_-=-_

Mrs. William Turner was nearly overcome as Jack Sparrow walked through her front door, decidedly ignoring social niceties and entering without so much as a knock or "Good day". When she noticed footsteps, she turned from her windowseat only to find the exact man she had been looking for. Just because he wasn't sword-fighting Will for her love on a sandy Caribbean beach under the moon was no reason to be affronted, either. After all, he was there, and that was all that mattered.

...She had been doubting for the past few minutes.

Jack was very quiet once he had found himself in Mrs. Turner's presence -- and he couldn't quite figure out why. Before he had seen her, he was all confidence: He was going to go in there, tell her that she was a married woman, and be on his way... But then her eyes had done something funny when he had passed through the doorway. He ended up thinking, as his courage began to shrink at a rapid pace, that he wouldn't even have considered speaking to this woman were it not for the rum he had consumed earlier in the evening.

Elizabeth was shaking with excitement, Jack with absolute terror and inebriation.

"Jack!" the former said cheerfully, a smile lighting up her rather exhausted features. "I never thought you'd come back..."

He didn't know how to respond to that. "Well, 'Lizabeth, I would've been here earlier but your husband had a bit of a breakdown -- never fear, though! I'm here to crush all your hopes as well... Didn't want you to feel left out!"? Oh yes, that would be bloody perfect...

"Would you like to sit down?" Sit down? Yes, by all means, I'll sit down... Prolong everyone's suffering, eh? He sat, directly across from her; those eyes joyously examining his features as he tried desperately to ignore hers. There was a very long silence, the both of them staring at each other, and nothing more. His heart was pounding madly in his thin chest at the thought of what he was about to do; hers was fluttering lightly at the thought of the two of them sailing away from Port Royale forever.

"So," she began, as easy as could be, although her voice trembled slightly with giddiness. "So, when will we be leaving, Jack?"

When will we be leaving? He felt his jaw move a few times before any noise came out of his mouth, and when it did it was a hoarse rasp:

"Well... That's what I'm here to talk t'you about,"

"That's what I thought -- I suppose you couldn't very well leave me here waiting forever!"

Really? Why not?... Oh, that's right: I'm s'posed to be Mature about things... Damn word. Hope it dies.

She watched him expectantly, barely able to keep herself from falling down at his feet. Right at that moment, if he asked her to do anything in the world, she would have done it in an instant. From getting him a drink to killing someone... She was completely in his power. And it wasn't even that he objected to that fact. It just wasn't...

Honorable...

She was Married, after all. And although Jack Sparrow liked women, he tried very hard to stay away from the ones with husbands.

After all these years, one look at Elizabeth Turner and he could tell it wasn't working. All he had to do on the journey back to the Turners was think of how excellently she had fought against Barbossa's men, how brave she had been compared to most wenches her age...

"So... when are we leaving, Jack?"

He pressed his lips together very tight, and then exhaled through his teeth.

"We're not."

For a moment she just smiled, as though the whole thing were a very nasty joke. And then her smile slowly faded into something of a grimace.

"We're... what?" she asked breathily.

Was she going to ask him to repeat bloody everything? How he longed for the days when she was nothing but a minor character in another one of his grand adventures. When she was only the girl who taught him a pirate song on a deserted island when they were both acting quite insane... When he didn't think of her at night -- or any other time of the day.

Unfortunately, those times were long gone. He was quite stuck with his daydreams and his fantasies, his heart having been twisted into them during the process of plot developement.

He hated to deny her anything because he was now dangerously close to being passionately in love. That ship had already sailed with Elizabeth, but so far, she thought darkly, the adventure had not been grand at all.

Perhaps, she told herself as she waited for him to finish his explanation, the idea of an adventure is much better than an actual one.

_-=-_