FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
29—Promises
DISCLAIMER: Jack'n'Lizzie etc. do not belong to me. I make no money from the writing of this fan-fiction.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I greatly appreciate it.
And thank you for being patient with my updates (or, rather, lack-thereof). It's shaping up to be a busy semester, so hang in there with me and I promise to update as frequently as I can.
Thanks again and enjoy!
Elizabeth's heart was pounding so hard, it actually made her chest hurt. She was hardly aware of her surroundings, hardly aware that it was just a nightmare as she flew up in bed. Images of massive, crushing tentacles still danced on the edge of her subconscious. A caricature of Davy Jones, created by her wild imagination, laughed sinisterly in the back of her head, the image of Jack's lifeless body flashing before her over and over again.
The nightmare began to fade away as she was suddenly aware of being cold, small beads of sweat breaking on her forehead. She shivered and suppressed the tears that were threatening to fall as she pulled the sheets up, clutching them around her chest.
She jumped when the palm of Jack's hand found its way to the small of her back, feeling the bed shift as he sat up beside her.
"It's alright," he said quietly. "Just a bad dream, Lizzie. S'not real."
"It felt real," she replied, squeezing her eyes shut and promptly opening them again when greeted with the grisly images she was trying so hard to forget.
"Come to me," he said, his voice still soft. His fingers gripped the material of her nightshirt (or rather, his nightshirt, which she had borrowed).
Elizabeth looked over her shoulder and glared at him before uttering a firm, "No." She tossed the covers off her bare legs and spun around, placing her feet on the cool planks of wood beneath her. She ignored the chilly air, wondering how much longer it would be before they reached the Caribbean. She flung the curtains back that separated the sleeping quarters from the main living space. She didn't know exactly where she was going or what her intentions were, but she knew she just wanted to be alone.
She plopped down with a huff in his empty armchair, wishing the cabin had a fireplace, but was fully aware of the dangers of such a thing. It wasn't more than five minutes before he appeared in front of her. She glanced up at him coldly before pretending to be vastly interested in her cuticles.
"Well, Elizabeth?" She could see him cross his arms out of the corner of her eye, but didn't look up at him. She wanted to scowl at him, for he only called her "Elizabeth" when he was upset with her, which she thought was nervy. But she chose to ignore it. There were more important things to argue about.
"I'm still cross with you," she said coldly, finally staring up at him with a steely gaze.
"So I gathered." He crouched before her and lowered his voice. "An' just what does a poor gent have to do to earn a lady's forgiveness?"
"Leave her be, and if he is brave enough, dare to speak to her in the morning."
"Come back to bed, Lizzie."
She was mildly relieved to hear him call her by her pet name, but she still ignored it.
"No."
He let out a sigh of frustration. "Please come back to bed."
"No! You lied to me!"
"Oh. So that's what your cross about, then," he said, smirking at her.
"Of course that's what I'm cross about! What else do I have to be cross about?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, defensively.
Elizabeth looked up, watching Jack as he sauntered across the room. He sat down in his desk chair and leaned back, placing his hands behind his head and placing his bare feet up on the surface of the wood. She had half a mind to get up and slap the smug grin off his face, but she refrained, glaring daggers at him from her spot by the window.
"And just so ye know, Lizzie," he said, pausing to open a desk drawer and pluck out a bottle of rum, "I didn't lie to you. I simply withheld information."
"Oh yes, that's decidedly better," she quipped.
"Well," he said with a shrug, taking a sip of rum before speaking again. "It's not any better, darlin', but there is a difference. If yer goin' to be cross with me, I'd prefer it be for the right reasons."
At this, she lost her temper, all traces of self control flying out the window and disappearing into the inky black sky.
"You infuriating man!" she shouted.
"Shush," Jack said nonchalantly, waving his hand at her. "Ye'll wake the crew."
"I don't give a damn about the sodding crew!"
"Well, don't let them hear ye say it. Hurt their feelings, or whatnot."
"Shut up!" Elizabeth screamed. "Shut up and let me finish!" When he said nothing (as she was rather expecting he would), she stood up straight and continued, forcing her voice lower. She leaned forward on the desk, both her palms flat against the wood. "Whatever you wish to call it, Jack, you weren't honest with me. All I've asked of you since being here is for your honesty, and you couldn't even do that." She stood up straight again, crossing her arms across her chest. "How am I supposed to trust you if you cannot find it in yourself to trust me?"
She turned away from him then and let out a sigh, brushing her hair out of her face as she trudged back to bed, glad to not see the wounded expression that crossed his face. He could be so lovably pathetic and she knew if she looked at him, a large chunk of resolve would melt away, and at the current time, that was not something she could afford to lose.
She crawled back onto the mattress and pulled her pillow into her lap, holding it against her chest as she rocked slightly. It was all she could do to keep herself from bursting into tears. She should have known something like this would happen. More importantly, she couldn't figure out why it was letting it bother her so much. Maybe it was because of how strongly she felt for him and how terrified she was for his safety. Whatever it was, she was hurt, and she needed him to know it.
Several moments passed before several more. She thought that maybe he had silently slipped outside on deck, as only he could do, when suddenly he appeared before her, looking down at her with a solemn face.
"I knew I'd upset you," he said, his eyes darting away from her. "I didn't know I'd upset you this much."
"Well, you have."
Jack stood there before her, completely silent, for several moments. Finally, he sat at the foot of the bed, a safe distance away from her. She watched as he nervously scratched the top of his head, then his jaw, as she had noticed him do in the past.
"Can I fix it?" he finally asked, looking up at her. The fact that he looked directly at her, their eyes locking, was tremendously comforting. This time, however, it was she who broke the gaze.
