging more candy that slipped inside the shorts.

"I'm afraid these are in the way," he said. "Could be more candy corn
hiding in there. You wouldn't want to sprout an ear of candy corn out
your - aaaahh...." Ahh, warm, moist, *Will* of a sudden, and there was
no way he was getting away with *that*...The captain washed back into
his mind, and the two shared the sensation that made them whimper low in
their throat as they pulled his shorts down in turn, grasping him in
their mouth likewise.

More of a dizzy rush than usual, owing to the sugar, but they weren't
switching, only sharing. They...he...devoured Will greedily, hungrily,
*losing it* utterly, bucking into the lad's own mouth which was pleasure
itself, and needing to make him writhe as well, pulling, sucking,
lapping, tracing patterns...knowing well what would make Will scream
around them if only they could *think*...stretch, press, *squeeze,* and
oh...ohhhh...so very close, time to grab his legs, hold tight, pull with
the tongue just th...there...ohhhh...mmmm....Will...WILL!
Riding...cresting...long sweet draught of the other and....Ah.

"Mmm."

After a moment, Sparrow fell back again, sated and nearly asleep, and
Jack Byrd craned his neck up to look at his Will, who was studying a
piece of candy corn, pulled from somewhere in the cushions.

"Damn," he said, "What's *in* this stuff?"

* * *

By and by, they managed to dress, both in jeans and Will in the
ever-popular "this IS my costume" tee. Jack's shirt was black, with red
horns and a goatee scribbled on the front. Will grabbed a glass of
juice, draining it before they hit the door.

"You know," Will said, placing the glass in the sink, "It was Turner
that jumped you. The rest of it...we were one, completely in synch, but
now he's feeling all guilty again. You know, because he lost it a
little."

"Didn't notice you two losing anything," Jack grinned, but he took
Will's meaning. "Anyway, we're supposed to let go. It's sex, for crying
out loud. Which we would've been, if our mouths weren't occupied."

"I keep telling him...but I'm just saying." Will smiled. "I'll
straighten him out." Then Will's eyes went vacant for a second, and when
they focused again, Will sighed and shrugged. "Eventually."

Through the door, and they were in the garage, Will sliding in behind
Jack on the bike and pressing up against him, hands lacing for support a
little lower than they had to.

"So, some last minute shopping for effects?"

"Why not?"

* * *

There was no way he was finding a tricornered leather hat, and the
sooner he resigned himself to that fact, the better.

It was still the least bit depressing - he'd located a reasonable
facsimile of nearly everything else. After a brief morning doze, the
Captain was alive inside him and searching just as avidly, but they were
having no manner of luck at all.

He saw, too, a gleam in Will's eye and a flow to his movements that said
while Smith held control, Turner was strong. Well, it *was* Halloween -
spirits of the past were supposed to start showing up around now, even
when they usually weren't present.

On their latest stop, they parked in the lot of one of the huge gypsy
costume warehouses that seemed to sprout in late September and wither,
abruptly, on November First. The place was packed, of course, and they
ended up at the end of the lot, even with the bike.

It was then that he happened to glance across the street, to see a
smaller, nearly deserted costume store, with the legend "Ripper's." He
took Will's arm and inclined his head over, and Will shrugged as if to
say, "Why not?"

Will entered first and slipped to one wall without much notice. Jack, on
the other hand, stepped through the door and declaimed, hand raised,
"I'm looking...for a hat."

"We've got hats," said the man behind the counter, in a smooth English
accent. He sighed. "Lots and lots of hats. Lots of everything, really."
He glanced across the street, almost involuntarily.

"Bad location?" Jack asked, sympathetically.

"The worst." He rolled his eyes, and idly tapped a medallion he had
hanging near the register. It set to spinning, catching Jack's eye.
"They weren't there when I signed the lease. I'll be lucky if I come
near breaking even this year." Jack shrugged, already considering the
hat selection.

//...not here either...//

//...no, and I had a *feeling* about this place...//

"My name's Ethan, if you need anything," the man continued. Jack picked
up a large, wide-brimmed hat in maroon. Not his style at all, but
definitely reminiscent of the past. "Going as a pirate?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, but none of these hats are quite right. I
suppose I'll have to settle for a bandanna."  And perhaps an extra
bauble or two...a bowl on the counter caught his eye next, and he ran
his fingers through it. A glint of silver...

//...no, it can't be...//

Green fire so deep as to be almost black...

//...how...oh, how in the world...//

Jack removed an intricate silver ring with a wide, oval stone.

//...this...was *mine*...//

"That would be perfect for a pirate costume," the shopkeeper said.

"Don't I know it..."

And then Jack bit his tongue and put on his game face, but it was too
late - the man had seen how much he wanted this thing. This ring. *His*
ring.

//...if only it'd been you...//

//...oh, but 'twas me that gave the game away, me own. I was no help
here...//

"Fifty dollars," Ethan said, and Jack's heart leapt, for obviously the
man thought it a replica. Sterling, of course, and thus pricey, but if
he only *knew* the piece's provenance...

Well, Jack certainly wasn't going to tell him.

"I'll go twenty," he said.

"Thirty."

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty-seven, and you *know* you're taking advantage of me, right?"

//...pirate...// whispered Sparrow with the feel of a grin.

"Got it." It was a museum piece, really, and Jack very nearly felt bad
for him.

Then he caught the man examining Will's assets as the younger man looked
over a table of swords, and sympathy evaporated. Jack let his other self
out for an instant, just long enough to nick the marble medallion
hanging from the register. The pirate was just so much better at some
things.

Jack paid up, and then he and Will left past a familiar-looking woman
who fingered a pretty white snow leopard mask with plastic whiskers.
Thought for a second..."Amy, right? In Accounts Receivables?"

"You remembered! Hi, Jack, Will."

"Hi Amy. See you tonight?"

She nodded, and they were back on the bike.

* * *

"I'm sure you thought you got an excellent deal," Ethan murmured as he
watched them get seated. "But I think tonight you'll find that there are
those that do the taking, and those that get took. Oh, I think this
Halloween is going to be very interesting for you...very interesting
indeed..." He laughed, then, long and low in his throat, until-

"How much for the cat mask?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't know there was anyone else in here."

* * *

Not much later, Will and Jack stopped at an independent coffee house for
snacks. Over pumpkin spice lattes, Will asked, "So, how much did we
leave that store with that we *didn't* pay for? You look far too smug."
Beginning to sound Turner, a bit, and a brief cloud passed across that
same self's features before Smith grinned.

Jack eyed the other man. Sparrow would have let it go again, but... "You
okay?"

Will snorted. "*I'm* fine. *He* keeps popping up and then feeling guilty
about it. He shouldn't - I keep telling him the walls are going to be
thinner today. Halloween, y'know? Plus, I don't mind."

"...Okay."

"So, you still don't get to change the subject. What'd you filch? And
don't tell me it was Sparrow, because it probably was, but I'm betting
you called him."

Jack sipped his coffee, grinning, and didn't deny it. He pulled the
medallion from a pocket. "It was on the register. Look here - " he ran
his finger along the detailing. "It's the god Janus. He's a patron of
doorways and gates - what with the two faces and everything. I figure we
could hang this over the entryway. He's also a god of duality, obviously
- two of him, two of me, two of you, the two of us...we *had* to,
love..."

"Man, just a little pirate voice and I let you get away with anything.
And you know it, too."

Jack acknowledged this with a smirk. "He also had a little-known cult
that worshipped him as a chaos deity. Chaos and meself being old
friends..." He winked as he pocketed the smooth marble again.

"That's an understatement," Will said mildly. "Although...that's not the
deity I'd most associate with you."

"Really? Huh. This is starting to sound like an online quiz or
something. 'Find your patron deity.' So who's mine?"

"Coyote."

"Coyote?"

"Yeah. Native American trickster spirit. Canny, savvy critter -
outsmarts everyone, people think he's nuts...you know." Jack snorted and
Will went on. "Or Raven, Anansi the spider, the Monkey King...no,
seriously." He took another long sip of coffee. "Okay, fine. Pick one
for me."

"Aw, that's easy. Hephaestus, Vulcan, the god of the forge. God of
fertility, creation in some ways...hot and virile..." pause, sip,
"...even if he is slightly lame."

"I saw it coming," Will replied, "I just couldn't get out of the way."

"Well," Jack said, "That just-" He was cut off, though, by the ring of
his cell phone.

"Jack..." Will said slowly, "when did you program your phone to ring "A
Pirate's Life for Me?"

But Jack was listening to the other party, saying "...yes, but...but...I
*know* I owe you, but he...but it's...oh, all right." Things went on in
this vein for a bit, and then he hung up.

"So, Will, you have plans around three?"

"I was just going to see what you came up with," Will said. He glanced
at his watch. "It's one now..."

"Well, that was Annie - looks like we've been drafted. Her husband
couldn't get the day off, and she's taking her youngest to the church
carnival, so we're on."

"Do I want to know?"

"We get to take her six-year-old trick-or-treating." Jack shrugged.
"Boat, car...I haven't yet *begun* to pay."

"Wow. I'm not the only one that has your number. Still..." something
suspiciously like a smile lurked in Will's eyes. "This could be fun."

"Hmm..." Jack considered the possibilities. "A rug-rat to corrupt. You
think we can make him a complete scalawag by four thirty?

"You realize Annie Mae's going to kill us, of course."

"This is Anamaria we're talking about. Either she won't care, or we'll
be wishing shortly that she had finished us off."

* * *

When they arrived at two fifty-five, it was to a babysitter dressed as a
vampire and little Eric Robbins, who was a pirate, of course.

