Author's Note: sorry this one took so long.  But as I said in the last chapter, Estelwolfe left me completely demoralized and unable to do much except await her next chapter.  Also I had to figure out how to get from where I was to where I wanted to end the chapter.  But I managed, and I sincerely hope to not go this long without updating again.  I look back on the time when I updated almost every day and pine for them – however, this plot is being somewhat difficult.

To make up for your wait, here's a nice, long chapter (nearly 6,000 words) for your enjoyment.  Thanks to all who are sticking with me.  I love hearing from you all.

Author's Thanks at the end.

**********************************************************************

The Part I'm Building Off of:

Decision made, she stood up, called Pige to her, and slowly walked to the water's edge.  Standing patiently as the tide curled and swirled around the toes of her boots, Winn composed her face, tucked away her emotions as best she could, and set her doubts aside.  If she were to get through this intact, she was going to need to be the ice princess she had once prided herself on being.  She was going to need to fully be someone who had been dying a slow death for four years.

   Jack was going to kill her.

**********************************************************************

Winn watched the lifeboat approach her, and was careful to restrain Pige as it beached some nine yards away from her position.  These men were wary, glancing all around as if they expected a fight.  Perhaps they thought she had men hidden in the lush growth behind her.  She wasn't that stupid.  For all she knew, at the first hint of a scuffle on the beach, Gandolfi would kill Jack.  Ry had tried to convince her otherwise.  She'd disagreed.

   Making sure to speak in her calmest and most bored voice she addressed the men in Italian, "If you're waiting for a surprise reception, you're wasting your time.  I'm here alone, as was asked.  Now, if you would be so kind as to take me back to your ship, I'd like to get this . . ." she waved a hand vaguely.  ". . . this ordeal . . . over with as soon as is possible."

   This was clearly not the reaction they had been expecting.  Winn fought to keep from rolling her eyes.  What had they been expecting from her?  For her to cower in fear?  They were lucky she was keeping her temper in check.  As she stood here and watched them out of seemingly bored eyes, she could feel her anger growing.  It had been years since she had truly lost control of her temper, but these men worked for the man who threatened the man she loved.  They had helped turn his ship, their home, into a floating mass of driftwood.  She wanted nothing else than to let Pige go, to pull out pistol and sword and attack.  Only the knowledge that this wouldn't help Jack and that she might injure the life inside her stayed her hand.  But if they thought that she was going to fear them, they had a lesson to learn.

   The leader of the small group stepped forward, pointing a pistol in her direction.  Answering her in his native language, he said, "Drop your weapons and come with us."

   She raised her eyebrows as if asking whether or not she was supposed to be impressed, but did as he said anyway.  Bending at the knees rather than at her waist, a move that would give away her secret, she set sword, gun, and long dagger in the sand.  Then standing back up, still meeting their eyes, she pulled up her sleeves and untied the wrist sheaths she was wearing, then dropped them on the growing pile.  Reaching behind her, she pulled a small dirk out of her waistband and a long needle out of the bun of hair on her wig.  She added these to the pile, then pulled another long needle from its place in Pige's collar. Lastly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her highly valued throwing stars.  Jack had bought those for her while they were in Siam during their wedding trip.  She had practiced long and hard to be able to use them with any accuracy.  Giving one up now just added to her anger. 

   Jack owes me a trip to Siam when this is all finished.  

   You're going to be sitting still until the baby is born when this is all finished.  Ignoring that little fact, she crosses her arms and asked, "Satisfied?"  

   Several men looked at the pile and back at her several times, astonished that a so small a woman could hide so many weapons on her person.  She wanted so badly to snort in distain and ask what they were thinking.  By all accounts she was a murderous pirate.  Did they honestly think that she would have come unarmed?  Their leader however, never blinked an eye throughout her display.  He was the one she had to convince.  He watched her as if he expected her to suddenly pull out a gun and kill them all with a single bullet.  How she wished she could.

"Get out of the boat."

   Winn took a deep breath – things were starting to edge into more dangerous territory.  She needed to show that she was by no means subdued even though she was on the very threshold of enemy territory.  "No.  Not without my dog."

