Neither the lyrics to "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" nor Pirates of the Caribbean belong to me.
Brandy snuggled deep into the curve of Jack's arm, not really thinking, just feeling. Feeling safe, and warm, and, above all, loved.
"Jack?" she whispered.
"Mmm?"
"Can I come with you when you leave again?"
Jack sat bolt upright and looked at her in disbelief. "Are ye serious, Brandy?"
Brandy nodded timidly.
Jack sighed and lay back down again. "It's no life for a woman, love. It's rough, and uncomfortable, and bloody."
This time Brandy sat up. "Did you think I'd never been uncomfortable before, or seen blood? I work in a tavern, Jack! I'm not innocent. I haven't been innocent in a long time."
Jack pulled her back down into his arms. "Actually, I was hoping ye were sincere about this. I—" he hesitated.
"Yes?"
He sighed. "Ye knew, love, when we started this, I didn't love ye. I liked ye, yes, but I wasn't willing to make this serious. But now…now, something's different."
Brandy couldn't breathe. Was he truly willing to take her with him?
Jack shook himself out of his reverie. "The point is, the answer to your question is yes. If you're willing to put up with ship life, then I'm willing to put ye on a ship." And he drew her into a kiss, a kiss that held safety, and warmth, but above all, love.