"Avast!" the six-year-old shouted from behind his sitter's legs,
pointing a plastic sword at roughly the area of Jack's privates.

"Nice form," Will said, "but kind of below the belt."

"I'm six," Eric pointed out.

"Yeah, but it looks cooler if you hold it up at shoulder height, and
*then* shout 'Avast!'"

"It might look cool," Eric said, considering, "or I might look like a
dork."

"Okay," Will allowed. He looked up at Jack, who was smirking, of course,
and then asked, "We ready?"

"Uh-uh," said the sitter, "His friends should be here any second."

"Um, friends?"

"Shouldn't be more than six or so this year. Probably more like three or
four." She smiled, showing fangs. "I charge quadruple to take 'em. Bet
Annie conned you into doing it for free."

"I owe her one," Jack said.

"Uh-*huh.*" The sitter gave him a look. "Seems like everyone owes Annie
a favor, but I'm seriously impressed."

"How bad can it be?"

The doorbell rang.

* * *

"Are you married?" This from the far-too-adorable little skeleton with
pigtails.

"What - no, you see..."

"Mr. and Mrs. Johnson took us last year. They were married. Are you two
married to each other?"

"Is that your wedding ring?" asked a diminutive devil.

"Ah - no, um..."

"They can't be married," said a Spongebob Squarepants. "They're both
guys."

"Uh-uh," said the devil. "They could be. I saw a book."

"Well, actually, technically, we couldn't be, yet, because the laws of
this country are unfair and unjust..."

Eric the pirate snorted. "I knew *that.*  I read Doonesbury *and*
Boondocks."

"He's straight *out* of Boondocks..." Jack murmured just to Will, but
Eric heard and apparently took it as a compliment.

"If you had kids, would they have two daddies?"

"They can't have kids," Spongebob insisted. "'m sure about that one."

"Could 'dopt kids."

"Are you going to adopt kids?"

Oh, Will decided, this was better than cable. At least, as long as the
kids' attention was on Jack, it was, and Jack drew attention like flames
drew moths.

"Look!" Jack said, and was that a hint of desperation? "Candy!"

Someone had, perhaps unwisely, gone away and left a bowl of "100 Grand"
bars on their porch.

"We should prob'ly only take one," said the skeleton.

"Nonsense," said Jack. "Take all you can! Or, at least, take all you
want to."  He pondered. "Do you think you could sell them or trade them
at school on Monday?"

Spongebob thought about it. "100 Grands? Yeah, probably."

"So, what do you think we should do, Captain Eric?"

"Clean out the bowl!" Eric said happily.

"There you go! Now, listen, make sure y'give everyone an equal share,
savvy?"

"Of course!" the kid said, pocketing his loot. Then he kicked an extra
candy bar with his foot and looked up at Will, who winked and nodded,
then looked over at Jack.

"I won't tell if you won't."

Eric pocketed it.

"But the older kids won't get any," said the devil.

"Yes, but they could have come out earlier. They think it's cooler to
come out in the dark," Will pointed out.

"And as a result, we beat them to the loot," Jack said. "It's just good
strategy on our part, so really, we *deserve* it all."

"Y'know," Eric said, "I think we should look for more bowls of candy."

"Also excellent strategy, Eric me lad."

* * *

There were more bowls of candy, but there were also doorbells to ring
with the cry of "trick or treat!" Everything was going quite well, even
when Spongebob asked Will and Jack both how much money they made,
because it gave Jack the opportunity to explain times when a little
lying was okay, if it made other people feel better. Of course, Will saw
the next question coming, and snickered when the skeleton asked if Will
or Jack felt better. It was visible, Jack biting back his first ten
responses because everyone there save Will was either six or seven years
old.  Fortunately for his boyfriend/captain, though, the kids spotted
another lit doorway.

"Trick or treat!" and each child received a plastic-wrapped item
delivered with a smile that Will found a bit smug. The door then closed,
and Eric examined his loot.

"*Toothbrushes!?*"

"Oh, that's just snide beyond belief," Will said. All the kids nodded,
but he had the feeling that Eric even knew what snide meant.

"These folk are definitely not in the Halloween spirit," Jack observed,
with a bit of the Captain's demented gleam in his eyes. "They didn't
give the kids a treat. Hey, kids, anyone know what you do when you don't
get a treat? C'mon, you just said it..."

"Trick?" asked the skeleton.

"Very good!"

"I've never played a trick before..."

"Any of you?" asked Will, and they all shook their heads.

"Even you?" Jack asked Eric, and the little pirate shrugged.

"Okay then. We're gonna do this one up right..."

It was Spongebob that found the napkins, next door on the porch, from
the remains of a Halloween party. Bright orange - Jack declared them
perfect. Eric kept a weather eye on the doors and windows while
directing their placement in the hedge along the side of the house. Once
they were well wedged, the devil held the hose and the skeleton turned
on the water, so that the napkins would melt and stick.

"Go, go, go!" Jack urged, and they all took off running, down the block
and around the corner. Will took one look back and smiled, for now, the
toothbrush house had a bush emblazoned, in bright orange paper mache
letters...

"L.A.M.E."

* * *

"Okay, one...two..."

"Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?"

"SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS!"

"Absorbent and yellow and porous is he!"

"NO, no, not *that* song - the *other* song..."

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me! We pillage and plunder and rifle
and loot..."

Will looked at the chorusing children and smiled as they walked the last
block back to Annie Mae's house.

"We did good, didn't we?"

Jack walked back behind the group, to Will, letting Eric lead with his
swinging sword. He threw an arm about Will's shoulders.

"Yeah. Kinda gives you a warm glow, doesn't it?"

"Maybe we should adopt kids."

"Maybe two, or three...or ten...on the other hand, I can barely handle a
ferret." They came up the driveway to the ending verse, and Will and
Jack joined in. "...aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads, drink
up me hearties, yo ho!" Annie Mae and her three-year-old were just
unloading the car, and Annie turned and waved. She also stared just a
bit.

"All right, kids! So, what did we all learn today?"

"TAKE ALL YE CAN! GIVE NOTHING BACK!"

"Very good! Okay, I'm giving you all back to Mrs. Robbins now, so be
good, or if you can't be good, don't get caught!"

Annie Mae just kept staring at Will and Jack, mostly Jack, as the
children filed into the house.

"God in heaven," she said. "What have I done?"

"Nothing that can't be reversed by a few sessions of Sunday
school...that is, if you're so inclined." Jack winked.

"Will, couldn't ye stop him?"

"Hey, why should I be the only one corrupted by ~Captain~ Jack Sparrow
around here?"

"I'll have ye know I was a perfectly respectable lady's maid before I
met that scalawag."

"Really?"

"Nah, I was a cutpurse since I could walk, but I wanted to see if ye'd
buy it." Anamaria smiled, and then her voice shifted. "So, I'm going to
go see just how badly you've corrupted the kiddies. Thanks, you guys."

"Any time, Annie Mae."

"You mean that, don't you? Well, what do you know. Jack Byrd's a kid
person. Who'd a thunk it?"

"This does *not* mean you get a free babysitter on demand, you know,"
Will advised, and it had been Turner come forth again. Another taste of
guilt...Will was going to have to head that off, and soon. Nightfall was
nigh, and he felt a change in the air. He looked at Annie and Jack, and
knew they felt it too.

"Please, me exploiting Jack is the definition of karma."

"Not when it gets in the way of him...exploiting...me," Will replied.

"Oh, honey, he's corrupting you all over again, isn't he?" Annie Mae
said, with a smile.

"If I'm lucky."

* * *

"Night's falling," Jack said, and his voice had an almost eerie quality,
hovering between halves. Will leaned against him as he filled the bike's
gas tank. "There's somethin' in the air, crisp and strange. Can you feel
it?"

"Yes," Will breathed. "I think...I think it's time for us to go home and
get changed."

* * *
5A, Part 2: Nightfall
* * *

They cycled through the shower, Will first - a pirate's scent was a
concession to authenticity neither quite wished to make. Then Will
wandered out, moist and half-naked, to the living room, drying off in
front of a crackling fire. Jack, on the other hand, used the heat lamp,
and then set about getting ready.

Now, the transformation was very nearly complete. Jack had kept his hair
bound back all day, and so the extensions were harder to see. Now they
hung loose, unfettered. Hadn't time to stop dying it, but he'd had
auburn highlights added back in. Dreadlocks were out of the question,
but braids, he could do. Of course, he'd been stockpiling beads.

Some of the clothes were on, some strewn on the bed. No flintlock
pistol, and Jack had not looked, because for some reason the instrument
of his vengeance spoke more to him of grief. But he did have quite a
fine sword, and of course, he had his ring.

Now he held the bottle of eyeliner in his left hand, and slowly raised
the brush to his eye with his right. He hadn't painted his eyes since
college. Jack felt the buzz behind his eyes, felt Sparrow shiver with
anticipation, or perhaps it was him that did so...

//...I feel you so strong today. I'll be you in an instant. This...this
is a key that invokes you faster than mere reaching, stronger than a
hypnotist's spell...//

//...Aye. 'Tis the season, I think...It's your choice, but I'll guard us
well, and I'll not let you sleep long...and truly I don't think you'll
be able to sleep at all this night...//

//...Oh, I *want* this...// Byrd thought in reply.

//...Then take it. Take it as I take us, and I shall give ye back, this
I swear...//

//...Yes...oh, come to me...//

>From the first thin stroke of black, his hand knew where to move. It
truly was like a switch being thrown this time, an internal click, the
tripping of a breaker, the crashing of a breaker...and oh, oh, yes.

Captain Jack Sparrow considered himself in the mirror and grinned, teeth
too even and too white, but that was a change he didn't much care to
undo. And clean-shaven, but why not? He had been, on occasion.

