*Cross-fire:
1 a: firing (as in combat) from two or more points so that the lines of fire cross
b: a situation wherein the forces of opposing factions meet, cross, or clash
2: rapid or heated exchange of words
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I.
Elizabeth raised her index finger to her mouth to wet it before turning to a page in the book before her. She skimmed the passage then bit down on a smile as she slid the opened novel across the dining table.
"What about this one?"
Jack read the page then looked it over for a moment, weighing the option, but ultimately flipped to a marked passage at the back instead.
"This one," he murmured, an interest coloring his voice that made Elizbeth draw forward just as Jack began to read aloud.
Elizabeth smoothed her hands down her gown, grabbing at the fabric in her lap when Jack came to a particularly interesting part in the narrative. She glanced down. Was she wearing the gown before? Why was she wearing a gown? No matter, she thought, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, hanging onto every last word Jack spoke. The carefully crafted prose spoken in the richness of his voice in a low whisper already had her shifting in her seat, pressing her knees together.
Definitely that one, she thought.
"We shouldn't do this here," Elizabeth interrupted Jack. "What if someone were to hear?"
Her eyes were quick to scan over the other crew members in the dining hall. She questioned why they were in a dining hall to begin with but the thought was cut short by Jack's thumb smoothing up her chin to the dip into her bottom lip.
"And what of it? I'm only reading you a story, Swann," Jack laughed, his eyes darkening once he swallowed down the end of laughter. "Besides, it's your dream."
Elizabeth uttered a helpless noise and pressed in close to Jack when he kissed at her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut briefly and when she opened them once more, the crew members were gone, all but one. She tried to focus her gaze on the lingering figure but Jack gently gripped her jaw with one hand, meeting her mouth in a wanting kiss. His other hand drew up her skirts, his fingers not wasting an instant, already brushing against her calf then thigh. Elizabeth exhaled a broken sigh against Jack's jaw when his touch dipped inside, finding her more than ready. It wasn't until he pushed down the front of her dress, mapping a trail of kisses across her chest that Elizabeth remembered they weren't alone.
Looking upon the lone crew member, she couldn't find words, not with Jack's mouth and hands going on as they were.
"Will," she tried, but she didn't quite know what to say.
"Ah, William," Jack turned his head to honest to goodness greet him. "Care to join us?"
"I," Will trailed off, glancing between to two. "Elizabeth—"
.
"Elizabeth. Wake up."
She jarred out of sleep with a start, her hands in fists at the front of her chest. Elizabeth looked up to Will as he petted her hair then kissed her forehead.
"You overslept. It's the morning rotation for us this cycle."
"Yes," Elizabeth answered in a rush, sitting erect. "Sorry, I," she trailed off.
She couldn't rightfully say the past few nights she would wait until he fell asleep then call upon Jack's memory, smoothing hands over her chest and working fingers inside, wishing her touch were Jack's. Furthermore, she still needed to get dressed and tie her hair up and—
Will laughed softly and took her hands to still them, pressing a kiss to the back of both.
"Just come up when you're ready, alright? Perhaps you should try a nightcap before bed."
"Perhaps," Elizabeth agreed in an echo although the last thing she needed was a thrumming relaxant coaxing her to not even wait until Will slept and just finger herself and whisper another man's name all the while with Will laying on next to her concious, probably absentmindedly petting that monkey he grew so fond of in a matter of days.
Will offered her a smile of encouragement but she didn't miss the worry behind his eyes. When he was fully up the steps, she fell onto her back and toyed a finger through her hair and a thought over in her mind. She was already late anyway.
Elizabeth slipped her hand under her nightdress and shut her eyes, allowing herself to sink into a familiar wave of pleasure. She was already late anyway.
.
Nearing the end of their rotation, Gibbs approached Elizabeth, mentioning she must meet with the Captain. Elizabeth agreed, thankful, although she knew it was regarding her tardiness.
For the past week, Jack ensured Elizabeth was on opposite rotations from him. On days when she lingered to try and catch him and succeeded, Elizabeth felt tight in her skin when she saw him, remembering his touch in his cabin. However, Jack would immediately make a swift turn in the other direction once he noticed her, lost to her once again, disappearing behind a group of crew members or swallowed up by the stairs leading to the guts of the ship.
Following behind Gibb's to the top of the stairs, about to venture down to Jack's cabin, Elizabeth felt a small flame of excitement flicker inside. In the same moment, Jack trudged his way to the top step and, at seeing Elizabeth behind Gibbs, pulled a face and made an affronted kind of noise.
"The lady was late today," Gibbs explained. "What should her punishment be, Captain?"
Elizabeth bore her eyes into Jack's and she couldn't fight off an inviting kind of smile when she noticed his mouth twitch at the question.
"Yes, what should my punishment be," she echoed, "Captain?"
She played the words completely straight but when Gibbs turned to look at Jack expectantly, she met his eyes once more, knowing her own must be alight, and she swore she also saw a fire in his.
"Nothing." Jack stumbled over the word. "Nothing." He repeated stronger then looked away at the horizon line. "Let her do whatever she wants."