   "Look, wench, you're lucky the mutt made it this far–"

   "You're not getting me out of this boat until I have assurances that my dog will end up on the deck."  The man in change of her for the time being lost his tempter and pulled out a gun and pointed in her face.  Staring him down over the barrel, she calmly said in a tone learned from Jack, "Now, that's not very nice, and it's also not a very effective threat.  We both know your employer wants to talk to me, and for that to happen, I have to be alive."

   "There's plenty of places I can shoot you that wouldn't kill you."

   "Yes, but all of them would impair my ability to climb up the side of a ship.  And you'd just end up hauling me up in the lifeboat anyway."  The man growled, and pulled back and arm as if to hit her.  She sat staring up at him, making sure that Pige didn't jump to her defense.  Before any action could take place, a call from the deck interrupted the tableau, just as Winn had been hoping.

   "Signor Gandolfi says to just let the dog come up.  We're more than equipped to handle the female dog and her pet."  Winn rolled her eyes, immune to such insults.  It's not as if it were incredibly original.  This time when her foe motioned for her to leave the small boat, she acquiesced.

   It was difficult to climb up the side of a ship while nearly four and a half months pregnant.  The up and down movement of the ship on the water was making her slightly nauseous.  She knew that her stomach would settle as soon as she was on the deck instead of hanging over the water, so she climbed as quickly as she could.  Reaching the top of the rude ladder, she found several pairs of hands waiting to help her over the edge.  She let them reach out and grab her arms, struggling slightly as they turned rough.  Winn heard course laughter as she was pushed to the deck, but she concentrated on breaking her fall rather than on how she was going to repay each crude comment and suggestion.  The last thing she needed was to somehow injure her child.

   "That is more than enough."  Winn looked up from her crouch on the deck to see an older man approaching.  His longish silver hair was tied back in a horse-tail, his slightly lined face clean-shaven.  His clothes were the example of a prosperous businessman; dark, solemn, and impeccably clean.

   Gandolfi.  Slowly standing up, refusing to appear as if he unnerved her, Winn watched him, watched for any sign that he was going to strike out at her.  For a man who appeared to be in his late fifties-early sixties, he was surprisingly fix.  If she had to guess, Winn would have said that he had actually worked on his own ships as a younger man instead of sitting in some office like most merchants.  He must have been formidable then.  Who am I kidding?  He's formidable now.

   Speaking in Italian, to undoubtedly make her uncomfortable, the merchant said, "Welcome aboard the History's Claim, cara." 

   Winn raised her eyebrows at this term of endearment, but kept silent for the time being.  Until she knew how the man would react to someone speaking back to him, it was unwise to nettle him.  "I prefer not to irritate the Pearl's captain, goading him into actions he otherwise would have never taken."  How long ago had she said that?  Did it matter?  Perhaps this time I can follow my advice better than I did then . . . not that I'm not pleased with the outcome of ignoring those words.

   "What's wrong, Miss Morgan?  Didn't I assure you of your safety while aboard my ship?  Or do you not understand me?"

   Beware of snakes in plain sight and wolves in sheep's clothing.  You're not safe.  You need to get away as soon as you can.

   Thank you for that information.  I have no intention of lingering longer than I need to.  Deciding it would be best for this man to underestimate her, she replied in halting and poor Italian, "Yes, I seem to remember that . . . assurance.  Excuse me if I don't place much faith in the words of a man who offered a reward for my capture."  Winn lowered her voice until it sounded as if she had spent years yelling to make herself heard over the elements.  If she had to keep it up for long, she 'd give herself a sore throat.  Please don't let me need to stay here long enough for that to happen.

   "You speak Italian?"  Gandolfi's face was as void of emotion as hers was, but he couldn't mask all the surprise glinting in his eyes.

   "Some.  My grandmother was half Italian – she taught me what she could of the language."  She switched to English, "To tell you th' truth, I was ne'er what you would call a . . . capable student.  She gave up after a bit."  The less he thought she was able to understand his native tongue, the more he'd use it to communicate with his crew.  By feigning ignorance, she might be able to pick up a few things.

   Pige growling in the background interrupted her thought process.  She turned her back on Gandolfi, hoping she wouldn't regret the move, to search out her pet.  Several men were keeping her cornered by the rail while another tried to fit a collar over her head.  They'd never succeed if they didn't dare get closer than a few feet to the dog.  Looking over her shoulder at Gandolfi and raising her eyebrows, she simply said, "Signor?  M'pet?"