He felt an ache in those too-even teeth, did Jack, and knew it was Will.
Then, he'd expected it, and applied a bit of rum to the problem while he
waited for his lad to come around.

//...My Will will talk him into it, don't worry...//

//...Never had a doubt, me own...//

* * *

//...Oh, Turner, just *go*...//

The dissonance was making Smith itch. He wanted...oh, he wanted, and
Turner wanted too, which was the problem...and he'd *known* this was
going to happen...

//...I can't be enslaved to my desires, my own self. It's dangerous for
us...//

//...We've *had* this discussion. A *lot*...I want this...// Dirty pool,
he knew, but...he fed Turner just a bit of the sheer pleasure he felt in
yielding to him, felt his other self waver...

//...But this need, it's so strong now, and has been increasing all this
day...//

//...And the stronger your desire, the more you fear it, I know, God do
I know, how hard did you fight the ocean?...This is like that, you know?
It's so strong because it's bigger than us, bigger than Jack. Whatever's
happening, it's the time, the season, the night...a force of nature...//

//...There is no shame in yielding to that, is there?...// Needing,
hopeful, *wanting* to be convinced...almost there...

//...Not at all...Please, Will Turner, I need this too...we are meant to
be you tonight...//

"Mmm...yes...oh!" Quick shift pushing a rush of heat, and Will Turner
stood, Smith an inordinately satisfied murmur in his mind.

//...Now doesn't that feel better?...//

//...Yes, damn you...// But the thought was tender. //...You're as bad
as *he* is...//

//...Sometimes I'm worse...// Oh, Smith sounded entirely too smug. It
was hard to care, though, as he was pulled to the bedroom by something
invisible, irresistible.

Jack met him at the door.

"Ye're trembling like a virgin on her wedding night...mmph-nnh..." He
gasped, stumbling back from the assault. "Or not..."

"Why do I think you'd know?"

"Because you're wise beyond your years...but I haven't been a virgin in
any sense, or had one, for a very long while..."

Will wasted no more time in pulling Jack atop him to the bed. He got his
first good look...oh, the beads, the darkened eyes...*Jack*...

"So beautiful..." Will murmured. "Seeing you thus, again..."

"What does it do to ye, lad? Tell me. Exactly."

"It makes me tremble," Will said, pushing down Jack's half-done pants.
Jack trembled.  "It makes me want to drink you forever." Their lips met
in a kiss that opened wide, and they drank each other.  "It makes me
want you within me, filling and completing me, claiming...ah!" Jack
ripped the vestiges of modern clothing from his Will, thrusting two
fingers in at once. Smith's body knew this as well as his pirate soul,
and pulled, pulsed, relaxed.

Jack added a third finger, and leaned in to lick Will's member as he did
so. Just light touches, teasing, distracting. Will knew it was coming,
but there was no preparing for Jack finding the spot inside and pressing
as he did. He nearly came right then, but Jack withdrew slowly,
stretching as he went.

"You'd have me claim you, treasure?"

Will decided the perfect response was to spread his knees and arch his
back. He craned his neck, and Jack was at his throat, licking as he
positioned, biting down as he pressed within.

Turner bucked and twisted beneath him, working Jack in further,
tortuous-slow. He began the rhythm, slow still, like the beat of gypsy
drums, then speeding slightly, as would the drums again. Will thought of
Jack dancing, and knew that Jack was dancing now. He looked into his
captain's eyes, utterly possessed, and felt Jack take the rhythm, the
lead. No words, and the gaze was sharp, intent, but Jack smiled with his
fierce joy and Will knew his own grin to be as bright. His eyes rolled
back as Jack moved faster, faster, faster still...

This dance...this rolling...this feeling...this desire this need this
pleasure cresting...filling, almost too much, beyond too much, not
nearly enough, he could take more, he could take it all, he needed,
needed..."Jack...more...more...oh..." Hard, so hard within him, and then
the rough grasp surrounding him, working him, drawing him to...and
there...and beyond...oh, so *warm* they were...yes...YES...

The joy was so great...their world flickered... Turner was Smith was
Turner and all belonged to Jack...all Jack...

Who held their quieting body oh, so tenderly, as he pulsed his passion
within.

A jumble of arms and legs, and Will murmured, "Of course, I was yours
long ago."

"Aye, but vows are reaffirmed all the time. 'Tis fun, and a grand excuse
for a party."

"Drinks all 'round?"

Without disengaging, Jack handed him the rum. Will took a long swallow,
gasped, and grinned. When he put the bottle down, he found Jack looking
at his ring.

"'Tis odd, but I think I just felt me ring tingle, just a bit." He
pondered. "Wasn't cursed, was it?"

"Not that I knew of."

"Ah well. Maybe I'll remember better after some more rum." He grabbed
his vest, pulled it on over the shirt he still wore. "If only I had me
hat..." he sighed.

"Oh, well, as to that..." Will slid, slowly, away from Jack and stood.
He reached up to the highest shelf in Jack's closet and took down a box.

"But ... that's..."

"That *was,*" Will corrected. "What was in this hatbox is now
at...our...apartment. What is in it now..." He whisked the lid away with
a Jack-like flourish to reveal a brown leather tricorne.

"Me hat! Oh..." Jack ran a finger along the brim, slowly. He lifted it,
turned it, brought it to his eye. "Oh, lad, what've ye done?" His smile
had barely a hint of its sharp, mad edge.

"I had it made, as a surprise. Do you approve?"

"Do I approve, he asks me. Oh, Will, me love, if we weren't so recently
spent, I'd show ye just how much I approve, but even Captain Jack
Sparrow's got limits, much as it pains me t' admit."

"And I do love you, my captain, but more loving so soon would likely
pain me as well."

"So it's just as well, then."

"That it is."

The deep kiss that followed served just fine.

* * *

While the Royal Inc. party started soon, the pirates had time to kill,
and, as Jack pointed out, pirates were rarely early anywhere, save to
the odd ambush. Thus, the two pulled off the road for drinks at the same
hotel bar where they'd borrowed (with every intention of returning) a
cigarette boat some weeks back. They'd stopped for the tall windows'
amazing view of the moonlit Halloween sea, but upon arrival found a
Halloween party in full swing.

"Oh my God," said a drunken Link, his arm around a pink-skirted Zelda.
"You guys look *great!*"

"Seriously," Zelda said. "You've gotta be the best ever." She chugged
the last of her drink, and said, "You're gonna kick our asses."

"But we aren't..." Will began, and Jack cut him off.

"A costume contest, is it?"

"Well, yeah."

"And what's the prize?"

"Well, duh. Alcohol."

Jack smiled. "We're in!"

They drifted inside, getting in without cover as they were in costume.
Jack said a word or two to the bartender, who nodded, and then started a
tab in the hopes of getting it paid for.

Will requested dark ale thick enough to chew, and got pretty much what
he asked for. Jack, on the other hand, was exploring yet another
variation on the theme of rum, which called itself a peach daiquiri.

"Ah, lad, you and I loosed again for fun, and hopefully without all that
nasty angst, mm?" Jack leaned forward earnestly. "If ye feel any angst
coming on, lad, let me know, and I'll provide ye with rum."

"Smith is alive within, and alert," Turner murmured back. "He's enjoying
himself quite a bit, in fact, and he says he hopes we got all the angst
out of the way this morning. No, Jack, I think it's well."

"Well, ye should have more rum anyway, on principle." He snatched his
daiquiri out of Will's hands. "Not *my* rum, whelp!"

"You're welcome to my ale." So Jack waited until Will took a sip, then
kissed him and got it that way. Someone hooted, and then arms grabbed
their shoulders, and Jack half dragged, half swayed to the bar. Four
barmaids surrounded them, lifting them atop it, and the bartender
shouted, "Okay, that was Link and Zelda. Next up for best costume and
best video game characters..."

"Video game?"

Will shrugged.

"We've got Will and Jack as Guybrush Threepwood and Elaine Marley, from
the Monkey Island series! Give it up for the best Guybrush and Elaine
I've ever seen!"

Jack's head turned fluidly to consider Will. "Ye don't look like an
Elaine."

"I'm not."

"Ah, hell. Knew I should've grown a beard."

In response, Will pinched him on the rear, and Jack whacked him upside
the head, out of sheer reflex. Then he shoved Will forward, leaping
ahead of him to catch the whelp in his arms as he fell off the bar. The
crowd burst into hoots and applause.

"I'd say you cheated," Will murmured, "but you may have won us that
contest fair and square."

"More's the pity."

* * *

They meandered back to their seats, and Jack sipped at his rum.  A flash
of blue caught his eye, and he looked down and over to see a small blue
man, no more than three apples high. He stood just outside, at the
corner of the window, and wore a white cap and pants.

>From Jack Byrd's memories, Jack easily placed him as a Smurf, and also
recalled, vaguely, a similar white hat in the costume store they'd found
that morning. But that wasn't the question, anyway. The question was how
Jack had managed to start hallucinating so early in the evening's
drinking, and...Jack waved down a barmaid with his glass.

"Lass, can I get some more of whatever this was?"

He got another, all the while needling Will about drinking something
harder than ale. So Will ordered, with a grin, a shot of "Jack, straight
up."

The whiskey arrived at their table, and suddenly Will was grasping air
as Jack downed the liquor instead.

"What the...?"

Jack looked at him, suddenly solemn over the empty glass. "This shot was
not meant for you."

Will groaned, and even more gratifying, whacked himself upside the head
with the heel of his hand. "Couldn't resist, could you?"

"Ye know I have t' say these things or they just fester..."

