A/N-I'll confess, I'm having a difficult time finding my "Jeller feels" right now, but this AU is a happy place for me to play in, so I'm still going. My heart needs this weird story (and all the stories out there) right now. So, here's another chapter. I hope a few of you are still enjoying in spite of my weirdness and the slow pace of posts.


Chapter 7: Jane and Kurt

Early that same evening, Jane gathered her clothes from the rocks. The linen shirt and long underpants were dry, although other pieces of her clothing were still damp. She pulled the dry clothes on and carried the rest. Kurt was only just climbing out of the water, and she said, "I'll go on ahead and get the fire going."

Before he had a chance to answer, she grabbed one of the water buckets they'd filled and hurried down to camp. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to go off on her own. She wasn't regretful, unhappy, or ashamed, but yet she wanted a few moments of solitude.

She started the fire and then saw a large fish in one of the tidal pools. Locating a few crabs near the surf, she put them in their cooking bucket and thought they might celebrate their newly finished shelter with a nice meal. After the way they'd spent their day, she was ravenous.

Once she returned from retrieving the fish from the trap, she saw Kurt on the floor of their shelter with the few books they'd managed to salvage on the ground in front of him. At first, she assumed he'd found the map she'd started a few days earlier. She'd taken pages that had had the ink washed away or the blank back sides of pages and tied them together with bits of twine to make a map from what she'd surveyed around the island. She had a good idea of their location based on where they had been when they were attacked.

It wasn't the map that had caught his interest, however. She heard him struggling over a word, "Su—suff—suff—"

She dropped down on one knee next to him, startling him. The way he was lost in his reading made her fondly remember their days reading in her cabin. She missed her ship almost as much as she missed her child. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she assisted him with the word. "Sufficiently."

"Sufficiently," he nodded in gratitude.

"You know how to read?" she asked, testing his recollection.

"Only a little, it seems."

She swiveled to face him, "Do you remember when I taught you?"

"You taught me?"

"Yes. We used to read together nightly."

He gazed at her like he was reaching into her mind, and she stood and backed away. His ability to see her was sometimes deeply disconcerting. "We should eat," she quickly said, and they went about preparing their meal.


After dinner, they sat at the edge of the shelter, looking down to the beach as they watched the evening waves curl to the shore. Each had a small cup of rum to enjoy, as had seemed to become their tradition. "I'd like to ask you a question. But I don't want to offend or compel you to leave," he said. "But I want to ask anyway. So I'll ask, and if you don't want to answer, just…don't."

Glancing across her shoulder toward him, she nodded succinctly, then stared back at the water to brace for the question.

"What happened to your daughter? Why are you separated?"

Jane exhaled heavily, the ache in her chest never seemed to leave, but felt a bit heavier as she considered her response. Suspecting her moment of thought was a refusal to answer, he started a different topic. "I saw your map. Tomorrow we could—"

"I believe she's in a convent," Jane answered loudly.

"Your daughter?" he sounded as stunned that she'd begun to answer as she felt.

"Yes. She's been housed in different locations from what I have gathered. Monasteries, orphanages, the home of a wealthy Lord that Briggs had under her thumb. She's been moved frequently…now I believe she's in a convent on a secluded island so that I will not find her. She was taken from me not long after she was born."

"By whom?"

Jane cleared her throat. "Captain Briggs. I fought…believe me I tried to fight."

"I'm sure she's a formidable opponent."

"It was more than that. I would have fought to the death to protect my child. Briggs found me moments after I gave birth, which I suspect was her intention. It had been a rough delivery. The midwife told me she was surprised both the child and I survived. I was white as a ghost and weak as a baby myself, they told me. Briggs found me, came in while I was sleeping with my child lying on my chest. When I woke, she ripped the infant from my arms. I hurried from the bed, but my body was so frail I fell to the ground. When I finally stood, she was laughing at me, at my lack of strength. Her first mate hit me with the butt of his rifle, and I was knocked out cold to the ground. When I woke, they were gone. The nurse tried to tend to me, but…I bandaged my wounds and paid a lad to help get me out of there. I've been looking for my little girl every day since."

Jane had no idea what to expect of him, although with what little she knew, she already guessed his reaction would be a kind one. When she turned, the fading sun glinted against faint streaks down his face. He looked away quickly, shaking his head. "Briggs is a monster," he muttered.

"I failed my child. I have never, and will never, be so weak again."

