a pirate's life...

Portsparrow was a city caught in a time where men and women still wore stiff wigs, clothes and faces. The dresses had large umbrella skirts and men of social standing were recognizable by the size of their wig and sword. It was all very interesting to gawk at until John and his team noticed the large ship drifting away from a dock, it's huge sails gently being pushed by the winds.

John actually stopped to stare and whistle, at which Rodney felt compelled to say, “Ancient flying machines trump wooden boats, Colonel.”

Some of the less important looking locals were kind enough to point out spots of interest, intrigued by the non-Wraith strangers that had stepped out of the Stargate.

It was in the tavern, The Black Pearl, where they spoke of a great man who came to the city years ago in a bright flash of light, a god to his people. He was a noble man. A brave man. A man of honor.

“A man called Jack Sparrow,” the owner of the tavern said in hushed tones, pushing forward a bottle of rum.

Rodney was frowning at his bottle of rum, wiping it before putting it to his mouth as Ronon drank it down in one go and Teyla took a swig.

John looked at his rum. “You don't have anything else? A beer maybe?”

A gasp went up in the tavern and everyone stared at John.

He smiled and lifted his bottle to his lips. “Rum it is then.”

Unfortunately, the drinks couldn't be enjoyed for too long as four strangers without wigs or stiff dresses were easily noticed and quickly arrested, taken to the governor and accused of many things (indecent showing of midriff, indecently shaped hair, concealed weapons as well as prominently displayed ones, mocking the law, mocking the city, mocking the rum, mocking the governor and etc.).

The time between their arrival in Portsparrow and a prison cell was the quickest on record.

In the prison cell, while Teyla contemplated her midriff, Rodney pointed out the prison cell was a mockery of prison cells and mocked it for that reason, John wondered what was so indecent about his hair and Ronon unconcealed a very well concealed weapon the guards had missed on their frisk.

Their escape went to plan. Ronon cut the ropes, picked the locks and stabbed a guard in the back of his knee. Teyla distracted another guard with her midriff, followed by an elbow to the head. John distracted another guard with his hair, before punching him to the ground and having Rodney mock him while looking very smug.

As they ran from the prison, Rodney conceded that maybe looks did come in handy on occasion if it meant getting to live another day.

“On the other hand,” he added, “if all you ever got were compliments, then we'd just be sitting around giving each other manicures in every prison cell we visited.”

“I am finding Rodney extremely sexy these days,” Teyla said with a wicked smile when he was out of earshot.

John scowled. “I liked you way better before you started hanging out with Earth people.”

They were almost near the gate when they heard distant shouts, the governor's guards in pursuit. A detour from their path led them away towards deep woodland. What they didn't expect to find within it was a red rock wall covered by vines and branches, a statue carved within the wall.

The cool breeze shook the branches as the team stepped near and looked at the figure of the sleeping man, peaceful and noble looking. The shouts in the distance seemed to fade, the sky darkening above them.

A loud shot made Rodney, Teyla and John jump and turn around, ready to fire their weapons and just in time to see a rabbit scurry away, Ronon's gun aimed at where it had been.

“What the hell was that?” John demanded.

“I don't like them,” Ronon said. “They look weird.”

“So do half of the people in my department. You're going to shoot them too?” Rodney asked. “Because you'd really be helping me out there.”

Ronon smirked as Teyla smiled with a shake of the head and Rodney gave a pleased smile. John rolled his eyes at the three and turned back to the statue, noticing the writing just peeking above some shrubbery, under the feet of the man on the wall.

“What does that say?” John said, nudging the leaves away with the tip of his P90.

Rodney came to John's side, tilting his head and frowning. “I can't make it out. Teyla?”

“I believe it says it is the resting place of Jack Sparrow,” Teyla said, squinting at the faded lettering.

“Huh. Must be his tomb or something,” Rodney said.

“What's this?” John asked, reaching for a strange metal fixture poking out of the wall.

“Don't touch it!” Rodney snapped as John totally completely absolutely touched it.

The wall started to shake and everyone stepped back, John grimacing. “Okay, maybe I shouldn't have touched that.”

