-1Thanks to all my reviewers!

7.

After young John went up to bed, Elizabeth and Jack sat at the dining room table staring across at each other, so much to say and no idea where to start. An invisible barrier stood between them, and Jack's insides tingled with the urge to rip it down, to take her in his arms and never let go again.

"Would you care to take a walk on the beach?" asked Elizabeth, desperate to escape the stuffy house that had once been her father's. She didn't expect Will back from a business voyage until the following night. Over the years he'd become quite a renowned and collected sword smith; he traveled all over Europe delivering his work. This kept him away from home often, which Elizabeth guiltily was grateful for. Secretly, she was sure that Will too was happy to get away.

"That would be agreeable," answered Jack, pushing out the intricately carved chair to stand. Although eating on fine china could be a fun novelty, he never felt entirely comfortable with it, unless he'd stolen it himself.

They walked to the beach in silence. Elizabeth wore a cloak to shield from the cold, it whispered around her with the soft sea breeze. Not able to stand the silence any longer, Jack said, "So who taught John how to handle a sword so fiercely, love? You, or Will?"

Relieved to hear something besides the forlorn sound of waves breaking on the sand, she replied, "I did. Will was hardly ever home, with his swords in such high demand. He still isn't."

Jack felt awkward, feeling partly responsible for the notes of sadness in her voice. Why hadn't he come sooner, taken her, and even the babe away, when they were still young? "I'm…sorry."

"I'm not really," she admitted, suspecting he was apologizing for more than what was said, but ignoring for the time. "I can't say we've had a terribly happy marriage, though not a bad one. Ever since we disembarked from the Pearl, it felt as though some sort of barrier were between us, unspoken words hanging in the air neither of us could neither say nor identify. And as time passed and John grew, we drifted farther apart than we already were."

Though he never said a word, Elizabeth was sure Will knew John was not theirs, but she and Jack's. The more John grew, the more he resembled his true father, in both looks and mannerisms. Still, because Will was far more a saint than Elizabeth could ever hope to be, he never showed any sign of resentment to the boy, and loved him as dearly as his own.

"You raised…a fine young man, Elizabeth." Our son. Although he was getting more accustomed to the fact, it still seemed to catch in the pirate's throat. Jack recalled their delightful dinner: the boy's charming wit and sharp tongue made amusing company for a pirate. He smiled to himself, remembering John sneaking zips from the rum carafe while his mother wasn't looking, winking at Jack whilst he committed the act. He also recollected a strange sort of pride welling in his breast, when he told a few of his newest outlandish stories, and the boy listened so intently. John even shared a few of his own, of which by Elizabeth's expression, she'd never heard before herself.

Elizabeth sighed, crossing her arms to shield from the cold, and the chills caused by completely different reasons. She turned her eyes up to meet his, finding those dark eyes still captivated her, pulled at her heart strings. "I wanted you to be here, Jack. I wanted you to see your son grow. I knew he was yours, there was no doubt in my mind. "He was so clever and crafty and mischievous and no one could resist loving him for the wonderful boy he is. He loves the sea, more than anything else. Will took him to England once, and I remember how thrilled he was with the journey, how utterly infatuated with sailing across the ocean. And he would take the greatest pleasure in stealing things as a child, not just for the pleasure of having it, but to see if he could get away with it.

"Sometimes we would catch him with a piece of the good silver, or some trinket from the drawing room shelf, or even my jewelry, but lord knows what we didn't catch him with. Oh, and his lies! He lies like a silver tongued devil, without remorse, but he gives that irresistible grin an you can't help but forgive him…the girls already chase him up and down the wharf. It's impossible to keep him away from the docks, it always has been. Any time Will wanted help in the forge, John would disappear, and come home smelling like fish and sea salt and all sorts of things from the docks, pitching in a hand to the moored ships just for fun. He's a pirate, Jack. Scarier yet, he's not just a pirate, he's a pirate like you."

Jack closed his eyes, feeling dizzy for a moment, allowing the familiar smell of salt in the breeze to calm him. He wasn't quite sure how to define the emotions he felt at the moment, deep in his chest. The closest he could come to classifying them was regret. "I wish I'd known, love. I guess I always thought if you wanted me around, you would've found me. I just assumed you and Will was happy as ducks in a pond. Ask Gibbs 'ow many times he persuaded me out of storming Port Royal, after I'd had a bit too much rum."

