Chapter 12: Where's the Thump Thump?

Hector Barbossa could not remember the last time he'd been so idle. He was not a typical pirate: unlike most others, he did not use any and all of his spare time to laze about the deck swilling rum. He used it to draw charts. Read. Make plans for their next business venture. That's why he was a good captain. A great captain! But somewhere along the line he'd misstepped. Jack Sparrow and L'Agua de Vida alluded him, and eventually sneaked up from behind. Clever bastard.

Was he losing his edge? Getting old? Should Hector Barbossa not have been seeking immortality, but a nice warm nook ashore?

Not bloody likely. So he sat on the beach, his only bottle of rum in hand, divested of all his finery but trousers and shirt sleeves. He'd checked the old rum runner's hold, Jack had divested the island of every last drop of any consumable substance. The old pirate watched the sun slip below the surface of the water, watched the pinks and oranges and purples of the sunset, the blue of the water, all fade eventually to an inky black.

"Damn you, Jack Sparrow." he sighed, taking a swill from the bottle.

"Jack Sparrow, you say?"

Barbossa had not detected a new comer's approach, yet he was not especially surprised to find himself suddenly sharing his little island with the vampire Francisco de Vargas. In fact, he'd very nearly expected it.

"Ah, we meet again, Don de Vargas. Yes, Jack Sparrow has made off with my ship. So if you have a need to find him still, we could go take it back this very moment." He smiled, which actually more closely resembled a snarl.

"But I'm afraid I don't need him anymore," said the vampire. Barbossa dared a glance up at him. Francisco's dark clothes swathed him in shadow only a diamond ring on his finger glinted in the bright moonlight.

"Found another way to World's End, did you?"

"Si, I have. Someone who has been there before. I believe you know him, a first mate Joshamee Gibbs."

Barbossa nodded. "So he has, and yes I do."

"And I was surprised to learn that you as well have been there, Captain Barbossa. Or is it just Barbossa, now?"

"Captain, if you please." Hector's bravado made the vampire smile, ever so slightly.

"You lead me to believe I was in need of this chart to find my way, when you could have taken me all along." There was a note of venom in Francisco's otherwise calm voice, that made Barbossa's blood run a tad cold. But still, he refused to be browbeaten, and a little extra rum is his system only reinforced his stubborn defiance. "I've been there once and I don't intend to voluntarily ever go again. I won't be bullied."

"No, I did not think you would be. You are an exceptional, if not unlucky, man. So tell me, what progress have you made on your end of our deal? If your news is promising, perhaps I will not eat you."

"Well then, you have a few options. You could go chase down Elizabeth Swann cum Turner, who is aboard the Pearl this very moment, to get the key we so sorely need, hoping to catch them before they've gone and done something infuriatingly clever to protect the heart of friend and husband. Those two have a history of being exceptionally devious, you know."

Franciso was obviously not pleased with this option. "Or?" he asked, voice impatient.

"OR, you could give me a ride off this abominable island, and we could go fetch the trunk containing the heart right now. I've seen her map, and I'm confident in my ability to lead you to it."

It occurred to Francisco that if he wished he quite simply could extract the information from Barbossa's trap of a mind. But the man could still prove useful in times to come, he was a dangerously clever man.

"And how might one get into this chest?"

"A key, though I cannot claim to have it in my possession any longer."

"I presume you know where it is?" Francisco asked with a lordly sneer.

"That I do. Let's find the chest first, then go to Elizabeth Swann-er, Turner, for the key."

"And you, my friend, are hoping we would have occasion to find her on the Pearl, where you will find your ship, and L'Agua de Vida, no doubt."

"No doubt."

Francisco nodded. "Very well. Let us go, then."

"I knew you'd see things my way."

IIIIII

Elizabeth stood at the gunwale for much of the night, watching the dark beasts easily keeping pace with the ship, cutting through the water. Jack steered the Pearl silently, keeping one eye on the lady, not wanting another possible mishap a la railing.

She was too far away. She was not in his arms, and therefore, she was simply too far away.

"C'mere, Lizzy luv," he called, and Elizabeth turned her eyes to him. Those honeyed brown eyes held all the weight of the world in them. She was too young to have a look like that.

Without a word she crossed the deck to him, expecting another proposition, perhaps a kiss or an embrace. What she entirely did not expect was Jack to draw her into the circle of his arms, her back to him, and place her hands upon the pegs of the helm.

A sudden scintillating thrill ran through her. She glanced back at the pirate, and her eyes held that spark of vitality again, like the girl he once knew. And oh, what a magnificent ship the Pearl was. It was nothing like steering her little Free Swann II. She could feel everything from the helm. Everything from the ocean currents pulling at the rudder, the waves slapping at the hull, the roll of the keel as she cut through the water, and the wind that filled their sails, pulling them forward. The ship thrummed like a living breathing beast, and Elizabeth wasn't sure that in her own way, the Pearl wasn't just that.

