Author's Note: I'm well aware that something similar has probably been done before, but I couldn't help myself. This is a short little thing that takes place between the first two movies. It involves an incident that is briefly mentioned in my last fic, but you don't need to read one to enjoy the other. Also, there is an anachronism somewhere in here (two, actually, I think); if you can spot it, you win an imaginary cookie and my love.

Warning: What follows contains material of an adult nature; if you can't name private body parts without giggling, you might be too young to read this. I'm not kidding. It gets a little graphic. An old man would die of a heart attack if he were to read parts of this. So if you're old and you have heart problems, you might want to leave, too.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings mentioned herein are Disney's, not mine. I'm just taking them out for a playdate. No pirates were harmed in the making of this fic.

Hanging Propriety

by L.Freyja

"Who does he think he is?" Elizabeth asked her empty room. She paced back and forth, covering the space from wall-to-wall in long, angry strides. "Isn't it enough that I'm not allowed to be without a chaperone even when I'm walking down a crowded street?"

A small portrait on her bedside table caught her eye. She hesitated mid-step, then released a defeated sigh, her anger leaving with her breath. The painted likeness of her mother stared back at her, as if issuing a reminder that her father only did what he thought was best for her. Elizabeth studied the portrait, the sharp cheeks and chin that were so like her own. It was true, she knew; she was the only remaining link her father had to her mother and he would do anything to protect his child.

"That still doesn't make the situation any less frustrating. Damn propriety," she muttered. She put a steadying hand on the back of a chair, feeling light-headed and short of breath. And damn the man who invented the corset, she added silently. It had to be a man who first thought of the infernal thing, of course. No sane woman would think such a contraption was a good idea.

Elizabeth began to unfasten buttons and reached behind her for the laces of her corset. Without help, it would take some maneuvering, but she'd get it done. Her father would be dining out and she had no guests to expect, so no one would protest to her wearing something more comfortable. After some minor struggling, a triumphant Elizabeth watched her dress puddle at her feet and flung her corset into the empty seat of her favorite chair.

Clad only in her shift, she stepped out of her dress and walked past open windows- a daring activity her father would no doubt explode over if he caught her- and crouched by a small oak chest. The chest was simply carved and didn't quite match the rest of the furniture in the room. But that didn't matter. It had faithfully served her before, during, and after her voyage from England. When she was a child it had held a few articles of clothing and some hidden treasures. Now those treasures, mostly feathers and coins and other interesting trinkets, were stowed away elsewhere, hidden reminders of a fanciful childhood, and the chest currently held a number of simple dresses. None of them were beautiful gowns of the sort a governor's daughter might be expected to wear. In fact, they were simple and common looking and, most importantly, they were comfortable. Which, Elizabeth thought as she lifted the lid of the chest, was exactly what was needed.

She pushed aside two lightly colored bundles until she came to the third. Smiling, she drew out a burgundy- and cream-colored dress. It was tasteful and cut to suit her figure, but plain compared to what she usually wore for dinner or an outing. And it was her favorite. The mended and stained hem gave testament to innumerable walks in the surf- walks that she once took alone and in secret, but now enjoyed sharing with a certain blacksmith.

Her thoughts took a radical turn from her peaceful walks to her fiance and the strong hands and legs attached to him. He always rolled up his pants and shirt sleeves when they were on the beach and those were often the only times she saw him exposed so. Those walks allowed her the opportunity to study the wiry strength of his forearms and dark legs. If he were feeling exceptionally comfortable and they were free from a strict chaperone, he would often unfasten his vest and the first few buttons of his shirt, opening up more bronzed skin to the Caribbean breeze. He was never fully divested of his clothing, of course, but oh did her imagination allow her to fill in the blanks.

Elizabeth remembered to breathe and realized that she was still crouching in front of the chest, her dress in her hands. A smile crossed her face and she stood, looking out the nearest window towards the smithy. She couldn't see Will's home and workplace from where she stood, but she could see the walls that blocked it from her view and noted the lack of smoke rising from behind it. That was to be expected, of course. It was Sunday and the very reason she had the pleasure of Will's company in the parlor earlier that afternoon. That visit, unfortunately, was also indirectly responsible for her earlier tantrum.

A cloud passed over the sun and broke Elizabeth's trance. She scowled and began to tug on her dress. The day had been going so well until her father had interrupted. Governor Swann had wished to stay in town for a while and visit with some of his acquaintances after the morning's sermon. It was an exceptionally humid day with all but no breeze to speak of, and Elizabeth had been quite ready to head home and spend the rest of the morning reading and resting. Will, catching her eye from across the road, joined her side and instantly noticed her discomfort. After greeting and paying respects to her father and his companions, Will offered his arm, to take Elizabeth to her home and leave the Governor free to pursue his social engagements. He insisted it would be no problem at all and that he would be pleased to escort Elizabeth- in the company of the Swann estate's coachman, of course.

