I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I couldn't even come close to writing something as incredibly integrated and twisting as they have, so I only wrote a short one-shot. Enjoy, and if my rating is wrong, let me know. I've read some T's that were pretty close to this, but I wanted to go with M. BTW, Elizabeth may seem a little OOC but there IS a reason for that.

Enjoy.

"Welcome to the Caribbean, love." The back of his hand pushed into her breast as he passed her some rum and walked off. She sensed that he was only trying to get a rise out of her, so she didn't say anything. She merely stared in despair at the bottle in her hand. After a moment her eyes narrowed, and she looked up in thought.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Jack was smiling. He was asleep, but he was smiling. It was a very slick grin, one full of humor, mischief, and promise that could and had wooed the souls of much female population.

"To freedom," she said, raising her bottle.

His eyes zeroed in, focusing for a fraction of a second, before rose his own slowly and deliberately to clink hers. "To the Black Pearl."

They took a big long swig. Jack finished first and spent his time scrutinizing his companion. His very sober, hawk-like eyes caught everything, from her sluggish eyelids to the inability to keep her head from swaying even the smallest amount.

He reached across her, his hands brushing against her bosom once more. The first time he had done so, she hadn't reacted at all. He would have taken anger, had expected it even. But she had done nothing, merely caught up with him as she calmly uncorked her bottle and took a swig like a pro, though he sensed her not to be. That was that, how they ended up around this fire drinking up a party.

She tensed, but he acted like he didn't notice. "Now bonny lass, I think you've had quite enough," he said taking the bottle from her.

Her lips formed a tiny pout, before her addled brain bounced on to something else. "You know," she started, falling into him, not entirely on purpose, "It must be sooo tiring being a pirate of your magnitude, Jack."

Almost idly, he wondered where she was going with this as he once again wrapped his arm behind her back, cautiously. "It's a great job that needs to be filled."

She didn't seem to notice his arm as she let out a sigh. "Poor Mister Jack Sparrow."

"Captain," he corrected stiffly.

She didn't even hear it though as she spun around to face him. "You're constantly under pressure, sometimes you're looked up to as the leader-"

He removed his arm from her, "I'm always looked to for leading."

"-nearly everyone hates you-"

Jack's mood was quickly being killed. "I'm loved by all."

"-your always lying your way out of situations, which must be exhausting to keep up-"

He didn't bother correcting her on that.

"-and sometimes, even I can't stand you," she said with honesty.

"No one's stopping your leaving," he said, gesturing flamboyantly to the wide island and vast ocean. She turned to him, as if she hadn't heard him at all.

"I've never met any man like you, Captain Jack Sparrow," she said.

His ears perked up, and like that, with the mere whisper of her husky voice and gaze of her intense eyes, he was instantly on his game again. He snaked his arm around her shoulders, his fingers, as if sensing their broadened permission, slowly started caressing her shoulder this time. She leaned into him, causing his lower stomach to spasm in delight. It lasted only a moment though, before she was pulling away again.

Her eyes looked up at him from beneath her lashes, almost shyly. "Jack, if you don't mind, I would very much like to give you something."

His eyebrows rose and his mouth quirked a little in amusement at her tactics. If that was what they were calling it these days, far be it from him to stop her. He spread his arms wide, turning his torso so that it faced her. "I'm all yours, love."

She laughed a little, and stood up on unsteady legs. He didn't try to keep the frown from his face as he watched until she walked out of his line of sight.

He let out a sardonic smirk, and raised his bottle to take his first drink. It was going to be a long night. He almost spit his precious rum all over the fire when he felt small hands on his shoulders.

"What, dear bonny lass, are you up to now?"

"I'm giving your tired, sore muscles a massage. Being a captain must be like wearing a corset, and my muscles are always tired after wearing a corset," she replied simply as she dropped ungracefully to the ground, her knees snug against him on either side of his waist.

