THIRTEEN: Mainland Jamaica

So, two days later – off they went! Elizabeth made sure to drag the boat from it's hiding place nice and early, so Beckett still wouldn't know of it's whereabouts. She brought out the pouch of money she'd taken from the safe in her home – and then realized that she didn't quite need that much, and settled for taking just a little bit of it. She woke Beckett in a way that he felt was rather rude – but a kick in the side was all that he deserved, right?

And now Beckett was rowing; and covering up his winces and trying to appear eager. Elizabeth could easily see through his flimsy acting this time... covering up physical pain wasn't as easy as it seemed. Only a long, long, long, long way to go. Hooray.

"We going to Port Royale?" Beckett asked in a strained voice – Elizabeth noticed that he hadn't even bothered to speak in his usual grammatically correct way; it's are we going to Port Royale, actually, she wanted to say, but restrained herself.

"I think we'll just go to the nearest port," Elizabeth said, for once not feeling like drawing out Beckett's pain. She was going to have to keep a very close eye on him – the thing was, if she did that, he could do the same; and she was pretty sure that he wouldn't be incredibly happy with her purchasing enough bullets to arm an entire firing squad.

"Good, good," Beckett muttered. Elizabeth looked down at her compass, keeping a close eye on it – and it reminded her of, of course, Jack Sparrow. She shook herself off; he wouldn't come to visit her, would he? No, of course not.

Of course not.

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Beckett wasn't in a very good mood. An hour of rowing so far, and his bullet wound was screaming (well, not literally), and it had started to bleed again. Elizabeth didn't seem to notice; she was too busy looking nauseous. Beckett didn't want to ask.

"Why can't you row again?" Beckett suddenly demanded. It had completely slipped his mind! Why was he the one rowing?!

"I can't over-exert myself," Elizabeth said truthfully.

"What?! I'm tearing my shoulder apart because of your apathy?!" Beckett exclaimed, stopping in his rowing for a minute to glare at her. "That's... that's just horrible! It's bad enough that you shot me, you know..."

"Am I ever going to hear the end of this, Beckett?" Elizabeth sighed, but she laughed a little too, which made Beckett frown. "I shot you in the shoulder. I'm sorry. Alright?"

"I..." It was the first time Elizabeth had apologized; and she wasn't meant to apologize, so he could keep on being mad at her. What a cow. "Alright..."

"Good," Elizabeth said with a bright smile at him. He managed a smile at her too, though he was a little wary. She'd been in a foul mood this morning, stamping around, kicking him, telling him to hurry up irritably every few seconds. He just decided to put it down to her being a woman, and therefore unable to control her emotions.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth started moving about a lot. She shifted to the left, sighing loudly. She shifted right. She crossed her legs, and then put them underneath her. She started chewing on a nail, and swapping position every few minutes. Beckett watched her for a while as he rowed, before finally speaking.

"Are you alright, Miss Swann?" He asked her.

"I'm fine," She snapped, folding her arms, and shuffling to the side slightly.

"I... right..." Beckett was puzzled at the sudden cold tone in her voice, but decided not to mention it. He tried a smile at her – she frowned at him and went back to staring at the horizon, and then she folded her legs again, the other way. Beckett did another row; his energy lying low, he'd started taking long, leisurely strokes, when Elizabeth piped up again.

"Hurry up, Beckett," She said.

"Well, I'm going as fast as I-" He began, but he was immediately cut off.

"Hurry!" She hissed, "You can row faster then that, you feeble... weakling!" She moved to the left again, glaring at him. Beckett began pulling faster, resisting the urge to ask if they were there yet. He was going backwards – as you do when you're rowing, and couldn't see if any land had come into sight yet.

About half an hour later, he couldn't help himself.

"Are we nearly there yet?" He asked her. She nodded behind him, and he turned to look – and there it was. Mainland Jamaica. Yesssss!

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Problem time. Elizabeth had noticed that, just recently, she'd had to pay a lot of visits to the bathroom. In fact, to her, it seemed that she needed to take a wee every few minutes. Especially as there was no 'bathroom' on the island... enough said. There was one small, tumbledown outhouse, which was just disgusting. She'd seen enough of it to last a lifetime, but it was better then in the bushes.

And about halfway there, the familiar feeling had taken her again. And though she ordered Beckett urgently, he didn't generally put much heart into his rowing – so when they finally arrived at mainland Jamaica, she was ready to run to the nearest inn and dive into the little girls room.

The thing was... what to do with Beckett? Well, that was what the rope was for...

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Beckett wasn't too amused. After all, Elizabeth had told the barmaid that he was a convict and to make sure he didn't leave the pub, while she tied him to the counter. Charming. He could easily slip his arm out of the knot, but the barmaid was staring at him from the other side of the counter as if waiting for him to grow wings and fly away out of the window. And she also seemed very frightened.

Finally, Elizabeth showed up, smiling gratefully at the barmaid as she untied Beckett with slightly damp hands. She pulled on his sleeve to come outside now... time to get their supplies.

"Boo," Beckett said, putting both of his hands on the counter and leaning towards the barmaid. She jumped backwards into the wall with rather a lot of force, causing a few bottles to smash to the floor, and Beckett allowed a small smile to come to his lips.

Every cloud does have a silver lining.

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"Alright... think this is enough?" Elizabeth asked. They were both weighed down with lots and lots and lots of food – they dumped the sack of provisions into the rowing boat, and then Beckett coughed politely.

"You seem to have your fair share of clothing, Miss Swann," He said, "I think I'd like some too."

"Well, I'm not wasting my money on things for you," She said, turning her nose up. Beckett glared at her. "You're going to have to go and nick it yourself." Though she was joking, Beckett looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Alright, then..." He said, "But I'll need you to be the distraction." Elizabeth's first instinct was to decline – but then she thought about Beckett attempting to steal some clothing, and was so amused that she agreed, simply to see him try.

NB: Ohh dear. This is just asking for trouble, eh? Thanks for all of the reviews! I only just realized that I've gotten quite a few! Thank you to my hordes of screaming fans! (snerk)

Addition - some people might say that it's a bit early for cramp to start coming. It's up to three weeks-ish now, because days have passed and... well, etc. Also, Elizabeth's going to be one of those unlucky people feeling almost all of the pregnancy pains, because I feel like it and it'll confuse Beckett more.

Next update contains leeching breeches, skirting shirts and kidnapped cravats! Ungainly escape-attempt ends in ugly uncounsciousness and unremarkable uproar! (ack!) (and more rowing, too...)