Written for V, who wanted the OT3 of PotC. (This is more pre-OT3.)
 

One.

When Will kissed Elizabeth for the first time, a feeling of rightness blossomed up inside of him, filling him completely, warm and strong and true. He felt as if he could do the impossible: fly, sail all of the way around the world and still make it home in time for supper, dance a jig in the middle of the street, and proclaim his love from every single rooftop in Port Royal.

She fit perfectly in his arms, just like he’d known she would.

This is what it feels like to be complete, he thought as he kissed her, and when he pulled away to catch his breath, he said softly, roughly, "We are one."

Elizabeth’s eyes search his own for several moments after he said those words, probably judging the truth in them, and while she didn’t voice agreement and she didn’t nod, she did lean in to press their lips together again. 

That was the only response Will needed.

Time passed around them and as he held her, as he let himself get lost in what he could now call his own, only once did he let his thoughts stray to the now-escaped Captain Jack Sparrow. Only once did he wonder at the slight quickening of his heart that had occurred when Jack had complimented him right before he left, when Jack had said those two words: nice hat.
 

Two.

The sun had yet to make its way above the line of the horizon, but Will was standing by the bedroom window, staring out over the town below. In the early dawn light, he could see fishermen’s boats already out on the water, merchants moving around the streets, preparing their shops for the day. 

He really should be out there with them, he thought, but he couldn’t leave his house just yet. Not while the question he’d delayed asking Elizabeth for more than a week—since he’d walked unnoticed into their bedroom several days before, only to see her looking out the same window with an expression of faraway longing on her face—was sitting heavy on his tongue. 

Elizabeth was lying in the bed behind him, covered only by a sheet, and if Will turned around, he knew exactly what he’d see. She’d have her arms stretched out above her head and her hair would be spread across the pillow underneath her. She’d be glowing, stated-looking, and he knew that if he so much as glanced at her, she’d smile at him in that lazy way that she’d developed during their two months of marriage, the smile that was meant to entice him back into bed.

He didn’t turn around, though. Instead, he kept his eyes focused out the window, on the horizon, as he said, "What did Jack mean when he said that it never would have worked between the two of you?" 

Elizabeth’s choked silence stretched out like a calm ocean behind him, crystal clear and deadly, before finally, finally, far too many moments later, he heard the words that he’d been wanting, hoping, expecting to hear.

"Nothing," she said, her voice tight. "Jack didn’t mean anything by it."

He heard rustling, the sound of a body sitting up in the bed and finally, he let himself turn to look at her again. He saw bare shoulders, the thin cotton sheet pulled up over her breasts. She wasn’t smiling anymore. 

"You know Jack," she continued. "He was probably just trying to make my father and Commodore Norrington splutter some more."

Will might have believed her had she actually been looking directly at him as she spoke. Instead, though, she was looking out the window behind him, that expression of longing on her face once again. 

He walked over to the bed, sat down on the edge, and used one of his forge-rough fingers to turn her chin so that she was facing him. 

It was his turn to search her eyes. 

"So there’s nothing—there was never anything—between the two of you? Nothing happened while you were marooned on that island with him?"

She shook her head quickly enough, but there was also a slight flush of color in her cheeks, and her gaze dipped down to her sheet-covered lap. He closed his eyes, some unidentifiable pain welling up inside of him, but when he felt the soft touch of her hand against his cheek, they slipped back open.

She was smiling at him again, the same smile that he hadn’t let himself indulge in before.

"Why, Mr. Turner," she said, "I do believe you’re jealous of a pirate!" 

Her smile faded quickly, though, and suddenly she seemed to be studying him critically. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, and Will wondered if the words were even meant for his ears at all. 

"Unless it’s not him that you’re jealous of." 

A moment later, though, she was smiling again, and she moved her hand from his cheek to his neck and then used it to pull him closer to her. 

"Come back to bed, darling," she said. "Let me show you that there’s nothing to be jealous of."

