Written by: mamazano and danglingdingle

Title: "Pirate..."

Rating: M

Characters/Pairings: Jack/Elizabeth implied

Disclaimer: Disney owns them, we just like playing with them. A lot.

A/N: The first in a series of "missing" scenes from Curse of the Black Pearl, some of which might be disturbing in nature, exploring the paradox of a pirate and a good man.

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Part 1 – "I think it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate!"

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The fire had burnt down to gray embers, with barely a whiff of smoke remaining in the fog shrouded faint light of the pre-dawn. Jack Sparrow woke slowly, his senses dulled by rum and sleep, it took him several minutes to register the soft, warm bundle pressed against his chest.

Eyes suddenly wide open he glanced down in apprehension at the slumbering girl, her face peaceful in repose and, if possible, even more beautiful than when awake. Long dark lashes against her rosy cheeks, her mouth a delectable plum, moist and pink, ripe for picking… Her lips parted slightly in slumber, tempting… daring him to sample their sweet mysteries. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Jack tried to extract his arm from under the relaxed form. How did she…what did he…his mind was trying to recall what had happened the night before. She stirred and moaned in Jack's arms, a soft, sensuous sound that sent his blood to racing and his goods to rise. Not good! He scrambled to remove himself from temptation before he became completely unaccountable for his actions.

As he finally freed his arm, Elizabeth opened her eyes and smiled sleepily.

"Don't go," she said softly.

Jack scrambled to his feet and strode a few yards down the beach, adjusting himself and taking several deep breaths as he stood with his back to her, and said as calmly as he could muster under the circumstances, "Fire's 'bout out. Best be taking advantage of the embers that's left. I'll just go fetch some wood."

Elizabeth seemed to have other ideas of what she should take advantage of though, and came up silently behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Jack cleared his throat, wondering if there was any truth in her tale of woe from the night before. Damn blasted woman-child! He'd known whores in Tortuga with more subtleness. Perhaps he ought to just…

He cleared his throat again and slowly turned around, the girl still clinging to him like a limpet. Her eyes were wide tidal pools of desire, albeit a bit bleary, her mouth an inviting morsel, her slender body pressed against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him clumsily downward onto the sand. Where was the proper young lady from the night before? Instead he found himself in the clutches of a determined, obviously inebriated, though entirely, enticingly seductive temptress.

"Hold up there, missy!" Jack finally managed to utter, grabbing both her wrists and shaking her slightly. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Elizabeth tossed her hair back off her shoulder, revealing her graceful neck, and smiled drunkenly, her eyes glimmering. "Playing pirate."

"Playing pirate?" Jack eyed her suspiciously. "And just how does one go about doing that?"

She laughed, wriggling her hands free and resuming her assault. "You pillage and ravish and don't give a hoot!"

"You're drunk." Jack pointed out bluntly, gathering whatever wisps were left of his determination.

"S'am not," Elizabeth slurred. "What's the matter? Am I not pretty enough?" She pouted, her lower lip so extremely luscious, Jack had to pause, look away from the young lady's brown eyes, and swallow with a gulp before answering.

"You are right handsome, Miss Swann. Too much so for your own good," Jack stopped his fingers right when they were about to find out if the tantalizing skin on Elizabeth's cheek was as soft as it seemed.

Balling his hand to a fist, he rolled out from under her and scrambled back to his feet with a silent grumble. God help him if he started bedding girls at this tender age. If…and that was a mighty big if…If they ever got off this godforsaken spit of land, the last thing he needed was to be sent to the gallows for de-flowering the Governor's daughter.

The girl sat tousle-haired in the sand, arms crossed and a petulant pout on her face. "You don't wish to ravish me?"

Jack picked up a bottle and eyed the meagre contents remaining before quaffing them down in one long, fortifying swallow. "I don't think you want me to be doing that, young missy."

Elizabeth blinked, trying to focus. "Stop calling me that," she said, frowning. "I am old enough."

"Oh, I've no doubt you are. Though that ain't wholly significant when it comes to ravishing, since I've never met me a pirate who bothered to ask a wench's age before claiming the prize."

Elizabeth reached for the bottle of rum, swallowing a mouthful and grimacing. "But you're a pirate."

"Trust me. You would only regret it in the morning."

"Why?" She jutted her chin out defiantly. "Is the Infamous Captain Jack Sparrow that inadequate?"

Jack sputtered and coughed. Bad enough to be attacking his person, but also his manhood? This would never do. Well, two could play pirate, it that's what it took. He turned around and leered with a teeth baring, lopsided smirk. Walking over to where she sat, he squatted down in front of her and ran his finger along her chin tenderly, almost not a touch at all, and asked in soft tones, "You want me to ravish you? Is that what you really want, Miss Swann?"

"Because if you do…" He cupped her face with a sudden, firm hand, and guided her back onto the sand with the other, his touch roaming along her sides and under her breasts, Jack's grin turning more wolfish with each brush. Then, first one, and then another hand stroked along her arms demandingly, ultimately finding her wrists and twisting her arms up above her head, pinning them down to the sand, shifting to restrain her legs with his weight, pressing himself hard against the gown-covered, sensitive crook of her thigh, ignoring her gasp and her widening eyes.

"If this is what you really want, dear Elizabeth," Jack leaned to wedge his hand between their bodies, fingers bundling Elizabeth's clothing up her thigh, and sliding a calloused hand along the revealed skin none too gently.

Eyes narrowing, his smirk a distorted, disturbing version of his usual, jovial grin, Jack leaned lower towards the abundance of pale skin above the collar of Elizabeth's shift, his voice a deep growl as he tightened his hold on her wrists. "I would hate to disappoint such a willing young lady such as yourself."

"Mister Sparrow!" Instinct, proper training, and the overwhelming feeling of threat finally seeped through Elizabeth's rum-hazed mind, springing her to action. "Unhand me, this instant!" she demanded, eyes flashing, kicking her leg to throw Jack off her.

Jack instantly released Elizabeth's hands and deftly rose right up to his feet, chuckling as Elizabeth pulled her legs to herself and quickly drew the dress over her knees.

"I thought you wanted to play," Jack said flippantly, his eyes regarding the young woman keenly with mixed worry and increasing trepidation.

There was no response from Elizabeth, only her eyes shifting, looking at anything but Jack, her face flushed with the lingering effects of the rum, and something more profound than intoxication.

Maybe he had overdone today's lesson about the ways of the world, outside the covers of a novel, just a little. "Right, then, game's over. I suppose 't weren't quite what you've been fantasizing 'bout, after all."

He offered a hand to aid the lass up, to which she only glanced at with contempt. Jack grew sober and serious, letting his hand fall slack by his side, and huffed with a dismissive shrug, "Pirate, remember?"

Elizabeth was up the moment the last syllable dropped from Jack's lips, eyes flaring with hurt rage, and the next thing Jack heard was the ringing of his ears when he was rewarded with a resounding slap.

Rubbing his chin, with his eyes closed, he determined he'd made his point quite clear, and turned without another word said from either. Trudging in the night-cool sand to a safe distance from the now very wide awake and angry Miss Swann, Jack found another half-empty bottle on his path, remains from their earlier frolicking around the fire.

Arriving at a comfortable enough spot around a bend blocking him from the feisty woman's view, Jack raised his drink up in a mocking toast, and promptly proceed to drink himself back into sweet oblivion.

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