-1A/N: Happy late holidays! This is set post COTBP, no DMC yet. I'm afraid this will be my last post for a long time, I'm leaving Monday for a seven month backpacking trip in Asia. Cheers, my darlings, and best wishes to all of you!

A Gift of Heaven

For months now, the packages had been arriving at her door. They varied in all shapes and sizes, sometimes the contents protected by a box or wrapped in a brilliant swathe of cloth. The sender was unknown, the packages never bore a note or tag. However, Elizabeth Swann was no fool, and she had an inkling of where such strange and wonderful things could come from.

Somehow, she'd managed to keep the mysterious gifts a secret from her father. If Governor Swann had the slightest inkling of such things arriving on their doorstep in the middle of the night, he surely would have set a guard outside for years to come, especially if he suspected the sender to be the same person Elizabeth did.

The packages contained the most exquisite objects, from all over the world. An ivory elephant, a Japanese netsuke figurine, and all manners of exotic jewelry. Arm cuffs, bracelets, earrings, ankle bells; by far, her favorite was a long strand of black pearls. She often felt a stinging longing to visit the places where the treasures originated, but thus far had managed to push the urge back down upon every surfacing. It became more and more difficult as time went on.

The latest was by far the most wonderful; in the privacy of her chambers she'd untied the silken ribbon around the box, and opened it to find yards and yards of the most beautiful blue silk. It shimmered like water in the sunlight, changing as one turned it from bright blue to the most breathtaking color of deep violet.

A deep breath revealed the smell of sandalwood; she knew for once a man from the East India Trading Company, Jeremy Rockford, had dined with he and father, no doubt scouting her out as a prospective wife. He'd brought incense, spices, and other things from that far country, props for his tales of the land of tigers and everlasting sunshine. The sandalwood had been her favorite.

It was from that earthy scent and pictures of beautifully adorned Indian women sketched in Rockford's journal that she determined the cloth held on her lap must be meant to be wrapped into a sari. Her heart sung with excitement; she couldn't wait to try it on. If her father caught her in such "heathen" dress he would surely faint; the thought pleased her greatly.

The risk of being caught in daylight was too great; she would wait for nightfall, when the rest of the household had fallen asleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Grinning impishly, Elizabeth stared at her reflection in the mirror. She fished through the box where she kept the special gifts, adorning herself with every piece of jewelry she could fit. A pair of beaten gold earrings hung heavily from her ears, all sorts of rings glinted on her fingers in the candlelight, and a cuff in the shape of a coiled cobra encircled her upper arm.

Somehow, she'd wrestled with the yards and yards of cloth to finally wrap it in a manner that resembled what she remembered from Rockford's illustrations. She knew there was supposed to be some manner of short shirt to go underneath it, but lacking such a thing, she improvised to cover herself with the extra yards of cloth at the end. There was still enough silk to drape over her shoulder, and the tail nearly brushed the ground.

"What are you doing?" asked an inquisitive voice from behind her. Gasping, Elizabeth turned to find Will Turner standing at her balcony door, just inside the room. Her fiancee had been making a habit of scaling the trellis as of late; she found it amusing, that he seemed to long for some sort of adventure after their encounter with Barbosssa and cursed Aztec gold.

"Ah...just trying some things on...for fun," she answered innocently. Will cautiously stepped forward. Although he'd recently somehow gotten the courage up to sneak into her room at night often, he was still very careful to not take liberties with his lady. All too careful, for Elizabeth's tastes.

Feeling silly, Elizabeth quickly shed her rings and pulled off the armlet before turning to Will. He eyed her costume curiously. "Where did this come from?" he asked, reaching out to touch the cloth lightly at her shoulder curiously. So heavy and soft on her skin, wearing the silk made Elizabeth long to be touched in a different way, but the young blacksmith seemed oblivious to the inviting look in her eyes.

"Father gave it to me," she smoothly lied. "Something from the East India Trading Company."

"Ah," said Will, eyebrows raised. "It really is quite beautiful on you." Elizabeth looked down, delighted with the way the moonlight played over the surface of her sari.

"Thank you," she said sweetly, stepping closer to Will. She took his hand in hers, gingerly kissing the back of it. Elizabeth was strangely surprised when Will stepped into her, brushing his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. Hungry, Elizabeth deepened their lip lock, reaching up to slide her fingers into his soft chestnut hair. A year had passed since their big adventure, a year since Will asked her to marry him. He always seemed so determined to preserve her virtue until their wedding night, but more and more lately she wanted him to compromise her, even if just a little.