   If he had been irritated at her abrupt dismissal of his importance, he showed no sign of it.  "Let the mutt go."

   Reluctantly, the men did so.  The released Pige bounded towards her mistress.  At a hand signal from Winn, the dog stopped imitating a feckless pup and did her best impersonation of a grave guard dog.  Hiding a smile, Winn contemplated taking the dog's leash out of her pocket, but decided against it at the moment.  It would be best if it appeared as if she had complete control of the dog without the leather aide.

   "I find it odd that . . . someone such as yourself, would travel only in the company of a ill-mannered half-breed."  Winn turned back to Gandolfi, keeping her face blank.  She knew that more than her dog was being slighted.  "Where are your men, your ship?"

   Easy girl.  Jack is a gown man, he can defend his own honor.  Coolly Winn replied, "M'men are where they should be.  Wi' their ship, carryin' out their duties.  Surely you know that th' Black Pearl was nearly destroyed.  They're seein' to repairs while I fetch back their capt'n."

   "I find it odd that such an infamous pirate does not command her own ship.  Whatever happened to the . . . what was it?  The Tide's Raptor?  Was she destroyed, or did you just find it impossible to find a crew that would cower under the command of a woman?"

   "The Raptor was returned to 'er rightful owner – or at least th' pirate who had captured it.  I was only borrowin' it.  As for th' Pearl, my home is there for as long as 'er capt'n and I have an . . . understandin'."  There was no need to bandy about the word "married."  This man wouldn't believe her unless he saw a certificate, and those only came with legal marriages.  Winn had been married in a pirate ceremony, her marriage only considered valid by other pirates.  In this man's eyes she was no better than a Tortugan prostitute, but Winn refused to feel any shame over this point.  Every culture had marriage ceremonies that were not recognized by others.  For this man and the rest of polite society, anyone married outside of the Christian church was an adulterer.  But that didn't matter – what mattered was that she and Jack had exchanged their own vows, before others, and before God.  They were in this for the long haul.  Otherwise she wouldn't be here.

   Slowly surveying his ship, Gandolfi said, "Perhaps you would like to continue this discussion in more comfortable and more private settings.  I've found that it's hard to communicate truth when there are so many distractions to tempt the mind."

   "I appreciate th' offer, Signor Gandolfi, but I believe talk can wait.  Can it not?  I traveled long an' hard t'be 'ere in time t'meet you and your ship.  I'm ashamed t'admit it, but I'm feelin' th' lack of sleep.  Surely any conversation can wait until I've had th' chance t'refresh myself."  Take me to Jack you treacherous snake.  For all his smooth words and semi-courteous talk, Winn trusted the merchant no father than she could see into his motivations.

   "Ahh, you wish to be reunited with your . . . captain."

   Winn shrugged, pretending that she could care less.  "Not particu'ly.  He's bound to be upset wi' me for comin'.  Doubtless, he'll have a few choice words for me for showin' up here, but what can I say?  He's good in th' sack, and I don't think he'll thrash me too badly."  Part of Winn demanded that she be embarrassed for saying such a thing, but her reply was, What?  He already knows we share a bed.  Pretending otherwise won't make that go away.  Besides, he's expecting something like that.  Some self-centered reason for coming here.  A normal pirate would have left Jack here to die and we both know it.  I have to blame my appearance here on some kind of perceived 'female weakness.'  She agreed with herself, but it was still a fight to keep her cheeks from turning a rosy hue.  Knowledge was one thing – confirming it was another game altogether.

   "Well.  I suppose I did promise."  Winn simply watched him out of guarded eyes.  "Very well, this way."

The woman had lower morals than he had thought.  True, she hadn't come right out and said that she intended to get bedded as soon as possible, but it was probably what she was thinking.  Gandolfi was almost disappointed.  This woman was nothing.  She was tiny, practically a non-entity.  What threat could she have posed to his son?  She was ignorant, selfish, and doubtlessly petty.  While his caged sparrow had objected when he had spoken crudely of this woman, the woman herself was motivated by nothing other than physical needs.  How strange.  At least he was right about her corruption.  Now more than ever he was certain of his plan.  She couldn't be allowed to spread her vice and her indifference.

