Title: Foggy Night Serenade 6/?
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't sue
Summary: Afterglow, or something like it
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Jack awoke, reaching for the pale figure next to him and encountering only empty space. Instantly awake he sat up, looking around the corner of the bed to find her wrapped in the counterpane, her hair unbound and the leaded glass of the window giving her an ethereal glow. She was silent, her eyes watching the sea, her heart pounding, but she knew the exact moment he woke up, she could hear the change in his breath and then the quick indrawn that said he knew she wasn't where she was supposed to be. Isabelle played over every second of the afternoon before, they'd fallen asleep, she'd let him hold her, her dreams enveloping her until late in the night she'd had a nightmare. Shaken awake, Jack had given her ample reason to fall back to sleep in the blankets with nothing but oblivion to keep her company.
If she were honest with herself, she'd acknowledge that she was sore. But she wouldn't, that would imply that he'd bested her and she just wouldn't let that be so. He'd sworn it changed nothing, what'd happened between them, but he was so very wrong. It changed everything for her. Did he think she was one of those 'ladies' who were as free with their attentions as she was with her purse strings, as though a tumble in the bedclothes were the same as buying a new hat to be cast aside with the next season? Or until a better design with bigger frills struck her fancy? She heard him rise from the bed and winced, turning resolutely to stare more fully at the brilliance that was the sea. The sun shone on the blue waters and dazzled the eye, making it hard for her to look at it without squinting.
"Good morning, love," his greeting was soft, his breath against her ear and she closed her eyes, leaning into the sound without realizing it. Jack placed his hands at her shoulders, not turning her, not drawing her toward him as he had days ago, but simply putting his hands on her skin. Why did the simple touch with no real promise of action behind it affect her more than if he'd flung her against the desk?
"Jack," she answered softly, there was a new tremor in her voice, it matched the way she felt, he caught it, but refused to comment. He wasn't going to be swayed from his purpose, she was a part of the plan, a very attractive part, but a part nonetheless.
"How're you feelin' then?" He answered finally, trying for mundane rather than concern. He was concerned, he didn't doubt that she thought herself a virgin, the surprise on her face last night had been genuine. But that again brought the questions ringing in his ears and he was trying to avoid those. At least for a while.
"Fine thank you," she answered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and making a small sound in her throat. Jack rolled his eyes, if she wanted to lie then fine, he wouldn't fault her for that. Perhaps the second time had been a bad idea, but she'd been so tempting against the mattress, her hair spread over the pillow, her eyes wide and her breath coming in short pants. She had said she didn't remember the dream, and mayhap she didn't, but it had been enough to make her lash out against him when he'd tried to wake her. For a moment when she'd opened her eyes it hadn't been Jack she'd seen, but a man. Didn't matter who the man was, just that he was there and she wasn't sure what he was going to do. So, he'd comforted her in the only way he knew how, using his body to ease the tightness in her chest, his lips to ease the tense muscles of her forehead and finally his fingers for… well, other places.
"Are ye hungry then, lass?" She shook her head, her eyes never wavering from the water. Jack grunted in irritation, finally turning her so that she was looking him in the eye. "What is it, Belle?"
"Don't call me that," she muttered, pulling the coverlet more securely around her shoulders and ignoring his nudity. Jack arched an eyebrow.
"Was there somethin' you preferred then, m'lady?" That condescension was back, the tone he'd used with her the first night on the beach. She sighed, she hadn't meant to anger him, only that name brought back so many feelings, like maybe he really could… but no, she wouldn't delude herself. For him she was just another in a list full of conquests. There was no doubt that she wasn't the first lady he'd tumbled either.
"No, I'm sorry, just not… that." She brushed passed him, going back into the darkness of the cabin and reaching for the chemise she let the coverlet drop to her ankles, baring her body for a moment before the silk encased it again.
"Isabelle, is there a reason why ye're walkin' around here like a whipped mutt?" He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her as she walked around the cabin, grabbing her clothes together and then dropping them in the floor when it was obvious she wouldn't be able to dress herself on her own. Her hands were shaking; she damned herself for the outward sign of weakness and tossed her tangled hair over her shoulders. She would be strong, her father would never falter, and her father would never have given into the weakness that led her to initiate the instance last night. He would have stood strong, as a matter of fact if he ever found that she was the one to instigate the loss of her maidenhead, he'd kill her with his bare hands. He'd certainly come close before. She furrowed her brow, she'd thought it would hurt more than it had, and there had been no blood, she'd checked when she'd awoken. What did that mean?
"Nothing, it's nothing." He glared across the cabin, clenching his jaw for a moment before losing his temper completely. He was halfway across the room before he started talking again.
"God damn ye for a liar, Isabelle Lockwood, now tell me what's wrong or I'll-"
"Or you'll what? Seduce it out of me?" She squared her shoulders, staring at him in open defiance. Jack raised his eyebrows. So that was it, she was having second thoughts about the night before. Truthfully he should have seen that coming, but then he wasn't exactly being truthful with himself on how he thought about the situation anyhow. He reached up and fingered one of the braids at his chin.
"I seem to recall another party doin' most of the seduction, now love. Perhaps ye're brains got addled a bit in th'… scuffle?"
"Don't try to pin this on me, I would never have-"
"Have what?" He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye, "Have proved ye're self to be a woman with needs and desires like any other? Or mayhap have lowered ye'reself to the likes of a pirate and his bed? Is that it, madam? Ye're feelin' a might unclean after the night's proceedings?" Isabelle recoiled at the tone in his voice. She hadn't meant to imply… but she had. Everything he said was true and she didn't have the strength to deny it. She just shook her head. His grip on her shoulders tightened and he shook her once as well. "Well?"