Will's hands traveled down to her waist, his gentle hands tracing lines across her back lightly. It sent a pleasant thrill through her body, and a small whine escaped from deep in her throat. As his hands traveled up her back, he soon realized that nothing but a few thin layers of silk draped across her separated them.

Alarmed by the spark of desire stirred in his loins, Will pulled back from Elizabeth. She regarded him quizzically, confused as to why he stopped. When she tried to draw him back down to her, he resisted, planting a quick kiss on her forehead before stepping away. "I only wanted to wish you goodnight, Elizabeth. I'm afraid should I stay longer we may both regret it."

"I wouldn't regret it," she assured him, reaching out to her fiance. Smiling apologetically, Will kissed her fingers, but stepped further back towards the balcony.

"Get some rest, dear. We'll be married soon enough." And with that, he went out to the balcony, scurrying down as dexterous as a monkey, and exiting the grounds of the Governor's mansion.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, Elizabeth let out a squeal of frustration, swatting at the air because she had no reluctant fiance upon which to take out her exasperation. She felt as though her skin was on fire, and down low, between the cradle of her hips, she ached. For what she wasn't exactly sure, but she wanted to find out. Unfortunately, Will didn't seem to want to explore with her.

This had become more and more a problem for her as of late; the slightest touch could set her on edge. Perhaps Will still thought of her as the innocent girl he'd grown up with, but it was plain to her that her desires were no longer quite so innocent. She was ready for new games, and sadly, Will didn't want to play, at least not yet.

"Well well, aren't we a saint, Will Turner," she said acidly, falling down onto the settee. Knowing Will didn't mean to be cruel, she sighed, hoping the cool breeze wafting through the open balcony doors would calm her senses. However, the air whispered over the bare skin left by her strange new garment, reminding her of her lust.

Almost absently, her fingers trailed over her thigh, exposed by a break in the wrapped garment. Her touch sent a lovely chill rushing over her skin; it was the kind of sensation she craved to experience by the hand of a lover. Curious as to what other sensations she could pull from herself in a man's absence, her hand slowly began to travel lower along the inside of her thigh.

A soft snicker met Elizabeth's ears, and her hand flew away from its intended destination. She bolted upright, searching the shadows of her large room for an intruder. Almost as though stepping out from backstage in a play, the figure revealed himself, standing in a beam of moonlight thrown across the floor. Elizabeth's heart jumped to her throat.

"Jack!"

He gave a flourishing bow. "At your service, luv." With a mischievous smile, those dark eyes took her in, and she felt the sudden urge to cover herself. "It seems to be more than Will can say for himself."

The intense warmth of a blush spread from Elizabeth's neck to her cheeks and ears. "You shouldn't say such things."

Jack gave another chuckle, a low sound that seemed to pull at something low in her gut. "Just calling it as I...see it."

Elizabeth pointed one long finger at him. "You should be ashamed of yourself. Spying on Will and I. How long have you been in here?"

Jack gave that infuriating shrug she hated and adored. "Pirate, luv. Not ashamed of nothin'." He declined to answer how long he'd been lurking in the shadows; she then knew it would also be a futile effort to ask how he got in.

Elizabeth stood from the settee, and crossed her arms, eyeing the pirate suspiciously. What did he want? If she asked, could she really hope for a straight answer? Probably not. Jack met her gaze with one of his own, dark eyes seeming to bore into her, straight through to her soul. "Exquisite," he murmured, glancing up and down her body once again.

"It is, isn't it?" she agreed, smoothing her hands over the blue silk, straightening some folds gone awry.

"Not exactly what I meant, luv," he explained, paying her a meaningful glance. Before she could read into his expression too deeply, he quickly switched to a lighter note, smiling mischievously. "However, it does become you handsomely."

"Where did you get it?"

"India, of course." Jack looked down his nose at her, almost as though making an inspection. "Now, what about the rest of those baubles I so painstakingly lay to rest at your doorstep?" Without waiting for an answer, he took her hand, leading her over to the vanity. With a wry smile he flipped open the lid of the trunk he recognized, exposing all manners of shiny within. "So much to choose from," he murmured, perusing the wares.