“You think so? Because I'm thinking maybe you should go around poking strange alien things more,” Rodney said with a gulp as the wall shook.

John narrowed his eyes at Rodney as the other man grabbed Ronon's sleeve's, pulling him to stand in front, which Ronon willing did, pointing his gun at the stone wall.

John shook his head. “What? You're going to shoot the wall?”

Ronon raised an eyebrow. “Got a better idea?”

John made a face. “No.”

They all fell into line, guns aimed at the rumbling wall.

The rumbling extended beyond the wall, reaching into the ground. John and his team moved out of their line, turning their backs against each other as they pointed their weapons down at the shaking ground. Birds flew out of the trees and the shouts in the distance quietened before getting louder for a moment and then retreating altogether.

“Colonel, next time I tell you-” Rodney started.

“We'll talk about it later!” John snapped.

“If there is a later,” Teyla supplied.

“There's always a later,” Ronon said. “We just might not be around to see it.”

Everyone turned to scowl at Ronon who just shrugged.

The ground suddenly stopped shaking and the wall flashed a bright white. Everything became still.

John and his team turned to stare at the wall, while he frowned. “Huh.”

Rodney waggled his finger at the wall. “Wasn't there a-?”

“The carving is missing,” Teyla said as Ronon poked the wall with his gun.

“That was weird,” John said.

“What happen to it?” Rodney asked.

“Maybe it disintegrated,” Ronon offered.

“That's stupid,” Rodney said.

“You're stupid,” Ronon retaliated.

“Oh, that's really mature,” Rodney said. “Colonel? Ronon just called me stupid.”

“Ronon,” John warned.

“He started it,” Ronon said.

“I don't care, both of you can it,” John said.

“Colonel, I think we should leave before the locals return,” Teyla suggested.

“I think you're right. Let's get out of here,” John said, turning his back on the wall.

All four stopped when they turned around. A very naked man was lying on the ground, spreadeagled and flat on his face, groaning a little. Rodney quickly put his hand in front of Teyla's eyes, only to have it shoved aside.

“Okay,” John said. “Naked guy.”

Rodney's head was snapping back and forth between the wall and the naked man. “You must have activated some device that released him from the tomb.”

“So, it's not a tomb?” Ronon asked..

“Maybe. He must have been in stasis or something. What if he's-?”

“No,” John said.

“He could be the first real Ancient we've met that might not want to sleep with you and ruin our chances of learning something new,” Rodney insisted.

John made a face. “So, what? We take him back to Atlantis?”

“Okay, let me put it to you a way you'll understand. Naked man, possible key to Ancient technologies. Taking naked man home, good idea.”

Ronon smirked and John scowled at him.

“Fine. Let's grab him. Ronon, use your coat to cover him up.”

This time Ronon made a face. “He's naked.”

“Do you have a pinched nerve or something?” Rodney asked. “Yes, he's naked. That's why he needs your coat.”

Ronon glared but relinquished his coat, shoving it into John's waiting hand.

John managed to get the coat around the naked guy with Teyla's help, pulling the man to his feet before Ronon slung him over his shoulder.

John nodded. “Okay. Let's take the naked guy home.”

The first thing Jack noticed was that the world was black, pitch black. When he waved his hands in front of him, he couldn't even make out their shapes.

“What's he doing?” An intrigued, maybe confused voice.

“He's waving his hands about.” A voice that was so laconic that it might have been lying down.

“Why is he doing that?” Ah, a woman.

“You're asking me?” A very...big voice.

“Don't you four have somewhere better to be?” A Scot?

“No,” said the other four voices.

Jack opened an eye. The sudden bright light explained the previous darkness. The four voices were looking at him. Jack opened another eye and saw a fifth person looming over him.

“Nyargh!” Jack jerked away from the fuzzy faced man.

“Don't be frightened. You're all right,” the fuzzy Scot said.

Jack looked down at himself, lying under covers in white clothes, without gun or rum. “That's easy for you to say. I'm the one without a hat.”

Everyone gasped. Well, everyone except for the woman who was smiling at him and the large fellow with interesting hair who was scowling at him.

“He's British!” the blue-eyed man exclaimed.