Alive.

"Oh, Jack," she sighed, leaning back against him. She knew what a huge gesture this was for the pirate, to relinquish the helm of his precious Pearl to her.

"Keep 'er true, darlin'" Jack whispered in her ear, unable to suppress his own grin. It made him ridiculously happy to make her happy. It almost seemed too simple. There had to be a catch.

Then he remembered there was a catch. Lizzy could never be completely his. He could not give her his name, and she could not give him her whole heart. Never ever in his life before had such a thing interested him, but this girl, this Pirate King, was rewriting the rules of the game. She was writing them upon his heart, with her smiles and her luminous brown eyes and her sweet kisses.

Blasted girl.

Jack nuzzled the skin behind Lizzy's ear, kissing her lightly, winning a sigh filled with longing. His hands travelled down her arms, dragging over the ladder of her ribcage, the curves of her waist and swell of her hips. His touch made her knees positively knock, and it felt ridiculously good just to lean back against him, the Pearl at her fingertips and her pirate Captain at her back. "Jack, I can't possibly concentrate when you do that," she whispered.

"Ye mean this, luv?" he teased, his possessive hands roaming low on her belly, just barely grazing inside the waistband of her trousers.

She gasped, and the Pearl listed to starboard. Chuckling, Jack reached out to catch the helm, bringing her back onto course. "Tryin' for Hispaniola again, luv?" he teased. "This is why I can't let you steer."

Elizabeth felt quite content to relinquish the helm, held in the warm circle of Jack's arms. But he didn't take it away from her, just covered her hands with his larger mitts on the pegs. "What ever would I do without you?" she asked coyly, turning to kiss his cheek.

Jack paused, a glimmer of sorrow surfacing in his eyes, before disappearing into the black depths once again. "Ye do just fine without me, Lizzy girl."

Elizabeth thought of the past five years she'd spent without Jack. The depths of despair she'd travelled, and the state of numb she'd lived in. She managed to get on with life efficiently, but she really hadn't been fine, she realized. Even with the threat of Francisco looming large, she was happier now with Jack than she'd ever been.

She bit down on the urge not to beg him not to leave her ashore again, once this adventure was through. She settled for saying simply, "I prefer being with you, to without you, Jack."

Inwardly the pirate captain groaned. What the devil was this woman doing to him?

He kissed the bend of her throat, resting his head upon her shoulder. They stood like that for a long time, slotted together like fitted shards of the original clay. Eventually Elizabeth shifted, catching Jack's lips in a gentle kiss. "I'm exhausted, Jack. May I borrow your berth?"

Jack fought the urge to say something damning, like what's mine is yours. Take it all.

He managed to simply nod, appraising her thoughtfully. As though she knew very well what he ruminated on, a small smile quirked the corner of her mouth. "Will you join me when the watch changes?"

Jack's mouth suddenly felt dry, and he knew all the rum in the world could not sate his thirst. Only this girl before him, his beautiful and terrible Pirate King, his lovely Lizzy girl.

Again, he simply nodded, and Elizabeth's smile was bright enough to rival the moon that hung low on the horizon.

Squeezing his arm with affection, with promise, Elizabeth retreated beneath to the stairs. With one more fleeting glance back at Jack, she descended from the quarterdeck.

Time passed, seemingly hardly any at all, before the watch changed and another came to the helm for the next shift. Jack did not know him, but the pirate smiled a single toothed grin at the legendary Jack Sparrow, pleased to be aboard.

"Get some sleep, Cap'n. I'll steer 'er true."

Reluctantly, Jack relinquished the helm, fingers sliding lightly from her wheel peg as a lover would give a parting caress.

It was so good to be back again. But even the immortal Jack Sparrow needed rest, and fatigue from a full day of hijinx pulled at his eyelids. Better yet, a very special bedmate awaited him below. Jack practically skipped to his cabin, pushing open the door quietly.

There she was. Elizabeth, curled up on her side in his berth. Her long hair spilled free across the pillow, and in this state, with her eyes closed and not sparking fire, her mouth silent and not spouting infuriating and funny words, her face at rest, she very much resembled an angel.

It appeared she was wearing one of his cleaner cotton lawn shirts. He wondered what else? He hoped nothing else.

Jack contemplated waking her, but decided at that moment what he wanted more was to sleep with her beside him. He undressed and slipped into the bed, careful not to wake her. It felt right as rain to drape an arm around her waist, pull her curves against him, and drift into a deep sleep.

