Author's Note: I am re-posting this story because I wanted to split it up into chapters to make it easier to read.

This is my first POTC fic, so please be gentle! I would like to dedicate this story to my fabulous beta, Princess of the Pearl, who stuck by my side for months while I muddled through it. Her comments and suggestions were invaluable, and I couldn't have done it without her. Thanks, Michelle! You're the best!

Also, special thanks to my husband Anthony, who listened to every line of this story while I was writing it and offered constructive criticism, whether he wanted to or not. (Especially considering the fact that he thinks I should have written Willabeth, since it's true to the movie...can you imagine?)

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its characters...everything belongs to Disney. The song in the story, "Love Voodoo," belongs to Duran Duran.

When I first met you on the roof

You caught me in your web of youth

But now I know the wicked truth

It's much too late

So what's the use in fighting?

It was a fine time for reminiscing. Jack Sparrow had only recently escaped Davy Jones' Locker, a place he did not intend to visit again anytime in the foreseeable future, only to wind up floating in a murky oblivion watching the souls of the dead drift silently past. There was also the small fact that he trusted almost none of the others aboard the Black Pearl who shared his current predicament. There was one person in particular, however, who invoked in him feelings that went beyond mistrust, feelings that made him question how well he really knew himself: Elizabeth Swann.

He had watched her surreptitiously while he pretended to study the map. She had been sitting near the stern, her knees tucked up under her chin, staring pensively off into the distance. He had wondered what she was thinking, while at the same time wondering why he cared. After all, what was she to him but his murderer? She was decidedly more trouble than she was worth. Had he not risked his own life to save hers? That last thought had forced him on an unwilling trip down memory lane.
He remembered the resounding splash and the panicked cry of the former commodore that had sent him diving deep into the Caribbean to save a spoiled, haughty young girl he'd never even met. He recalled the night they'd spent together on Rumrunner Island, dancing around the fire like children, drinking rum and singing with gleeful abandon. He remembered her teasing him, goading him on the deck of the Pearl until he had come within a hairsbreadth of kissing her. And he remembered the feel of her lips on his at last when she'd shackled him to the mast, leaving him for the Kraken.

What would her beloved William think of that, I wonder?

The look of surprise and suspicion that had crossed the boy's face earlier had left no doubt in Jack's mind that Will hadn't an inkling his own dear fiancée had been responsible for consigning Captain Jack Sparrow to his death, as surely as if she had slit his throat herself with her pretty little hands.

Only a matter of time till he finds out. Probably won't be too keen on marrying her then…

A movement to his far right caught Jack's eye and he turned his head to see Will striding across the deck from the direction of the hold, Elizabeth not far behind him.

Speak of the devil…

"Will," she called out, but Will did not turn nor slow his pace. Elizabeth stopped suddenly, gazing after him sadly.

Bet I know what that's all about, Jack thought smugly. No less than she deserves. Elizabeth had inexorably pushed him one step too far. After innumerable narrow escapes that had left a myriad of scars on much of his body, death was not something Jack Sparrow took lightly – especially now that he'd experienced it firsthand.

You peel me like an onion skin

And wonder at the state I'm in

One day you'll turn up to begin

And find there's nothing left but innuendo

"Jack?"

So absorbed was he in his reverie that he had not heard Elizabeth approach. Force of habit compelled him to reach for the hilt of his sword before the identity of the speaker had even registered in his mind. A tentative hand touched his shoulder.

"Jack, I – "

He shook her off and turned so quickly, he nearly knocked her off balance.

"You'd best not make a habit of sneaking up on me, missy. I'd hate to force the crew to scrub your blood off the deck."

Elizabeth swallowed hard, but met his eyes steadily, despite his malevolent glare. "We need to talk," she said in a near whisper.

"We have nothing to talk about," Jack snapped.

Tears glimmered in Elizabeth's eyes as she reached for his hand. "Please, Jack –"

Once more, he brushed her aside as if she were no more than a pesky mosquito. "Look there, Miss Swann," he said, lifting a hand to point toward where Hector Barbossa stood at the helm. "That man stole my ship and left me to die not once, but twice." He held up two bejeweled fingers for emphasis, his eyes narrowing as he glowered at his former first mate. "And when the opportunity finally presented itself," he continued, his gaze sliding back to her face, "I did not hesitate to shoot him in the heart. And make no mistake, if I didn't need his bloody help getting out of this accursed place, I would gladly do it again." His dark eyes glinted dangerously as they bored into hers. "You chained me to this ship and left me to die. In my book, you're no better than he."

Elizabeth shook her head slightly and raised her hands as if to ward off his words. A tear slid down one pale cheek.

Jack leaned closer, his next words soft but deadly. "It would be wise to keep out of my way when I have vengeance on my mind."

Elizabeth turned and fled. She did not go to Will, Jack noticed, but to a far corner near where Tia Dalma sat.

So much the better, he thought. Now that that unpleasant but requisite discourse was over with, he could devote himself fully to guiding his beloved ship back to the warm waters of the Caribbean. But a moment later, Jack cursed his traitorous heart when the sounds of Elizabeth's sobs reached his ears.

"Bloody hell," he whispered to himself, clenching his fists. When had he allowed her to worm her way into his soul like this? He'd acquainted himself with countless women during his travels, each one more stunning than the last, and he had never denied himself the pleasure of their company, nor the pleasures their company could bring him. He had never formed any attachments to them, however, perpetually believing something – or someone – far more desirable awaited him at the next port of call. But since their first encounter on the docks of Port Royal, Elizabeth Swann was almost always on his mind.

Beside you others fade away

Like amateurs in love's charade

Much more than just a game you play

These subtle moves become a way of living

The sounds of Elizabeth's sobs had quieted now, but their effect on Jack's psyche was no less devastating. He had to fight the urge to go to her, comfort her. With shaking hands, he snatched up the map and strode briskly to his cabin.