“How the hell is that even possible?” the green-eyed one asked.

Jack frowned and looked at the Scot, beckoning him close. “What year is it?”

“Two thousand and six,” the Scot said slowly.

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “That must have been some strong rum.”

“What's your name?” the Scot asked.

“Smith,” Jack replied. “Captain John Smith.”

“You are not Jack Sparrow, then?” the woman's midriff asked, without ever moving a muscle.

Jack stared at the midriff. “Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service.”

“Wait, you're Jack Sparrow?” the green-eyed one asked.

Jack smiled at her too. “The one and only, love, the one and only.”

The green-eyed one frowned at the blue-eyed man.

“I'm bored,” the one with all the hair said with a sigh. “I'm getting some food.”

“Oh, hey, could you bring me back something?” the blue-eyed one asked him.

“Anything with chocolate, right?”

The blue-eyed one smiled happily.

Jack sighed. “You'll have to tell me your names. The inner monologue's getting very crowded I can tell you,” he said.

“I am Teyla,” Teyla said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Jack looked up from her midriff. “Of course you are.”

“Uh, Rodney McKay. Scientist. Doctor. Physicist. Friend of all Ancients,” Rodney said with a small wave.

“John Sheppard,” the green-eyed one said.

“John? Funny name for a girl, isn't it?” Jack asked.

“I'm a man!” John snapped.

Jack squinted. “Oh. Sorry. But if it makes you feel better, you're very pretty, No, really, I could feel myself turning. You might want to invest in a mustache though.”

“I'm Carson Beckett,” the man closest said. “And once you've got a good meal in you, you should be all right to leave the infirmary.”

“That's good to know,” Jack said, turning to Teyla. “Because I'm quite the opposite of infirm. Very firm I think you'll find, my love.”

Teyla covered her mouth and laughed.

John pointed at her with his mouth wide open and exclaimed to Rodney, “Did you see that? She just giggled.”

“Oh my god. It's a male Chaya,” Rodney said. “You should probably lock yourself in your quarters.”

John glared and Jack wished he wouldn't because he might have turned just little bit more.

“I see our guest is awake and alert,” a tall and slim woman said as she joined the group.

“A little too alert for my liking,” Jack said, not used to so much lucidity.

“I'm Elizabeth Weir, you are?” the woman asked, narrowing her eyes at Jack, but drifting towards his other side anyway.

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” Jack said. “Fighter. Sailor. Lover. Connoisseur of fine wines and rum products. Mostly rum.”

Elizabeth smiled a lovely smile like all Elizabeths smiled. “A captain of what exactly?”

“The Black Pearl, may she rest in peace, within all her pieces,” Jack said.

“Perhaps you can tell us more of this Black Pearl over dinner,” Teyla said, looking to Elizabeth for approval. Hello, Jack thought. Things looked promising.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I'd love to hear more.”

“I cannot refuse the request of a lovely lady,” Jack said and looked at Teyla again. “Or two.”

Elizabeth covered her mouth and laughed coyly, John muttering something in the background.

Much to John's disapproval, Teyla and Elizabeth had taken Jack to the mess. Teyla had even managed to get Jack some Athosian clothes that consisted of tight pants, loose shirt and tailored jacket. The man looked more like a pirate and less like a warrior.

“Why are we spying on Jack Sparrow?” Rodney asked from behind the pillar both he and John were hiding behind.

“Because I don't trust him,” John said, watching how most of the women of the base were crowded around the table on which Jack sat, one foot on a chair as he told many tales.

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that he called you a girl?”

“No,” John protested. “It has to do with the fact that he fell out of a wall and now all the women are falling all over him.”

“Magic.”

Both John and Rodney jumped, only to find Ronon eating a chocolate muffin, holding one out to Rodney.

John scowled and Rodney happily accepted his muffin. “What do you mean magic?”

“Look at them all. They're all under some kind of spell. It's like he's got a hold on them,” Ronon said, leaning on the balcony railing. “And not just the women.”

John and Rodney looked down below. Ronon was right. Some men had drifted towards Jack too and against his will, John was beginning to feel the seeds of intrigue growing within him.

