A/N: Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews!
Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.
Chapter 10
Elizabeth sat in the bed, still pondering the odd realization that they were at sea, when the cabin's door slowly opened, and Jack cautiously walked inside. He noiselessly closed the door behind him with his foot, turned around, and only then noticed that Elizabeth was awake. Giving a half-surprised, half-cheerful 'ah', he smiled at her, put a tray that he was carrying on the cabinet, and quickly slumped down onto the bed beside her.
Elizabeth stared at him wide-eyed, astonished at her strange inability to even utter a word. Her heart was all of a sudden racing again at the mere sight of him, and it did not help her to calm down when he, as soon as he had sat near her, pulled her into an embrace, and kissed her ardently.
"Good mornin', luv", he whispered, breaking the kiss, and resting his forehead against hers. "I thought ye wouldn't be awake yet-"
She did not open her eyes, but slowly draped her arms around his neck, and kissed him before he managed to finish his sentence.
Habitually, it crossed her mind that she should not have been doing that... but she dismissed the thought quickly. She needed to be near him, right now, immediately, as close to him as possible. He kissed her back, and slid his arms around her, running his hands across the bare skin of her back, the bed cover in which she had wrapped herself falling down, leaving her almost completely naked in his arms, but she did not care. In order to fix it, she would have to break the kiss, and that was not possible. His lips tasted of everything that she had dreamt of: the cool sea, the fiery love, the perilous adventure, the rum... Well. She had not dreamt of rum, but it seemed that Captain Jack Sparrow went with rum in one package, as it were, so if she was going to have one, she also had to accept the other.
"That's what... I call... a proper mornin'... greetin'", grinned Jack, fighting for breath, and slowly sifting Elizabeth's hair through his fingers.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, and smiled at him weakly, resting her head on his shoulder. "When I woke up, and you weren't here...", she started quietly.
"I know, I'm sorry, luv", Jack grimaced slightly, and tightened his embrace around her. "I had to take care of me ship, set sail, all that, ye kno-", he trailed off, remembering that he had not told her yet that they were at sea already.
"I know", cut in Elizabeth in a soft whisper, finding herself nuzzling Jack's neck, but stopping abruptly, suddenly terrified by just how natural it felt to be with him, while she should rather feel awkward. And guilty.
And she did feel guilty. A bit. But she probably should feel more guilty. Although it was difficult to feel guilty in his arms, receiving the pleasant warmth radiating from his body, being enveloped by his intoxicating scent, the scent of a man to whom she belonged-
Elizabeth's eyes widened at her own thoughts. It seemed, that she could not think straight anymore. Everything seemed so unreal. Was it a dream? Maybe it was a dream, after all. Maybe it had never happened.
...And even if it had happened... he was dead. He was dead, because she had killed him. He was dead...
Elizabeth snuggled closer to Jack, pressing her lips to his neck, and kissing him repeatedly.
The taste of his skin... Oh God, I'm going mad...
He drew back a little, and gently cupped her face in his hands, and for a moment just looked at her, at her gold-brown hair in slight disarray falling over her shoulders, at her hazel eyes shimmering with some unidentified emotions, at her trembling, luscious lips.
"Lizzie...", he murmured, brushing his lips against hers so lightly that she could barely feel it. "If ye're not a dream, ye must be at least an angel."
"No, I'm not", she said quietly in a quivering voice. "I'm a horrible person."
Jack tilted his head backwards, and frowned at her (and at himself for putting her in her crying mood again, apparently). "Lizzie-"
"Jack-", she interrupted him, and put her hand over his mouth, but then the sound of the waves crashing against the ship suddenly reminded her where they were. "Jack, we are at sea!"
Jack widened his eyes at her briefly, unprepared for that sudden change of topic. "Well...", he cleared his throat.
"You left him in Tortuga, right?", she asked anxiously, hopefully, struck by the realization, that so far everything was happening exactly the way it was happening in the past, with only the small exception in the form of the insignificant addition of her presence.
"Whom?", asked Jack, baffled.