"That's not failure or weakness," he snapped. "It wasn't your fault. What she did was unforgivable. What kind of person can take a newborn child from her sleeping mother's arms?"

"It was my fault. I know exactly how unscrupulous people can be. If only I'd found a safer place, been more cautious. If I get her back, I will keep her safe. I will give her a better life."

"We will find your child, no matter the cost. And Briggs will pay."

He rested his fingers on her shoulder nearest him. It was reassuring, but he wasn't treating her like someone to be pitied, not like some wispy woman unable to protect herself or her offspring. The only thing he seemed to offer was understanding. As the reality of his tears hit her, and the fact that he'd allowed them to fall, she felt her eyes burning with sadness as she, too, allowed a few droplets to escape. He just remained there, like a steady boulder in the center of the drifting sand.

After quite some time, she leaned against him, and his arm circled her back. Oddly enough, she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.


When she woke, she realized the he'd carried her into the shelter and placed her on the palm mats they'd made. She thought for a moment that she should have been alarmed to sleep through the moment when he'd moved her, since she typically woke at the slightest disturbance. He was near, but had given her a little space between them, a move that seemed to be intentional on his part.

Watching him sleep filled her with a warmly affectionate feeling, and she wondered if he'd watched her and felt anything similar. With each passing day, leaving the island was going to become more difficult. As the rising sun peered through the openings between the boards of their shelter, she knew she had to tell him the truth of who he was, and who she was, and exactly what had happened between them. She hoped that as his memory came back, he'd remember that he didn't hate her once they'd been together for a while. If she waited until they left the island to come clean, it was always possible that he'd be upset and disappear into the vastness of the world before she had time to explain.

Still, even the thought that he'd run away sent her a pang of worry. She'd grown quite attached to him, and there was no point in denying that, or trying to stop it. Days without him sounded far more miserable than days with him.

He was sprawled out more openly than he typically had been when she'd found him sleeping on the ship. Maybe he, too, felt freer in this life. Seeing him like that, she decided that before trying to explain their past to him, she wanted one more lovely day. Hopefully she could store up these memories in case he became more distant once she'd explained everything.

He'd slept in only his undershorts, and was otherwise unclothed. She studied his half-naked form, the shapes of his arms, the metered rise and fall of his stomach as he breathed. Although he was barely covered, she couldn't help but wish he wasn't wearing the only garment he'd bothered to put on.

She scooted closer, and, trying to shift the mat beneath him as little as possible, lay down next to him. Her palm pressed flat against his chest, feeling his heart, his breath, those indicators of life that were taken for granted but somehow had an undeniable power. She slowly ran her fingertips down his torso, enjoying the closeness of someone she'd purposefully avoided touching not so long ago.

Glancing at his face, she stifled a laugh when she saw the fluttering of his eyelids that made it seem clear that he was either only half-sleeping or perhaps fully awake. She opened the ties on his pants, her lips brushing over his shoulder and onto his upper arm. Her hand moved beneath the pants, sliding across his hip before her fingers skimmed over his ass, and she saw prickles emerge along his skin. Her teeth raked over his nipple as she heard a stuttered grunt in his chest.

It was endearing, the way he tried to carefully lean onto his back to give her better access to his body, trying to make it look like the involuntary shifts of a sleeping man. She took advantage of his compliance to lower those inconvenient clothes. Her fingers moved from the soft spot behind his knee, pressing into his inner thigh while she scooted further down his body. Of course he couldn't fully hide his reaction to her, his cock already stirring at her closeness.

Making sure his eyes were still closed with the pretense of sleep, she moved quickly. She twisted and slipped out of her clothes, wanting to feel the heat of his body against her skin. In a heartbeat, she wrapped her lips around his sex, covering him as fully as possible with her mouth as his hands formed fists and he inhaled so sharply it was as if he were stabbed. Once in her mouth, there was no more restraint in the response of his body. He stretched out, the soft whimpers and groans emerging unhindered.

Feeling a little impish, she slid up his body, pausing her attentions. Pinching his earlobe between her teeth, she asked, "Is it alright if I continue?"

"Aye, Captain," he simultaneously chuckled and groaned as he pulled her body flush against him, his erection pressing against her and making her desperately want him inside her.

But his words cut through the hypnotic fog of want she felt, and for only a second, she didn't understand why. She placed her hands on his chest to give a bit of space with which to think. He no longer kept up the pretense of sleep, staring right into her eyes like a man with an urgent need. And with her next drawn breath, she realized what had sounded so strange.