"Why have you brought me these things?" she asked quietly, watching his every movement with fascination. She'd become quite aware of his body standing not inches behind her, she could feel the line of heat through the silk of her sari. As he drew the golden armlet from the box to grace her arm once again, his fingers brushed ever so lightly over her skin, sending gooseflesh marching across it. It hardly seemed fair.

A small voice screamed at her to not fall under Jack's irresistible spell. What about Will? Of course, she loved Will. Will was kind and sweet and...safe. The exact opposite of Jack Sparrow.

Jack was a man who had fascinated her, even as a girl listening to stories or reading books of him. She daren't admit that that childish adoration may have grown into a sort of forbidden love. A love not of the legend, but the man behind it. For all his contrived image and crazed way of life, there was a sort of vulnerability to Jack that appealed to her, called to her. He was a good man caught in a struggle with the rest of the world to maintain his freedom. Although he may never admit it, even Jack Sparrow had his weaknesses. And did she dare admit it? Maybe Jack Sparrow even had a little bit of a weakness for her.

And now that man was standing behind her, a legend in the flesh, tempting her mercilessly. It did not bode well for a bride to be, required to maintain her innocence. Funny, how every time she found herself around Jack, she wanted to offer it up to him on a platter. Take it, Jack Sparrow. I don't want it anymore. What would Will say to such wicked thoughts? He wouldn't understand at all; he would be heartbroken.

"Perhaps because I like you..." he answered, more of an evasion than anything.

"That's not an answer," she protested. "For I know Jack Sparrow always has a reason for everything he does, no matter what he would have others believe. And because he is no fool, I know he would not think he could buy my favors like one of his Tortuga strumpets, no matter how fantastically wonderful these things are."

Leaning his head against Elizabeth's shoulder, Jack groaned. The sound was almost a growl, torn from deep in his throat. "Jack certainly knows Miss Swann is no strumpet to be bought." Still, Jack moved to slide the gold rings back on her fingers. She found herself to be speechless, mesmerized by his hands teasing her skin while adorning her with heavy gold. "It's a much worse situation, I'm afraid," he said, brushing his cheek against hers as he reached into the chest again. He watched her reaction in the mirror, enjoying the sight of glinting gold accenting her smooth skin in the candlelight. She dared to meet his dark eyes in the mirror; even amidst the hunger, there was a certain reverence evident in his gaze.

"Worse?" she asked breathily.

"Oh yes," he continued. "See, it's not just that I like you, it's that I want you. With me. On my ship."

Elizabeth's heart dropped to her stomach; had he really said such a thing? Was he inviting her to sail with him? Part of her, a very minute part, hoped she'd heard wrong. Because if Jack Sparrow offered her a taste of such freedom, she knew she couldn't say no.

"What do you want from me, Jack?" she asked cautiously.

Leaning down slowly, meeting her eyes in the mirror, Jack leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I want you, luv. Just you."

His fingertips slid up her arms and down her back, and the silk only magnified the torturous thrill of his touch. Elizabeth felt her knees go slightly weak under the pirate's attentions; it was a tremor that did not go unnoticed by Jack. Was this real? Could she believe her ears?

"Now now, Lizzy," he whispered, sliding an arm around her waist as though he were supporting her. "No fainting, the fun is only beginning."

"Jack..." she sighed, a sudden wave of guilt stinging her conscience. She turned around to face the pirate, and found his heat no less intoxicating when pressed to the front of her. "If Will ever...this is madness! I'm to be married in less than a year."

Jack stopped en route to taking her lips once again. With a pointed look, he turned to walk across the room. Elizabeth suppressed a cry of protest, so suddenly robbed of his presence so near.

"So now we're going to wax righteous," he said with a glinting-gold grin, leaning against the back of the settee, arms crossed. Perhaps yards of distance across moonbeam-splashed floor separated them, but both felt as though there were a cord tied between them, tugging, calling them back. It was a rough effort, but Jack resisted running back to bend her over that vanity.

Pained, Elizabeth sighed. "Not exactly righteous, Jack. It's just...the truth."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jack's lips curled in that tell-tale smirk. She could practically hear the wheels in his oh so clever mind turning, geared towards gaining his goal. The thought unnerved and excited her, because in all her acquaintance with Jack, he always seemed to get what he wanted. And at that moment, what Jack wanted seemed to be her.

"Truth, eh? So it is. Well, then what say you to this, love? Why choose?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "What?"

"Why choose?" he repeated, smoldering eyes boring into her.