"Stop it, Jack!" She jerked herself out of his grasp and leapt backward. He let her go, his eyes hooded and angry. She glared at him, running a hand through her hair and wincing when it caught a snag. "I'm not some spoiled, high society brat that you can berate for her beliefs. You're right, I did think that you were lower than I, I did feel dirty, but-"
"I am not a man to be used and discarded by a woman, Isabelle. You agree with me and then expect me to forgive like there was no wrong doing? What do you take me for? A lowly servant to take your apoligies and be happy for receiving them? Ye're spoiled, love. And if you think I'm going to take it lying down then-"
"Then what?! What are you going to do Captain Sparrow? It can't be any worse than you've already done!" She turned her back on him, her entire body shaking now. She'd thought that by trying to apologize, by admitting that he was right it would make things better. But it seemed she'd struck some kind of nerve in Jack. She wondered what he'd meant. When had she ever treated him like a servant? Jack glared, narrowing his eyes to slits as he stared at the back of her head. Isabelle felt it rise in her and fought the urge, but the tears came anyway, her shoulders lifted with a barely suppressed sob and Jack caught that. He tried to ignore it, but the fight seemed to go out of him. He'd been in the presence of weeping females before and it never affected him like this, why with this woman did tears make him want to comfort instead of leave? He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
"What have I done, Isabelle?"
"You've ruined me!" She sobbed again, this time from somewhere deep in her chest, Jack's stomach clenched. He reached out, turning her slowly so she was facing him, her cheeks were tear streaked, her chest rose and fell with gasping sobs and she shook, covering her face with her hands so that she was hiding from him. He felt something in him tear at the thought that she would hide anything from him. He gently took her wrists in his hands, his fingers circling them he had the thought that they were like a bird's, delicate and easily broken. "Don't you understand?! It doesn't matter anymore that I come from a good family or that I'd make a good wife… none of it matters!"
"It's alright love," he took her in his arms again, holding her shaking body and trying not to curse long and loud.
"No it's not alright! Jack…," she pulled back to look him in the eye, wiping her own with the back of her hand. "Jack, it was bad enough that I was kidnapped, that could be dealt with, but now that I'm no longer… there will be no match for me. I won't be able to find a husband; I won't… be anything but John Lockwood's daughter. I know it wasn't entirely your fault, I behaved deplorably last night, I welcomed your advances and made advances of my own, I wasn't thinking correctly. The blame lies with me as well, but" She sighed, shrugging her shoulders, "You don't care."
"When did I say I didn't care, lass?"
"You said last night that what happened changes nothing, Jack. Don't treat me like a child, I know that being with women isn't exactly something you shy from, Captain."
"So because I like women I have no heart, is that it?" He sighed, he should have thought of this earlier, or at least seen where it would have led. He should have left her alone last night, left her naked in this room and gone to the hold below, gotten good and drunk and… and once inebriated he would have found her anyway.
"I didn't say that," she answered dully.
"Now I'll have to ask you not to treat me like a child, Isabelle. That's exactly what you meant and you know it." He'd lost the accent long ago and he didn't care. So much of who he was supposed to be left him when he was in this woman's presence, he needed to constantly remind himself that he had a course of action, that there was a plan that he had to stick with. Why couldn't he remember around her? "You lost your virginity, it doesn't make you anything other than what you already are." The look in her eyes said that he'd just made it worse. "You aren't a bad person, Isabelle. You saw something you wanted and you went for it. You have done nothing wrong." He didn't' have to say that it really didn't matter if she'd slept with him or not, the very fact that he'd taken her from Barbados ensured that they would assume the worst.
"I'm a pawn, is that what you're saying?" Jack shrugged.
"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying you're stuck in a deplorable situation that I would change if I could, and you're being forced to make the best of it. Don't blame yourself, lass, please. If it makes you feel better, then blame me." He stared down into her eyes and forced himself to gulp past the dryness in his throat. She blinked back more tears, before he could stop himself, Jack found that he was kissing her again. She responded to his lips with a hunger that matched his own. She may be damning herself for what had happened the night before, but she still wanted him, that much was clear. He groaned low in his throat, his fingers going to her hips. She shivered in his arms.
"Please, Jack," there was that phrase again. The way she said his name made him think himself capable of anything. He captured her lips again, forcing himself to think past her voice in his ear. It didn't work. His fingers slid down her hips to her thighs. Wihtout thought he grasped them, lifting her and parting her legs. Isabelle gasped against his lips and tossed her head back, allowing him access to her neck. She cried out when he placed her on the desk, her fingers going to his own waist to urge him to her center. Jack slid the silk up her thighs and she shook with anticipation. He felt her fingers close around his organ and he found he was close to spending himself. She stared up into his eyes, her own scared, "Tell me this doesn't make me a whore. Tell me that wanting you doesn't make me the lowest kind of woman. Tell me and just this once…" she bit her lip and Jack cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against the tracks the tears had made down her cheeks. "Just this once I'll believe you." He leaned forward, his lips tasting the salt on her skin, pulling back he let his hands travel down her sides, over her breasts, testing areas covered in silk and made somehow more erotic by the covering.
"Isabelle-"
"Jack, there's something you should see." Gibbs didn't stay in the room to see what he'd interrupted. The cabin smelled like sex, no matter that it had been last night, he didn't doubt he'd interrupted another moment such as that. He left as quickly as he'd come, ignoring his captain's nudity and the girl's wanton pose on the desk. Jack'd have to deal with the consequences of this when he dressed and went on deck. The militia had found them.