  She was doubtless the very image of Eve in the garden.  Stupid enough to have listened to the serpent and uncaring enough to spread its poison through her disregard of other people.  It was likely that she had killed Tristan just to see him die.  Perhaps once she no longer represented a threat, after she was broken, then Sparrow could see her for what she really was.  A monster who most probably threatened his immortal soul . . . if he hadn't already done that with his iniquitous lifestyle.

   No matter.  All that concerned him now was that the threat she represented was destroyed before she could ruin another life, another generation.  That revenge was satisfied.  That justice was served.  That history was allowed to repeat itself one last time.  The voice of innocence called for it.  The blood of his son demanded it.  The past and the very Fates themselves sought it – why else would she be here, within his reach?

   His plan would succeed.

Jack paced his room.  He had watched the little scene on the beach, had watched as Winn had disarmed herself, his heart in his throat the entire time.  He had watched as the boat Winn had voluntarily, voluntarily, gotten into had returned to the ship, watching as if the moment he removed his gaze from her would be the moment she would be killed.

   But now she was out of his sight, and apart from a few incoherent jeers, he had no indication that she was even aboard the ship.  His mind – his unusually overactive and demanding mind – was devising scenario after scenario in which Winn was harmed, killed, maimed, thrown overboard, tortured.  It had to stop.  He had to slow the mental images.

   It was a pointless exercise.  He had seen too many times how men regarded a female who sailed on a ship.  Had seen too often how an enemy force would treat the women of the people they were trying to defeat.  Had seen too many bodies of beaten or murdered bauds on Tortuga and other ports like it.  The life he lived was not an easy one nor a merciful one.  If he'd only stayed away from Winnie when he had realized how much she fascinated him, then she wouldn't be in this position now.  He was the one that had dragged her into this, no matter how she protested that belief.  If not for him, she'd be safely tucked away with a family member, not risking her neck for a pirate who had seen worse.  Who had escaped worse.

   Jack wondered if they would bring her in to see him.  If they did, he could only hope that she would have the sense to pretend indifference towards him.  If they did, he would have to do so no matter what state she was in.  I can't!  The side of him that had helped him survive all these years demanded that he must if he wanted to see them both live through this.  Any emotion, any weakness, would quickly be seized and turned against them.

   Fine, but when we're alone, when we're out of this mess –

   IF you're alone with her, you will tend her injuries but tenderness is out of the question.

  No –

   Yes.  Because it would be best if you never dragged her into this again.  Even if this threat is from her past, the next might very well be from yours.  Are you willing to go through this again?  Willing to submit her to more pain and danger on your account?

  What are you suggesting?  The voice was silent.  He knew very well what it wanted.  No.  I promised.  I made vows.  Jack didn't even notice the fact that his inner voice had changed its position on keeping Winn safe.

   You vowed to keep her safe.

   I vowed to never leave her as well.  How do you suppose I get around that?

   I don't.  You'll have to break that one.

   No!

   What is more important?  Her peace of mind or her safety?  Her happiness or her life?  Let her go.  She can find someone else to make a life with – someone who doesn't represent such a danger to her.

   What makes you think she would be left behind?

   You're Captain Jack Sparrow.  If you elude the navy, any navy, then it shouldn't be too hard to make yourself just as elusive to a single girl.

   Are you joking?  Have you been paying attention at all these past few years?

   Do you love her?

   Yes.

   Then you'll leave her and let her live in safety.  Or would you rather keep her with you and one day learn that YOU were the one that was the cause of her death?  That she did something foolish and got herself killed to keep you safe?

   No.  Jack wasn't sure if that was meant to protest leaving Winn or seeing her die because of him.  The half of him that ruthlessly left no room for anything other than survival surged, but for Winn.  Nothing mattered beyond seeing her live.  Whatever it took to reach that goal would be worth it.  Even his own life.

   I think you're missing the point.

   No.  I will see Winn safe no matter what.

   And yourself?

   Don't matter.  Besides, I'm a dead man as soon as I leave her anyway.  She'll make sure of that, one way or another.

   Just as that thought finished whispering its way through his mind, the door to the cabin opened to reveal the woman he had been hoping for days he would not see anytime soon.  "Until morning, cara."

