The next morning, Jack waited on the deck at the top of the stairway, impatiently drumming one of his boots repeatedly against the floorboards. The moment Elizabeth reached the top step, still looking half-asleep with distant eyes and her shirt messily tucked into her trousers, Jack thrust forward a bundle of flowers into her arms. The arrangement was so large Elizabeth had to cradle it. Her mouth fell open in surprise and she looked ready to ask a question but Jack did not pause for a moment to allow for one.
"Considering your consideration, I reason it's time a bit of wooing take place."
"Jack, that is really not necess—"
"Oh, but it is, Lizzie. You see, now certain possibilities are playing out in my mind and I'm positively helpless against them."
Jack palmed at his chin thoughtfully. When Elizabeth realized her eyes fixated on his mouth, she shoved the offering back into Jack's chest.
"There is a thing called restraint," she replied haughtily.
Elizabeth frowned when Jack pushed the flowers into her arms once again only for her to refuse them once again. The two went on like this for a moment until Elizabeth shouted in irritation, dropped the bouquet, and stalked away.
"Restraint?" Jack called out. "Rid that word from of my vocabulary years ago."
"Some restraint is needed. Sensible."
"That's the old Lizzie talking." Jack told Elizabeth's retreating form, continuing to follow after her. "You're a member of the Black Pearl crew now. You can give into any and all desires. Leave that respectability nonsense for the birds."
Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, letting Jack circle in front of her. "So, what you're saying is I don't have to respect you, Captain?" she challenged with a smile.
"In terms of trysts, sometimes it's better when they don't," Jack said, his voice low, a barely-there smile of his own pulling at the corner of his lips as his fingers played through her hair.
Elizabeth sucked in a quick breath and sidestepped him.
"Perhaps I should be through considering cross-matching."
"Already? But life is so much sweeter when leaning into her fully, leaning into indulgence."
When Elizabeth made to rest against the edge of the ship, Jack slipped in before her. His mouth drew into a full smile, pleased by his own skillful timing when Elizabeth's hands landed on either side of him. She flushed and instantly wrapped her arms around herself.
Jack leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I will do everything in my power to win you over."
Elizabeth turned away from Jack, looking out to the sea instead, a thoughtful look coloring her features. "Is this cross-matching a habit of yours, Sparrow?"
"No. Usually we all three have a go at it." Jack pulled a face. "But it's better this time around we not as Will seems rather touchy lately."
"You nearly sailed on without him at our last stop."
"Most people wouldn't take that so personally."
Elizabeth shook her head at the dramatics in Jack's voice. "There isn't one of your erstwhile lovers we could sail to for Will? If we go through with this, he would get the short end of the stick."
"Yes, and so would the poor maiden, Will's modest proportions and all." Jack grew silent after the quick slight, his eyes brightening in realization. "Further considering, Swann?"
"I—" Elizabeth's eyebrows rose at being caught but she managed to school her expression. "I am only ensuring fairness. Hypothetical fairness."
"Hypotheticals. Dangerous territory, Lizzie. Although, you were never one to shy away from danger, were you?" he asked, drawing in close to her again. "Rather drawn to it, actually." Jack mused, his mouth a breath away.
With that, Jack left Elizabeth and bounded down the stairs, careful to step over the bouquet on the way.
Elizabeth exhaled a breath she was unaware she was holding then stepped forward to hold the bouquet once more. After making sure no crew members were around, she buried her face in them and deeply inhaled the ambrosial fragrance. Images began to play in her mind, images in which instead of leaving Jack took her face in his hands and claimed her mouth as his own. Elizabeth drew back sharply when she leaned further into the possibility, envisioning his hands claiming her further. She glared at the flowers, frustrated that she let her febrile imagination get the best of her yet again.
Elizabeth cast the bouquet over the edge of the ship and turned before she could watch them submerge into the ocean.
.
Later that day, Elizabeth snuck away from Will's side for provisions. She spread jam upon bread, sucking her fingers into her mouth when some fell over the edge. Elizabeth sensed eyes on her and glanced up, finding Jack resting against the doorway. He made a show of studying her mouth, still wrapped around the tips of her index and middle finger, then her eyes, sure to hold her attention for a moment too long before offering a smile. One smile shouldn't make a person feel so corrupt, she thought.