The music cut for a second, and a voice proclaimed, "All right, you
geeks! Winners of the video game division and the couples division -
Will and Jack as Guybrush and Elaine. All your drinks to this point have
been comped! Congratulations!"

"T' this point? That's *it?*" Jack sighed. "Good thing we got an early
start."

"Well, there's always the Royal Inc. party - free drinks all around.
Plus," and Will did have a sly smile on occasion, "perhaps you'll be
able to get Norrington drunk..."

"I think Elizabeth rather takes care of that, love - and if I tried to
drink 'im, I'm fairly certain she'd shoot me..."

"Impossible...incorrigible...obnoxious..." Will paused, obviously
waiting for it. Jack gave a sufficient pause, then obliged.

"...Pirate."

The lad sighed. "Just so."

The two exited the bar past a clown juggling twelve colored balls with
professional skill. They crossed the hotel lobby and walked to the bike,
and Jack felt Will settle warm against his back. They took off down the
road to Royal Inc., only to stop suddenly for a highway obstruction.
Jack rubbed his eyes and stared, for it appeared to be a woman in
dominatrix leathers chasing after a cow. Also, upon closer inspection,
the cow seemed to be wearing shoes.

Jack watched them cross the road and clear it, and blinked. "Well.
That's something ye don't see every day. Will, what exactly was I
drinking, do ye recall?"

"Peach Daiquiris, but I think there was a Fuzzy Navel in there
somewhere. It wasn't, however, the drink that caused that, since I saw
it also."

"There's something odd afoot this night, not that that's necessarily
bad..." Jack mused, and gunned the motor again, passing a dark limousine
idling at the next crossroads. Then he barely avoided taking the both of
them down as he fishtailed the bike, for in the crack of the window,
he'd seen, or thought he'd seen...

A bony finger, tapping on the front edge of the barely open pane...

But when he looked in the mirror, the window was closed, and then they
were too far along the highway and gone. Will's arms tightened about him
and he gave one wrist a reassuring squeeze.

//...wouldn't be, anyway...he died, and he'd be flesh again...wouldn't
he?...//

//...o'course, me own...o'course...//

Something odd indeed...but not necessarily his problem...

* * *

"Ethan? Oh, Ethan..."

Another smooth English accent, echoing through the costume shop on the
heels of the shattering of glass.

"Ethan Rayne! I know you're here. You may as well come out. It's time
for your yearly thrashing."

A sigh, and the shop owner stepped into the light. "Ripper. It's been
entirely too long." Ethan removed, lightning-quick, a bone talisman, and
a blue brilliance forked from it ...to dissipate harmlessly against a
dried lizard the newcomer had concealed in his jacket.

"Been learning new tricks, I see." Ripper grabbed Ethan by the collar,
slamming him against the wall, headfirst. "So have I. That was courtesy
of a demonologist in Chinatown." He held the stunned sorcerer, for such
he was, pulled back for a punch...and then paused, let the other go.
"What's the matter with you, anyway?"

"How do you mean?"

Rupert Giles, for such Ripper was, shook his head sadly. "You know very
well. This is...uninspired. Your mischiefs may be evil and are
invariably dangerous, but they are never, ever, repetitive. Willow
sensed this spell again..."

"Armageddon girl. I should have known."

"...which made me wonder, and now - I come here expecting chaos and
terror in the streets..."

"Disappointed?"

"...and I find most of your stock still on the shelves. While I
tranquilized one werewolf, the scariest thing I've seen so far has been
Hilary Clinton out wandering with Arnold Schwarzenegger." Giles sighed.
"You may as well tell me where your focus is, so that I can smash it and
end this. It's just sad, really."

Ethan laughed. "You almost had me there. So, that was your ploy. It
might have worked, except..." He blinked. "Actually, I think it did
work. You're right. I didn't want to drag out the old 'turn them into
their costumes' bit - I'm well aware it's extremely
nineteen-ninety-five. But the god was getting cranky, and if I didn't do
something in his honor soon, he was going to revoke his blessing."

"This was a sop to Janus, then?"

"Bloody right. I was paying rent. As he's a chaos god, though, repeated
spells don't work nearly as well. Nothing's gone right!" The sorcerer
seemed to be...yes, he was pouting now. "No inventory moved, a Halloween
World came in across the street..." He looked heavenward, or perhaps
toward Olympus. "Sorry!" Giles eyed him with a look he hoped was free of
any sympathy. "The Aztec gods are disturbingly strong in these parts,
and I didn't want to be without his power. There you go. And I'd be
happy to give you my bloody focus, except..."

"Yes?"

"I don't know where it is."

"Oh. Really." Giles' face hardened again. "Well. It's to be a thrashing
after all, then." He kicked Ethan in the goods, knocked him down with
clubbed hands, and put a foot on his neck. "You had to have it to cast.
Where. Is. It?"

"I didn't need it to cast. I've been charging it all week. And I think
the bloody pirate stole it!"

"So let me get this straight." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and
habitually pushed at glasses that weren't there, as he'd removed them
for a Ripper-style beating. "You turn someone into a pirate, and you're
surprised when he steals from you?"

"He wasn't a pirate at the time, all right? The spell was keyed to go on
at sunset. This was well before."

"All right. Fine. If you'd be so kind as to do a locator spell, then?
He's your patron; I've no special bond with Janus."

"It isn't that easy! I'm not your little power-Wiccan. I can
charge...let's see..." He murmured some words over a plastic compass as
a local disenchantment, then picked it up. "This. But finding the
medallion with it, not that you'll believe me, will only work as well as
the god wants it to. And I did mention he's not very happy with me at
present, didn't I?"

"Just do it."

"How corporate of you."

"Shut up. Get ready, and meanwhile, try to answer me honestly. Did you
sell any vampire teeth?"

* * *

The Royal Inc. party occupied several well-lit, heated tents on the edge
of the parking lot that bordered dense trees. Vehicles entered and
parked on the other side, across from the local Starbucks. Jack swung
the bike in and slid off the seat. Will slipped off behind, and asked,
"So, why did we..." his hand swerved in a fishtail motion and he
staggered slightly.

"Thought ye were gonna quit with the impressions..."

"I don't believe I ever said that, but you know I meant the bike."

"Oh, that. Was nothing. Just thought I saw someone I knew."

Will considered him, eyes narrowed, and then visibly let it go. Or he
looked like he did. Jack knew from both sweet and bitter experience how
tenacious the lad could be. The longer Jack could go without saying the
"B" word, though, the less chance of killing the party mood, which was
to be avoided at *all* costs.  As it was, their near-spill had gone a
good and disturbing ways toward sobering him up. Again, to be avoided at
*all* costs.

"Well," Will said finally, slipping an arm about Jack's waist, "Let's
get you some more rum, then."

"I love you."

"Ah, my Captain, that would mean so much more if I hadn't heard you say
it in the same tone to the rum." Will ducked another swat to the head
with his usual grace.

As they passed the nearest edge of cars, the decorations began. Jack
stopped suddenly, looking up.

"He couldn't resist, could he?"

Will followed his eyes. Hanging from a tree branch was a skeleton. Jack
doffed his cap, though there was no warning about piracy, merely a
placard that read, "Your Name Here."

"Isn't that great?" said a reveler dressed as the Headless Horseman.
"Norton puts that guy up every year."

"Why am I not surprised?" Jack growled. He glanced at Will. "Ye could've
warned me."

Will shrugged. "We both forgot."

"Ah, well. Let's get that rum. Alcohol makes everything better."

Will choked back a laugh and Jack wrinkled his brows, craned his head.

"Oh, nothing. Smith was just noting the similarities between yourself
and Homer Simpson."

There was really only one response to that. Jack swirled one hand up to
rest gracefully against his temple and said, "D'oh!"

The Captain did have just enough rum left in him to work up a decent
strut, which went into full effect as they stepped inside the main tent.
He noticed eyes on him, heard whistles, and smiled a little, satisfied
smile.

"We seem to be making quite the impression," Will murmured.

"Well, pirates are hot, savvy?"

"I suppose..." And the lad was not immune, for he was visibly pleased.
And did he have any idea how much Jack wanted to please him visibly,
with all those admiring eyes turned his way? A hand caught his mid-sway,
lingered in a whisper of a caress. Slight shiver at his shoulders and
his pants were tighter of a sudden. Oh, the whelp knew, all right.

"Pirates. There goes the neighborhood." A grinning Governor Swann
greeted them with pats on the back. Or perhaps it was Warren...a wolf in
sheep's clothing? For it was Swann's formal finery he wore.  "Welcome,
both of you. Do try not to steal everything that isn't nailed down."

"Your silver...is safe," Jack declared, spreading his arms and forcing
Will to duck. "Because it is, in fact, stainless steel, and anyhow, I'm
betting it's the caterer's, not yer own."

"You have a discerning eye for finery, Sparrow."

It was on the tip of Jack's tongue, and then he realized..."You said
that just t' hear me correct you, didn't ye? For old times' sake."

"Perhaps, Captain."

"Hmm..." And they traded wolfish smiles.

"Where is Elizabeth?" Will broke in, and the smiles took on mirrored
touches of pain, just the least bit, for this was a woman he'd once
loved. It had been against her father's wishes, of course, and far more
important, against the will of Jack's heart. But that had been long ago,
and it had changed utterly, long ago.

Was that angst? Oh, best to be getting to the rum. "An' more important,
where's the bar?"

"Both that way." Swann, or Swan, waved a hand, and Jack spun in the
general direction indicated, leaned, pulled Will along. On the way,
Gibbs caught his eye from across the room and waved; the old seadog was
chatting up a woman dressed as a stoplight. Anamaria didn't appear to
have arrived as yet. Happily, Jack found the bar next, and as he ordered
up a rum and coke, a familiar voice came from behind.