The Governor readily accepted and gave the young couple his leave and, all too happily, Will helped Elizabeth into the landau and climbed in after her. The driver gave them both a grin and quickly took his own seat. They were already down the road, Elizabeth all but sitting in Will's lap, before her father had the chance to raise his arm in a brief farewell. He clearly was not entirely pleased with the young man and woman's proximity to one another, but he noted approvingly that at least this time his daughter hadn't pulled her blacksmith into an embrace.

Will, for his part, was all too pleased to have Elizabeth nearby, even if he did cast nervous glances from side to side in the half-hidden fear that someone might notice how her hand rested comfortably on his thigh or how her hip touched his. Still, the ride to the Swann estate was a pleasant one and if Will seemed a little too concerned with propriety, Elizabeth wasn't going to complain. It had been almost a week since the last time they'd had the opportunity for a proper conversation and her heart and blood warmed at the sound of his low, soft voice. When he turned to look at her face, she found herself studying the way his lips moved as he spoke and realized that she didn't actually know what he was saying. But who cared what he was saying? She sure didn't, at least not at the moment. What she did care about was what those lips were particularly good at- and it sure wasn't talking- and where they did their best work.

"Elizabeth?" he asked.

She laughed, both at the use of her first name and at the direction her rather improper mind was taking her thoughts. "Don't mind me, Will. I'm just... admiring the scenery," she said, brushing a loose piece of hair from his forehead.

Will had blushed at that, making him look like an awkward teenager once more and earning more laughter from Elizabeth. The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed in a similar fashion, although they did spend some time in serious conversation about the copy of The Illiad that she'd lent him. After arriving at the mansion, Elizabeth, parasol in hand, insisted on stretching her legs in a walk around the garden and Will happily complied. The strolled along and she knew they made quite the striking couple- she with her strong, refined features and Will with his gentlemanly posture and smiling eyes.

It was when those smiling eyes turned on her once more that Elizabeth gave in to temptation and stood on tip-toe to kiss him. Will responded immediately, then hesitated as she leaned in for more. Guessing his question, she murmured against his lips, "No one can see us. We're behind the gazebo and fountain."

"But what about your maid?"

"I've given my dear Estella permission to be lax in her observatory duties when you're around." Elizabeth let her parasol dangle at her side and slid her free hand up his chest to his face.

Will rested his hands on her hips and held her against him. He lowered his mouth to pull her into a deeper kiss and she let her eyes drift closed. When he wasn't worried about propriety, any and all manifestations of his passion were enough to leave her heady and short of breath. They had been engaged for only three months and already she felt as if it had been far too long. She wanted to move on beyond discreetly managed brushing of thighs, stolen kisses, and severely subdued affection. She wanted to be able to watch Will's mouth move across skin that was normally hidden beneath a gown, to touch him in ways that were most certainly not within the bounds of propriety. She wanted that, and more. And, if the hardening bulge pressing against her was any indication, Will wanted the same.

The two broke apart when a soft rumble interrupted their moment together. Will laughed, readjusted his jacket, and asked, "Hungry?" The redness of her cheeks wasn't due to the heat and, a little embarrassed, Elizabeth shrugged.

"I was running late this morning and didn't have time to finish breakfast. I'm sure that if we go in, Estella would have no issue with fetching us some tea and something light to eat," she said.

What she didn't say- although she was sorely tempted to- was what exactly she was hungry for and how she wanted to go about satisfying that hunger. But as they walked arm-in-arm to the mansion, she admitted that omission was probably the best choice. After all, if she'd told him, Will would probably die of some sort of heart disturbance or just begin to mumble about waiting until the wedding and how her father would kill him if he overstepped the bounds of propriety.

They'd taken their lunch in the informal parlor. Well lit but small, the parlor was Elizabeth's favorite place to receive guests under casual circumstances. The wooden floor was left bare, save for one frayed but well-loved rug, and the furniture was so comfortable that one could forgive the chairs their gaudy yellow and green upholstery. A pianoforte sat in one corner, although Elizabeth hardly ever touched it, but it added to the room's homely feel. It also seemed to put Will at ease. Although he claimed to be unaffected by the house, she suspected he was always a little uncomfortable in such foreign surroundings.