He wanted to resist, especially after hearing those murmured words, but the tug of her hand was too insistent, so just before their lips touched, he closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in her kiss. 

Something was different, though, because for the very first time since their very first embrace, the feeling of rightness, of completion was gone. He didn’t want to let himself wonder why.

We are two, he thought, and then he didn’t let himself think anymore.
 

Three.

"Will," Elizabeth said. "Stop."

Will stopped his pacing mid-stride, turned on the ball of his foot, and looked at her. She was sitting on Jack’s bed, fully clothed, and she was staring at him with an expression that seemed to be composed mostly of anger, but partially of fear as well.

"It was a mistake," he said. "A mistake to come on this bloody ship, to take Jack up on his invitation." He raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to turn away from her again, to continue his pacing, but he couldn’t.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked. "Because of this? Because of my suggestion? Will…"

"I don’t want to lose you to him!" Will’s voice cracked as he spoke, and he made himself swallow, take two deep breaths. He made himself keep looking at her.

"You won’t," Elizabeth said. "I promise. Just like I won’t lose you to him."

"Of course you won’t lose me to him," he said. "I would never—"

Elizabeth interrupted him. "You think that I haven’t seen the way you’ve looked at him? Have been looking at him ever since he came into our lives? You told him, once, that you were willing to die to save me, but you nearly did die saving him."

"That doesn’t mean—" he started, but she interrupted him again. 

"I saw that little smile on your face when he complimented you on your hat, how pleased you were by that, and when you kissed me, right after that, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was really me you wanted to be kissing."

"It was," he said, even though she hadn’t paused yet to let him get a word in edgewise. "It was you, Elizabeth."

"And I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at him since we’ve been aboard the Pearl," she said. "I’ve seen you, Will. I’m not stupid." 

Then, finally, mercifully, she stopped and there was near silence in the cabin, filled only by Elizabeth’s ragged breaths, and the sounds of the crew working on the deck outside.

"I’ve been watching him watch you," Will said. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded weak, defeated. "I’ve been watching you watch him."

"And I’ve been watching him watch you," Elizabeth said. She lowered her voice abruptly. "Whenever you’re not looking at him, Will, he’s watching you. Whenever you’re off doing something on deck, be it talking with Mr. Gibbs or trying to teach Mr. Cotton’s parrot new words, he watches you."

"He wants you," Will said.

"He wants us both." Elizabeth stood up from the bed and walked towards him, her stocking-feet padding softly across the floor. "I want the both of you. All that’s left, Will, is for you to admit that you want the both of us, too."

"I want you," he said softly. He lifted his hand and buried his fingers in Elizabeth’s hair. She leaned into the touch. "I just want you."

"You have me," she said. "And you can have Jack, too.

Will turned away from Elizabeth and walked across the captain’s cabin to one of the windows that looked out over the deck. He opened it, pushing on the pane with the flat of his palm, and outside, he could see crewmembers moving to and fro, doing things that needed doing. At mid-ship, he could see Jack pacing about, having some sort of argument with Mr. Cotton’s parrot. 

Elizabeth had come to stand next to him, and when Will turned to look at her, he saw that she was staring at Jack, too, with the same wistful expression that he’d seen on her face so many months before. 

You have me, she’d said, but he certainly didn’t have all of her anymore. 

As Will looked out at Jack, feeling a strange fluttering in his heart as he did so, he wondered if she had all of him, either.

He just wanted Elizabeth.

He made his decision.

"I guess we’re three now," he murmured. Then he leaned out the window and called, "Jack! Would you mind coming in here, when you have the time? Elizabeth and I have something that we’d like to discuss with you."

He watched as Jack nodded, as he started swaggering across the deck towards them. As Will shut the window, he leaned down to press a kiss to Elizabeth’s eager smile, and just for a moment, for what he knew would be the last time, he felt as if they were one again.