"~Captain~ Jack Sparrow. Well. They really will let anyone in the door
these days."

Will's stare should have tipped him off. Still, he began, "Inexpressibly
lovely to see ye also, Commo...dore..."

Jack trailed off, as it was not at all a Commodore's uniform and wig
that met his eyes. The voice, and the pure, flawless accent contained
within were Norrington's, certainly, but the clothes? A sharply-tailored
tuxedo that showed his long, defined form to advantage, with one of
Norton's guns in an obvious holster beneath. He looked at Jack over the
rim of his martini glass and said, "Commander. And it's Bond. James
Bond."

"We had the accents," said Elizabeth. "It seemed a shame not to use
them." Jack, despite Norrington's presence...

//...oh, let's be honest, *because* of it...//

...looked her up and down, slowly, toes to ... eyes, to toes again.
Rugged boots, tight tan shorts, an even tighter teal tank...and...he
squinted. Something seemed different. Bigger. And her thighs were girded
by holsters that held *two* guns. She turned to smile up at her spy, and
a long auburn braid brushed her calves.

"Milady Lara Croft." And she nodded happily. He took her hand in his and
kissed it, lingering long enough for even Will to raise an eyebrow. "Ye
look..."

"Terrific? Spot-on?"

"Bigger."

"Pirate," she said, but with a laugh in her voice. "All temporary. Part
of the character, you understand."

"Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Nor I," said Commander Bond, putting a possessive arm about her
shoulder and pulling her close. Will raised the other eyebrow, and
Elizabeth shrugged. Jack, though, was watching Norrington. He pulled off
the 007 bit flawlessly, but there was something off...disjointed...he
flashed suddenly to the Pearl's message and wondered if that was the
meat of what she'd been trying to tell him and his modern half. But as
he pondered, Jack felt an echo that was nothing so much as a Not Yet -
Wait.

//all right, Pearl love, I'll wait...anything for you//

He knew his smile had gone soft and strange while thinking of his Pearl,
so he took a deep drink of the carbonated rum to hone it a bit.  "Well,
me hearties, and those that're hardly me hearties, drink hearty, hmm?"

"Now that you're here, that's a certainty."

"Mr. Bond, you say things to warm me black heart, truly ye do." Jack
noted that the martini glass, though, contained some sort of citrus
punch at present, and so he waited until the affianced couple wandered
off, then engaged the bartender in conversation. Pointing to a man in a
long black coat and dark glasses, he said, "I think that's Lloyd from
Finance. Doesn't he make an excellent Mauritius ... Martian ...
Maurice..."

"Morpheus?" the bartender offered helpfully as Jack liberated a small
bottle of light-tinted rum.

"That's it exactly! Knew it was something sleepy." And the rum found its
way to the punchbowl with none but Will the wiser. He rolled his eyes,
of course.

"It's an evergreen, love," Jack said, shrugging. Slipping an arm around
Will's shoulders, he meandered the both of them to the edge of the tent,
weighing leaving the heated area against stealing the whelp off for a
quick one. His libido was winning, of course, when he saw something
large and mottled-white move sinuously through the trees.

"Oh, Will?" he said, squeezing the other man's shoulder and pointing,
but when Will looked, the apparition was gone.

"What is it?"

"Panthera Unica," Jack murmured. Will blinked. "Unless I'm mistaking me
big cats, it were a snow leopard, Will, or reasonable facsimile. And
normally I'd attribute it to drink and get more of whatever this was,
but I've had rum an' coke before."

"And normally I'd attribute it to your drink, but as I think tonight is
tending toward the strange, perhaps we'd best stay by the tent. The
party's picking up, after all." A three-man team dressed as Haku the
Dragon from 'Spirited Away' wove past the pair, preceded and followed by
women with hand drums. "See?"

Jack smiled. "Aye. And there's a vacancy at the bar..." He took
advantage of that to nick a half-full bottle of Captain Morgan for
himself. When he returned, though, he found Will conversing with his
boss, Brown, who'd come as a quite decent Frankenstein's Monster, even
leaning on a crutch. Jack shifted left, just a little, intending to
explore, and ran into James Bond again. Somehow, he was having trouble
thinking of the man as Norrington tonight, and he resolved to explore
that further after the proper amount of lubrication. Thoughts of
exploring and lubrication led his mind back to Will, but then he noticed
the secret agent downing his rum punch. Which would have been amusing,
save for the expression on his face.

Looking to Jack, he said, "I know it's spiked, Sparrow. You did the same
thing at our wedding."

"I'm fairly sure I never married ye, unless I was drunker that one night
than I thought. I do have vague memories of livening up the punch at
some function, though - ah, that's it! 'Twas Elizabeth ye married, not
me. And ~Captain~ Sparrow, thank ye kindly."

"You know very well what I meant." He finished his glass, and
immediately dipped the ladle again. Jack watched him take a large sip.

"Easy now, 007. I may be Captain Jack Sparrow, but you're not."

"Tell me, Jack," he replied, voice flat, "Had you met Annie Mae's
husband?"

"Long time ago, once or twice, as Byrd, o'course, but why..." Followed
the pointing glass...fumbled his own bottle. "Oh. Oh, I see."

There was Anamaria, of course, hair in six thick braids, hat ringed with
cowrie shells. Next to her, of course, was Tyler Robbins, and Jack knew
him, all right.

//"betrayers - and mutineers.//
//"You know NOTHING of Hell!"//
//"So there *is* a curse. That's interesting. That's *very*
interesting."//
//"I always liked you."//

"Oh, my."

//"You know NOTHING of Hell!"//

Jack took a long pull on his bottle. Then he took another. Finally, he
said, quietly, "He was me friend once, ye know, 'till he did what they
all did, and laughed doing it, and the curse twisted him into something
wrong that forgot even that kind of joy."

"I killed him," the officer replied, and Jack's head came up at that.
"Standing at the rail of the Dauntless that unholy night, knowing that
my sword would make no difference but having to try for all our sakes,
and the sheer surprise, Jack, on his face ..." He downed this glass,
considered yet another.

"He was me friend," Jack repeated, "and I ran with him under me first
captain, Black Jack Savage, with the two of them survivors of the same
bloody slave-ship mutiny. But if I'd have been there, I'd have done for
him." Jack leaned back just a little. "Considering yer opinion of me in
general, I can't assume that's a comfort."

"Unfair, Sparrow," came the reply. "But then, you *are* a pirate."

"A sorry pirate, occasionally, as you're fond of pointing out." He met
the other's eyes. "In this case, I am sorry."

"An apology from you. Could there be hope for us after all?" His sarcasm
was not quite as edged as it might have been.

"Hope springs eternal, Jimmy."

"Stop calling me Jimmy."

"Then call me Captain."

"And break centuries-old tradition?"

"Humor from you? Ye must be drunk."

"I'm still talking to you. I think perhaps you're right." Elizabeth
neared, then, and he moved to join her. "Look to your blacksmith,
scalawag. I know Elizabeth holds all my hope for yet enjoying this
affair."

Good advice it was, and Jack decided to take it. He'd been blindsided by
angst that seemed stubbornly resistant to rum. Wandering near where he'd
left his William, he found another familiar face, but this one happily
from his present orbit.

"Honey! Glad ye could make it, love. Have ye seen Will?"

Annie Mae's tall, well-built sister considered, then smiled and
beckoned. This allowed Jack time to appreciate her very minimal vampire
outfit, from the plunging neck to the tiny black wings at the shoulders.

"He went off into the woods after all, then?" It was possible - the
facilities might have been full up...

She did not answer, merely walked into the cool night air. When they
were a few trees beyond the tent, Honey turned and stepped close. She
put a hand to either side of the pirate, pinning him against a tree,
then slipped a foot along the inside of his calf.

"Is Will here at all, lass?"

"You caught me," she murmured. "No Will. Just us..."

"We go no further without him, love. Will and I have an understanding."

"But...you promised me a taste." Her arms moved in to hold his shoulders
tight, and he twisted, but she was far too strong. With an animal sound
she reared back and her face changed, deforming, teeth lengthening. With
mad desperate effort, Jack threw her off, but she was up again before he
could draw his sword. Then everything happened at once.

"Jack!" came Will's shout from his right. A sword whizzed by that would
have speared Honey's arm to a tree, had she not crumpled a second
before. As it was, Will's sword vibrated between two men, one of whom
held a tranquilizer gun and had the other man by the collar.

"No vampire teeth?" he asked dangerously.

"Well, maybe a pair."

Jack and Will stared, then, at the man with the gun. "Bootstrap!?" Jack
said, without thinking, and the man replied, "I beg your pardon?"

"I see the resemblance," Will said, his voice a very frayed calm, "and
it's eerie, but that is not my father."

"Not - not that I know of," the man said, and it was obvious now, of
course, but very little else was, and Jack was beginning to think that

the oddness of the evening had nothing after all to do with his alcohol
consumption, and that being a little bit drunk and a little bit mad
might actually be of help.

"That's him!" said the other man, meanwhile. "That's the pirate!"

"I'm the pirate, he's the pirate, she, apparently, is the vampire, and I
have no idea what, in fact, you both are..." Jack had his sword out now.
"Except that you're Ethan from the costume shop, and you sold me me
ring. Now that we're all clear on just how unclear we all are, I would
very much like an explanation. If ye please."

"He remembered this morning? He wasn't supposed to..." Ethan said. "See,
I told you! Nothing's gone right."

"Words t' live by, mate, but do explain quickly." With a wrist-snap,
Jack's sword-tip touched Ethan's neck.

"Iusedmagictoturnpeopleintothecostumestheyboughtatmyshop."

