A/N: Bear with me if this is offbeat, out of character, or just bad writing. I wrote this over 4 years ago, and my writing has gotten better, but I thought it was cute enough to post. Please let me know what you think. :)
Elizabeth's muscles instantly stiffened when she heard Will's familiar heavy footfalls stomping up their winding stair case and cringed knowing he'd be in a terrible way. Sure enough, the door opened and slammed seconds later. She listened to him struggling with his overcoat, his frustrated curses when he couldn't remove it fast enough and finally the discarded item forcefully thrown to the ground. She knew she must say something. They were married after all. "Will-"
He stormed past, glaring daggers at her. "I have nothing to say to you."
She stood, amazed at his incredible anger. "Is this about the luncheon? William Turner, stop being so bloody sensitive-"
Will's hair fell loose as he swiveled. "You know what this is about, Elizabeth!" She almost couldn't keep his gaze because his eyes blazed so wildly.
"I apologize for missing Father's luncheon, but there will be others-"
"You didn't show up for the luncheon because you were too busy...pirating with Jack Sparrow!"
Elizabeth's face reddened as she recalled the moment alone in Jack's quarters as they studied his maps. The intensity of the captain's stare and the tingly feeling his closeness gave her. Her mind flashed back to Jack's mysterious, kohl-smeared gaze, the clinking of the coins and beads woven in his unruly black hair and the smell that was uniquely Jack; sea and smoke and rum. She peered up at her husband from the ground and took in his expensive, red silk clothing and shoes and curly chestnut hair. His beard which she had treasured dearly in the beginning of their marriage was long gone. What a contrast to Jack's dark mustache and his whisker-lined jaw.
Will was every bit of a gentleman as he wished to be, but everything Elizabeth wished he was not. "He-we had matters to discuss...with-"
"Matters..? To discuss...? Elizabeth, you left me waiting at this gathering alone and I ended up dining by myself. Do you understand how embarrassed I was? Not only am I trying to make a good impression for society, but I am trying to show what a good husband I am by escorting my lovely wife to court. Do you think it is easy for a low-class apprentice to simply mingle with royalty?"
"Please, Will, you're yelling."
He purposely raised his voice as he wandered to their cabinet and grabbed a glass and a bottle of brandy. "No, darling, I'm not yelling. If I were yelling, you would know it!"
The rebellious spark flared inside of her and she grasped her skirts and stomped over to him as he tossed the alcohol back. "You know how I hate these awful social events! You know that all they do is gossip and brag about their riches and laugh at the unfortunate. Do you want to be a part of such nonsense?!" She interrupted before he could say anything. "I went to see Jack, yes. But one second on the Black Pearl is far more fascinating than a year in Port Royal. When we first married you felt the same. What happened to this man, the pirate I fell in love with?"
"I am not a pirate," he growled and stabbed a finger at his chest. He turned his back to her and wiped his mouth. "A pirate's life is no life for a governor's daughter and I'll die before I see my wife hanged for Jack Sparrow's crimes."
"We were merely having a chat, he was teaching me about cartography. We were not committing crimes."
"So that's it, then, hmm? You'd rather spend time with a pirate than with your husband and your father? You know what people would say? You know they could charge us with condoning piracy?"
"Oh, please, William."
"What is this? You have feelings for Jack? Is that why you don't come to bed anymore? Is that why your face lights up when he visits?" Her silence fueled his fury. Will cleared his throat. "You'll not visit with Captain Sparrow again, Elizabeth, unless I am accompanying."
"I'm no child, Turner; I will do as I please. You don't own me!"
She turned and scrambled out of their house, pulling the pins from her hair and tossing her shawl. Tears spilled white-hot down her cheeks, falling into the air as she scrambled. She heard her husband shouting after her, but she ignored him and ran for the hidden harbor where she found her only solace. Which just so happened to be where a certain captain had his ship careened for repairs.
The Caribbean breeze was light and billowy as it flowed through her hair, her dress. She longed to remove her shoes and stockings and allow them to trample through the sand, but she was too angry to stop and she didn't want Will to catch up with her if he was still running after her.
"Whoa, hold up now, Missy!" growled a familiar voice which Elizabeth recognized as Gibbs'. "Miss Elizabeth, what be troublin' ye?" His brow furrowed in something akin to concern.
"I must speak with Jack," she gasped, exerted from sprinting away from her house. "Would you be so kind..?"
Gibbs' eyes drifted to the right and his meaty hand waved in the same direction where a lean, bearded figure lazily caroused on a small inlet. "Lookin' over some new maps. He may be in the mood for yer company, child."
"Thank you, Mister Gibbs."
Elizabeth's spirits lifted at the sight of the man's tricorn hat and unruly hair. Had Will been right about his wife having feelings for Jack? Feelings other than friendship...something that nudged at romantic? No, she loved Will deeply. But Jack was mysterious and fascinating. He didn't live by the rules and couldn't have cared about what the public thought of his solo dining or who he escorted.
"Jack," she said, and watched him turn to look at her. He managed a smile, but seemed unwilling to break his concentration. "Where do these lead to?" she asked, hooking her index fingers together behind her back. Why did she feel so self-conscious around him?
His concentration immediately broke at her inquiry. "The Far East, darling. Be a good lass and come over here, Lizbeth. Any good pirate must know his...or her charts." He motioned at a stretch of islands far off to the East. Pointing at a particular spot, he added, "Have you heard of Thailand?"
She leaned over his shoulder. "Heard of it, yes. But the farthest East I've traveled is France. I was merely six, so I only remember fragments of that trip." Elizabeth stopped herself and gawked at Jack in that glazed, far-off look she got every time she thought of pirates. "Have you been there?" He grinned.
"Oh, yes. I've sailed just about anywhere a man can be. There are pirates over there too, you know. Far more aplenty and ten times more vicious. I once saw a man chopped to bits and tossed to sea for stealing the captain's spoon, of all things. Over a bloody eating utensil! And another unfortunate fool made the mistake of shooting a hole through the boatswain's hat. The crew tackled him to the deck and sliced off his ears." As Elizabeth grimaced, he tapped his chin in thought. "Of course, they did have some of the finest scenery a man could ask for."
"Scenery..." Elizabeth echoed, and then remembered the conversation they'd had on the island when she'd been marooned by Barbossa. "You mean to say, 'whores'. Am I right?" She arched an eyebrow.
Jack tossed his hands in the air in his usual flamboyant manner. "Well, if you want to put it that way."
She tried her hardest to appear utterly disgusted, but laughed anyway. "Back to the lesson, Captain. There's much to learn."
"Ah, yes, very good, Lizzie. I see you've been paying attention. One must never lose concentration." He turned back to the spread-out papers and rubbed his palms together, then stopped and turned. "Before I go on, where your dear William? Will he not be accompanying you again?"
Elizabeth fidgeted nervously. "Will is actually in a rather foul disposition at the moment and I thought it best to allow him some time alone. The sword smith trade is becoming very lucrative and requires much of his concentration, so he...usually comes home with a short temper. He's just so worried about impressing my father and is hardly ever thinking of anything other than profits." Jack nodded and eyed her skirts which were soaked to her shins. Suddenly she felt very silly. Had she revealed too much about her problems to him? Would he even care?
Then he smiled in a companionable way and leaned close to her; just enough to make her feel skittish. "Well, perhaps we should have a chat with the whelp and remind him that not all treasure is silver and gold."