Elizabeth drew back, and stared at him wide-eyed. "He's aboard?", she asked disbelievingly, with a hint of accusation in her voice.
Jack blinked, and tried to rescue the bewildering situation by pulling Elizabeth into a kiss, but she resisted, clutching the bed cover to her chest.
"You said you believed me!", she exclaimed with a frown.
Jack's eyes widened even more. He had not heard her speaking in such a loud voice before. (Not that he had known her long enough to know everything about her...) And yet, that tone of her voice sounded oddly familiar...
"I do believe yer every word, luv", Jack reassured her firmly, having, however, no idea what she was talking about.
"So how come you didn't leave him in Tortuga!?" Her voice grew desperate, and Jack began to worry that she may start crying again, or perhaps (what would be even worse in the present circumstances, since he wanted to keep her presence on the ship secret) she may start shouting.
Not that she was not almost shouting already...
"Lizzie", Jack put his hands on her shoulders, and carefully tried to pull her closer to him.
To have her... To keep her close... To be with her... To have her near... Always... He blinked, startled by his musings, but quickly refocused on the conversation.
"Jack, I told you what I had heard!", she exclaimed frustratingly. She was not crying, but she seemed to be fairly upset nonetheless...
And then it dawned on him, it dawned on him what she was referring to. She was referring to Hector Barbossa and the conversation that she had said she had overheard. About the... (He could hardly even pronounce the word in his imagination, it had such an odd ring to it...) ...mutiny?...
"Luv", he stroked her hair, and smiled. "Don't worry. I can take care of everythin'", he stated without any hesitation in his voice.
Elizabeth bit her lip, and sighed, and somehow the little gesture sent hot shivers up his spine, and he surprised her by unexpectedly crashing his lips against hers.
They fell onto the bed, and she wanted to protest, but had not enough strength to do anything else apart from kissing him back, clutching the fabric of his coat on his shoulders, and dragging him as close as possible with urgency that almost scared her.
And what scared her even more was the image of Will's face that suddenly sprung to her mind, and what he would think, say, do if he saw her right now...
"Jack", she whispered, placing her hands on his chest, and trying to put some distance between them. "Please, stop", she pleaded, her hands sliding under his coat, and pushing it off his shoulders.
He broke the kiss, and grinned against her lips. "If ye want me to stop, luv, why are ye takin' me clothes off?", he asked amusedly.
Elizabeth cupped his face in her hands, too dazed from the kiss to quickly formulate a witty retort. "Jack, this is serious. I really heard-", she started in a quivering voice.
"I'm flattered that ye're worryin' 'bout me so much, luv", said Jack with a smirk never leaving his features, his eyes lighted with amusement. "But I may assure ye that-"
Elizabeth huffed in annoyance, and to Jack's ultimate surprise shoved him off not only herself, but the bed as well, and keeping the bed cover awkwardly wrapped around her, stepped on the floor, and stormed off the bedroom, and into the main cabin.
Jack shook his head, blinked several times, and putting his hand to his forehead, tried to understand what was going on, and, more importantly, whether he had not made a mistake while assessing his bonny lass' personality...
He quickly leaped to his feet, went to the door, and peered into the main cabin. And he could not help but grin at the sight of Elizabeth pacing around the room, wrapped in a white blanket which, luckily for him, was not covering her very thoroughly.
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest to keep the blanket in place. She tried to come up with a solution, although she had no idea what could she possibly do. They were at sea, Barbossa was on board, and the mutiny was going to take place... She paused in her thoughts, trying to remember what Gibbs had said about the mutiny... When was it going to take place? She stopped in her tracks, and knitted her eyebrows together, irritated by her own thoughtlessness. She should remember that. How many days after leaving port? Two? Three?
Her face brightened up. Yes! Three! She remembered now. Three days after leaving port, Barbossa would ask Jack for the bearings, and the mutiny would take place at the following night.
"Lizzie..." Jack cautiously put his hands on her shoulders, and she turned around to face him. "What's wrong?", he asked curiously, narrowing his eyes, and studying her face with warm interest.