Elizabeth instantly dropped her hand to her side and wiped her hand on the front of her trousers. She shoved the bread into her mouth, refusing to meet Jack's eyes as she ducked under his arm to pass him.
"Oi," Jack murmured and, against her better judgement, Elizabeth turned to face him.
Jack's eyes locked on her lips again and he thumbed over the corner of them. Elizabeth watched silently as Jack raised his thumb to his mouth to run his tongue across the jam. She was entranced by the inviting gliding motion for an instant but managed to tear her gaze away before she was caught. At least, she hoped she managed such.
"Will you stop?" she hissed.
"Eating jam? Breathing? Being irresistible? Be more specific, love."
"Embarrassing me."
Jack raised his hands in reconciliation. "Lot more embarrassing had I not stepped in if you ask me," he muttered before making to leave.
Elizabeth exhaled a sigh of relief, however, she let her guard down too soon. Jack brushed her hair back to speak into her ear from behind.
"Desire is nothing to be embarrassed of, Lizzie."
Elizabeth tensed up turned—to counter Jack or meet his mouth with her own so she could put his tongue to proper use, she wasn't sure. But, when she did, Jack was already climbing up the stairs.
.
Elizabeth went through the remainder of day one and the majority of day two of consideration surprisingly unscathed by any further advances from Jack. However, her mind filled in where he left off. Elizabeth reasoned this was part of his plan, leaving her to stew for a while, blighting her mind from afar—and it worked. How it worked.
The moment she felt Will rise from their bed after a night of simply resting and make his way to the deck, she drew up her nightgown and let her fingers play inside. Elizabeth recalled Jack's tongue catching a drop of spiced liquor in the tavern then licking away jam from the day before then entirely imagined ways he might use it, her mind calling back to the journal entry she stumbled upon all those years ago.
Elizabeth pulled her lower lip into her mouth, feeling more rightfully excited than she felt for some time. She cursed Jack's name in her mind and then aloud in a faltering whisper. In that same moment, she imagined him reaching that hidden ecstasy above her, as if striking the foible of her sword—the weakest part—in succession, making her tremble.
At the end of the day on deck, remembering the dreamed-up images, Elizabeth's eyes glossed over. She grew distant for some time then started, returning into herself. She chastised her imagination, seemingly more active than most, or so she was always told by her governess growing up. In all of her daydreaming, watching the sun set, she was completely nescient to Jack approaching her. She turned at a tap on her shoulder.
"Lizzie?" Jack cleared his throat and corrected himself. "Miss Swann, how is your consideration going?"
"Of?" she asked, feigning confusion.
"The cross-matching," Jack reminded, an edge offense in his voice.
"Oh yes, that." Elizabeth swallowed down a smile at getting a rise out of him then shrugged. "I haven't given it much thought."
After studying her, Jack gave Elizabeth a knowing look but played along nonetheless. "I've given it enough thought for the both of us, I'd imagine, when time allows," he paused, locking eyes with her once more, "in my cabin."
Elizabeth cleared her throat and tore away her shared gaze. She tried to ignore the rush of heat pooling underneath every inch of her skin at the thought of Jack calling upon memories of her in the way she had of him that morning.
"You're running out of time, Sparrow," she said then raised her eyebrows in a challenge. "Is that all you came to share? More words?"
"Actually, I hoped you would grant me the pleasure of," Jack dropped his voice and brandished a guitar from behind his back, "serenading you."
"I don't see how music will help your case," she answered, sure to keep her voice cold and clipped although there was an eagerness niggling at the back of her mind. "But alright. Go on."
Jack folded his legs beneath him and Elizabeth followed suit, looking to him expectantly. As soon as his fingers skillfully began working the guitar strings, Elizabeth's grip on her knees became a bit tighter. She willed herself to not lean into the music so, to no rest her face in her hand and wistfully close her eyes.
She willed herself to not imagine following Jack ashore on an island entirely their own, hopping into his set of footprints and laughing when she stumbled and he turned at just the right moment to catch her. She willed herself to not imagine behaving like children together, chasing the tide then running in the opposite direction before it could touch their skin when it chased back, making a game of it, the winner allowed a dare for the loser, sure to result in a sexual favor. She willed herself to not imagine, once the sun fully set, wrapping up in Jack's arms and kissing him on a backdrop of sand. Clearly her will wasn't that strong.