“You're right,” John said. “I wonder how long before everyone's under his spell.”

“I like his hair,” Ronon said absently.

Rodney pointed back at Ronon. “Well, looks like we lost another one.”

By the next night, everyone seemed to be in Jack's thrall. Apparently, one of the largest rooms with the best view of the sea had been cleared out and furnished for Jack Sparrow.

John was on his way there, Rodney's voice in his ear piece. “He's been asking questions all day, but not telling anyone anything and thanks to the easily influenced idiots of my department, apparently he knows a lot now.”

“How much is a lot?”

“Way too much for a guy who keeps asking where we keep all the rum,” Rodney said.

John reached the apartment only to find Ronon and Lorne guarding it. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We're guarding the captain's quarters,” Lorne said.

“Captain? Captain of what?”

“You calling him a liar, Sheppard?” Ronon asked, taking a threatening step forward.

John took a step back. “No. But you might want to know there's a whole bunch of people in the mess calling him all kinds of stuff.”

Lorne looked at Ronon with utmost seriousness. “Let's go.”

John watched them race off. “Idiots.”

He palmed the door open and walked into a room decorated like a harem with rich colored rugs and drapes and silky cushions. It said a lot about the people that had helped decorate it.

To John's dismay, Jack was lying back against some cushions, Teyla and Elizabeth either side of him, hands stroking down his chest, sometimes catching each other's fingers, aiming sultry and dark gazes at each other.

John felt sick. A little horny too.

Jack sat up. “John Sheppard. Glad you could come.” He looked back at Teyla and Elizabeth. “Don't start without me now, ladies.”

John watched Jack get up, tilting a little to the side and obstructing John's view of Teyla and Elizabeth totally getting started without Jack.

Jack had a bottle in his hand, which he offered to John. “Rum?”

“No thanks,” John said. “I don't like rum.”

“Well, I won't hold it against you,” Jack said, taking a swig. “Now, I sense that there are issues between us, festering like great big festering things. Why don't we have it out in the open? A little bit of civilized conversing between men folk.”

John pulled his gun on Jack. “Why don't you just tell me what I want to know?”

Jack swayed a little, both his eyes moving to towards the barrel of the gun. A gasp sounded behind him and both he and John stared at each other, not daring to look at whatever Elizabeth and Teyla were up to.

“Fine,” Jack said. “I'll tell you what you want to know and then we can both take a looksy at what's happening behind me.”

“I'll give you a clue,” John said. “They started without you.”

Jack took another swig of his drink. “Well, it's only fair.”

“Who are you? Where are you from? What the hell happened back at that wall?”

“Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl. From here, there and mostly everywhere no one else wants to go to. There was a jolly old sea romp, you see, and Jack Sparrow's time had come. Faced it like a hero too, only no one was around to see it, sadly. Next thing I know I'd gone and...ascended.”

John frowned. “You're an Ancient?”

“You wouldn't know, would you? I have a very strict beauty regime,” Jack said. “I was dying and then there was a tunnel of light and then I was a cloud.”

“And?”

“Well, I had nowhere to put my sword,” Jack said. Then he leaned in and whispered. “Most importantly? No Rum. After a few hundred years, it gets to you.”

John narrowed his eyes. “They threw you out.”

“Well, I wouldn't say threw. It was more like being rolled out and down a very steep hill. And then, suddenly I had all these people calling me a god and I thought it would be very rude of me to disagree.”

“So you let them believe it,” John said. “Probably had them under your spell. What's the deal with that anyway?”

“Side effect. The others couldn't fix it,” Jack said with a smile. “And apparently, it doesn't seem to work on you.”

John shifted, gulping, beginning to feel a strange buzz. “Damn right it doesn't.”

“Oh!”

Both men spun about to look at the bed, but Teyla and Elizabeth were hidden under the sheets, only sounds emanating from beneath.

Jack crept forward, reaching for a corner of one of the sheets.

“Hey!” John snapped.

Jack drew his hand back. “Just want to make sure they're safe.”

“I'm sure they're taking precautions,” John said flatly. “I'm not finished with you. What's with all the questions you're going around asking everyone?”