"Nothing", Elizabeth answered automatically, finding herself being dragged again into the mysterious depth of his dark, hypnotizing gaze.
"Seems like something to me", replied Jack with a small smirk tugging on his lips, and her eyes shifted involuntarily to his mouth, her mind replying his kisses in her imagination with frustrating diligence.
"I'm just...", she started quietly, subconsciously leaning forward.
Jack's smirk quickly transformed into a grin, as he slowly pulled her towards him, closing her in an embrace. "Ye're just stunning", he murmured smilingly, brushing his lips against hers.
"Jack...", she smiled, even though she really did not feel like smiling. But somehow he always managed to make her smile. He was the personification of joy. She giggled inwardly at the thought.
He slowly deepened the kiss, and she tilted her head to the side, her hands entangling in his dreadlocks, her soul drowning in the kiss, in him, in bliss, and despair... because of what could have been, but never will...
Why? Why had she dismissed that possibility even before it had even become real enough for her to grasp it? To try to grasp it... Or maybe she was only deceiving herself? It was not like he had ever really loved her... It was not that he loved her now... But it was so sweet, so frustratingly sweet to think that she could have had a life like that... On a ship... On the Black Pearl... In his arms...
They broke the kiss, and stared at each other wordlessly. Jack brought his hand to Elizabeth's face, and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She shivered, and he locked his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She snuggled her face into his chest, and they stood silently, just holding each other, until Jack drew back at the alarming, and all too familiar quiet sound of Elizabeth crying. He propped her head with his hand, and was about to ask her what was wrong this time, but the knock on the door interrupted him.
"Who's there?", called Jack grumpily.
"It's me", answered somebody from the other side of the door.
Jack rolled his eyes. Was it somebody else, he could just tell him to go away.
"We have to get ye out of sight, luv", whispered Jack into Elizabeth's ear, his lips brushing lightly against her skin, and before she realized what she was doing, she turned her head, and pressed her lips against his in a hungry kiss, the tears drying out at an instant, the sadness that she had felt only a moment before disappearing, melting in the heat of the kiss.
And they kissed, despite the knocking that continued spoiling the atmosphere.
At last Elizabeth broke the kiss, and drew back, hardly keeping herself from laughing at the expression of genuine disappointment on Jack's face. "I'll be right there", she whispered softly, smiling against Jack's lips, and waving her hand in the direction of the side cabin's door. He frowned at the door, and nodded at her sadly. Elizabeth smirked, and leaned on his shoulder, brushing her lips against his ear: "Right on the bed", she whispered, and pulled back abruptly, before he managed to catch her and kiss her senseless, for he looked as if he was going to do just that.
Elizabeth smiled, bit her lip, and spun around, disappearing inside the bedroom, and closing the door quietly behind her. She leaned against the door, and covered her face with her hands, smiling, and blushing, and feeling utterly ridiculous.
And for a brief moment feeling as happy as she had never felt before.
Jack pouted, looking longingly at the door which had closed behind Elizabeth. He sighed unhappily, and reluctantly walked towards the door, opening it hastily.
"Ah, at last!", said Bill Turner with a small smile, and swiftly walked into the cabin.
Jack wrinkled his forehead, and kicked the door, causing it to slam shut loudly. "Aye. What is it?", he asked, glancing at the side cabin's door, and trying to block all those images that were invading his mind, making it virtually impossible for him to concentrate on something else.
"Oh, it's nothing", answered Bill Turner hurriedly.
Jack raised his eyebrows. "An' more specifically, what kind of nothin' that'd be?"
Bill Turner smiled nervously, looking around the cabin uncertainly. "I was thinkin'...", he started, and looked up when a bottle of rum suddenly appeared in front of his face.
"For thinkin'", said Jack with a smile, handing the bottle to Bill, and pulling another one for himself from under his desk.
"Aye", Bill Turner nodded, and slumped into a chair.
"So, what's the trouble?", asked Jack grabbing a chair for himself, and sitting down as well.
"I was wonderin'... Is that treasure we're after worth a lot?", asked Bill, looking at the rum thoughtfully.