The two of them sat in chairs close to one another, separated by a small, round table. After watching Estella deposit her tray on the small table, Elizabeth smiled, thanked her, and assured her that she'd call for her should they need anything else. Estella took the hint and, with a poorly concealed conspiratory smile, curtsied and hurried out of the room. Will and Elizabeth shared the refreshments and discussed current affairs in the political arena. Will, she had been delighted to discover, was actually well aware of what was happening and where. And, most importantly, he was willing to talk to her about such matters, which was a rare thing to find in a world full of men who felt that women needed to know nothing about money or politics.

It was in such a position- the two of them seated, Elizabeth leaning forward and listening intently- that Governor Swann happened to find them as he walked past the parlor's open door. Neither of them had heard the older man's approach, but the alarm in his face couldn't be missed.

"Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth whipped her head around and saw her unamused father standing in the doorway. "Yes?" she asked, keeping her voice calm and unconcerned.

"Governor Swann," Will said, standing to give a short bow. "How good to see you again."

The governor sputtered and looked from his daughter to his future son-in-law and back to his daughter. "What do you two think you're doing?"

"Will and I were just discussing some affairs of state, father. Nothing you need to worry about, " said Elizabeth.

"Nothing to worry about?" The governor sighed, already exhausted by thoughts of the impending argument. "What about rumors? This is how they are started, you know. Why must you always dodge or dismiss your chaperone? Do you want people to think that you're being seduced in broad daylight?"

Will stiffened a little. "Sir," he said, "you know I would do no such thing. I wouldn't dare harm Elizabeth's reputation."

"My apologies, Mr. Turner. I am merely concerned for all involved."

Enraged, Elizabeth flew to her feet. "Concerned? I don't care about rumors, and you know you have no reason to fear that Will might seduce and ravish me in a room with open doors and windows." She saw her father open his mouth to argue and she continued, "If anything, you should be most worried for Will instead of me. If I had my way, I'd have seduced and ravished him long ago."

Governor Swann appeared rendered speechless for a moment and Will, for his part, blushed to the roots of his hair. "But Elizabeth," the governor began, "propriety-"

"Oh, damn the rules of propriety! They're... They're more like guidelines, anyway!"

Will watched the exchange between father and daughter and realized that if he were going to make his escape, he'd better do so before the governor recovered from Elizabeth's declaration. "I'd best be getting back to town now. Governor. Elizabeth. Thank you for lunch and your wonderful conversation." He bowed again and left the room quickly but calmly.

Elizabeth sat back down and prepared herself for another lecture from her father. The lecture, thankfully, was short and was followed by her furious pacing and decision to shed her nice dress for the more comfortable one.

Now, as Elizabeth contemplated the events of the past morning, she took note of the lack of traffic on the roads in the town down below. Evening was encroaching and her father would be dining out with that acquaintance. She would be alone until the morning. No one would be around to criticize her lack of propriety.

An idea bloomed in her mind and she turned to examine herself in the mirror. The dress she wore was perfectly acceptable for a quick visit with someone close to her and her elaborate bun had been let down and pinned back in a far more informal fashion that allowed some hair to fall loose and around her face. Her father would have a heart attack if he saw her out in the street like this, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. All she had to do was wait until dark.

As soon as the sun had set, Elizabeth stole out of the mansion and down into town. It wasn't too far from her home to Will's, but the winding streets and the silence of her surroundings made the trip stretch on more than was normal. Still, it wasn't too long until she was at the front door of the smithy. No light leaked out through the cracks in the wooden doorframe or through the window, which was often left open during the day. She'd expected that and continued around to the back, where a short flight of stairs led to the shop's apprentice loft. Old Mr. Brown lived in a house down the road and closer to the edge of town, but Will's loft was directly above and behind the storage room in the back of the smithy. He'd once complained about the constant heat, but admitted that he enjoyed living free of his master, even if his loft was cramped and too warm.

Elizabeth rounded the corner of the smithy and looked up to see the faint glow of candlelight from one of two windows that remained propped open. As quietly as possible, she lifted the hem of her dress free of her feet and climbed the old stairs to the loft's door. She knocked softly, but received only a muffled grunt in reply. Curious, she pushed down on the handle, opened the door, and crept inside.

Will was slumped in a chair just to the left of the larger of the two windows. A stub of candle burned on the table next to him and in the dim light she could see that a book rested in his lap. What she found most interesting, however, was that he was wearing only a pair of breeches and an unbuttoned shirt and most of his hair had fallen free of its tie. This was a more relaxed version of Will than she was used to seeing and she was suddenly reminded of the young boy they'd found clinging to a piece of driftwood on her passage from England.