She froze, then pushed harder against his chest and struggled to free herself from his arms until he let go.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes pleading his body's case.

She hurriedly moved away, standing abruptly, grabbing her discarded shirt and holding it in front of her. "You knew," she stated, her voice emerging with icy accusation.

"Knew what?" he asked with attempted innocence. Clearly realizing he'd been discovered, he slowly nodded. "Let me explain—"

"No," she interrupted, backing farther away. Perhaps she should have felt relieved, but she was too stunned and perplexed to allow relief. "How long have you known? Did you ever truly lose your memory, or was that all some game for your amusement? Or perhaps a ploy to manipulate me?"

He sat up, obviously frustrated and trying to activate his mind so he could respond. "I did forget. When we first got here, I had no idea who you were. I swear it."

She leaned against the wall, as far away from him as she could possibly be while still remaining inside the shelter. "When did you remember?" she asked, feeling fury roil within her.

"Not too long after we arrived. A couple of days," he confessed.

"And you withheld this information for what purpose? This was part of some attempt to bed me? Or you hoped to, what, gain my trust and garner the upper hand?"

"Wait a minute," he countered, shaking his head. "That's unfair. You also withheld the truth, if you remember. You could have told me who you were. So perhaps the real question is, why didn't you come forward with an explanation?"

Her mouth opened for a second as she grappled for words. She hadn't even considered that he may counter her question with the same. A thousand wonderful, pirate-worthy retorts came to mind, but seemed poorly placed at that particular time and place. "I'll answer your question after you answer mine."

He sighed lowly, but replied, "You seemed different…happier here on this island. You were fonder of me, or so it seemed. I've cared for you for a while now. I thought if you were happier here with me, just 'Jane and Kurt' instead of 'Captain Doe and Weller,' what harm was there in allowing you to feel that way? Everything seemed better between us once we'd been stripped of those roles. I didn't lie, I just didn't fully share the extent of my memories."

She paused, staring at the floor as her mouth twisted with thought. Finally she looked up at him, accepting his explanation with only a nod.

"You are happier here, aren't you?" he asked.

"Perhaps," she reluctantly mumbled.

"And now you," he insisted. "Why didn't you explain everything to me? Why didn't you tell me I was under your authority, or regale me with stories to make me fear you?"

This conversation was ridiculous. She was far too used to simply walking away from any question she didn't like, or swiftly silencing any man who dared to ask questions she didn't wish to hear. She wasn't sure if caving and replying with the truth made her weaker or stronger.

Rolling her eyes to the side, unable to face him just yet, she answered him. "You were right. I like being here with you, just Jane and Kurt. I am happier here. I enjoy acting as if we're simply two ordinary people in an extraordinary situation. I wasn't sure how you'd feel once you knew the truth. I know you despise pirates, I kept you as my captive, forced you to join up with the very people you hated. It wasn't easy news to share."

"Perhaps you're the one with some missing memories."

"My memories are all intact," she scoffed irritably.

"I cared for you. Even on your ship. You must know that."

"You hated me."

"At first, yes, I admit that. But in time, I realized I hated Briggs. I hated her cruelty. But you—you are not Briggs, at least…not to me. We worked together, protected each other. We became allies and companions. Each night, as you sat patiently with me and taught me to read and write…I saw who you truly were, no matter what other people might see when they look at you."

"It was just a way to pass time."

"No it wasn't," he argued immediately. "And neither was reading to me each night, letting me sit next to you in your bed, looking over your shoulder to follow along. Every day I waited for those quiet moments, alone and close to you in your cabin."

"I did too," she admitted, her voice scarcely able to be heard.

He stood, kicking his pants away from his ankles. "Do you have any idea at all how badly I wanted to stay in your bed with you after you were done each night?" He approached, tentatively at first, until she relaxed into place and made it clear that she was going to allow him near. "Did you? Did you ever want me to stay in your bed? To let me kiss you? And touch you?"

Biting her lip for a moment, she lifted her chin to face him without hesitation. "That. And more."

He looked awkwardly shy, simultaneously blushing and cocky. "How much more?"

She knew her returned smile was seductive and devilish by his reaction when he saw it. "A great deal more."

"Perhaps it would be best if you showed me?" he asked with a tone of the utmost seriousness. "So that I'm certain I understand."

"Perhaps," she replied, her lips gently meeting his for a flash of time before the kiss consumed them.

