Jack grinned, soaking her in for a second---golden and annoyed and sad and gorgeous and treasured. Exquisite.

Then, without another word, he whirled away and made his unsteady but determined way toward Seven.

The ladies will probably be shocked at the bathtub ring that he was going to leave behind, when it is eventually discovered.

With very little time to spare, a curious sight will be on offer to any (un)fortunate enough to be hanging around the shuttered clothing shop: Sparrow, wrapped about the waist in a towel, breaking in for a suitable set of clothes for this party.

Mother Fate adored him. Auntie Luck was chucking him under the chin and pinching his cheeks. Grandmother Doom was sulking in the corner.

There was still a collection of twenty five or so seconds to spare when Sparrow finally made his breathless way back to the party.