This wasn't the first time she'd been to his loft and she remembered the space being tidy and sparsely furnished, so she felt confident navigating the room in semi-darkness. She crossed the short distance from the door to Will's chair. She took the book and placed it on the table that held the candle, blew out the flame, and smiled as she felt more than heard him stir in front of her. Feeling bold, she rested her hands on his naked chest as she leaned forward and kissed him.

"What?" Will's eyes fluttered open. "Elizabeth?"

She silenced him with another kiss and moved to sit in his lap where the book had been seconds before. His mouth opened beneath hers without hesitation and she let the nails of one hand trail lightly down his torso, tracing the hardness and dips of his stomach. He moaned and she lifted her other hand to run through his dark, curly hair. She playfully bit his lower lip and scooted on his lap so that her thigh brushed against the growing hardness at his groin.

Will seemed to come fully awake then and he stood, his powerful arms pulling and holding her tight against him. He broke the kiss and whispered as though someone might overhear, "What are you doing here? I swear, Elizabeth, you are a succubus, stealing in here like a shadow."

She smiled, her lower lip between her teeth. "No, I'm no mythical creature. I'm no dream, either."

"Thank God you're not," he said.

Elizabeth slid her hands up his chest and across his shoulders, pushing his shirt down his arms. Heat radiated from him and she couldn't help but watch his skin pull tight across the underlying muscle as he tossed his shirt to the side. He bent down to possessively press his lips to her neck, making her arch into him. Elizabeth bit back a mischievous grin. He certainly knew made her squirm, but he was wrong if he expected her to be some wilting flower in his arms. Her William had a few more surprises waiting for him.

She let him kiss a trail up her neck to her ear. When he took her earlobe in his teeth, she gasped and pressed into him, feeling a growing ache between her legs. To even the score, she went directly to the source of his own tension. She pressed her palm, firmly, against his straining erection. Will moaned into her neck, his breath warm against her skin. His hands found their way to her hips and when she rubbed her hand against him, the friction of fabric on his skin made him fight the urge to cry out. His grip tightened and Elizabeth brushed her lips across his chest in a delicate, open-mouthed kiss.

"Elizabeth!" he hissed. Before she realized it, the pins holding her hair were furiously thrown to the floor and his hands were deep in her hair.

Will pulled her away from his chest and kissed her long and deeply as one of his hands cupped a breast. He brushed his thumb across the hardened nipple and then reached behind her to undo the fastenings of her dress. His dextrous hands managed to loosen her dress enough to pull her bodice down and free her breasts. Elizabeth's pulse raced faster as Will bent down to take a nipple in his mouth and applied a hand to the other. She laced her hands through his hair, holding his head to her chest.

Time seemed to freeze and she watched, more aroused than ever, as he tugged her dress down her body and his lips followed the path taken by the fabric. The dress went down past her hips and he kissed her stomach. Then the dress fell down her legs and onto the floor, and his lips were at her hips and then just above the junction at her thighs.

Will stood suddenly and wordlessly guided her to the corner where his simple, narrow bed was tucked away. He maneuvered them so that the frame bumped the backs of her legs and she fell inelegantly onto the bed. Smiling, he took a moment to study her moonlit body, so much smaller than her strong, bold personality would suggest. Elizabeth didn't shy away from his eyes. Instead, she sat up on the edge of the bed, lifted an eyebrow and looked pointedly at his trousers. Will knew what was expected of him and quickly removed his last confining article of clothing. Slowly, he knelt in front of her and held her face in his hands.

He knew what she would say and exactly why she paid him a visit at night. And yet he still had to say the words. "Elizabeth, you know I can wait until the wedding," he said.

"But I can't." Her voice, playful but seductive, sent electricity down his spine. She wrapped her arms around his neck and, with those full lips brushing against his ear, whispered, "I've dreamt of it and it hurts to wait so long. I'm tired of telling you I love you and need you. I want to show you." And then she decided to tell him what would have satisfied her hunger earlier that day. "I want to feel your mouth move across my skin. I want to feel your naked chest and thighs against mine. I want to hear you moan my name and cry out. I want you to want me and need me as much as I want and need you, and I want to feel you stretch and fill me as you enter me. And I want to hang propriety."

She punctuated her last point by pressing her breasts against him and wrapping her legs around his waist, bringing her moist center in contact with his throbbing erection. He nearly came right then. Instead, he pulled away from her and removed her arms from his neck. Elizabeth, confused, met his eyes and stared at him. He smiled and said, "Then let us hang propriety."

His face was largely obscured by night time shadows, but Elizabeth didn't have to see his face to know he was drinking in the sight of her swollen parted lips and the rising and falling of her chest. "Will..."

"I love you," he said. "I always have and I always will."