Jack blinked. "Well, that was quick."

"I'm sure you find all of this a bit hard to accept..." Bill's
look-alike said.

"I've seen living skeletons crew a sailing ship. I can accept hard to
accept."

"Living skeletons..." The man took a good look at Jack. "The curse of
Cortez. You didn't become just any pirate...you're Captain Jack Sparrow,
aren't you?"

"You've heard of me!" Jack crowed.

"And yourself?" Will put in.

"Rupert Giles. This person you know..." Giles sat Ethan on the
pine-needled ground, and Sparrow's sword lowered with him, staying at
Ethan's neck. "...although how is a mystery to me."

"I told ye," Jack explained again. "He sold me part of me effects. Are
ye a little bit drunk yourself?"

"No - I mean...the spell doesn't... and I'm not..."

"Oh, the spell. That does explain the Smurf..." Will gave him a curious
look, and Jack returned a finger-twist that generally meant 'later.'
"...but I don't think it worked on me."

"Why not?" Ethan asked from the ground.

Will counted down on his fingers as Jack replied, "Because I'm ~Captain~
Jack Sparrow, of course."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Trust me," Will put in. "It would if you'd known him longer."

"You see, not only am I Captain Jack Sparrow, but I already was."

"I'm certain you think so now, but it's only the magic -"

"I'm not so sure of that," Ethan began, then shut up as Jack's sword
nicked his chin.

"Right," The man with the glasses - Niles? - said. "Captain Sparrow,
might you have liberated a medallion from this man's store? He claims
it's the focus for his spell, and it's best we destroy it and end this."

Jack looked at him sidewise. "...What's in it for me?"

"Jack," Will began, reasonably, "Think about it. You just found out that
the medallion you stole was accursed, and you already knew it was sacred
to heathen gods. From experience, I'd say no good can come of it."

"First, they weren't sure I'd stolen it until now. Second, I was just
trying to get some good to come of it. Third, it wasn't nearly as
incredibly stupid as it sounds in retrospect, and anyhow, not a zombie,
after all." But he did move his hand surreptitiously into a shaft of
moonlight to be absolutely sure.

"Look, will you just smash the thing so I can stop getting beaten and we
can all go home?" Ethan said, cutting his chin again as he spoke. Jack
lifted his sword away just as Will retrieved his and came in to cover, a
flowing transition. Styles, (was it Styles?) meanwhile, went for his
wallet.

"Would you let me see the medallion for..." he rummaged "...$100?" In an
eye blink, the bill was gone, and Jack had pulled the medallion from
beneath his vest. "Pirates..." Styles muttered, and Jack smiled and
shrugged. But when ...no, Miles... reached for the image of Janus, he
pulled it back.

"Let's...think about this for a moment, though. This magician seems a
bit eager for his work to be undone, and even on such brief
acquaintance, he doesn't strike me as the type what makes things easy,
savvy? He's not, right? In general?"

"Well, no..." Miles replied, meditatively, "but it worked that way last
time."

"Aye, but I've a suspicion..."

"Oh, just do it. He only wants to keep his treasure."

"He's right, isn't he?" Miles said slowly. "You do want- " He wound up
for a kick, then stopped. "-and if you've been lying to me all this
time, no amount of pain's going to persuade you to honesty, is it?

"Nope."

"Oh, I wouldn't say *that,*" Jack put in, sinking to his haunches half a
foot from Ethan's face. He had the satisfaction of seeing eyes widen,
but had to add, "Unfortunately, I'm a bit too drunk for proper torture
this evening, so I've a better idea. The spell turned folk who bought
their effects in his establishment into their costumes, aye?"

Giles (That was it! Giles. Had to be...) nodded, and Will put in,
"Special effects, then."

Jack groaned. "I'm working here, whelp."

"Begging the captain's pardon."

Said captain looked up to the other Englishman. "Hold 'im," Jack
advised, "and hold out his hand."

Bootstrap's look-alike crouched and did so, and Ethan twitched, twisted
despite Will's sword. Jack removed his ring.

"It's not going to work," the sorcerer said. "The spell isn't...it
can't..."

"Then why are ye struggling so?" Jack said with a smile. "Isn't and
can't are fine words, but they tend t' lose their meaning near me
person."

"And why is that, exactly?" Just the hint of a sneer now.

"Because," and Will mouthed the words with him this time, "Like I said,
I'm ~Captain~ Jack Sparrow, and now..." Jack slid his ring on the hand
that Giles held immobile, "...so are you."

It was astounding to watch, truly - Ethan's hair lengthened, tangled.
His skin turned a deep tan, and a few of his teeth went to metal. He
relaxed in Giles' grip, and his head seemed somehow *looser* on his
shoulders. There was even a hint of kohl around his eyes.

"Well..." he said, Ethan's voice but very much Sparrow's accents,
"...that's very interesting." He studied the ring, then eyed Jack up and
down, and Jack did likewise. "My, but you're a handsome one."

"The same t' you, love," Jack replied. "Now, me, would ye mind telling
me what this one had planned, near as ye can figure?"

"...What's in it for me?"

"Oh, come *on*..." Will muttered, as Jack held up the hundred Giles had
given him and it vanished again in an instant.

"Right. By the way, this one's shocked that you managed to re-trigger
the spell after the preset time, and that I don't think it's the
eighteenth century. Don't see why I should - 's obviously not..."

"Can ye get on with it, me? I think Honey's waking up..."

Ethan/Jack glanced over at the prone vampire, whose fingertips were
twitching. "...Right." He considered the medallion. "Well, when I'm
right, I'm right. Smashing this isn't going t' break his curse. It'll
set it until sometime between next Sunday and the following Leap Year -
no way t' tell for sure. It will do something else, though."

"Good lord - what?" Giles asked.

"It'll trigger a backup for the lust spell ye ducked when ye first
caught up to him."

"*Lust* spell!?" Giles shook his head. "I thought he just...My God. It's
all starting to make a twisted kind of sense. He named the store after
me, used a spell I or someone I knew was likely to sense...he *wanted*
me to find him...to...to..." He shook his head again. "My God."

"Not like he was goin' t' ravish ye - the spell wouldn't have compelled
ye to be with him, savvy?" Ethan/Jack looked earnest. "Ye could've gone
off an' had yerself...a lot...but he was hopin'...Y'see," the magicked
pirate said, leaning sinuously away from the sword and yet toward Will,
"He hasn't really gotten any in a long while, and when he had it w'
Ripper, here, 'twas the best he'd ever had. An' he never minded a bit of
pain from this one if it got 'im what he wanted."

"Yes, well, considering that the last time I even entertained the
notion, I woke up with horns and scales, you can see why I might not
want another go."

Ethan/Jack sighed. "Thought ye might feel that way. Pity...ye do so
resemble William...Are ye *sure?*"

"Yes!"

"Your loss, then, love. But you'll always remember this as the day ye
could've f-"

Jack cleared his throat. "Vampire waking up over here. How, exactly, do
we break this curse?"

"Me blood on the medallion."

"Well, that figures," said Will. He moved his sword to hover before
Ethan/Jack's hand, and the ensorcelled man pricked his finger, touching
it then to the medallion of Janus.

Nothing happened. Or at least, nothing happened until Vampire/Honey
lunged at Jack's throat and got shot again for her troubles.

"Mmm. I'm not exactly me, though, at the moment, am I?" Ethan/Jack eyed
his counterpart. "I always was the only one could truly outsmart
meself..."

"Here," Giles said, reaching out his hand. The backs of his knuckles
were streaked red. "Ethan's blood, when he was Ethan." Jack ran the
medallion across the stain, and a shiver spread out from it, through the
night. Ethan lost his pirate trappings, and Honey's face returned to
normal.

Jack and Will, of course, changed not one bit.

Ethan pulled the ring from his finger, but then stared at it 'till Jack
snatched it back. With his other hand, he pinched the bridge of his
nose, unconsciously mimicking Giles. "Ow...That man thinks
*sideways*..."

"Lust spell?" Giles said dangerously, then looked at Jack and Will. He
kept looking.

"You two haven't changed at all."

"Oh, now he notices," said Ethan. "Give the man a gold star..."

"I did tell ye," Jack said.

"But how...not the curse of Cortez, surely?"

"Ye were right about the skeleton bit, there. There's a fine crescent
moon out tonight...if I were cursed, ye'd know it."

"Absolutely fascinating..."

"'Tis me curse to be, I know."

"There's great debate in occultist circles as to whether that curse even
existed, you know. I would dearly love to continue this conversation,
but..."

"You've got to run our desperate friend out of town," Will finished.

"I'm not desperate!" To three sidelong looks, he protested, "I really
did need to placate my god, and he's still rather upset with me,
although apparently his sense of humor's intact at my expense. I did
just have a pirate dissect my sex life from inside my own head..." Then
he focused on Jack. "But he's noticed you, too, and I have a feeling he
likes you. My spell wasn't meant to be customized. You may well be a
votary of my god now, whether you will it or no."

"Well, it's not like I've got any other deity wanting my..."

A chorus of coyote howls split the night air.

"...and that was just good timing," Jack said, looking around.  "Right?"

Will and Giles both shrugged. As Giles pulled Ethan to his feet, Jack
slipped a business card into his pocket. Giles removed it, stared.

"A pirate working for the IRS?"

"I know, I know. I'm sure the perfect quip will come to ye shortly. But
I've a question in the meantime. How'd ye find me?"

"Magic, actually. That reprobate enchanted this, at my ... request."
Giles removed from his pocket a small toy compass. "It points to the
medallion."

The compass vanished from Giles' hands as quickly as the hundred-dollar
bill.

"I beg your pardon!"

