Everything good in Jack Sparrow's
life has come in threes.
Three times he's reclaimed the Black Pearl . From the
depths of the sea, from Barbossa, and from the kraken.
Three times he's cheated death, too. Not those simple times when
really, death rose as only a faint possibility, but when it
loomed, large and here and impossible to avoid. Yet he
did, and in his own inimitable way. By bluffing and talking and
confusing the hell out of everyone.
He stared now at the newest three in his life. This hopelessly
complicated, utterly impossible to resist three.
"Jack."
Will raised a hand from where it lay tangled in the blankets,
tangled in Elizabeth.
"Come back to bed."