Authors note: ::waves:: Me again. Thank you for the reviews I got last time, and hope you enjoy this part. A few more chapters to go, I think.
Jack crossed his arms and put on an expression of utmost attention.
"Ready when you are, Miss. Summers," he said comfortably.
"I can't do this," she whispered.
There wasn't much to say for that expression she got when she was upset. Mouth pursed to look like a puckered prune, eyes cold and dead. What had men jumping hoops for this one was beyond him.
"Now look 'ere," he said patiently. "We did step two. Step two involved you seeing your mistakes, because your boy there, he's gonna take the crumbs you throw and not say a bloody word. An' I got places to be."
"B-but…it's not my fault! You don't understand, you don't know anything about my life. I'm going to die – again. For the third time, and possibly very soon. My best friend's a magic whore, my sister shouldn't exist. Everyone…everyone leaves. Dies. And I'm all alone. But I have to do the right thing, be the right person, because that's who I fucking am, and I can't fucking disappoint anyone else and –" she broke off.
"What can I say, love, you got a bad lot in life. Not the only one who does. But you've got this man, who'll do anything for you. Who bloody worships the ground you walk on. An' all you can do is hurt him."
"All I'm good at, isn't it," she muttered.
"Oy! Stop that, now. This's getting' a mite too depressing. And pointless."
"Well, I'm so sorry if my life depresses you!"
"Oh you got me wrong, darling. S'not your life at all, 's all you. You may have a short time left, yeah. So you gonna waste that time waddling in past sorrows? Let the past cloud everythin' you do?"
"Your past makes you who you are!"
A seconds pause, and she found herself being hauled up against a strong body.
"Now thas where you're partially wrong, love. See these?"
One handed, he pointed to an array of scars and tattoos that lined his arm.
"There's the past. Ever been left on a deserted island to die, Miss. Summers? I can tell you it's not a pleasant thing. 'Specially when the view from said island is the most precious thing you have sailing away."
"Your wife?"
"My bloody ship. Now keep quiet 'an lemme talk. Bloody Barbossa took 'er from me, but I got 'er back, see? That's the future. My future, on the Pearl. And goin' against odds to get her back is movin' out of your past and into what's to come."
"Oh."
Finally, some progress.
"Yeah, pet. Oh. Now, does 'e love you?"
"Yes."
"Do you love 'im?"
"It's wrong…" A token protest.
"Didn't ask if it was right or wrong, asked if you loved him. One word answer here, Buffy."
"I-I can't!"
He gripped her shoulders roughly and pulled her closer still. Buffy could smell his rum-tinged breath and shuddered.
"Do. You. Love. Him."
She dropped her head and for a second Jack feared another bout of screeching was coming. But then her face lifted, and her lips quirked into a sad smile.
"Yeah. I do."