"Sorry, mate. Pirate. And I've got to have that compass. Y'see, it
doesn't point north."

The bespectacled man rolled his eyes, resembling Bootstrap even more.
Odd, how Turners developed that little tic in proximity to Jack.

"Fine. If you really must-" Giles began. He was interrupted by Honey,
who was standing, dazed and shaky.

"Oof. Jack, I dunno what I had, but don't let me have another, huh?" She
looked around. "Um, who're these guys?"

"We were just leaving," Giles said, suiting actions to words. "Jack?"

"Ye seem t' be on the side of the angels. Feel free t' give me a call."

"Be seeing you," said Ethan, with a wink, as Giles dragged him away.

"Catfight?" Honey asked. "Hope they didn't drag you out here to get in
the middle of some lover's quarrel."

"Well, as a matter of fact..."

"Ick," she replied. "It's Halloween. Nobody needs that crap." The dancer
shook her head. "Whoo. Somebody spiked the punch."

As they led Honey back inside, Will murmured, "Shouldn't she be out
yet?"

"Could be the magic flushed most of it from her system. But I think we
should leave off questioning it and just be glad that Anamaria isn't
seeing us drag her sister around all unconscious."

"Good point."

Back inside the tent, Jack lifted his rum bottle from where he'd left it
and drained the last few drops. As he began edging back toward the bar,
the swing band who'd replaced the D.J. struck up a credible cover of the
Squirrel Nut Zippers' 'Hell.'

It got to him somewhere near his gut and he locked eyes with his
William. Smile sneaking about the corners of his mouth as he asked,
"How's yer footwork?"

"Smith learned swing dancing years ago...Byrd as well?"

"Oh, aye..." and he grabbed Will up in a spin, establishing in no
uncertain terms that he was the captain, and so he'd be leading, thank
you very much. Then they were lost in movement, more spins and dips and
of course, surreptitious grinds. Drums and feet kept the rhythm with
Jack and Will in perfect sync. Horns blared and Jack let himself go, let
a bit of his own madness creep into the dancing, odd syncopations that
Will still saw coming and met.

Eyes on them now, he sensed peripherally, but the world was nearly all
music and Will flushed with lips parted. Spinning away, pulling back
toward, rocking, sliding sideways, drums, horns and song rising to their
peak, building to the big finish. On the last loud note he reeled
William in, twisting, wrapping him in his arms, dipping and kissing him
soundly.

They did not part until well into the applause.

As they straightened, Will blushing, Jack sketching two elaborate bows,
Will murmured, "You know that bit about keeping a low profile at work?"

"Aye?"

"To hell with it."

"Mmm," Jack replied, holding him close. "Now, if ye don't object, I'd
like t' make an exit. I'm still thinkin' of tryin' t' get to the West
Hollywood street fair, now that we've put in an appearance here. Plus,
it turns out Annie Mae's husband was part of me mutinous crew, and
that's a thing I've got to think on."

"Do you think he...?"

"I doubt it. I'll ask Elizabeth later to be sure; I'm fairly certain
Bond over there will have her take a look. The question is, does she,
and methinks it's not a question for tonight. So, time to be moving on."

"Well, if you're ready to ... I suppose the term is 'party-hop,' then I
am, as well. You do know that Los Angeles has rain predicted, though."

"Lad, I've had some of the best times of me life soaking wet. But just
think - if it doesn't rain, it'll be the closest we get t' a modern
Tortuga 'till New Years."

"Fine, then. Let's get you some more drinking and debauchery. We're
taking my car, though."

* * *
5A, Part 3: After Hours
* * *

Jack had been hoping for wall-to-wall bodies and drunken folk with loose
grips on their belongings, as in Byrd's memories of years prior. He
found, however, a very sane, if not entirely sober affair, with all the
elaborate costuming at least slightly damp.

There was still a decent throng, and Jack marked men dressed as sexy
firefighters, three distinct Tina Turners, a Balinese dancer, and the
entire cast of 'Kill Bill.' It was acceptable, he decided, though as
they stopped before a stage with fairly loud music, he let himself look
slightly mournful. Ah, perfect - Will, leaning in to cheer him up. Full
lips found his as the light drizzle specked their shoulders. The beat
set them both to moving again - nothing so formal as before, just
forward-back-twist, touching a little bit beyond street legal. Ludacris,
blaring from the turntables...

'When I move you move'
'Just like that?'

...Hips swaying...

'When I move you move'
'Just like that?'

...Thighs locked...

'When I move you move'
'Just like that?'
'Hell yeah! Hey DJ bring that back!'

Wonderful thing, choruses, Jack mused, feeling Byrd agree. Practically
guaranteed Will would do that thing with his hips again. Whelp's eyes
were closed, too - entirely different kind of sexy from when they were
open.

//...too hot...// Byrd murmured, and Jack assented. Only the rain kept
them from completely embarrassing themselves...

//...bloody rain...//
//...yeah...//

The music died down for a second and Will opened his eyes, took a
breath.

"Ye haven't got a hat..." Jack observed.

"No..."

"So ye haven't got anything t' keep the rainwater off those lips..."
Jack suited actions to words.  "Can make 'em swell, and while it's a
lovely look for Elizabeth...mm. Not sure I got it all." With another
kiss they'd edged back against a building, and were leaning on brick, at
the edge of a bar patio. Jack found an unattended cocktail on the low
brick wall and took good care of it. Then he stumbled back, ensuring
Will would reach forward, stumble back himself, further into the
alley...

And Jack, halting, as Will fetched up against him, for Byrd was
whispering...

//... maybe an alley in West Hollywood isn't the best place for two men
to be engaging in illicit behavior... the authorities might actually be
watching for that sort of thing...//

Jack gave an authentic sigh as he held the lad against him, and assured
his other half that he wouldn't hold it against *him,* for pointing it
out.

"You aren't going to have your way with me?" Will asked. "Captain's
prerogative..."

"Later, whelp!" But Jack did pull him in for a tight kiss, crushing
their lips together. One of them made a little mewling sound deep in
their throat, but he wasn't sure which it was...

Very distracting, so he could be excused for barely sensing the sword
seconds before it cut the space where they would both have been.

Was it blunted? Bad to assume...after all, *his* wasn't. His sword was,
however, out, and locked with someone who very much appeared to be
...black mask, black hat, cape...

Yes, he was, in fact, crossing swords with Zorro.

A click as the swords flicked down, met again...up, back,
step...testing, feeling one another out...

Zorro was good.

The D.J. at the hip-hop stage was spinning again, DMX this time.

'Y'all gon' make me lose my mind up in HERE, up in here.'

Slash, swish, spin...Jack ducked, and Zorro hooked his hat. This likely
saved the masked man's life, for it demonstrated that his sword was not
edged - the hat was balanced, not caught. But...was that a smear...?

'Y'all gon' make me go all out up in here, up in here.'

Zorro backed up, tossed the hat in the air, and whisked his sword as it
fell. He caught it low and tossed it back. It was now marked with a
black-chalked Z.

"Oh, no ye didn't."

'Y'all gon' make me act a FOOL up in HERE, up in here.'

Past time to be a proper pirate and cheat. Jack closed with him, face
intent, and Zorro began to look just a little nervous. Jack made sure
their blades caught, then let Byrd's martial arts knowledge sift through
for a foot sweep that had Zorro on his behind.

'Y'all gon' make me lose my cool up in here, up in here.'

Seconds later, the black-clad man was tangled in his cape and Jack had
his sword. Crouching, he held one blade to either side of Zorro's head.

"Yield?" he asked, now smiling again, and the man nodded. Fairly
quickly, Jack noticed.

"Whoa," Zorro said, finally speaking. "That was freakin' awesome! You've
got to be, like, the best pirate I've ever seen!"

"Theo!?" said Will, and it sounded a bit like Smith peeking through.

"I mean, most guys have the stuff, but they're, like, too cool to play
along, right? Damn, guess you might be good enough for him after all..."

"Theo, have you got to hassle every one of my boyfriends?"

"Oh Will?" Jack shifted eyes back and forth and back again.

Will sighed, and now it was definitely Turner putting on Smith's
accents. Poor actor, Jack's pirate a-

"Theo, Jack. Jack, this is Theo Gravas. We used to date. Theo, this is
Jack and yes, he's my boyfriend."

"Hi, Jack. No hard feelings?"

"I suppose not, no, as my exes tend t'be far less protective of me
person and far more likely t' assault it."

"Cool, cool. So not trying to steal Will back, by the way. I'm in a
thing."

//...as if he could...// Byrd, in a feral growl that confirmed they were
in fact the same man, deep down. Now, if this attractive, appreciative,
*annoying* swordsman could just-

"Can I buy you guys some drinks?"

Or, he could stick around just a little bit.

* * *

"How'd you get us in without cover?"

"I've me own brand of magic, lad, what's got nothing to do with chaos
gods and trickster spirits and everything t'do with rum and wanting more
of it."

"Right."

"Is that your real accent?" Theo asked. The three were now inside the
patio with the low brick wall, Jack sipping a pina colada. Possibly his
new favorite rum drink- he'd have to give that matter some thought. They
were still close enough to the hip-hop stage to catch all the music.

"Well, it may be that it is," put on Byrd's beach accents, "And maybe
not."

"Well, it's cool, anyway. You guys have a good Halloween so far?"

"Mm-hm," Will replied. "Lots of candy corn, trick-or-treating, costume
contest, office party, weird magical rituals, blood sacrifice...you
know, the usual." He tilted back his Guinness and leaned against Jack,
the both of them swaying in time. "You?"