The thought of having both Will and Jack excited and frightened her. Funny, how Jack elicited such contrasting emotions from her at all times. He turned her world upside down, spun it from all directions. Of course, that was why she loved him. Wanted him.

"A lady in every port, eh Jack? Just add me to the list?" teased Elizabeth, thinking he couldn't possibly be serious. Could Jack really be happy with sharing her with Will? He was a strange man.

"No, luv. You're my only lady, I'm afraid. And the thought of your sweet mouth is enough to draw me to Port Royale over Tortuga any night."

Elizabeth's heart thundered in her chest at the thought of what those words really meant. Jack loved Tortuga more than any port town in the world. Surely she didn't really have such gravity with him?

"How is this fair to you?" she dared ask. "Sharing me with Will? Surely you don't like the thought?"
"Not entirely," Jack admitted, pushing away from the settee to walk towards her once again. "But I find myself tangled in quite a dilemma, as do you." He stopped a foot from her, a taunting reminder of the body she'd felt against hers not but a minute ago. "Maybe it's not entirely fair, or good, for either Will or I or you. But it's not all bad. The older you get, the more you start to realize you have to compromise, believe me."

Intrigued, Elizabeth craned her neck inquiringly. "Please elaborate, Captain Sparrow."

"Well, in a way, we all win. Maybe I don't get you all to me'self, but I do get you every once in a while, and keep my beloved life on the sea. You get to have both of the men you love, and Will...well, Will gets to keep his wife. It's better than me up and kidnapping you all together." Jack moved forward once again, leaning into Elizabeth, one arm on either side of her against the vanity. "The thought of kidnapping you has crossed me mind a time or two," he whispered against her neck, lips brushing against the throbbing pulse. Her skin was so soft, and she smelled like heaven. If some sort of understanding wasn't reached soon, he was sure he would go snap.

"And who says I love you, Captain Sparrow?" asked Elizabeth, sighing as one of his tongue darted out to taste her neck.

"Tell me you don't," he countered, leaning back to look into her eyes, daring her to lie to him. "Look me square in the eye, and tell me you don't love me."

Feeling overwhelmed by that piercing gaze, Elizabeth couldn't do it. "And do you love me?" she countered, turning the tables slightly, taking the heat off her for the moment.

"Unfortunately and undoubtedly," he answered, not missing a beat. "You're in my thoughts, and my dreams, day and night. Now that is unfair, luv."

"Unfair." Elizabeth laughed haughtily. "Try coming to terms with being in love with two men at the same time." She leaned in to Jack, so their mouths hovered a breath away, taunting him. "A blacksmith and a pirate. Smart matches for a governor's daughter, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm afraid intelligence has nothing to do with it," said Jack, brushing his lips against hers, sending something like lightning bolts down her spine. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, now would I?"

Elizabeth gave somewhat of a bitter laugh. "Perhaps neither of us would," she admitted.

"So, what say you? Do we have an accord?"

Jack's hand went to her waist, and the tips of his fingers sent the most breathtaking sensations over her skin as he trailed them over his ribcage. It was distracting, making it hard for Elizabeth to remember to breathe, much less weigh such a difficult decision in her mind.

"There's a little voice in my head, telling me I shouldn't be playing Jack Sparrow's games," she said softly, eyes rolling up to look at the pirate holding her. She didn't mention the other voice that suddenly did not seem so small, screaming at her to let Jack have his way. However, she feared he already knew of it.

Jack's hands traveled to her hips, fingertips wreaking havoc upon her nervous system. They left a trail of fire burning upon her skin, brushing down the fronts of her thighs before returning back up to her stomach. Who could possibly guess that a pirate's touch could be so gentle, inviting, incensing? She could. He was, after all, Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Would that be the same little voice that tells you you'll be perfectly satisfied as a blacksmith's wife? Cooking meals and popping out babies?" asked Jack. Elizabeth paid him a glare that wavered as his hand traveled up farther still, resting just beneath her breast. The silk amplified the pleasure of his touch upon her, almost to an unbearable point. He could drive her mad, just caressing her over the silk, not touching bare skin. It was enough to make her want to unravel the yards and yards of fabric from around her, just to try his hands.