Elizabeth laughed, but it leaned closely to resembling a half-sob. Tentatively, she reached up to trace the lines of Jack's face, a visage she'd missed so sorely. The only real signs of the years past were streaks of silver coming through his jet black dreads, and the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Jack found himself closing his eyes again, savoring her touch. "I can't tell you how many times I walked this beach at night, wishing to see the Pearl ease into the docks under the cover of darkness. I told the wind to tell you I wanted you; I guess you never got the message.

Unable to stand it any longer, Jack pulled Elizabeth to him, reveling in the warmth of her body against his, the long missed sensation. "And why no more babes for you and young Will? He's not really a eunuch, is he?"

Elizabeth laughed; the sound was muffled against his chest, where she'd happily buried her head. "No, I'm afraid not. I've always assumed there were certain complications after John's birth that prevented such things. We never paid it much mind, though, with John being such a handful. I once had nightmares of him being twins. But what can one expect, from the son of Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jack smiled to himself, resting his head atop hers. "You mean, the son of Captain Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann."

"I'm not a Swann anymore, Jack," she said wistfully.

Jack leaned back to look at her, cocking one eyebrow mischievously. "You couldn't tell by me, love."

So happy to see Jack again, not sure how long this guilty pleasure would be around, Elizabeth rested her head in the bend of his neck, inhaling deeply. He still smelled the same, of sweat and the sea, of spices and of course rum. Time may have begun to turn his hair silver, but it didn't seem to have touched his still lithe body, so many years of climbing around a ship still keeping his muscles toned. She wanted to pull his body around hers like a blanket, and not come out again for a very long time.

"So why did you come back, Jack?" she dared ask.

Jack had been thoroughly enjoying the moment of holding her in his arms, and didn't want to end it to speak of his misfortune, and John's, with the sea witch. But it was the danger at hand, so reluctantly, he addressed it. "I had a run in with a scabby dog round abouts Asia, which led to a bit of a tussle, and me killing said dog. Turns out he 'ad a bit of a powerful witch for a mother. She sent me a dream, sayin' if me son ever set foot on a ship over her sea, she'd take 'im for herself. Now I didn't think I 'ad a son, but just in case I went to pay a visit to Tia Dalma…and here I am, love."

Elizabeth pulled back, eyes wide with alarm. "Oh God, Jack, John will never leave the sea once he gets the chance! What should we do? Did Tia Dalma say?"

"We'll figure out something, love," Jack assured her. "He's not going anywhere now, so we 'ave time."

The pair walked back to the house, enjoying holding each other's hand in the dark. As silent as sneaking pirates can be, they slipped into the house, and padded down the hall to Elizabeth's bedroom. But in their stealthy walk through the house, they failed to notice a small chest resting on the dining room table, with a note resting atop it addressed to Mother.

There they stood, silent once again, eyes questioning each other without a word. Will she invite me in, Jack wondered? Do I really need an invitation? He could see her hesitance, probably thinking of Will finding them together.

"Jack…" Elizabeth broke the silence, and spoke quietly, eyes traveling everywhere around . "I've already betrayed Will so harshly, and he'll be back tomorrow…" Her heart screamed at her, cursed her for uttering the words, when the man she loved so dearly stood before her after so many years.

Jack's heart dropped to his feet. "As you wish, love," he said sorrowfully, catching her meaning. Hooking a finger under her chin, he turned her face up to his. "But whether it be Will or yourself, you'll always be betrayin' someone in this mess. It's the way it is, it seems." Because he couldn't restrain himself any longer, Jack slid his long fingers into her hair, gripping the base of her skull to pull Elizabeth's mouth to his. His lips slid across hers so delectably, tongue teasing her own, a slick wetness between her lips.

Something broke in Elizabeth; what ever walls of propriety she'd built over the years to restrain her true nature came crashing down to the wave of passion she felt for Jack at that moment. With one hand finding the warmth at the base of his neck, and the other gripping his vest, she pulled his body against hers, deepening the kiss, as though she wanted to drink down every touch she'd missed over the years in a single moment. The motion rocked Jack off balance, sending them crashing into the wall. Feeling Jack's body pressing her into the wall behind her, his lips on her skin and his hands on her body, Elizabeth cared not about the noise they made, at least for the moment.

No longer willing to take no for an answer, Jack scooped Elizabeth up in his arms and carried her to her room, kicking the door shut with a booted foot. The action reminded them both of their first night together, and both were determined to have a second.

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