“If you'd just woken up and someone had told you that you were in Atlantis, I take it you wouldn't investigate the matter any further,” Jack asked, sauntering close to John, eyes wide and oddly hypnotizing. “You wouldn't want a little poke? A little prod. A taste? A touch? A little lick?”

John gulped, his grip on the gun loosening a little, something softening his brain. “What were we talking about?”

Jack grinned, something that was alluring and terribly frightening. “As side effects go, it's a nice one, but also why the others decided to lock Captain Jack Sparrow up,” he said, his warm hand closing around John's and simply pulling the gun away. “You know, you remind me of someone.”

John felt himself heat all over, his eyes fixed on Jack. “I do?”

“Sturdy lass, she was. Almost as pretty as you.”

John frowned and opened his mouth to protest, only to receive a heated rum tasting kiss. His arms lifted of their own accord, wrapping themselves around the sinewy body, his mouth opening gratefully to accept more kisses and then he was falling, falling, falling.

When he awoke, he was lying on the bed, still dressed, though his T-shirt had been pulled out of his pants and he felt very rumpled. Either side of him, Elizabeth and Teyla also looked completely knocked out.

John slowly got up, swaying and almost falling, wondering if the side effect everyone felt had anything to do with Jack's capacity to indulge in rum and still not fall over. Much.

John managed to make it to the corridor, holding a hand to his head and running into Rodney.

“What the hell happened? I've been trying to call you...are you okay?” Rodney asked, hand on John's arm.

John shook his head hard to clear the fuzziness. “He's gone. Sparrow.”

“Forget him,” Rodney said. “We'll deal with him later. Hell just broke loose in the mess. Everyone's beating the crap out of everyone else. It's like a drunken brawl.”

“Makes sense,” John said, stumbling along at Rodney's side. “We have to find Sparrow. He's dangerous. The Ancients ascended him when he was dying, back on Earth. Then they kicked him out.”

Rodney was nodding. “And the reason everyone's falling at his feet?”

“He says it's a side effect. The reason he was in the wall.”

“It's not a tomb. It's a prison,” Rodney said.

“Exactly,” John said, stepping into the transporter.

“I've been talking to people, finding out exactly what Sparrow's been asking questions about,” Rodney said.

“Yeah?” John asked. “Anything?”

“Mostly about how we got here, about Earth, the Wraith. Also, he's been talking to some of the Athosians.”

John frowned. “What about?”

Rodney made a face. “I have no idea. Could be anything.”

“Great. Potentially crazy ancient guy roaming around the city,” John said.

“But he was thrown out of the glow club, wasn't he?” Rodney asked.

“Sure, if you're willing to believe him,” John said as the doors to the transporter opened and they stepped into the mess.

John could already see Ronon in the midst of the brawl, taking on four guys at the same time and Lorne smacking a bottle of rum over someone's head.

“Colonel Sheppard, what the hell is going on here?”

John and Rodney turned to see Colonel Caldwell approaching.

“Colonel,” John said with a frown. “You weren't due back for another day.”

“No, Colonel Sheppard,” Caldwell said with his usual unimpressed tone. “Atlantis has been out of touch for a whole day. Somebody want to tell me what this all about?”

They all stepped aside as two men rushed past them, embroiled in a struggle with each other.

“Wait,” John said, pointing at Caldwell. “The Daedalus is back.”

Caldwell gave another look of 'how are you still alive?'.

John rushed back towards the transporter. “Rodney, explain to the colonel. Sir? Tell the crew of the Daedalus to remain alert.”

“What?” Caldwell asked.

John gave Caldwell a grim look. “I think someone might try and steal the ship.”

John held Ronon's gun close as he ran through the corridor, relieved that everyone in the mess didn't have access to any weapons. Bruises healed faster than gunshot wounds.

It was as he was about run up some stairs that he noticed a muffled sound. John changed direction and followed the sound until he came into a storage room filled with people sitting on the floor, gagged and bound. The crew of the Daedalus.

John tilted his head at them and stared. Then he ran twice as fast, tapping his ear piece and shouting, “Rodney, we've got a problem.”

“You're telling me? Everyone's started singing pirate songs here,” Rodney said, the sound of bad singing behind him.