Jack left without another word and Gibb's mouth fell open. He turned to Elizabeth then shrugged, offering her a good-natured smile and a disbelieving laugh.
"You must still be in well with the Captain, defending his neck at the gallows and all."
"Something like that," Elizabeth answered, her voice distant, remembering her arms wrapped around that very neck, pulling Jack in as close as possible. When she came to, noticing Gibbs studying her intently, she ducked her head, agreeing. "Yes. Surely that."
Elizabeth returned to Will's side, helping him finish the last of tightening of knots, ensuring the proper sailing of the ship. The monkey on Will's shoulder went on chittering as she stole glances at Jack who was in conversation with Gibbs. She tightened the rope with an extra sense of force and narrowed her eyes as she watched Jack peer out of his telescope. They would reach land by nightfall. Maybe she would make the effort to successfully corner him once she was out of his element, a fish out of water. The sting of rejection was worn off, mostly, and she longer to speak to him at least.
Jack returned to the deck, passing Elizabeth without so much as a glance. In that same instant, the monkey on Will's shoulder's curious chattering grew louder to a point that was unbearable for Elizabeth to stand.
"Does that thing always have to make such dreadful noise?" she snapped.
Will pet at the monkey which recoiled from Elizabeth's harsh tone, softly cooing at him, saying Elizabeth didn't mean it when she absolutely did.
"He has feelings too, you know," Will murmured defensively. He tied the last of his knots then left her side.
Elizabeth's mouth parted some, losing herself in thought.
He has feelings too.
Elizabeth let the thought echo in her mind as she finished her work with the ropes. She was going about this all wrong. Feeling scorned and unwanted, she told herself Jack was incapable of feeling, but it wasn't that at all. Jack was known to bury his feelings to get by in life—sweeping aside the past mutiny against him, near-death experiences, and such easily as if the occurrences didn't faze him. He was doing it again. That was all this was.
Not this time, Elizabeth thought.
She raised her eyebrows at the challenge. She would simply have to remind Jack how good feeling could be, making the pursuer the pursued.
.
The crew of the Black Pearl was delighted to return to land or, better stated, return to a tavern. The men piled into an alehouse that was new to Elizabeth and Will but seemingly familiar to the rest. Elizabeth let Will wrap her up from behind and kiss her on the cheek, but she pushed him on, lying that she left her coin purse behind although it was tucked away in her pocket. She stalled, leaning against the ship nonchalantly. Jack, thinking he was unwatched, gave his ship a tender touch then stepped down to port with a purpose, looking dignified up until the point his eyes fell to Elizabeth. He sighed out a noise as if he saw one of the former skeleton crew of the Black Pearl then composed himself, straightening his coat.
"Waiting around at every corner for me still? Your behavior is senseless, Swann."
"So is yours, Sparrow. You truly can't expect to avoid me forever, or have you forgotten we're on the same ship?"
Jack ignored her, turning up his nose and taking long strides towards the tavern.
"You reprieved me of any punishment," she called out to his retreating form, trailing after him.
"A sign of indifference." Jack pushed open the tavern doors.
"Or caring," Elizabeth countered, following him into the crowded space.
Jack made straight for the bar, finding an empty chair and buying ale.
"Trying to drink your way out of this one like the rest of your problems?" Elizabeth asked, sidling up next to Jack. He pulled a face at her then took a drink.
Jack rested his chin in his palm. "It's the only thing I can do that won't worsen matters."
"I'm not so sure about that."
Elizabeth bought a drink of her own and Jack's mouth fell open when she downed it instantly, her throat coaxing the liquid steadily. A thin trail of alcohol missed her lips, dripping down her neck, and Jack nearly bit his fist at the sight of her neck working down the drink, but he retained some dignity.
Finished, Elizabeth wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and smiled smugly.
"Even so, it couldn't hurt to try. I just might win," she spoke into Jack's ear before taking the seat next to him.
"Quite the show, Lizzie, but there's no way to 'win,'" Jack said with a roll of his eyes, throwing down coins with a flourish Elizabeth was certain only he held. The barmaid slid the over a new drink filled to the brim, foam spilling down the wooden sides of the mug, which he passed along to her. "And if there was, I would win. I want to forget the whole cross-matching bit much more than you. Trust me," he spoke around the rim of his mug then drank half of the ale in one go.
"Oh, does my memory not serve me well? You were the one rejected then? You were the one left feeling sorry?"
"Better rejected than stolen away from the whelp."
Elizabeth circled the tip of her finger around her drink. "Maybe I want stolen away."
Jack took his hat off, resting it on the bar. "You don't know what you want."
"Maybe not. And what of it?" she asked, exasperated. "This is my life, my time. My time to experience what I want. Experience, experiment," she trailed off and Jack turned, that dark kind of interest she was becoming too familiar with noticeable in his eyes.
She leaned forward, raising her boot to gently graze his, her knee almost teasing between his legs. A barely-there flash of a smile played on Elizabeth's lips when she noticed the corner of Jack's mouth twitched before he leaned away.
"I made my offer that night, Jack. You're the one who denied even trying to work out matters."
