Well... it took me long enough to get this thing finished, and its been almost two years since this thing started. Thank you to all my reviewers and readers who were with me on this crazy ride, thank you for your patience with my slow updates, and lazy writing.

You guys rock, and thanks for everything!

"Bloody hell," I muttered, tiptoeing as well as I could, glancing over my shoulder constantly, expecting a red coat any second.

"Relax, luv," Jack's voice hissed at me from up above, and I rolled my eyes, slipping after him. It was dark in the alley, and quiet, and all I could do was hope that no one would hear either of us. Because even Commodore Norrington couldn't keep the two of us from the noose forever.

Finally, Jack's hand reached out and seized mine, and he squeezed comfortingly. "We're here," he hissed, and opened a door, spilling sudden light out into the alleyway. Darting quickly inside, I was suddenly engulfed in a hug.


Looking down, I found myself looking at a head of pale blonde hair, and grinned at my best friend - my sister. "Hey Christine. Haven't been called that in a very long time."

"We like calling her the Hellcat these days," Jack smirked, walking across the room to clasp the hand of a certain blacksmith, and tip his hat with a little smirk at a powder-wigged gentleman. "Will, and Edward. How are ye doing, gentlemen?"

"Jack," Will smiled, reaching forward to clap the pirate on the back, hugging him briefly. "Wonderful."

"And the Commodore?" Jack asked, grinning.

"Well," Norrington nodded stiffly, nearly jumping as a small child suddenly ran into the room and into his legs, clinging to his pants. "Melissa, what are you doing out of bed?"

"Melissa?" I repeated, glancing away from Christine to see the Commodore lifting a small blonde girl onto his hip. "Oh my goodness..." my eyes widened. "She looks... she looks like a little you, Christine!"

"She should," Christine beamed, walking over to the Commodore, and smoothing the girl's hair. "She is my daughter."

"No way!" I gasped, then looked around, eyes widening. "You married the Commodore!"

"You married the pirate," Norrington pointed out. "I don't see how this is any different."

"Oh Christine, I am so happy for you!" I squealed, hugging her tightly, then leaning back, eyes wide. "And you're expecting another, aren't you!"

Elizabeth came into the room at that moment, carrying a small, swaddled bundle in her arms. "You're one to talk, Miss Morgan."

"Elizabeth!" I beamed, stepping forward to half hug her, mindful of the sleeping child she held. He couldn't have been older than three months. "So good to see you! What is the little one's name?"

"James," Elizabeth smiled, then reached her own spare hand forward, laying a gentle hand on my own rounded stomach. "And yours?"

"William," Jack said, waving a hand in a little rotating pattern, feet up on the table already, a bottle procured from somewhere. "Or Mary. I like Mary, for a little girl."

"But he won't be Mary, because this is a boy," I laughed, hands on my stomach. "I can tell. Women know these things."

"So they do," Christine laughed. "I do think Melissa is about to have a brother as well. I was thinking of naming his Darren. What do you think?"

"After your nephew?" I asked, smiling. "Christine, that would be wonderful."

"Ladies, please," Commodore Norrington said suddenly, motioning to the table. "Sit. Get yourselves off your feet."

"That would be nice," I admitted, and walked over to where Jack sat. Immediately, he swung his legs off the table, and wrapped his arms around my stomach when I sat directly on his lap. The others gave us off looks, gaping at this total lack of propriety, but I liked my Jack chair, and I rarely sat in chairs anymore without being in his lap. He was comfortable, and he'd been shockingly sweet since he found out I was going to be having the newest Sparrow.

The others sat as well - though they all sat in their own chairs - and before long, we were drinking, talking, and laughing. So many things had happened since I jumped off that wall, following the man of my dreams, and I needed to hear the rest of it.

"Alright," I said, retrieving the bag I'd brought along, and thunking the heavy book I had carried in it, my ink pot, and several quills on the table.

"Tell me everything."

Time to write.

The ending... yeah. It really leaves something to be desired, doesn't it? le sigh


Thank you all for the fun! You guys rock!