"Ah," Jack said, highly entertained by her logic. He was amused, yet slightly disappointed. This was going to be harder than he thought. He chose his words carefully. Well, as carefully as Captain Jack Sparrow could. "Wouldn't there be more pertinent places that be in needing of a good massage now than the ones you so currently possess in your capable hands?"

"Nope."

He let out a small sigh. "Fine then, give me your massage. Have your wicked ways with me."

She let out a small giggle. "I know what you mean. I feel so…"

"Prudent?" Jack supplied.

She only laughed and hit him before getting to work, and Jack had to stop himself from groaning. She really was a god, nay, goddess with those hands. She hadn't touched anything but his shoulders, and he felt himself coming undone. He shifted a little.

"You give back-rubs often, love?"

"Just myself. It's easy to tell if you're doing wrong and how to fix it."

Jack shifted again. Her fingers wound up his sensitive neck, and then down again along the dip between his shoulder blades. This wasn't heaven, this was torture. He needed to stop her, soon. "Aye, but if you give yourself said back-rub, I bet there's always that one spot you can't reach?"

Her hands paused as she let out a small sigh. "Yes, I suppose-"

That was all Jack needed. He leaned forward and turned around. His eyes locked onto hers and he smiled. "Miss Swan, may I have the pleasure of being the first to give you your very own massage?"

She was frozen, still on her knees.

"I promise," he continued with a grin as he sensed her hesitation, "It'll be much better than giving one to one's own self."

She debated a moment longer before she nodded. She turned her back to him.

His eyes trailed down her spine. "Why don't you lie down," he suggested silkily.

Her head jerked around. "In the sand?"

His eyebrows quirked as he fought to keep his smile down. "Do you have a problem with said sand?"

She bit her plush lip. "No…I guess not."

She was frowning still, as she laid belly-down in the sand. Jack's stomach muscles jerked again, almost quivering at the site she presented. She folded her arms and rested her forehead on them.

Jack threw one leg over her, noticing her tense but choosing to ignore it. He settled himself lightly over her upper thighs. He leaned forward over her until he was next to her ears as he whispered, "Where do you usually start, love?"

"O-on the back – I mean, neck. I u-usually start on the…" her words trailed off as his calloused fingers kneaded the line of her neck. She let out a soft sigh, slowly relaxing from her rigid posture.

Jack leaned to the side a little to see her face. She had her eyes closed. He grinned and straightened.

"Where next?" he asked huskily.

"I work my way down…" she responded quietly.

Never give a pirate free reign. Jack was more than willing to acquiesce to her needs.

His hands worked on her tense shoulder muscles longer than he planned. He was surprised at how knotted they actually were, but even more surprised that he cared enough to bother.

She was practically putty now, shifting every now and then so that she had Jack smirking knowingly.

It was now the opportune moment.

His hands move along her spine, going below her shoulder blades. She tensed once again.

He leaned forward and spoke in her ear once again, surprising himself at the deepness of his voice. "Shoulder and neck massages are swell, but do you ever give your most used back muscles attention too?"

"N-no."

His hands continued their lower descent, from the middle of her spine and spreading out to the outer-most edges of her ribs. "What a shame, they work hard."

She didn't respond, but a small groan escaped her lips when he reached her lower back. It went straight to him and traveled very south. He was practically pulsing.

His hands and mouth seemed to grow a mind of their own. They paused on her lower back, splayed out, before they slowly slid farther down. His hands didn't stop as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I bet you never get the most worked muscle of all."

She let out a very loud gasp as they met the swell of her bum. They travelled down the gentle, firm swells until they reached the top of her thighs where he was sitting and then travelled back up, repeating the process over and over again. He leaned over and kissed the first dimple at the top of her rear, and then its sister on the other side.

She was squirming noticeably now.

He let his thumb slid up the crevice in the middle, and her hips jerked as she let out a very audible moan.

Suddenly he stood up on his knees and spun her over.

Her breathing was coming heavily as she looked up at him dazed. His gaze dropped down to watch her heaving chest. The sweat had made the sand stick to all her bare skin there above the chemise line.