Elizabeth came to and instantly pulled her hand from the side of her face. It was more manageable to deny Jack when dreaming of entirely physical matters that she could share with anyone but when dreaming of moments of heartfelt tenderness, the kind she knew rested inside of her Captain and that she seemed to be one of the few to uncover, well, that would only make the cross-matching more difficult to deny. Elizabeth certainly couldn't let on that it was that approach, the light teasing and challenging he seemingly reserved only for her, instead of polished and packaged wooing and seduction, that would break her, make her finally give in. She simply missed Will, she told herself, as he grew distant ever since he agreeing to the possibility of the cross-matching.
Elizabeth rose to her feet and Jack stopped playing, standing a moment after to gently catch her arm.
"I can play a different one," he insisted, and the near-desperation in Jack's voice made her want to stay. As if the wrong melody was why she had to leave that instant. She wished it were that simple.
"You and your rapacious hands," she murmured, drawing her arm from his touch.
Jack surrendered his hands then shrugged. "You characterize them so. You say rapacious, I say hopeful. Empty. Longing."
Jack touched her arm again, meeting her eyes as if asking for permission. When Elizabeth only watched on in curiosity, not pulling away, his touch smoothed up her arm then her shoulder then neck. Jack stepped forward, his other hand finding the side of her face, and Elizabeth felt her skin turn hot at the possibility of kissing him. She would hang all restraint if he kissed her.
She angled her face away from his then stepped back. "The sun's down. I should turn in for the night."
"Let me play you to sleep then."
"I bid you goodnight," Elizabeth said, "Captain."
She made haste to her cabin shared with Will, crawled into bed, drew the sheet over her head, and shut her eyes tight. When Will asked if she was going to change into her nightdress, she remained still, blocking out the question, what Jack must hand looked like abandoned with his guitar in hand, and the rest of the world.
.
The next morning, Elizabeth rose early due to turning in early. She witnessed the rising sun, shared polite conversation with crew members nearing the end of their rotation, and successfully busied her mind with matters outside of the cross-matching for the first time since the proposition was made. She was in the middle of sharpening her blade when she heard the rhythmic sound of heavy footsteps cross the deck.
A drawn-out sigh hung in the air and Elizabeth glanced in the direction. Of course the sigh belonging to Jack. She continued sharpening her blade. Elizabeth pulled her lower lip into her mouth to stifle a laugh when after a moment Jack sighed even louder, sure to add an intensified air of wistfulness. Elizabeth looked up, swallowing down further amusement when she caught the end of Jack turning, pretending as if he were watching the sea all along instead of her over his shoulder. When he heaved another sigh, Elizabeth sheathed her blade at the belt at her waist and crossed over to Jack as it was clear he would continue on until she indulged him.
"You sound troubled."
"However could you tell?"
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at Jack in reply.
"Well, aren't you going to ask me what's the matter?" he prompted.
"What's the matter, Jack?" Elizabeth asked with a sigh of her own, crossing her arms before her chest.
"Oh, Lizzie, I find myself in possession of a smallsword, however,"—Jack revealed the weapon, neatly wrapped in parchment—"I prefer a hanger. If only someone were willing to take it off my hands." Jack looked to Elizabeth expectantly. When she only stood there, blinking, he repeated, "Off my hands," in a whisper, as if reminding her of a forgotten line. He offered the sword forward, nudging her gently.
Elizabeth shook her head at Jack but accepted his offer anyway, tearing away the paper and finding herself breathless from the beauty of the weapon. She ran her fingertip along the pommel, an intricate swan figure, crafted at the hilt of the sword.
"Yes, if only someone were willing to take it off your hands." Elizabeth turned the sword over in her hand, testing its weight. She watched the sunlight catch the blade before meeting Jack's eyes. "However, I think we should see if it truly suits me first. Help me break it in?"
"Can't think of a better way to spend the morning."
Jack drew his hanger and exaggeratedly placed his hand behind his back, making show of giving Elizabeth the advantage. She rolled her eyes and went in immediately, narrowing her eyes when he blocked her strike. They circled each other, waiting out who would make the next move until Elizabeth couldn't stall any longer. She attacked again and Jack not only blocked the attack but drew his hanger along her sword, moving in close. As she retreated, Jack made his first attack but Elizabeth managed to step out of range, quick on her feet. Elizabeth played on the defensive for a moment, smiling some at Jack chasing after her, the embodiment of the past few days. When he made to strike again, she raised her sword high above her head, sharply blocking him with a backhand attack.
