AS USUAL, I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT WHAT I OWN

-the abbey is really random, I was trying to think of something strange, then I remembered Catholics used to grant "sanctuary' to criminals.

Jack looked at his wife's sleeping form in the dimness of their cabin. She had given so much to him, made him so much better. She satisfied his physical needs as a man, but she also satisfied his emotional needs. She was his other half. His better half. He smirked in the darkness. Who would have ever thought Jack Sparrow, the great Captain Jack Sparrow, would have been such a cliché? Tied up in a woman's apron strings! Faithful to one woman! Why, he even wanted children of all things! Had he lost his mind? Had death muddled something?

No. No, it was not death that had left him so typical, not directly. But it was because of death. Death had made him see that things like fidelity, and love, and children were all so incredibly more important than he had thought. It was important to be faithful. She hadn't even requested him to be. She loved him that much. He supposed she still felt guilt; still felt she needed to repay him for what she'd done.

He told her all was forgiven and in the past, but still she told him she was not going to ask him to be faithful. And in return, he made that choice of his own accord. She was enough to satiate him. He supposed that when the newness of marriage faded, it would be a bit harder, but he was going to stick to it anyway.

He loved her. That was what made him do those things. She got drunk with him, so drunk that she didn't notice any effect the rum had on his romantic performance. She was witty and intelligent. She took care of the ship's log, a task which she enjoyed but he hated. She was tidy, he was messy. It was true that opposites attract. There was something so wonderful about it all.

Then there was that other little item…children. He grinned when, as if in response to his thoughts, the little being inside his wife kicked him. In two months, approximately, the great Captain Jack Sparrow would become a father. In one month, he would celebrate one year since his marriage. One year without even looking lustfully at another woman besides him wife. (Heaven knew he looked that way at her enough to make up for it) He chuckled lightly, remembering that, if her calculations were right, the child had been conceived in, of all things, an abbey. Gracious, what would happen if the nuns knew what the criminal couple who they had granted sanctuary to were doing in that little closet! He figured God would not mind though, since they were actually legally married. (They were married between the time they were granted clemency and the next crime they committed)

Jack was re-thinking life. Since Will had taken Beckett's place as head of the East India Trading company, Jack had been seriously thinking about taking a position as a privateer. He'd be a legal pirate. His wife and child would be safe, but they would still have the adventure they so loved. Restricted freedom was better than watching his wife hang even as he was hanged. The idea of having one less navy chasing him around wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't as if other countries would stop playing tag. Just England. He was becoming so much like the men he had once despised. And he didn't give a bottle of rum about it. He laughed. He had made her stop drinking rum since she told him she was carrying his child. It made her mad, but she knew it was best.

This love was so strange. She gave up everything for him and for freedom. And here he was, unable to think of any woman but her, willing to be legalized for her sake, eagerly awaiting the birth of their child. It made no since. She was seven months pregnant, and he still wanted her. He didn't mind the idea of privateering. He really wanted to meet his child, to raise another freedom-loving rebel to chase the horizon, captain the Black Pearl.

It was all so wonderful. He rolled onto his side and drew his beautiful wife against him. "I love you Lizzy."

THE END

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