Gandolfi led her to the door of a cabin.  To her not so great surprise, it was located under the main deck.  However, she was surprised to find that it was the only cabin in the stern of the ship.  If that was true, it must be rather large – bigger than would ordinarily be granted a pirate.  Doesn't matter.  He's kept Jack cooped up in here.  Might has well locked him in the brig, that at least would be more truthful than this.  Would carry less of a sense of mockery to it.

   Without a word, the merchant laid a hand on the door, but didn't open it.  "It would please me very much if we could meet to speak sometime in the morning.  For breakfast perhaps?  I would like to get the matter between us cleared as soon as humanly possible, and I'm certain that you are eager to return to your ship."

   Winn nodded, thinking, Yes, that is very convenient.  I won't be able to eat for the nausea, and therefore won't have to worry that you're trying to poison me.

   Seeing her agreement to this request, Gandolfi opened the door and motioned her through.  "Until morning, cara."  Her temper demanded that she rage against the familiarity of the term, that she dislodge from his head the notion that he could mock a pirate, but she held her peace.  Now was not the time for displays of temper.

   As Winn worked to control her anger, Gandolfi shut the door behind her.  Still somewhat blinded from the sun, she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust before looking around the room.  Jack.  He was leaning against the wall near a porthole, his arms across his chest, his eyes unreadable.  Her heart sank as she realized, as she accepted, that their reunion was not going to be immediately happy.  Com'on, say something.  Please.

   Nothing.  For several minutes silence reigned in the room while Winn and Jack stared at each other from their respective positions.  Winn was tense compared to how Jack appeared.  He didn't look happy, please, gratified, surprised, or ever mad to see her.  He just watched her out of blank eyes.  Winn, calming herself and her emotions, draped the same expressionless mask over her face.  She could wait just as long as he to speak, and probably longer.  She had a healthy store of anger built up and could use that to maintain her silence for longer than he could imagine at the moment, and every moment of his silence added to her reserves.  She was the one who had waited months on end for him to do something she had asked him not to.  She was the one carrying his child.  She was the one who was paying for repairs to his ship.  She was the one who had sailed here from her part of the Bahamas to risk her neck to save the one he was risking.  If anyone had a right to enraged silence, it was her.  Not him.

   Finally he decided that he had been quiet long enough.  "I've heard it said that the deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers.  I think that leaving your grandfather's house against my expressed wishes qualifies as betrayal."

   The cold irritation in his voice was too much for Winn to take.  Her temper broke through her icy façade in a single burst.  "The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who in time of great moral crises maintain their neutrality.  Besides, didn't you maroon me with my family?  I wouldn't be so eager to point the accusing finger, Sparrow.  I've been through enough and had enough time to think in these past months to squash any argument you make about my being here.  Do not get self-righteous on me."

   "What were you expecting, Winnie?  A welcoming party?  What do you want me to do?"

   "I want you to hit me."

   That broke through Jack's composure.  Out of everything he had been expecting, that was not it at all.  "Come again?"

   "I want you to hit me.  Preferably a slap across the face."

   "I'm not that mad at you, love.  I've never hit a woman, especially my own wife, and I intend to keep that record if nothing else."

   "Hit me, Jack."

   "Winnie, I am not going to hit you."  Her stubborn insistence was breaking his resolve to remain distant.  How could he when the woman he loved was asking him to hurt her?

   "Hit me."  He was such a stubborn man.

   Jack rubbed his head as if he were getting a headache.  "Winnie.  Love.  We haven't seen each other in what?  Four months?  And the first thing you ask me to do is hit you?  What is wrong with you?"

   "Three months.  Nothing's wrong with me.  Gandolfi is expecting something like this.  He already thinks that neither of us possess any morals, and I let it drop that I was here against your wishes.  If you don't do something to make him believe me, if we don't do exactly as he suspects, he will get suspicious and it will be even more difficult to get him to drop his guard.  Now, if I could, I would smack myself, but that really doesn't work."  Winn saw that Jack still wasn't going along with the idea.  "I'm not asking for a black eye, just a slap.  A handprint would be nice, but I won't ask that much of you."

   "Winnie . . . ."  He could see the logic behind her reasoning, but that didn't mean he necessarily agreed with her.

