Although Elizabeth was still antagonized by that wretched creature of worry, she allowed herself to enjoy a fleeting moment of bliss upon the deck of the Black Pearl. The sun was high. The sea breeze was refreshing. Her clothes were comfortable. Matters weren't that bad at all. Well, save for Will being in possible grave danger. Suddenly, that pestering beast of anxiousness returned.
Elizabeth shut her eyes and sighed deeply, trying to call the semblance of relaxation from earlier to wash over her to soothe her tenseness but no such feeling came. Her mouth drew downward in a frown as she scanned the deck. Her brow creased when she noticed Jack wasn't there to parade around and behave boisterous and commandeering. Elizabeth longed for the distraction and entertainment he could provide, to soak in Jack's carefree nature to ease her own ever-persistent worry. Her eyes fell upon Gibbs who was scribbling in a sea journal. She sauntered over to him with a purpose.
"Where's Jack?" she asked, saving time by excluding preamble of any sort.
"Captain's quarters," Gibbs answered, and when Elizabeth immediately made to trek to the guts of the ship, he called out, "Best leave him be though! Jack's vexed by something, something terrible. It seems," he added as an afterthought.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. So, they were keeping something from her?
"He's not in the best mood is all."
"And neither am I. Jack's the one who got us all into this mess. He owes me a chat!" she insisted, not even bothering to look over her shoulder as she spoke.
Elizabeth bounded down the stairs and shifted her weight from foot-to-foot once she reached the door to Jack's cabin. She rested a hand on the handle then stalled a bit. Elizabeth straightened her shirt and quickly freed her hair from a braid. She found herself reaching up to pinch at her cheeks to give them a natural flush but she returned her hands to her sides in haste. She shook her head at the girlish desire to appeal to Jack. It was Jack, she reminded herself. She wasn't sure what got into her lately.
You just miss Will, Elizabeth's mind supplied helpfully, and she nodded absently, the thought reasonable. She liked conversation with Jack was all. She was just going to talk to him.
Elizabeth opened the door, finding Jack pacing back and forth, holding a glass jar close to his side with one hand while biting at the nails of the other. He was muttering under his breath, talking to himself in a voice drawn up high and queer. Elizabeth stood silent in the doorframe, tilting her head. Jack like this was a rather poor sight. Her state of worry seemed of low significance compared to his.
Jack noticed Elizabeth and stilled before instantly dropping his hand to his side and placing the jar on his desk. He schooled his expression and raked a hand over his hair then shook it, feigning his usual unbothered nature. Jack offered Elizabeth a performative smile.
"Lizzie! Just couldn't stay away." Jack glanced down and tenderly shoved the jar further back on the writing desk to ensure its safety. "Rethinking my offer?"
"Hardly." Elizabeth rolled her eyes, recalling the proposal, most awkward in nature, from earlier that day. She then recalled other words of Jack's. "My tremendous intuitive sense of the male creature informs me you are," Elizabeth started, her voice lilting in a teasing manner, "troubled." She shut the door then leaned against it. Elizabeth smiled when Jack pulled a face at her, recognizing the statement, the turning of his own words back on him.
"Couldn't be further from the truth, love. I'm fine," he replied, resting a hand on the jar. She noticed the way his voice nearly faltered on the last word.
Elizabeth stepped up to Jack in a slow rhythm, her hands behind her back and her bottom lip pulled into her mouth.
"More than fine actually. Fit as a fiddle," Jack said, and with the way his brow was set, Elizabeth could tell even he couldn't believe his own lie.
"Then you won't be needing this," Elizabeth said the last word in a rush, pulling the jar of land into her arms then holding it up to inspect it closely.
She glanced up when Jack hummed out in irritation. His hands flailed in front of him, reaching out helplessly before forming swinging fists at his side, looking every bit like an infuriated child. Soon after, he schooled his expression into a glare.
"Lizzie. Elizabeth," he corrected, using her full name and dropping his voice low to sound stern. He spoke his next words with fastidious care. "Give me back my jar of dirt."
"What could a little jar of dirt be of use for?" she wondered, swinging it gently. Jack's eyes followed every swing as if watching the pendulum on a clock. Elizabeth walked towards a porthole then leaned against the wall of the Pearl. "What is it you're keeping from me, Jack?"
"All in your head, dearie. Nothing's wrong in old Jack's world. Promise."
"If nothing's wrong, then this little jar can't be of any use." Elizabeth swung open the window and held out the jar with both hands. She looked over her shoulder at Jack who had his hands covering his mouth, most likely to stifle a yell. "Tell me what's going on right now, Jack Sparrow, or the dirt gets it."
"Fine fine fine." Jack waved Elizabeth forward. "Give her to me!"
Elizabeth returned the glass jar and she shook her head as Jack drew it to his chest. With the way he held the jar, Elizabeth thought Jack might go far enough to start cooing at it.