Jack sat back in his chair, and took a swig of rum from his bottle. "Aye. I believe so. An'-"
"I'm askin' 'cause", cut in Bill without waiting for Jack to ask him the question, "if me share was fair enough, I might... I could... I was thinkin'", he took a deep breath, and brought the rum to his lips, drinking the entire bottle in one swig.
Jack widened his eyes. "Yer thinkin' is awfully rum-consumin', mate", he observed with amusement.
Bill sighed, and shook his head, putting the empty bottle away. "I'm thinkin' 'bout quittin', Jack", he said in a low voice, staring at the floor.
Jack wrinkled his forehead, and tilted his head to the side, looking at Bill questioningly."Quittin' what?", he asked after a pause.
"Everythin'", replied Bill with a faint smile, glancing at Jack. "Piracy, me life, the sea... Well", he inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Me life at sea, not me life in general", he chuckled half-heartedly.
"An' what would make ye do that?", asked Jack cautiously, after a pause.
Bill looked up, and smiled weakly. "I'd like t'go back... Don't know for how long... For some time at least... But I think I should... I ought to... I shouldn't have left in the first place... Not so suddenly, at least... Or early... Or both... Or neither...", he ran his head across his forehead, and sighed. "I think I'll just get off in the first port after Isla de Muerta..."
Jack took a swig from his bottle, and squinted. "Unless ye dislike me ship...", he started, waiting for Bill to look up which he did. Jack smirked. "There's no reason not t'make a wee trip to ol' England after collectin' some ol' Spanish gold, aye?"
Bill Turner smiled.
"An' perhaps there's also no reason for ye not t'get yer boy onto the Pearl, but that's up to ye", added Jack with a smile.
"I think his mother would shoot me for even suggestin' that, but thank ye", answered Bill with a chuckle.
Behind the side cabin's door, Elizabeth slid to the floor, leaning her back against the wall. It was just impossible not to eavesdrop... She had been curious to find out who had come, and it was not until the end of the conversation, when it suddenly dawned on her that the man with whom Jack was speaking was, most probably, Will's father. It had never occurred to her before, and she had completely forgotten about that, about the fact that Bill Turner was on the Black Pearl.
And that he was going to die as well...
She slowly got off the floor, walked to the bed, and sat on the edge of it. Suddenly all the enthralling, transfixing, sweet emotions were gone, and she was once again left with the bitterness enveloping her, and making her feel cold, so very cold, so very guilty... Although Bill Turner's death was not (will not be) her fault...
She fell onto her back, and pulled Jack's coat which he had left on the bed from under her head, and hugged it to herself.
She closed her eyes, and for a moment just lie motionlessly inhaling his scent, and imagining how it would have been to be with him... forever. To live with him... To spend the rest of her life with him... Waking up to the sight of him...
She opened her eyes, and straightened up, brushing the tears away from her face with the back of her hand.
What was it? Why did it hurt that much? Was she really... falling in love with him?
She rose to her feet, and walked to the cabinet on which sat the tray that Jack had brought. Some bread, some cheese, water... and in the middle of the tray a fruit. Elizabeth bit her lip, even more tears welling up in her eyes when she tilted her head to the side, and looked at the yellow fruit cut in a half, and shaped clumsily into two not very evenly cut out hearts.
Falling in love? She snorted to herself sadly. As if she had not fallen in love with him already!... She had fallen in love with him the moment he had dragged her out of the water, and looked at her, and she had opened her eyes, the image of his face hovering over hers burned into her memory, her imagination, her heart; the water dripping on her face off his wet dreadlocks like the tears which were yet to come, the tears that she had brought upon herself...
She looked at his coat that she was holding in her hands, and grimaced. She tossed the coat onto the bed in frustration, and then she noticed that something slipped off the coat's pocket, some dark, round object, some... medallion?
She blinked, and slowly walked toward the bed, hardly believing her eyes. She reached for the medallion, and looked at it with both confusion and astonishment, the first words that he had ever spoken to her, flowing to her at this moment quite appropriately:
Where did he get that?...