   He was weakening.  She could tell.  Winn took several steps across the room, pausing halfway across.  "Trust me, Jack.  Please.  I'm the one that's going to be hit.  I trust you."  Winn wasn't sure what she was doing.  She had never in her life begged to be hit.  But then, she'd never faced so much danger to herself, her husband, and unborn child.  "Just get it over with, please.  It's not as if I find this to be an attractive proposal, merely a necessary one."

   Jack sighed.  "You shouldn't even be here, Winn.  You should be safe at Swallows Rest, telling stories to the little ones."

   She came two steps closer – soon she'd be within arm's reach.  "They've heard them all, I belong at your side, and will you just hit me already?"

   "I don't like this idea, love."

   "I know you don't."  Step.  "But we have to convince Gandolfi that we're going to act the way he thinks we will."  Step.  "You've used a persona to make others underestimate you before.  How is this different?"  Step.  He could reach out and touch her now.

   "It just is."  Jack examined Winn's face, seeing in her eyes that she was not going to give up on this, and frankly, had she been anyone else, he would have hauled back and smacked her already.  But she was his wife.  He was supposed to keep her from getting hurt, not hurt her himself.

   "Jack.  We both know I'm right.  You know you agree with me.  This has to be done, and soon.  He's probably waiting outside the door for sounds of conflict now.  I trust you not to hurt me more than necessary."  He was examining the floor as he thought.  "You know that this could mean our lives.  We get Gandolfi to underestimate us, we use that to plan an escape at the opportune moment, and then somehow we manage to come back and eliminate the threat he poses to us."

   Jack met her eyes again.  "I don't want to do this."

   Winn saw in his eyes the pain this was causing, the sorrow he was already feeling.  "I know," she whispered.  The next thing she knew, fire blossomed in her cheek and her head snapped to the side from the impact of Jack's hand against her face.

Jack caught Winn as she nearly collapsed.  He hadn't thought he had hit her that hard, but maybe he had overdone it.  She was so much smaller than most of the people he faced off against; so much more fragile than she was willing to admit.    Cradling her in his arms, he sunk to the floor, surprised to feel tears seeping through his shirt.  He had seen Winn injured worse than this and hold herself together.  Of course, at the moment they were in a rather stressful situation.  And how long has she been fretting over my absence?  She's worn out.  Exhausted.

   Winn cried as Jack held her, unsure of her motivation.  Yes, her face stung and she didn't want to touch it except perhaps with a cool cloth, but that shouldn't be enough to make her break down.  It didn't hurt that badly, but it was all she could do to muffle her sobs.  Hormones, she thought as she felt her chest heave with deep breaths.  The last four months and all the news they had contained had taken their toll.  As long as she had been on her own, she had been able to maintain her composure, but now that Jack was holding her and whispering insensible things into the crown of her head, she found the last of her strength fleeing her.  It felt good to cry, felt good to let Jack support her as she let all her confused and conflicting emotions out.

   Jack started rocking Winn as he felt her fingers dig into his back and shoulders.  It had been awhile since he had seen her this upset.  Settling himself more comfortably, resting one side against the wall, he waited for her tears to dry.

   Nearly fifteen minutes later, Winn was able to calm herself down.  It was mid-afternoon and she only had until the next morning to plan and talk with Jack about all that had happened while they were apart.  Still sniffing and drying tears on his shirt, Winn asked her husband in a gravelly voice, "This is some way to spend our fourth anniversary, isn't it?"  Stunned silence met this inquiry.  Angling her head to meet his eyes, Winn asked, "You lost track of time, didn't you?"

   Jack nodded.  "I'm sorry, love."

   Cupping his face in one hand, Winn replied, "Don't be.  It's not your fault.  And Grandfather said this would just be a good reason to really celebrate next year."  Feeling tears threaten again, Winn hugged her husband tightly.  "Despite everything, I don't regret that day, Jack.  I don't."

   "Neither do I."  Hugging his wife back, Jack thought that he had bit more to hug than the last time he had seen Winn.  Squeezing again to make sure, he confirmed that suspicion.  "Winnie?  Are you sure you were all that upset to have me gone?"

   Pulling away from him, Winn frowned, her anger suddenly coming up to the surface again.  "What kind of question is that, you lout?  Of course I was upset.  And worried to death with every day that passed and I had no news from you.  Do you have any idea how close I was to setting out and tracking you down by myself?  Twice Ry had to convince me to stay put.  I was worried sick.  I lost sleep over you."  Winn struggled to her feet.  "And let me tell you, it wasn't a pleasant experience, what with the dreams that you were in danger, and the lack of news, and . . . and . . . and I hate you!  This is all your fault."  Suddenly she stopped and puzzled voice questioned, "Why do you ask?"