IIIIIII

"This Elizabeth must be quite a woman, braving all this to hide her husband's heart," commented Francisco. They had sailed to the island, actually rather near to where Barbossa had been marooned. It was jungly and mountainous, sweat poured off Barbossa in buckets, keeping up with the path he'd committed to memory.

They'd climbed, crossed slippery rocks over streams, scaled rock face that seemed nearly impassable, even swung over a deep crevice on vines. It was arduous for the human, not so much the vampire. At times Barbossa was even carried during steep climbs, to make travel easier and faster. Barbossa knew, from hearsay of vampires, that they possessed super human strength. But until then, he did not understand truly understand, the strength that lay in Francisco's arms. The vampire lifted Barbossa as though he were merely a feather, made leaps bearing the extra weight as though he had wings.

Hector couldn't help but muse on the journey Elizabeth must have made, on a mission to safeguard her husband's heart. She must have made the journey all alone, spent the night on the island, possibly even several, finding the perfect place to hide it and mapping an exact course, should she need to find it again.

After their last adventure together Barbossa had acquired a respect for the young woman. She'd turned into quite a pirate. Vicious, wily, deadly with a blade, even more so as the years had passed. Could he think of any other woman who equaled her sense of adventure, her steel to do the impossible because it needed to be done? No. none came to mind.

He suspected the famed Grace O'Malley may have been a kindred spirit, but the Irish pirate was not in his long list of acquaintances. So he finally answered the vampire's esteemed comment with one of his own. "Aye, that she is. A foe to be reckoned with, I will caution you."

"I had very little trouble with her, upon our first acquaintance, in Tortuga."

"Perhaps, but you caught her unawares. She's a bit more prepared now, I should expect."

Francisco smiled, a poisonous curl of lips. He had not been able to establish quite the connection of control he wanted, but he still could pry a little into her thoughts. She'd had quite a fit of nerves earlier this evening. He sensed and savored her fear like a fine wine.

Jack Sparrow would not always be there to keep her from plunging.

"Very few people are accustomed to my kind," Francisco said confidently. "I do not expect difficulty in keeping her on her toes."

Barbossa shrugged. He didn't really like the vampire much, and a small part of him was rooting for Elizabeth's side. But, however, the other ninety percent of him really, really wanted the Agua de Vida. And at the present moment in time, that seemed to indicate working with the bastard.

"Well, let's find the chest first, eh?" Intent on just that, Barbossa pulled aside some vines, revealing a cave cutting into the side of the mountain. They were high up, and the view would have been stunning by daylight. It wasn't half bad by the stars and moon, which hung full and bright. Even with the extra blue light, Barbossa still had trouble with the darkness.

Had it not been for torches of dried palm fronds bore by a few of Francisco's fanged crew, he wouldn't have been able to find the way. The torch bearers went first into the cave. It began as a passable cavern, but as they traipsed on the passage narrowed and narrowed. Barbossa began to be alarmed, knowing that Elizabeth was skinny as a stick and could fit into spaces far smaller than what would accommodate his girth.

Finally it got to a point where no one could continue. "We won't fit, Capitaine," said Carlos, first mate and one of the torch bearers. Francisco raised a dark eyebrow, and by the unforgiving expression upon his face, Barbossa expected him to mutter, "Then make yourself fit."

Instead, the next words from Don de Vargas were addressed to him. "And what directions from here, Captain Barbossa? Are we close?"

"Supposedly its in a niche containing our prize at the end of this cave, however far that may be. Maybe we need Elizabeth after all to fetch it. Or a child..."

Francisco waved it off. "Perhaps most men cannot fit into the crannies her svelte figure can pass, but I will make do." Barbossa had seen many a strange thing in this world, but he still doubted his eyes for what happened next. Francisco melted into a silvery mist, and slipped past them down into the depths of the cave.

"Did he really just turn into a wisp of fog?"

Carlos turned glittering black eyes to him. Hector couldn't help but feel unnerved, being alone in the cave with the two remaining vampires. "It is a talent we lesser vampires do not yet posses," Carlos finally explained, fangs glinting in the fire light. "Shall we wait outside?"

The cave was stuffy, close, and smelled heavily of bat guano. Outside it was. They sat outside the cave, hunkered down on some mossy rocks and waited. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the coming dawn, and Hector noticed the two vampires eyeing it nervously. "Perhaps we take shelter in the cave?" one suggested.

"Or perhaps we return to the ship." All three jumped at Francisco's sudden appearance. Even the vampires did not detect their captain's approach. He stood quietly, the chest clasped in his hands. Barbossa hadn't seen it for a while, its presence echoed of an old adventure and the days of Davy Jones' tyranny over the sea. Those days were gone now: a new heart beat in its place. But now that Francisco held the chest in his slender nobleman's hands, Barbossa couldn't help but wonder for how long.