"Now talk."
Jack looked up and shot her a glare then shifted the jar under his arm once more. He wordlessly offered Elizabeth his hand. Elizabeth closed the space between them, looking upon the dressing on Jack's hand with worry. She undid the gauze slowly.
Elizabeth couldn't help but gasp when she saw a dark mark on his palm.
"Jack, why didn't you tell me of this?"
"I knew you would get all… maternal." Jack pulled a face at her.
"What does it mean?"
"Davy Jones thinks I still ought to owe him one hundred years of servitude upon the Flying Dutchman but I think his reasoning is all folly and he's nothing but a low-down, rotten, hideous, conniving, foul, black-hearted, hideous, infuriating, slimy, wretched—Did I mention hideous?—vile—"
"Jack."
"Mollusk-faced monstrosity," Jack finished all in the same breath.
Jack pulled his lip into his mouth then sighed. He shut his eyes and started muttering under his breath again. Elizabeth carefully wrapped the gauze back and smiled to herself when she realized Jack was counting backwards from ten. After finishing with one, Jack sighed and blinked his eyes open.
"Better?"
"No. It didn't help." Jack frowned. "Nothing helps anymore. Not counting, not the sea breeze, not rum—not even this bloody jar of dirt!" Jack paused after growling out the last bit while shaking the glass jar. He pulled it in to rest against his cheek. "I didn't mean it, Darling."
I thought he only called me that, Elizabeth thought, then nearly rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness. She was not jealous of a jar of dirt.
Elizabeth reached for the jar and Jack, knowing better this time, hummed low in warning and pressed the jar even closer against the side of his face.
"Jack, put the dirt down."
He relented, placing the glass jar back onto the desk, however, he still held onto the lid protectively.
"From the sounds of it, Davy Jones involved and all, it's perfectly natural to feel afraid," Elizabeth started in a quiet, nurturing tone.
"I'm not afraid," Jack blurted out. "I'm not!" he insisted, his voice drawing higher.
Elizabeth gave Jack a look. "Anxious then," she corrected. "Before you share anything further, you need to relax."
A thoughtful expression washed over Elizabeth's features as she entertained an idea in her mind. She turned over the thought for a while, wondering if she were brave enough to go through with it.
Elizabeth circled behind Jack then placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Relax," she repeated in a whisper, gently applying a downward pressure to his shoulders. She smiled when Jack sunk into the chair pulled out from his writing desk.
Elizabeth kneaded into Jack's shoulders, biting her lip as she massaged him. She found her own worry dissipating as well, displacing her own needs onto Jack. It felt nice to have someone to take care of.
Jack remained tense for a moment, clinging onto the glass jar, but after a while he melted under her touch and leaned his head back. Jack blinked up at Elizabeth with half-lidded eyes and her own fell to his slightly parted mouth. She was struck with sudden temptation.
"Oi, when did you get so good at that, Swann?" Jack asked, his voice a barely-there entranced rasp. Something about his voice set low like that made Elizabeth feel a flutter in the pit of her stomach.
"Just a natural, I suppose," Elizabeth answered, off-hand with a shrug.
She didn't feel like mentioning Will or else her worry would rise again. She wanted to lose herself for a moment with Jack. They both needed it. They needed each other, didn't they?
Elizabeth's fingers tickled up the skin at the back of Jack's neck to massage his scalp. Jack closed his eyes, sighing as his index finger drew little absentminded circles into the lid of the glass jar. Eventually, Elizabeth stepped around him, leaning against the writing desk, satisfied with her work.
"Better?"
"Somewhat," he said, straightening up in his chair. Jack cleared his throat then met her eyes. "Lizzie," he murmured, "I haven't felt the touch of a woman in a long time and—"
"Jack," Elizabeth cut him off, making sure to sound every bit scandalized instead of interested.
"No, no! No." Jack hummed as he drummed his fingers against the jar, sounding nervous again, dancing around his request. "Just…" Jack fell silent again. He looked to the floor of the ship and mumbled something indiscernible.
"What?"
He barely moved his lips, quietly repeating himself once more.
"You're going to have to speak up, Jack, I—"
"I said, 'Can't you just hold me a while?'" he admitted, raising his voice slightly too loud. His brow furrowed when he realized this and took in his own words, grimacing at his perceived weakness. Jack's shoulders slumped forward and he avoided Elizabeth's eyes again. "Please."
Elizabeth wasn't sure she ever heard the word come from Jack and something about him uttering the one syllable, soft and empty, helpless and needy, warmed her heart. Moments ago, Jack poked fun at her, calling her behavior "maternal" and now he was asking for just that.