"I don't know," she replied, her voice just above a whisper. She looked up at him again. "Can you?"
He smiled at her. Not a smirk, not a grin. A smile. "I'd like to. If the lady permits."
"Jack, I'm serious."
"So am I!" he wailed in a whiny, very un-Jack-like voice. Elizabeth sat there quietly, watching him carefully, trying to determine if he was being truthful or not. She watched as he closed his eyes lightly before pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath before looking up, staring into the dark expanse of the cabin. She wondered if he was purposefully avoiding her gaze. "Tell me what to do, Lizzie."
Elizabeth continued to watch him, forcing herself to remember who she was talking to. She knew being apologetic and open with his feelings was not exactly easy for members of the opposite sex, let alone Jack, who was more guarded and protective of his emotions than any man she was likely to meet. Still, she needed him to understand how important this was to her, how important it was that he at least tried to change some of his behaviors if their relationship meant anything at all to him.
Finally, she scooted towards him from her spot and cautiously reached for his hand, silently apologizing when he startled at the contact.
"I'm not going to tell you exactly what to do, Jack," she said softly, speaking to him in a tone that she would use with a child, but with meaning suitable for a man of Jack's age. "You need to figure that out on your own."
He was about to object, but she stopped him.
"And I know you can," she continued. "I have faith in you. What I need is for you to have faith in me."
"It's not like I didn't tell you about that giant, uncooked slice of calamari because I had no faith in you, Lizzie," he quickly said, leaving her no room for argument. "I simply didn't tell you because I knew how overwrought your little head was with thoughts of yer father an' Norrington… an' all ye left behind."
"I don't see it that way," she said.
"But—"
"No… I don't mean that. I believe what you say, Jack, and I appreciate your effort, but I don't see my life as one that got left behind. It's just… starting a new adventure, is all."
"That's it!" he said suddenly, his voice louder. "It's not just an adventure. My life isn't romantic… it's not all adventure and romance and journeys to exotic lands."
"I know," she said in a quiet, yet strong and reasonable voice. "It's dangerous and dirty and frightening. And that's what I'm trying to help you understand, Jack! That I understand it!" Jack stood there, staring at her, his eyebrows knotted together. She sighed… she'd confused him. She rose to her feet and walked to where he stood. Gently, she placed one hand on each of his shoulders. "I know that being a pirate isn't what I read about in books as a child. And that's the thing, Jack, I'm not a child anymore. I appreciate your efforts to shield me, and I fully comprehend why you didn't tell me… but it only makes me feel insulted."
"Never meant to insult you," he grumbled quietly.
"Then trust me. Don't keep things from me for the sake of my protection. I need you to have faith that I can handle it."
"Luv…"
"Jack, this is serious. This is your life we're talking about. Don't you want me to help you?"
"My life isn't worth you losing yours," he said quickly. The words hit her square in the chest, like they had manifested into something physical.
"You can't honestly believe that."
"Damn straight I do," Jack said sternly, crossing his arms.
Elizabeth stared at him, her eyes narrowing into slits, wondering how she was going to outwit the master. Jack was a smart man and she knew she wouldn't get her way entirely. She'd likely have to find a balance. And that's what relationships were about, weren't they? Striking a balance so both sides were happy?
"Fine." She crossed her arms. "What are your terms, then, Mr. Sparrow?"
"Captain Sparrow."
"Jack, not now."
"Alright, fine." He crossed his arms and pouted. "We'll do things your way. FOR NOW."
"What does that mean?" she asked, arching her eyebrow at him suspiciously.
"It means… where I go, you go. What I know, I promise, you will know." He paused and took a deep breath. "But the second something goes wrong… the very moment you get hurt… we do things my way. My rules. No argument."
Elizabeth mulled over his words. She could tell he was deadly serious. This was the side to Jack that even she rarely saw.
"Fine," she said, uncrossing her arms. She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, preparing to take full advantage of her womanly wiles. She pressed her chest firmly against his and ever-so-gently ran her knee on the inside of his thigh. She was so close to him, she heard his breath hitch in his throat and could feel his heart beating against hers. When she spoke, she was extra careful to make her throat low and sultry, the way she knew her pirate loved to be talked to. "But be it known, Captain Sparrow, that I'm only agreeing to your terms because I know I'll get my way in the end."
"Oh?" He visibly swallowed and she smirked up at him, her lips lingering awfully close to his own. "And what makes you so certain, Miss Swann?"
She laughed her best throaty, sensual laugh. "Because I know you won't let that happen…" She lightly tugged on the braids dangling from his chin. "…will you, Jack?" She slowly unbuttoned her shirt as she walked. She shrugged it off her shoulders, making her way back to the bed. She sat down on the edge of the mattress, taking full advantage of her situation. Or rather, his situation.
Jack, in all his predictability (of which he was blissfully unaware of), stalked towards her. He was ready to pounce on her, an anxious, feral grin spreading across his lips, when she stopped him by holding her leg up. The bottom of her foot stopped him as it came to rest against the center of his abdomen.
"Promise me, Jack," she suddenly said. Her voice was not coy. She was in no way trying to be sexy. She was deadly serious.
"I promise." She was immensely relieved to hear the same seriousness reflected in his own voice. "I promise I won't lie to you again."
"Lie?" she let her voice be coy that time, remembering his previous statement. "I thought you simply 'withheld information.'"
"Open for interpretation," he grinned, leaning over her. His mouth descended upon hers, and once again, peace was restored between the Sparrow and the Swann.
A/N: Okay, I know it's a little fluffy, but I felt like I needed to write that. Stay tuned—the next chapter will be big!
Thanks for reading, now go review! See you next time!