"Decent. Well, I don't have to work tonight, so wonderful. My S.O. does,
though. When he gets off the job, he'll head over and we'll meet up,
hopefully, but..." Theo trailed off and held out a hand. Sure enough,
water was bouncing off his palm, and it was speeding up. Well, a bit of
rain never-

*BZZZZT!*

Bright spark and loud buzz from within the club, and the lights went
out. The stage provided enough light, but then an announcement came over
a megaphone from the bar. "Okay, looks like we've got a short somewhere,
and the fire marshal says no lights, no party. Everybody out!"

Jack, Will, and Theo just jumped the wall, not bothering to crowd for
the door. The rain increased, water beginning to sluice down Jack's neck
- he adjusted his hat and jacket just a bit. Will was soaked and he
looked *wonderful* thus, but he also seemed a bit cold. Theo, meanwhile,
was heading for cover.

"See you guys!" he said. "I'm not waiting for anyone in this!"

He was gone, then, and Will looked at Jack hopefully. "Car?"

Nefarious plan forming... "Yes, let's do."

* * *

The plan was very simple, and had mostly to do with the fact that Will,
soaking wet, needed privacy to be truly appreciated, at least in this
day and age. Nothing wrong with a distraction, though...conversational
misdirection of sorts...and yes, he was curious about Gravas.

"So he's Greek this go-round, is he? And, perhaps a bit...off?"

"It seems," Will said slowly, "that Theo feels he must test Smith's
boyfriends for some sort of coolness factor, and that you passed. They
ended amicably, and Will does consider his opinion. But - this
go-round?" Jack watched the penny drop, watched Will blink. "Groves!"
Blinked again. "It fits, you know. He's a policeman near where we live,
under Gillette. Jill, rather." Will took his eyes off the road for just
a second to consider Jack, then turned back. "I've just realized
something. I recall...he always admired you, in our lifetimes."

"That I knew - he said as much to me a time or two, once with gratifying
regret before I was to hang, though it would've been more gratifying if
he'd brought a knife for me bonds or some such."

"And, well, look at him now. Just a bit off-center, as you say, and if
you say it, then more than a bit to most. A good swordsman, as well,
though I'm better." Candid whelp. "He's become much like you, longings
in his old life made fact in the new."

*Insightful* whelp.

"And I fell for it," Will said, almost bitterly.

Self-recriminating whelp, too, for all that Jack did to convince him
guilt was just bad for the digestion. "Ah, me William, sounds like ye
didn't fall for it long, and anyway, ye couldn't have known what ye were
truly waitin' for. Nor, I'll add, did Byrd know - or did ye think I was
a monk?"

A smile. Better. "I thought perhaps you had been, but not this time
around."

"Not a monk, per se, and I never am going to live that one down, am I?"

"Well, for that, you would have to stop telling the story, would you
not?"

"Ye may have a point there." Oh, the storm was following them,
overtaking them, and Jack was beginning to feel the tapping of the rain
against his skin, right through the metal roof and glass windshield. He
closed his eyes, took a breath. Soon, it'd have to be soon, and it would
be. Almost there...

"Pull over. Now!"

Will was still trained to him, trained as any sailor who knew that
disobeying the captain in a storm or battle could mean death for all. He
pulled off, very quickly but without skidding, to a graveled wide spot
by the road.

"Jack?"

The rain was pounding, music he could hear and needed to feel. He got
out of the car, stood, came around. Throwing open Will's door, he
grabbed the lad by an arm and pulled him out, watching the water
saturate what little had managed to dry. Then he took Will's wrist and
led him down a path to the beach. Will did not resist, and Jack's glad
suspicions were confirmed when they were face to face again. The lust in
those eyes...

"You look..." Will raised a hand to run along a dripping, beaded braid.

"Aye?"

"Like part of the storm." Will lifted off Jack's hat and they were equal
before the downpour. Deep kiss tasting of rainwater and Will and rum and
beer and Will...they were on Jack's jacket now, and on their knees. The
whelp was making off with his vest and shirt and telling him, "Stand."

"Stand what?"

"Stand, *Captain.*"

So he did, feeling the rain beat its tattoo across his shoulders, all
cool and cold where the wind touched, and then there came warmth. His
eyes shut and he heard the rush of rain on waves, felt Will, Will, rain
and Will around him warm and oh, so good...his legs shook and the other
man felt it, pulled away, bore him down.

The tips of his hair dripped against his chest as Will climbed him,
caressed him as his eyes opened again, drawing bits of his own early
pleasure out, stroking himself with it and making certain Jack saw. And
the rain kept falling, running along Will's shoulders, falling on Jack's
thighs. Will had his shirt on still, clinging *everywhere* and so
sinfully Jack had to approve. Clasping, clinging, wet Will was against
him as he took Jack's lips and explored with his hands. Eyes
frighteningly intent, channeling something wild, the same thing Jack
felt in his very bones now.

Wind, loud but not louder than the hushed thud of rain on sand,
multiplied a million-fold. Scent of the ocean surrounding them, and Will
pressing in without any control or technique, just a gasping pure need
that made Jack moan in his turn. Fast immediately, knowing that Jack
needed it thus now, or not knowing and beyond caring, Jack was beyond
caring which and appreciated both, raw power in the man, in him, and he
was far more helpless than he intended to fight it or use it...it used
him, used them both...it was a storm, after all, wasn't it? Turned into
it, rose to meet Will, crying out and the lad was as well...storm
breakers, torrents hitting again and again, through Will and focused
somewhere deep within him too...

Oh, god, gods and spirits all...need, force, screaming pleasure in his
veins...

"aah....AAAhhh....AAAAHH!"

"God...oh, oh God...ohh...nnh...AAHHH!"

Wind pulled the cries from their lips and whipped them away, but they
noticed the loss not much at all, moaning into each others' mouths as
the rain fell all around. Bodies quieted, slowly, and pulled more
tightly together as they did.

//...oh my...// A wondering murmur from Byrd within. //...what in Heaven
and Earth...//
//...both, I'm thinkin'...but just a storm, really. didn't expect it t'
take us so...not that we're complainin' but ye know I only intended t'
take the lad while attractively drenched...//
//...yeah, backfired, but somehow I really don't mind...//

Will's eyes unclouded, likely his own internal conversation at its end.

"What..." he began, gathered himself, began again. "Was
that...Halloween, do you think? Or something even more primal?"

"Little of both, perhaps, but I'd call it serin...savon...serapi..." He
blinked. "An unexpected bonus. Anyway, I think it may finally be time to
get out of the rain."

"Why?" Will asked, resting a damp head against Jack's shoulder.

"Ye do have a point there."

* * *

They did, eventually, manage to get up and drip their way back to the
car, Will nearly falling asleep at the wheel. Jack felt sleep...and
rum...stealing up on him too, and the trip back to his house came in
dreamlike snatches. Boots on a slick, wet driveway, moonlight glinting
off long, dripping leaves. Clothes pooling on the kitchen floor, towels
grabbed and dropped by the bed. The bed, and nothing beyond.

Next morning came upon Jack slowly, with the whistling of wind, loud
enough to be clearing the sky and leaving all clear, bright, and cold.
He wasn't cold, though, as his body was flush against Will's. He was,
instead, warm and languid, warm without and within. It was a well, whole
feeling that spread throughout his body, and it made him less unnerved
than he might otherwise have been when he realized he wasn't sure
exactly who he was just now.

Lying there, eyes shut, he searched himself *for* himself, and bits
seemed to sort, align themselves, into Byrd and Sparrow respectively.
The sweet feeling within him receded just a bit and he let it go with
regret, focusing on that which was Byrd, all of him drawing it to the
front and letting Sparrow settle back. They were still so very close,
though, so entwined, as he and Will were physically.

//...mmm...// came Sparrow's thought. //...this...is nice...// Sigh, as
Byrd felt the pirate use their proximity to give him the mental
equivalent of a caress.

//...weird...but nice...wonder what's up?...//

//...it's possible ye may know...I don't...I think it's you...relax and
let yerself find it...//

The pirate's urgings were almost an internal massage. Byrd drifted an
instant and caught the notion.

"Dia de los Muertos," he said aloud, and Will stirred. //...the Day of
the Dead. Spirits that return on Halloween night...become strong, stay
to visit the living world...//

//...spooky season not over, then?...//

//...not 'till the third...could be that's why we're so close now...you
were already here and part of me, but it affects us anyway...//

Will came awake then, and Jack saw tenseness in his frame and the set of
his eyes that belied the blissful smile on his face. He leaned in close
and whispered in Will's ear.

"Relax, but try to focus. Use me...I'm Byrd now, can you feel it? Pull
Smith forward, let Turner rest against him..." Will breathed deep and
his muscles unlocked. He lay there for several minutes, and then pulled
himself up a little to recline on stacked pillows.

"Whoa..." Will said. "This...that was...we felt *good,* but we knew we
were getting lost in each other, and...thanks."

"De nada. By the by, we think it's still the time of year getting to us.
Today, and tomorrow for some, is the Day of the Dead."

"Dia de los Muertos," Will replied. "Right. Yeah, makes as much sense as
anything." Shivered. "Ooh. My feet are cold."

"Going to be chilly today after the storm. I'll go get the fireplace
going."

"Good plan."

"Squeak!" agreed Hector, untwisting from the bed-frame, and crawling up
on Jack's shoulder once he'd shrugged on a robe. Humming "A Pirate's
Life for Me," Jack wandered out into the living room, igniting the
fireplace, and moving to the windows. Letting in the filtered sunlight,
he blinked twice, and then screamed like a girl.

Which is pretty much what one does when a skeletal face is peering in
one's window.

* * *
CONTINUED IN TAXES 5B:
DAY OF THE DEAD
* * *
TMF