She looked down too and scowled.

"Stupid itchy sand," she said as she stood up. To Jack's surprise, she started brushing herself off, starting at the bottom, working her way along the stomach, and going until she reached the bared skin of her chest. He followed the sand as it was brushed off and disappeared under the material.

He cleared his throat. "Ah, may I point out that you…missed a spot."

"Where?"

He pointed and she started brushing it off.

"No, it's lower now."

She moved her hands lower.

"Lower, luv," he said huskily.

Her hands moved to the tops of her breasts.

Jack had never been so turned on in his life. "Did I get it?" she questioned.

"No," he said standing up to join her. "Here let me."

Her hands moved out of the way. Jack smiled inwardly as he reached forward. His eyes closed when his hands finally came into contact with the hot, soft mounds. His groin jerked spasmodically. . He had started out as light brushing, keeping up the pretense, but when he opened his eyes and saw hers closed, he quit. His hands and fingers gradually added more pressure, until he was very obviously massaging her breasts. She groaned, her hands coming up to grip his biceps for support.

"Bonny lass," he whispered. She didn't even open her eyes. He continued. "The dress is in the way, luv." Even he wasn't sure if they were still talking about the sand.

Her hands quickly moved behind her, fumbling with the line of numerous buttons.

He turned her around and took over for her. Each button undone, he would kiss her lightly tanned skin, savoring the salty sweet taste of her silky skin. Her back was beautifully shaped, her shoulder blades sticking out, the line of her back well-defined, all leading down to the last button that revealed those twin dimples that had driven him mad. He slid his fingers under the sash, his fingers brushing over her bum as he untied it. He took one in both hands and brought them around to her front, hands splayed over her stomach, chest pressed to her newly exposed back. He stayed there long enough to place a gentle kiss to the spot behind her ear, and then he was leaning back. His eyes hungrily roved over her back. He took his hands and placed them inside the dress on her bare hips. Her skin was so hot and damp. He traveled them up her sides, tickling her ribs, brushing the sides of her bare breasts, and reaching the top of her shoulders. He paused for only a moment before he moved his hands back down the path, taking the dress with them this time. Once it was to her hips, he simply let go, letting it drop to the sand. Goosebumps erupted over her skin. His thumbs caressed small circles on her bare hips as he stepped forward, bringing him flush against her back.

"That's better," he said softly against her ear. Her whole body absolutely shuddered in response. His hands traveled and met over her low belly and moved up as one. When they finally reached her breasts, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He moved them their last bit and started needing, her nipples already hard and erect. Her legs buckled a little, but he held her up.

When she was sufficiently speechless, and he was nearly lost himself, his hands started their downward descent, only one goal in mind. They moved over her ribs and down her quivering stomach and finally reached…

Jack's nose twitched. He sniffed once, twice. His eyes flew open as he sat up.

Smoke, lots of it.

He got up and ran over to the massive fire.

"What are you doing?!" he yelled when he saw Elizabeth, throwing stuff into it.

"I'm making a fire," she responded calmly.

"That's our food, the supplies…the rum," he pointed out.

"Yes, Jack. The rum is gone."

Jack's hands waved around a little. "But why is the rum gone?"

She turned to him suddenly and spoke through clenched teeth. "Because, rum turns even the most respectable men into vile creatures, and even so…all of Britain is looking for me. That fire is over two hundred feet tall. Do you think that there is even the slightest chance that they won't see that?" she didn't wait for him to answer. She sat down, brushing her hands off. "Give it an hour, maybe two, and you'll see white sails on that horizon," she said, already watching the ocean.

Jack jerkily fished the revolver out of his pants and pointed it at her head. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He put it back in his pants and stormed off.

He kept going until he was sure he wouldn't turn back around and strangle her. He looked up at the ocean and saw a ship.

"There'll be no living with her now," he said regretfully.

The end. If I get enough reviews, I may continue this into a full story, but I'm happy with it right now.

Review please.