He eagerly ripped away the garment she held in front of herself, lifting her until her neck was brought to his mouth, ravishing her bare shoulder and the flat of her chest like this would be the last moment he'd ever have with a woman in his arms. She felt the smooth stone against her shoulder blades as he lifted her higher, his tongue dancing circles over her breast before nipping at the perked peaks that beckoned him.

"Wait," she ordered, pushing him back again. Their lips were both ruddy and glistening from their impassioned meeting, each breathless and overwhelmingly aroused. He looked stunned and frustrated on top of it all.

She held a hand out, and argued, "I will have to be Captain Doe again one day. And soon. You understand that?"

He shook his head, "No—"

"Yes. That is who I am. I'll have to get a ship, bring my daughter home. All of this here…this is a dream, a reprieve from life that will not last forever."

She expected his retreat, a thought that deeply depressed her. He came close again, refusing to be dissuaded, carefully allowing his hand to slide around her body and pull her fully into his embrace. He kissed her forehead, her temple, and the tip of her nose before he smiled affectionately. "You…are so much more than that. We'll figure it all out. Together. That hasn't changed. It won't change."

She shook her head and thought of contradicting, but next he kissed her lips, his hands sliding down to knead her ass before he lowered their bodies to the ground.

She wondered how a touch could feel desperate and tender without one sensation overriding the other. She'd accepted that she enjoyed his body, and the things he did with it. The feeling of him was already difficult to deny, even if there weren't entanglements of the heart involved. But she wasn't certain she could have one without the other.

"We can and will work this all out," he reassured again, his lips and the warm press of his hard body enticing her to agreement.

The tip of her index finger was powerful enough to convince him to lie flat on his back while she settled over him. There was little point in trying to resist because, ultimately, she didn't wish to.

With one hand splayed across his ribs and the other on his sex, she lowered her body and guided him inside. Once she'd taken him entirely into her, the sound of her unconstrained feminine whimper foreign to her ears, she remained there for a few seconds. Blissfully unaware of anything but her body clinging tightly around him, she appreciated the hot thickness of him within her. And as she opened her eyes and saw his awed expression, staring with not only desire, but admiration and kindness, she commanded, "Don't look at me."

He chuckled softly, sitting up and drawing her chest close to his. "Why?"

His knees fell open and she sat in the cradle of his thighs. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder while his fingers soothed her back. "Because we're not looking right now. We're fucking," she insisted, attempting but failing to remain reproaching.

"I can do both. I'll teach you."

She lifted her head, unable to discern his mood from his tone. She found his steadfastly smiling eyes.

He continued, his fingers surrounding the back of her neck, "How could I turn away from this?"

He pulled her hands around his neck until her forearms rested on his shoulders, his palms slipping to the outsides of her thighs. She lifted up slowly and seductively, her hips doing most of the moving for both of them, hoping the pleasure would silence him. It halted his words, although the groan he replied with sent permeated chills all through her.

As their patience waned, he moved more. He understood how to be with her without being entirely passive or dominant, how to meld and connect with her body without controlling her. She leaned back only a little so she could feel him bump against the front wall of her core, and that alone almost finished her. Her breaths became shallower as her chest and abdomen tightened, and she tried to hold back, even if only for a few more moments.

Because she'd leaned back, he reached his thumb to the spot just above where they met. Only the pad of his thumb circled there, hot and soaked with excitement. She dropped her torso down on his, causing him to fall back, but his thumb was wedged in place. He could only wiggle the digit as she roughly rode him to the end, their cries unwilling to be drown out by the roars of the ocean.

She lay on him, his lips pressed to her head, arms weighing heavily on her back. Once she felt in better control of her faculties, she looked at him, and found his eyes still locked on her. She laughed yet again, feeling she'd experienced more in the last few weeks than in the entire remainder of her life put together.

"What?" he asked as he tried to decipher her outburst.

"You've been satisfied, and yet still you stare."

"Parts of me were sated…for the moment."

"Which parts did I neglect? Here?" she teased, pinching the tip of his elbow. "Tell me so I'll know to give them more attention next time."

He refused to be playful at that moment, no matter how she acted. He took her hand and pressed it tightly against his heart so she could feel its pulses against the bone. In case she didn't understand the implication, he stared at the spot for some time, tracing the backs of her fingers.

When he did look at her, his clear eyes devoted, he said, "No matter how much you give, parts of me will never have enough."