"Because that's not what I'm hearing," he continued, exhilarated by her responses to his touch. "I hear the voice of a woman's desire, luv. This is the inner voice of the fully bloomed woman Will has no idea what to do with." Elizabeth groaned at his fingertips found the junction between her hip and thigh, exploring the crevice, torturously pulling back before they could discover the throbbing pulse she felt between her legs. But you're not a little girl anymore, are you Lizzy?"

"No." Her voice surprised her, escaping her lips as a low and throaty sound. Craving closer contact, she leaned into him, lifting an arm up to slide fingers into his hair. His fingers grazed that junction once again, only this time straying a bit closer to the area where she suddenly so craved his touch. The frustration of his teasing caused a tremble to travel throughout her frame; she wanted to squeal with frustration.

It was when his hand traveled up her long torso, and just barely brushed the tip of her nipple that she released a cry. Every muscle in Jack's body burned to drag he over to the bed, to throw her down and have her atop a soft sea of blue silk. But timing was all apart of this game; he wanted to light her afire, to bring her to a point of no return. "You'll be the death of me, Jack," she pleaded in that throaty voice. She's a goddess he thought, high on the sensation of her sinewy body rubbing against him. How does Will think he can ever really keep her?

"Is that what the voice is saying now?" he teased. "Because I think it's begging to learn how to play Jack Sparrow's game."

"You want to teach me how to play?" she asked, breathless after his lips on her neck send a shockwave through her system.

"I want to teach you everything," he growled, leaning in to take her mouth in a soul-searing kiss. As soon as his lips touched hers she knew she was lost, knew her mind was made. He nibbled and sucked at her lower lip, sending the most incredible sensations through her entire body. Somehow while kissing her Jack managed to maneuver them over closer to the bed, his senses reeling.

Jack's hands wandered up to her shoulder, where she'd secured the last tuck of her sari, somehow keeping the folds in place without the use of pins. Jack's deft fingers gave a tug on the silk, and it slid away. Slowly, he unwrapped his prize, gathering handfuls of the silk that once covered her and tossing it to the bed. It was as the cool night breeze kissed her bare skin that a look of uncertainty crossed Elizabeth's expression. However, it was quickly quelled by the look in Jack's eyes. He drank in the sight of her, as though he were a man dying of thirst.

"I've never seen a woman more beautiful in all my life," he whispered, in awe that he could possibly be so lucky, to be allowed to touch something so fine. As Jack's lips pressed against her neck and dipped lower, she believed him.

Jack's hands moved to his vest, before Elizabeth stopped him, slender fingers clasping his. He looked to her with questioning eyes, until she requested softly, "May I?" With a pleased smile he held his hands wide, surrendering to her.

"By all means, luv."

He watched her hands as they moved over his clothing, loosening buttons and ties at a torturously slow pace. He sighed contentedly as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders; it fell into a shapeless pool of fabric on the floor. Unable to resist the promise of her bare skin against his, Jack pulled her against him, taking her lips in a slow, exploring kiss.

With strong hands on her thighs Jack suddenly lifted her light form, tossing her gently onto the swathe of silk spread out in a shimmering blue plane behind them. Quickly, he stripped out of his britches, and made to join her. About to join her on the bed, he paused to take in the glorious sight before him. Her golden hair spilled around her, framing that beautiful face, dark eyes and pert breasts. From her round, soft stomach to creamy white thighs, right down to her slender feet she was a perfect sight to behold. "You're a vision, luv," he whispered, finally crawling up on the soft bed. "You're paradise."

As his hands traveled over her skin, from the inside of her thigh up to brush against one taut pink nipple, Elizabeth rocked her head back. "You feel like heaven, Jack," she said, sighing contentedly as he settled his full body weight down on her, hips fitted so perfectly between her legs. Every surface of their bodies fit so perfectly together, Jack knew he wouldn't want to move for a very, very long time. Her words echoed in his head. You feel like heaven. When had he ever heard such a sweet, intoxicating endearment directed towards him?

How could she say such things to him, and still intend to marry the eunuch? It seemed like quite a mess he'd gotten himself into this time, and no matter what he said, he knew he wouldn't be content with sharing forever. After all, what a pirate did best was stealing. For now, their arrangement would do, but someday Jack knew he would have to take her away to the Pearl and the seven seas. And if he knew anything of his Lizzy, she would love every minute of it.

"You are my heaven, luv," he told her, hoping she knew he meant every word. She sighed in response as his fingers found her, and he decided that for now their arrangement was more than good enough.

Reviews, anyone? Come on, make it a late Christmas present...