“Rodney, shut up a second. Is there any way we can stop the Daedalus from-”

Something flew past John, pushing out his ear piece and nicking his ear. John skidded to a stop with a little jump, hissing at the sharp pain. He covered his ear with his hand, feeling warm stickiness.

“Oops,” Jack said.

John began to turn, but was stopped by a bullet hitting a nearby wall.

“Without the gun, mate,” Jack said. “Without the gun.”

John carefully crouched down enough to put the gun on the floor, before getting up with his hands in the air. “You really know how to make a girl feel special,” John said.

Jack grinned, gun aimed at John. “Nothing personal, you understand. It's just nice to be able to walk around again. Even though being sober takes off the shine a little.”

John fidgeted, moving his head a little as blood trickled down his neck.

“Of course, has it's advantages too,” Jack said.

John shook his head again, feeling that same fuzziness as before beginning to descend. He tried to blink it away as Jack neared. As his hand began to fall to his sides. Jack backed him up against a wall and John felt Jack pulling a knife out from nearby, the one that had gone flying past his ear.

John tried to take a breath, to wake himself up. “What are you doing?”

“You know what I'm doing,” Jack said quietly, each word like a long thought being mulled over.

“Why? You don't have to.”

A big grin spread slowly across Jack's face as he murmured, “Yo-ho-ho. A pirate's life for me. Savvy?”

John Sheppard frowned, blinking slowly as Jack Sparrow stared right back before pillaging John's mouth, taking a bite of lips and then stepping away with a bow, simultaneously picking up Ronon's gun. “We'll meet again, I'm quite sure.”

And away he went into the dark corridor as John stood there, mouth slightly open, squeezing his eyes shut and open to remember how to be awake.

“Colonel,” Rodney came running, almost skidding to a stop. “What happened? You got cut off.”

John touched his bloody ear. “Yeah. I did.”

“What the hell happened?” Rodney demanded when he saw the blood.

John would have answered if it wasn't for the fact that Rodney had a sword in his hand. “Why do you have a sword?”

Rodney looked down at it. “Oh, apparently someone let it slip they had a collection of authentic Athosian swords from, I dunno, days of yore or something and Sparrow asked to see them.”

“Days of yore?”

“Or something,” Rodney said with a shrug. “I took this off one of his little groupies before he put out someone's eye with it.”

John looked at the sword and removed it from Rodney's hand, watching the light glint off the blade. He turned away from Rodney.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going to stop him from taking the Daedalus,” John said.

“What? With a sword?”

“He's a pirate,” John said.

Rodney frowned. “What? What?”

John turned and ran as fast as he could until he reached the docking bay. The doors slid open and John could see Jack gazing at the bright entrance of the ship, his silhouette dark against it, gun in one hand, sword hanging in the other.

“You can't take it, Jack. It's not yours,” John said.

Jack turned slowly. “Pirate, mate. It's why I have to take it. It's the rule. ”

John arched an eyebrow.

“Well, more of a guideline really.”

John held out the sword in his hand. “How about winner takes all?”

Jack almost pouted at John before pointing Ronon's gun at him.

“Come on, Jack, This how you really want it to go?” John asked.

Jack looked at the gun in his hand, sighed and threw it over his shoulder. “And that would be another downside of being sober.”

John watched as Jack advanced, whipping the sword forward. John blocked for the most part, just to begin with, just to avoid having a limb sliced off, watching Jack's generous steps into his space, his surprisingly coordinated manner of fighting.

John took a step back, a bad mistake as he tripped over a pipe, landed on his back and blocked another attack, rolling away, his hand finding a wet puddle. John managed to stumble to his feet, blindly bringing his sword up and hearing it hit Jack's sword.

He then smashed the handle of his sword in Jack's face, making him stumble back. He shook his head and frowned at John. “That's called just cheating, mate.”

“It's a pirate thing,” John said and lunged forward, making Jack jump back, bringing his sword down to block the point of John's sword.

They fought across the bay, sliding across the floor, throwing each other into supplies and other crates. Clashing swords until sparks began to fly, scraping metal against metal until they were inches apart and looking into each other's eyes, swords crossed between them.