Elizabeth offered a tender smile then took Jack by the hand, raising him to his feet. She pulled Jack close to her chest. It was a little uncomfortable at first, the glass cylinder pressing against their middles but then Jack shifted the jar under his arm again. His free hand held at her back desperately, clinging to her as if to a last hope. Elizabeth started to gently sway them side-to-side. She closed her eyes and sighed. This was exactly what she needed as well.
"Jack," she huffed, stepping back when she felt his hand slip to the small of her back. She frowned at him, wondering how much more he would try for had she not protested.
"Pirate," Jack simply replied, shrugging and wearing a weak smile. He sat back down and tipped the jar back and forth like an hour glass for a moment then rested it on the chair between his legs again. "This really could be it. My ending."
"You had a good run."
Jack glared at Elizabeth's unhelpful comment and she smiled at him.
"I'm only teasing. You'll make it out of this like all your other scrapes."
Jack leaned his head back then sulked like a child. "I'm feeling unusual again."
"These are unusual times, aren't they?"
Elizabeth felt her own uneasiness creep back in and she had the strangest need for escapism overcome her. She needed it. Escapism. She needed Jack.
Elizabeth worried her lip between her teeth then, letting herself slip into her want, made for the door.
"You're just going to leave your Captain behind during a time of need?" Jack called after Elizabeth, affronted. "Some loyal crew member you are—"
Jack's voice trailed off when Elizabeth didn't leave through the door, when he noticed that, instead, she locked it. She turned to face Jack and nearly laughed at the expression on his face followed by a near-audible swallow.
"Lizzie?" Jack tilted his head to the side, his grip on the jar tightening as she walked towards him once more. "Why did you lock—?"
Elizabeth kissed the question from Jack's lips, knowing if she hesitated she would find reason and that was the last thing she wanted right now. She gasped against his mouth, shocked by her own actions, but she eventually smiled into each kiss. She felt fulfilled, finally allowing herself to indulge in all things Jack Sparrow. She sighed at the word. Finally.
Elizabeth settled atop Jack's lap, straddling the chair. Her arms found his neck and Jack's hands found her thighs, his finger's digging into them when she bit at his lower lip for fun, just to see how he would respond. Jack eagerly opened the kiss and Elizabeth felt her heart race. She angled her head and moaned at the feeling of his tongue against hers, jutting her hips forward—
Elizabeth frowned at the feeling of her pelvis meeting glass.
"Jack, the jar."
"Well, I can't up and neglect her, can I?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Jack."
"But Tia Dalma said—"
"Jack."
Jack took Elizabeth by the waist and forced her back some then gently rested the jar of dirt on the floorboards of the Black Pearl.
"She's just jealous," Jack whispered conspiratorially, his last word barely spoken before Elizabeth took his face in her hands and kissed him once again, releasing all of her concealed desire for that ridiculous, ridiculous man.
Elizabeth's hands drew up Jack's chest, balling up his shirt and pulling him closer.
"Should have kept a jar of dirt around sooner," Jack muttered against her mouth.
Elizabeth laughed then drew Jack's shirt over his head. She let out a shuddering exhale at his chest, decorated with tattoos and scars. She burned to kiss down every inch of each one of them, but there were more pressing matters. Well, one pressing matter. She felt it.
Elizabeth kneeled before Jack to undo his belt, shushing him with a finger to his lips when he started that awful talking again.
"I was just going to say—What's gotten into you, Swann?" Jack mumbled against her index finger.
When Elizabeth didn't remove her finger, Jack bit down on it playfully. She gasped then laughed a little, pulling her hand down.
"You need to relax," she explained simply, palming over his want, "and I need to relax. I think we should both just,"—Elizabeth slipped her hand underneath fabric to take Jack into her hand, sighing at the feeling of him—"relax."
Elizabeth glanced up at Jack and pulled her lower lip into her mouth, her hand teasing over his skin. She was thinking of him and only him, not worried about a thing.
Elizabeth leaned forward to whisper once more, "Relax," before taking him into her mouth. She fought off a smile when Jack muttered a curse word and instantly threaded his fingers into her hair. She wasn't quite sure what to do but even then, she didn't feel a single worry or care. All she could think about was how much she enjoyed this, making Jack feel good. She committed to memory each sigh, each moan, a barely-there "Swann" gasped out in surprise.
Elizabeth jerked her head back to give Jack a glare when his hips rocked forward on their own accord, rather forcefully might she add.
"You started it." Jack returned the frown. "And that just now? Rather uncalled for."
Elizabeth gasped out an incredulous laugh. "I didn't do anything!"
"Yes, you did!"
"What thing?"
"You know what you did. That thing with your tongue when—when you—Yes. That. That's what you…" Jack's fingers threaded back into Elizabeth's hair and his voice trailed off. "Yes," he whispered.
Elizabeth's eyebrows drew together from her overwhelming want, excited by each moment Jack seemed to unravel further, all by her doing. This was another one of their games. She rather enjoyed this one, and she finally knew the secret to shutting him up.
