TEN: Hero

Hurry, hurry – there, done. Beckett had taken a little, eh, detour – but now he was rushing back up the mountain. He knew that it was up here somewhere. Beckett finally spotted it a little way off – he bent down to pick it up; and winced, his shoulder straining as he lifted it up again. Ouch... Elizabeth had better appreciate this. He picked up the sack of belongings that Elizabeth had dropped as she'd skipped off down the mountainside to grab her gun... honestly, couldn't she look after herself for even five seconds?

He wandered back down the hillside, making sure to keep a sharp eye on the ground for any similar crevices in the ground. Aha! There it was – he arrived, and promptly emptied the sack onto the ground.

"Beckett?" Came a worried-sounding voice from below.

"Yes?" He replied, picking up the two blankets and beginning to tie them together; using sailors expertise, he quickly made sure they were absolutely secure. He'd only really learned to tie sailors knots so that he could reprimand others on doing it wrong... but it did come in handy from time to time.

"Oh!" Elizabeth sounded surprised, "You're – I mean, you're here!"

"Yes... I am, Miss Swann," Beckett said, finishing the tying of the knot with a fantastic flourish, which he was a little disappointed nobody was around to see. One did not learn these things for nothing!

"I... do you know how to get me out of here yet?" Elizabeth changed her tone back to being haughty and indifferent, from the almost friendly tone that had been sneaking into her voice. Beckett sighed, and tested the blankets to make sure the knot wouldn't come undone. It was stuck fast.

"Yes... hopefully," Beckett said briskly, and he threw the tied-together blankets down into the crack in the ground – and hit Elizabeth in the face with them, incidentally. But Elizabeth had no time to complain, as she quickly yanked on the blankets, her feet scrabbling against the wall. Beckett was nearly pulled down into the hole in her eagerness to get out.

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"Beckett?" Elizabeth asked, as the blanket gave way a little in her hands.

"Steady on, woman!" Beckett said, crossly, "Let me brace myself first!" Elizabeth stopped grabbing the blankets, and stopped. There was some shuffling from above – and then he spoke again. "Alright... start now. But the place you shot me in the shoulder is making this very difficult." Elizabeth sighed. Why did everything she did seem to come back and bite her in the backside?

"Okay..." Elizabeth said, and put her feet against the sides again, beginning to pull herself upwards. She did not like this. All Beckett had to do was drop the rope, and she could break her back. She put her feet on either side of he crevice, until they widened out too much. And then... it was time to simply put her life in Beckett's hands.

Which she knew was a terrible mistake, but she had no choice.

"Ugh!" Beckett yelped as she took her weight off of one of the sides, "How much do you weigh?" She struggled up the rocky miniature cliff-face regardless; she was actually rather light for a person – but people themselves are quite heavy.

"I'd prefer not to answer that question," She said in the most dignified way she could, her feet scraping against the sliding rocks around her, the knot in the blankets shrivelling until it was the size of a pea – well, they certainly wouldn't be getting that out in a hurry. Finally; Elizabeth saw light, and grass around her. Yes! Nearly there!

After another few seconds of pulling, she found the edge of the crevice with her fingers. Her muscles were screaming for rest; but she just had to get past this final obstacle. Taking a deep breath, she kicked off of the wall and scrambled up and out – into daylight again. Yes! She jumped to her feet, and patted herself down, checking for damage – specifically on her stomach. It was only after she heard a small cough that she remembered Beckett.

"Oh... uh... thank you," She said to him, feeling a little awkward, and wiping blood off of her chin. He was holding the coil of blankets, looked rather displeased, and was looking at her expectantly, holding onto his shoulder – his expression seemed to say, yes, very gracious of you, and by the way – notice the shoulder that you shot Elizabeth almost wanted to laugh at how indignant he looked. Would he ever let her forget about the shoulder?

"You're welcome. Now please will you refrain from any more of your charging blindly down mountainsides?" He asked her, turning his nose up. "If you're so desperate for your gun, go and get it now." And he frowned at her.

"You... you went to get it while I was down in the hole, weren't you?" Elizabeth suddenly asked, suspiciously. Beckett sighed loudly.

