Title: Weigh Anchor
Author: SkyFire

Rating: PG
Summary: Will and Jack stole the Interceptor and took off. That night, they stopped and dropped
anchor to sleep for a few hours. This takes place the next morning. Will proves that he really
*hasn't* been aboard ships much... ;o)

Author's Note: Just a short little snippet that popped into my head. First step into PotC-fic
writing. Look out, world. _

Weigh Anchor
by SkyFire

"Weigh anchor!" came the pirate's order from where he stood at the ship's wheel. He heard a few
soft, rhythmic grunts from the bow, where his reluctant shipmate hauled up the anchor.

Sparrow expected the young blacksmith to join him shortly for another day's lessoning in what
had to be done to keep the ship on course and in reasonable working order.

Minutes passed. Still, Turner failed to appear.

Five minutes later and starting to get a bit concerned, Jack tied the wheel, then went in search
of his missing companion.

Found him, at last, sitting with his back to the outside railing, legs straight out before him,
his arms wrapped around the anchor that sat on his lap, his face a near-sunburnt shade of crimson.

"What, pray tell, are ye doin' wi' th' anchor, luv?" Jack asked carefully, a slight smirk on his
face, head cocked inquiringly to one side.

"Jack!" Will exclaimed. He heaved against the anchor, to no avail; the angle was poor, and he
hadn't the necessary leverage. The anchor refused to budge. "Get this thing off me!"

"All in good time," came the amused reply. "Answer me question first."

"Jaaack!" Turner complained. Then, seeing that whining wasn't helping, he tried another tactic.
"Please, Jack? I'm losing all feeling in my... uh... that is... I--"

The smirk widened, the dark eyes glittered with barely-held-back mirth. "Can't 'ave that, now
can we?" he said simply. Going over to the distressed smith, he managed to lift the anchor
slightly, set it down on the deck beside them. That done, he helped Turner to stand on semi-numb
legs, brushed him off briskly. "Now then, lad. Tell ol' Jack what ye were doin' t' get yerself
in 'at fix?"

Will glared. "I was doing exactly what you told me to-- weighing the anchor. I pulled it up out
of the water, then lifted it to gauge its weight. But it was too heavy and I... Jack? Jack, why
are you laughing...?"

The pirate in question seemed to be in imminent danger of asphyxiation, therefore saving
Norrington the trouble of tracking him down, capturing him, and stringing him up. Fallen onto
his rump on the deck, *Captain* Jack Sparrow was doubled over with laughter, tanned face reddened,
tears streaming helplessly down his cheeks, smearing kohl in their wake.

"What?!" Will demanded at last.

"Will, me lad, for a body as grew up i' a port town, ye don' know much 'bout sailin'!" Jack
chortled. "Weighin' th' anchor, indeed!"

Arms folded across his chest, William glared at his still-laughing companion. "All right, then,"
he said at last through gritted teeth. "Next time, *I'll* steer, and *you* can weigh the anchor!"

Still shaking with uncontrollable fits of laughter, it was several long minutes before Jack could
stand enough to go look for Will so that he could explain to the landlubber the difference
between 'weigh anchor' and 'weigh the anchor'.

January 31/04

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