Elizabeth liked the way Jack tenderly, just barely, guided her, helping her find a rhythm that was just right for the both of them. She opened the back of her throat and moaned at the feeling of him, nearly too much for her. She could barely breathe. She could barely think. Which was perfect. The last thing she wanted to do was think about a supernatural—previously believed as mythical—pirate, an elusive chest, and the no doubt grave danger impending upon the lot of them.
Jack's hips jutted forward once again and he whispered out a rushed apology, his hands framing the sides of her face. Elizabeth simply wrapped her fingers around his loose belt and tugged him forward.
"You want me to? It's okay if I…?"
Elizabeth gently nodded and she fought off a smile when Jack exhaled a wavering sigh at the sensation. He tilted her head back to stand and Elizabeth wrapped her hands around the back of his knees, gripping onto Jack tightly. There was a part of her that hated kneeling before him, submissive, but the other part of her relished in the relief of relenting to him, giving over control. She rather liked simultaneously easing his worries along with her own and, well, generally speaking it was just all-around good fun.
Jack's breathing eventually became shallow and his fingers stopped pulling at her hair and—There it was. She tasted him upon her tongue and she moaned around him, the sound matching his sigh. Elizabeth wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood, searching Jack's dark eyes. His eyes didn't waiver, even as he worked on buckling his belt. Her chest felt tight, not with shame but with incessant want. She wanted him. Needed him, her mind corrected. All of him. She thought this would be enough, a quick heated moment they could both agree to leave behind once they parted, for good this time. Wasn't this just a game? She won already. She should be finished with him.
Jack leaned forward to toy at a strand of Elizabeth's hair.
"Better?" Elizabeth checked. Her voice sounded to her own ears like one she didn't recognize. Her face grew hot. This was all so strange, so thrilling.
"Most definitely."
Jack's gaze felt like too much as the realization of what she just did for him actually settled over her. Elizabeth looked away and brushed hair from her eyes.
"That will teach you to call it 'Darling,'" she muttered.
Jack continued to study Elizabeth for a moment and, once her words registered, he threw his head back in a barking laugh.
"That's truly what this was about?" he asked, breathless, honest to God near-wheezing. "Ohh, Swann. Elizabeth. Lizzie." Jack took her face in his hands, the tail end of his laughter lacing through each uttered take on her name. "You don't know the things you do to me," he admitted, and something about the way he emphasized the word "things" made heat pool between her legs. "You are contrary to ubiquitous. A treasure of the sea. You? Are a rarity." Jack tapped Elizabeth on the nose and she wrinkled it in response.
"It is rather ridiculous, isn't it? Jealousy over an inanimate object," Elizabeth agreed, forcing a laugh. Her hand found her arm for a moment before she wrapped both around herself. "I guess I just," Elizabeth took a shallow breath, "want to feel that needed by you."
"I know the feeling of jealousy over inanimate objects considering old boy William has the personality of a mop," Jack muttered. "And while it's difficult and somewhat maddening to admit, I," he paused, "I think I do need you, Lizzie."
Elizabeth dropped her hands to her sides and she looked around the cabin, feeling a certain shyness overcome her.
"I think I need you too," she admitted. She took his hand into her own when tenderness altered his features in the loveliest way. "Can you help me relax?" Elizabeth asked, hating how small her voice sounded. She looked up to Jack, hopeful and starry-eyed.
"Elizabeth." Jack stepped forward to press a kiss to her lips then grinned, his usual carefree nature restored for the time being. "You couldn't possibly think I would be so selfish. Perhaps in other matters but not in matters such as these."
Elizabeth gasped when Jack's hands untucked her shirt and found their way up the front of it in the same fluid motion.
"What happened to, 'Take what you can, give nothing back?'" Elizabeth asked, reciting a saying she heard Jack share with Gibbs once.
"That's if the giving isn't pleasurable, Swann. I can be a giving man when I want." Jack leaned forward. "And I want," he murmured, and she nearly laughed at the desire in his voice.
Elizabeth drew her arms around Jack's neck, sighing into an open kiss. It was positively blissful, giving herself over to curiosity, to absolute pleasure. She turned her head away to steady her breathing for a moment. Jack kissed at her neck and thumbed over her nipples and it was all beginning to become too much in the best of ways. Elizabeth stepped back to lean against the writing desk, to grab onto something tangible besides Jack for proof that this was all real. However, she faltered, stumbling over something.
"Jar of dirt!" Jack's voice jumped up quite a few octaves at the sight of the knocked over jar, land spilling out at a rapid rate.
Jack leaned down, hastily scooping earth back into that damn jar. However much she wanted to huff out a performative scoff, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. She chose Jack, and nothing less than Jack would she get. Dirt and all.