Then Jack pushed John away hard, a serious set to his mouth as he launched another attack. “Exactly why do you know how to handle a sword?”

John jumped aside, pushing away Jack's blade with his sword. “There was a girl in school. Liked guys with swords. So I took up fencing.”

“Really? It's why I became a pirate,” Jack said, making John stumble backwards, backhanding him to the floor with his sword hand, sweeping his sword down in an arc and whipping John's sword up into the air, catching it with his free hand.

John immediately tried to sit up, stopped by the sharp blade tip at his throat. He looked up at Jack who was breathing hard. “Well?”

“Well,” Jack said. “I expect that if I should leave you here, you'll follow me into my ship and we should have to do this little dance all over again.”

“I expect so.”

Jack nodded. “In that case...” he threw John's sword aside and held out his hand, pulling John to his feet when it was accepted.

John frowned. “You're not taking it?”

“Oh, I'm taking it, mate,” Jack said with a grin. “I'm just making sure you're not coming after me.”

John had a second to frown before Jack's hand, fisted around his sword handle, came crashing into the side of John's head. After that, there was darkness and someone whistling a pirate song.

“A pirate...stole my ship,” Caldwell was saying as John lay on the infirmary bed, watching him through slitted eyes. “A pirate...from Earth.”

“That's petty much it, Sir,” John mumbled, holding a pad to his bleeding forehead.

“How does a pirate, from Earth, from hundreds of years ago, know how to fly my ship, Colonel?” Caldwell asked.

John wondered if he could say 'I don't feel too good, leave me alone'. “The Ancients ascended him. We think that might have left him a little smarter than your average, hundreds of years old pirate.”

Caldwell pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I need a drink.”

“Oh, there's rum in the mess,” Rodney said walking into the infirmary and going to John's side.

Caldwell sighed and left.

Rodney pulled up a chair and sat down. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks, Rodney.”

“Oh, don't worry. Teyla and Elizabeth don't look any better. Ronon's drunk and still singing and thanks to practically living in the infirmary, I don't think Carson was affected by our guest's presence at all.”

John watched Rodney. “What about you?”

“Well, Carson has a theory. He thinks that anyone even slightly impressed by our friend was susceptible to his pirate voodoo,” Rodney said.

“And you weren't?”

“Well, I'm not impressed by anything.”

“Because...you're a robot?”

“Because...I'm a genius,” Rodney said, slowly enunciating.

“Which means you're not susceptible to anything.”

“Barring food substances and cheap science-fiction.”

John thought about it. “Can you get me something to eat?”

Rodney frowned. “Do I look like a maid?”

John shrugged. “I don't feel so good.”

Rodney got up and nodded. “I'll get you something to drink too.”

He gave John a pat on the arm and quickly left as John smiled. Even geniuses were susceptible to something.

Jack Sparrow beamed down into a familiar patch of woodland, though it had changed in places, grown thicker. Still, he'd always know this place. He'd always know the hidden path and the large wall where he was imprisoned.

He stepped up to it and gave the empty spot a long look before reaching out towards the metal protrusion by its side, pulling on it until it came away in his hand.

He opened the compass and watched it spin, wondering what lay in the place it was pointing him towards.

In the blink of an eye he returned to the bridge of his ship, in time to see a glowing light appear, shaping into a smiling woman.

Jack smiled back. “Oma, love. Long time.”

Oma smiled serenely, before stepping up to Jack and slapping him hard enough to spin his head around.

Jack readjusted his jaw. “I probably deserved that.”

“The others know you are free. They are not pleased,” Oma said.

Jack opened his palm out flat and watched a bottle of rum materialize. “That is a matter of great concern to me, I'm sure.”

“They will be able to find you. They can feel you.”

“Saucy,” Jack said. “You tell them Captain Jack Sparrow says to drop by anytime and have a little feel.”

Oma rolled her eyes and disappeared with a mutter of, “Pirates.”

Jack sat down in the captain's chair and smiled, taking a swig of his rum and listening as the Daedalus continued it's slow twisting and grinding around him, as it was shaped into a new pearl.

- the end -