Without waiting for a response, Will began a trail of kisses that mirrored his earlier one, beginning at her neck and breasts and then falling down her stomach. But this time, he did not stop. Elizabeth watched him with heavy-lidded eyes as he urged her knees farther apart and placed kisses on the insides of her thighs. And then his lips were there and her eyes closed and her head fell back, mouth parted in a silent "oh".

She fisted the sheets and sank back from her sitting position onto her elbows. When his tongue darted inside her, her back arched and her breath came in short, desperate pants. "Will!"

A finger joined his tongue, and then another, and soon Elizabeth was crying out and reaching for him, all but begging him to end the torture. And then she was upon the edge and then over the edge and gasping his name.

Will left his kneeling position and leaned over her. He kissed her and she could taste herself, and the curious tang aroused her again. Most of his weight was on her now and she could feel the pulsing, hard length of him trapped between her stomach and his. It was a little surprising; she had not expected him to be so hard with skin so smooth, nor did she expect it to feel so hot. He laced his fingers through hers and brought their hands above her head, effectively pinning her to the mattress. He rocked against her, mindless of the sheen of sweat that had begun to cover their bodies.

Elizabeth pulled one hand free and reached for him, taking him into her hand. Will buried his face into her neck and sighed as her fingertips ran up and down his aching length, from base to tip. Instinctively, his hips bucked against her hand and bumped his moist tip against her forearm. Smiling at the reversal of control, she wrapped her fingers around him and began to stroke him firmly but gently.

"Elizabeth," he gasped. "Please, stop. Stop before I..."

She merely quickened her movements and felt his body tense against hers as he bit back a soft grunt. Something warm and wet spilled onto her stomach.

"Oh Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Will mumbled into her neck. He lifted himself off of her and reached for the nearby discarded shirt to clean up his mess.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked as he wiped her skin and placed a kiss on her waist. "If I didn't want that to happen, I would've stopped."

Will looked up at her confession and smiled. "I know. But still..."

Elizabeth grabbed his hand and pulled him to her. "Oh, don't tell me you think we're done for the evening," she said slyly. She licked her lips and pressed her thigh against his softened manhood. He was still half hard and she knew it wouldn't be long before the other half caught up. She pulled one of his hands back to her breasts and leaned back on the bed, pulling him down beside her. It clearly wasn't built to be wide enough for two people, but that didn't stop them. "I want to touch the rest of you," she said. "And I know you want the same."

And oh did he.

Before long, Will was once again short of breath and aching to sheath himself inside her. He had been prepared to do so, until Elizabeth managed to flip them over so that he was on his back. She straddled his waist and looked down on his gloriously naked, sweat-soaked body. The moonlight illuminated most of him in this position and she knew he had a clear view of her. Perfect. Will understood what she was up to, which was good because he was braced and prepared for it when she lowered herself and sank down on to him.

Elizabeth gasped silently at the unfamiliar sensation of being filled. It was painful but, she decided, far from unpleasant. It was wonderful, in fact. When she moved against him, they both gasped and Will's head fell back against the mattress.

"Elizabeth," he moaned from behind clenched teeth. "Oh, God, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth leaned backward, bracing her hands on his thighs as she arched her back and rocked harder against him. And harder again. The bed creaked indignantly and banged against the wall. Will's hips surged off of the bed to meet hers, trying to bury himself deeper in her. She moved faster and dug her nails into his thighs. His hands moved to her breasts and down to where they were joined and Elizabeth felt herself spiraling out of control. And then it was over and in a more spectacular fashion than before. She came with a cry and felt Will follow her soon after.

Elizabeth collapsed on top of him, panting. Her hair fell around them, curtaining them off from the rest of the world. She shifted so she no longer straddled him and realized he was still inside her, soft but not uncomfortable. They lay together for a while, their breathing the only sound in an otherwise silent world. Will ran one hand up and down her bare back and she was content to just lay on top of him and breathe in his scent. He'd always smelled of hay and smoke with just a hint of the sea, but now he smelled a little of her, too. Or maybe it was just that she now smelled like him.

"Oh no."

"What?" Elizabeth lifted her head, alarmed.

"The windows are open and we weren't exactly quiet. What if someone heard? Your reputation would be- Oh, and if your father were to find out, he'd lecture the both of us on the importance of propriety!"

"Are you serious?" Elizabeth asked, fighting the urge to laugh. "Your number one thought right now isn't, 'There's a naked woman in my bed,' but is instead, 'I hope my future father-in-law doesn't find out,'?"

His eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Yes! Elizabeth, I love you but this isn't exactly proper behavior."

"Will, shut up. Hang propriety."

Will fell silent, then laughed. "As my lady commands."

"Good plan." And Elizabeth kissed him