Elizabeth felt the edge of the ship cut into her back and they both stilled for a moment, her chest nearly resting against Jack's, heaving in time. Elizabeth angled her face up for a better look at him and instantly regretted the action, his mouth that much closer, that much more inviting. When Jack's hand found Elizabeth's waist, drawing her forward, she surrendered fully, dropping the sword. Jack's weapon followed soon after, falling to the deck with a clatter then clinking against hers.
"About your consideration?" Jack prompted, the question a breath away from her lips.
Elizabeth lived in his challenging gaze for a moment, overwhelmed by memories of a history of inexorable desire—the found journal, the overheard appraisal of Jack's capabilities in the tavern—then a history of lighter exchanges—his playful behavior just now, singing and drinking with him on a nowhere island—then all of his advances the past two days right up to this very moment.
"Life is so much sweeter when leaning into her fully, leaning into indulgence," Jack told her. Only, Elizabeth worried this was more than indulgence, with all of their history, the spoken and the unspoken. Even so, she would never know until she spent more time alone with him. She had no choice but to relent, she reasoned, leaning to the second half of the phrase "cross-matched."
"Fine."
Elizabeth rebalanced herself due to Jack raising his hands triumphantly, the reaction not exactly what she expected. She raised an eyebrow at him but found herself still smiling, always finding herself unable to keep up with which version of the Captain would present himself with such mercurial behavior.
"Perfect!" Jack was already pacing and ringing his hands together but paused, growing serious again. "Only, there are rules to this, Lizzie. Well, one rule," Jack explained in a low voice before offering an alluring smile, all calculated charm and gold teeth. "You must leave matters of the heart at the door."
"Oh," Elizabeth huffed, resting a hand on her hip, making an effort to not let her concerns become known, or else the cross-matching may end before it could even begin. "As if I could have 'matters of the heart' for you."
"Swimmingly," Jack said flatly. "Well, it's settled then. Cabin or closet?"
"I will not be rushed into a closet."
"Good thinking." Jack nodded then tilted up Elizabeth's chin. "I want to take my time with you," he agreed, raking his eyes over her.
Elizabeth felt herself grow hot, but she tore away from his touch. "I can still change my mind."
"Oh, but you won't. Not after dinner."
"Dinner?"
Jack left without an explanation and Elizabeth hid a smile with her palm, turning over the range of excitement and anxiety in her mind at what she just got herself into.
.
Elizabeth, standing before a mirror, started when the slam of the cabin door announced Will's presence.
"Will," she greeted primly, continuing to pin up her hair. When he didn't reply, Elizabeth turned to see him wordlessly holding a cage in one hand and a piece of parchment in the other. "What is that?"
"The damn monkey. He wasn't joking."
"Not that. The—"
Will stepped forward and forced the invitation into Elizabeth's hand then passed her to sit the cage on a trunk then lay on their bed with a sigh.
Elizabeth read over the ornate invitation in silence outside of the caged animal's chatters, rolling her eyes at Jack's written dramatics. It was an invitation to Will to attend "the ravishing of his own bonny lass." He didn't have to be such a sore winner about it, she thought, but then again, that was Jack's nature.
"You never dress up for me," Will sulked and Elizabeth faced him, a little affronted.
"We don't do anything worth dressing up for," she retorted.
Elizabeth felt somewhat sorry for snapping initially, but even after tasting the sharp comment on her tongue, she stood by it. As of late, Will found her a convenience, taking on the role of an absent love. She found Jack's advances felt rather nice, being pursued and pursued so strongly.
"So you're going through with the cross-matching?"
Elizabeth turned her head over her shoulder, meeting his eyes. "Yes."
"Well, since I can't reason with you,"—Will stood and stepped in close—"the least I can do is help you."
Elizabeth smiled in thanks then Will took over buttoning the back of her dress. He pulled at the fabric rather roughly, however. Given Will's thinly-veiled spite, Elizabeth was further glad she decided against a corset. Her hands shook some as she smoothed out the front of the dress, stolen at their last stop, as she thought she ought to take a moment to consider how this all might end. Only, Elizabeth found herself forming a horrible habit of allowing herself to live fully, rashly, and unbothered in the moment, her Captain already rubbing off on her, she thought with a smile.