"No. No, I didn't." He said, pursing his lips. Elizabeth looked disbelieving – Beckett was a smart man, he'd think of something like that. Unless he didn't want the gun for some reason, or wanted her to have the gun... or was actually too worried about her to go and grab it? No, no. Stupid. That just wasn't Beckett. She was right – Beckett was indeed smart, and had remembered the gun, but he was even smarter then she'd first thought...

"Why do you want me to keep the gun? Why have you changed your mind all of a sudden, eh?" Elizabeth demanded. Beckett looked at her tiredly.

"I've given up, Elizabeth. Must you suspect me so? There's no point. Keep your bloody gun." He said. Elizabeth frowned at him, but nodded anyway, and began making her way down the mountain again. Beckett looked up at the sky – it was darkening. He looked down at Elizabeth skipping down the mountain... and then knelt down and began putting everything back into the sack, from the rocky ground where they had been thrown as he'd hurriedly tipped it out to save Elizabeth.

And he felt rather underappreciated. Really.

"She deserves what I did," He murmured to himself. The gun was still down there, yes, but Beckett is a little bit more sly then that. Elizabeth had a right to be suspicious, really...

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As promised, there was the gun – Elizabeth scooped it up, feeling slightly more reassured at the feel of the metal. She looked up the cliffside, and saw Beckett ambling down, the sack thrown over his back, and a frown on his face... he probably doesn't like the thought of hard work, Elizabeth thought to herself sneeringly. But somehow, she also felt a little bad as he threw the sack to the ground in front of her.

"Well, this is where we stayed last night. We can use the old fire spot," Elizabeth said, trying not to sound too worried. Beckett looked a little mad, but he quickly smoothed over his anger and instead looked calm and collected, as usual. He even gave her a smile. Immediately, suspicion crept into Elizabeth's mind, and she held the gun aloft. "I still have this, you know."

"Yes. I do know." Beckett said, raising one eyebrow, fearless in the face of it.

"Alright," Elizabeth said uncertainly, and then she sat down, pulled out a small satchel of water and took a long drink. Beckett watched her, and then also sat himself down, shifting position for a while like a cat trying to get comfortable. That was actually a rather good metaphor for Beckett, a cat – once he was snug, he looked a lot like a contented cat. Elizabeth rummaged in the sack, and held a bottle of rum aloft. Beckett gave her a look that was so offended she immediately lowered it.

"I'm not falling for the same trick twice, Miss Swann," He said. She could see that he was trying to keep his temper – and knew that if one good thing could be said about Beckett, it was that he was extremely polite indeed.

"Will you stop calling me Miss Swann?" Elizabeth asked, wrinkling her nose, and also remembering a young James Norrington with a hint of sadness. "You're just like all the others!"

"You call me Beckett, don't you? You don't even bother adding a Lord... or... mister..." He trailed off a little at the end, thoughtfully. "I'd only been a Lord for a little while too. It was good while it lasted." He tilted his head, looking out at the sun – not quite setting yet, but getting nearer to the sea every second. "We should start making a fire now. And do you have any more food?"

"Ugh..." Elizabeth sighed. She'd brought from Port Royale enough food to last one person – one – for a good couple of months. So why should she feed Beckett? He could live off of fruit and nuts, couldn't he? Well, probably. It wasn't impossible. She had been planning on going back to Port Royale, or perhaps some other port, again; to get more food from mainland. Ferry back and forth in the small rowing boat until she had enough food to last... uh, nine months, if all went well... longer... But then Beckett had distracted her, and she was not leaving him alone on her island.

Elizabeth wasn't sure if she was pregnant or not. It had only been a week and a couple of days – it was impossible to tell! But apparently, around week three, she'd really start feeling it; hormones-wise. Telling Beckett about her pregnancy wasn't part of her plans... and she hoped the pregnancy wouldn't affect her judgement too much, because she needed her wits about her when concerning Beckett.

Speaking of... she was still suspicious about the gun. Suddenly, she flicked open the end of the pistol, and shook the gun out. Nothing came out. Looking sidelong towards Beckett with narrowed eyes, she snatched up the bag and yanked out a small lather pouch, hurriedly emptying it out.

No bullets.

NB: Beckett did the right thing! Sort of. Nearly. In a way... Reviews are lovelovelove. All of those formats just to show my love!

Next update contains karate power love, gun-butt clubs, muddy shrubs! Lecturing lame lass for likely liability! (ack!) (and Beckett makes his debut as a comedian, too...)