Elizabeth shouted when Jack stole away her drink then toasted himself with both mugs. He finished off one followed shortly after by the other. When he lowered the empty mugs, he started from Elizabeth's closeness, enough so that he would have spilled the drink were there any left.
"Sure, I denied you," Jack started, "but only because matters got so heartfelt and, and, and, and," he stalled then settled on, "weird."
Elizabeth shook her head at Jack who looked every bit a boy instead of a man in that moment. She then held out her palm, offering more coins to the barmaid, her gaze not moving from Jack's as another drink was placed in her hand.
"Coward."
"I'm not a coward!" Jack balked.
Elizabeth ignored him, downing her drink instead. Jack paid for another round of his own then forced the mug from her lips to hit the bar, spilling some. She quickly faced him, agitated.
"I'm not a coward," he repeated, his voice lower.
"What would you call a man drinking away his feelings instead of facing them?"
"In case you haven't noticed, you're right here with me, so—Takes one to know one, Misses Swann."
The way he spoke her name with emphasized irritation, as if he was about to grab her by the arms and shake her to search for some sense made Elizabeth press her knees together. She felt a flash of heated interest she was sure would only leave once he touched her there, reaching inside, drawing out all of the tension from her body once again.
She stole Jack's mug and took a long drink. He scoffed then stole hers. Elizabeth linked her arm through Jack's and the two drank in unison. She hit the bar, signaling that she finished before him, then pointed at Jack, looking breathless, elated, and a smidge manic.
"I won."
Jack smoothed his hand down his face with Elizabeth hiccupped then erupted into a fit of laughter, throwing her arms into the air.
"I won!" Elizabeth picked Jack's tricorn hat off of the bar and placed it on her head, crossing her arms at her chest and looking prideful.
"You cheated," Jack said. "She clearly cheated," he insisted to the barmaid, his hand searching helplessly for before coming to. "What am I going on about? There's no way to win," he muttered, then, to Elizabeth, "There's no way to win!"
"How about you two hash this out in the back?" the woman asked, holding her hand out expectantly.
"You know, you're right." Jack shook the barmaid's hand energetically, paid her, then took the offered key.
Elizabeth was gloating, still in a world entirely her own, when Jack looped his arm through hers again. He ignored the "blooming idiots" muttered by the barmaid, focusing instead on getting Elizabeth to a space where she couldn't make a further scene.
"Where are you taking me, Sir?" Elizabeth loudly asked through a bubble of laughter. "I fear I can't be in the company of a loser as, you see, I won," she said, leaning into Jack's side as he fumbled with the key in the lock. "I won," she repeated in a whisper into Jack's neck as he led her inside the room.
Elizabeth poked at Jack's side as he locked the door then hung the key on the hook, trying to shoo her hands away all the while.
"And what is your prize, missy? My sanity?" Jack looked down to Elizabeth, resting an arm against the doorframe above her.
Elizabeth met Jack's eyes and she softened. "You know what I want."
"I don't, actually," Jack countered, deciding to lay all of his thoughts bare, pacing. "Sure, you made an offer. A rather unclear and lousy one. What do you want, Lizzie? You want me to goad Will into joining in on trysts?"
Elizabeth seemed to consider the option for a moment but ultimately shook her head. "No."
"Then you want me, Captain of the Black Pearl, your Captain, mind you, as a second choice? Crawl into my bed only when you tire of Will?"
"No," Elizabeth said, her voice growing stronger.
"Oh, no. You want dramatics. That's the ticket. You want me to make a show of challenging Will in a duel for your hand then?"
"No," Elizabeth insisted for the third time, growing frustrated by Jack's presumptions. "What we shared has nothing to do with Will. He was initially involved but, well, when it happened, the cross-matching," she trailed off, flushing some under Jack's gaze. "What we shared was entirely our own. I was thinking of you and only you."
"Then what is it you want of me?"
Elizabeth took Jack's face in her hands, studying him carefully. He looked tired. She wondered if he lost sleep over the matter, much like herself.
"It terrifies me to admit it, but I need to feel you again and not just—I mean," she floundered, her face coloring further. She smoothed a hand up the front of Jack's chest and rested her forehead against his. "I know you felt it. What the cross-matching meant." She suddenly remembered his words from that morning then leaned back. "Why did you say that?"
"You're losing it, Swann."
"Not just now," she rushed to explain. "The morning you denied me. You said, 'Cross-matching can only happen once.' Why?"
"When cross-matching happens more than once, it becomes something else entirely," Jack said.
Elizabeth looked to him expectantly. "What does it become?"
"Matching," he supplied, stumbling over the beginning of the word, making her smile.
"Aren't you the one who asked me, 'What is wrong with wanting?'"
"Wanting and matching, two different matters entirely."
"Well, maybe we do,"—Elizabeth drew Jack forward by his shirtfront—"match." She leaned forward to add, "Captain," in a whisper at his ear for good measure.
When she pulled away, she noticed that certain look of pride behind his eyes at the title and swallowed down a smile before it could reveal itself.
Jack shook his head but wrapped Elizabeth in close regardless. "You persistent thing."