.
Elizabeth waited in a doorway in the guts of the Black Pearl, playing with her hands from nerves. She absentmindedly counted wooden slats before registering Jack approaching her. Elizabeth squared her shoulders, performing her usual air of confidence. When Jack reached out a hand to smooth along the emerald green fabric at her waist, she stepped just a touch out of reach and raised her chin defiantly. Jack smiled some and, although she did not allow his touch, his eyes didn't leave an inch of her untraced.
"Well, Sparrow, this life-changing dinner," she reminded, "are we to have it? Or are you going to continue on gawking as if it's me you're planning to eat?"
"That comes after, love." Jack offered a hand and he looked rather pleased at the flush coloring her face.
Elizabeth remembered dining at the very same table with Barbossa but the space felt completely different, completely changed. Although the long table remained, Jack drew two chairs close to each other on the same side instead. He pulled Elizabeth's chair and when she made to sit she had to catch herself on the edge of the seat as Jack drew the chair clean out from under her. She leaned her head back to glare at him but he only smiled before properly helping.
She half-expected Jack to clap his hands and signal bumbling crew members forward but, instead, he leaned in her ear and murmured something about going off to find someone to wait on them. Ever the eccentric, Jack kicked the door from the next room over open and returned with a towel slung over his shoulder and a balancing act of plates and mulled wine. He made a show of pointing out all of the notes of the wine before she drank, committing every bit to the part. Elizabeth hid her face at his ridiculous nature but couldn't help but feel charmed, finally alone with him, the lighter side of him. When Jack returned once more, performing not as a waiter but once again himself, he returned Elizabeth's smile over the rim of the glass of wine.
"Saw a glimpse of the waiter in the back. Rather good looking fellow."
Elizabeth shook her head at Jack. "Something of a wonder, alright."
Elizabeth's eyes fell to the floor and she scooped up a book that was tucked under the table. It was the same one he was reading when Will and her approached him for advice.
"What are you reading?" Elizabeth asked, thumbing through to a page when Jack didn't make to stop her as before. Elizabeth scanned a passage and felt heat rush to her face instantly, an involuntary noise falling from her mouth. She shut the book closed and shoved it into his hands. "Jack Sparrow reading filth. I can't say I'm surprised."
Elizabeth was sure to add the flippant quality to her voice she usually used around him. However, on the inside, she was aching to know what it would feel like to recreate the descriptions. Her mind spun away without her and she lost herself enough in imagining his touch that when the true thing came, his hand on her arm, it nearly made her start.
"Can't say you're put off though, now can you?"
"No," Elizabeth admitted, meeting his challenging eyes. "I can't very well say that either." Her gaze found his mouth and she felt another flash of heat that she forced down with one last swallow of mulled wine. She tilted the glass in her hand, watching the softly reflected dancing glow of candlelight.
Properly spirited and floating some after dinner, Elizabeth followed Jack to his cabin. She had her arm linked around Jack's, pressed in close enough to his side that she could smell the frankincense on his neck. It took everything within her to keep some dignity and not nestle her face into his skin and beg him in a whisper to kiss her already, to take her already. The heady alcohol was getting to her, she reasoned. Yes, it was just the spirits, she assured herself, not a longing for Jack since the moment he saved her from her fall into the ocean. Hell, since she first read of him, an irresistible man of her imagination. It wasn't that at all.
Furthermore, she could still back out on the cross-matching if things didn't go on as well as she hoped. But, in that moment, Elizabeth felt as if there wasn't a wrong exchange in the world she could have with Jack. She would do nearly anything, go through nearly anything for his closeness, to witness a lightness he couldn't show as Captain or nemesis or fugitive.
When Jack pulled a key from his coat pocket and made to insert it, Elizabeth tugged at his shoulder, stilling him.
"Remember. You must leave matters of the heart at the door, Jack," Elizabeth whispered, a smile fleeting across her lips after echoing his words from before.
Jack met her eyes and shook his head. "Never a concern for me, Elizabeth."
"You're certain?" Elizabeth asked, although she voiced the question with an intention that was directed at herself.
Jack raised his eyebrows at her then made a show of drawing an "x" over his chest. He set his brow low and his mouth to the side in a performative assuring expression.
"Cross my heart, love."