   Jack was completely bewildered.  He wasn't quite sure what to say.  "Well . . . it's just that it seems to me that you may have put on a little weight, that's all."  When her face crumpled up to cry again, he hurriedly said, "Not that it doesn't look good on you.  You've always been a little bony, and while that was nice, I suppose that it's natural to start gaining some weight when a woman reaches your age."  No that wasn't right.  "What I mean is –"

   "You think I'm fat.  And old."  Winn's breathing pattern had descended into the jerky motion of someone who was trying their hardest not to cry.  She didn't know what was wrong with her that she couldn't seem to hold herself together.  She had once prided herself on that.  "All I was doing was worrying about your neck, and dealing with the loss of the children, and . . . and . . . ."  She was quickly losing what was left of her composure.

   Coming up to wrap his arms around his wife again, Jack asked with a sense of foreboding, "What do you mean, the loss of the children?  What happened at the estate?"

   "Nothing.  Ry and Cat's children are just fine."  This was not the way that Winn had planned on telling Jack anything.

   "Then what are you talking about?  What children were lost?"

   "It doesn't matter.  Don't pay attention to me.  I'm just a little . . . a little emotional."  A sudden fear had seized Winn, one that she had been harboring since she had talked to Cat.  What if Jack was disgusted by her own inability to realize she was pregnant?  What if he hated her for losing his children?  He couldn't know.  Not now.  Not yet.

   "Why are you emotional, love?"  Sometimes talking to Winn was like trying to decode a tattered and faded map; it took time, patience, and lots of thought.  And the right questions often helped.

   "It's your fault."  It was.  It wasn't as if Winn had the ability to get pregnant on her own.  She wasn't supposed to have been able to get pregnant in the first place.  What if Jack . . . ?

   "How is it my fault?"

   "Because . . . because . . . ."  How was she supposed to say this?  All her planned speeches took place when they were both safely reunited at Osprey Point.  Winn didn't know how to say the words here, under these circumstances.  Then don't talk.

   Following that advice, Winn removed herself from Jack's light embrace. Taking his larger, calloused hand in hers, Winn silently rubbed it over the slight bulge in her abdomen, watching his eyes as he stared quizzically at her.  Because she was watching for it, Winn saw the exact moment when Jack realized how localized her new weight was, watched his eyes dart downward to examine the area his hand was gliding over.

   Jack's mind absolutely refused to process what his hand was telling him.  There was already too much at stake without this . . . inconvenience.  This couldn't be happening.  Not now.  Not when they had all the complications they needed.  Yet as Jack met Winn's eyes again, as he saw the fears buried there, he saw that it was.

   Trying to hide her nervousness, Winn quickly wetted her lips, then whispered, "I'm pregnant Jack."  Her voice came out small and tinny, and she thought she might faint as she waited for his reaction.

********************************************************************

A/N 2: I take no credit for Winn's quote about hell.  That is a quote from Dante – either the 'Inferno' or 'Paradise Lost', but I could be mistaken.

A/N 3: forgot to say that another reason this is late is because I went to Portland last night and saw Tamora Pierce when she spoke at Powell's Books.  It was so great.  But it didn't leave a great deal of writing time.  *shrug*

Author's Thanks:

scratchycat

mooney- is your mom still reading this?  : )  Tell her I said 'hi.'

Siremaik

Alej

TaraRose

jackfan2 – oh, I am so jealous.  Estelwolfe's beta.  Ugh  I sincerely hope she is just playing mean tricks of the kind I like to play, otherwise she'll be getting quite a review from me, let me tell you.  : )  Tell her to hurry up and post.  I'm dying here.

mooranda

KawaiiRyu

bobo3

lilitaliandragon

Eledhwen

VagrantCandy

captainsparrowsfeistylass

pirate-miss

Rhiannon – hey!  New reviewers rock my face, my planet, my CD player (which is inconvenient because then the music skips . . . )  Anyway, so glad to hear from you.

BeBe

SuzzieQue

PeleAmelika