Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing POTC.
A/N: I am continually overwhelmed by the positive response to my story. I'm so happy you all like it so much. Your great reviews never fail to get me excited to write the next chapter. Speaking of the next chapter . . . here it is!
"Jack?" Ana said.
The pirate pulled away just far enough so that Ana could see his dark eyes. The kohl lining his lower lids was smudged and his cheeks were wet. The incomparable Jack Sparrow had cried . . . for her.
"Anamaria?"
His voice was like velvet on her ears as he said her name. No one had ever called her by her full name. Her parents and her brothers always called her Annie, and her husband had called her Maria.
"Listen to me, Anamaria," the pirate's hand was on her face. Despite the calluses, his touch was like silk. "Who did this to you?"
Ana raised her fingers to the pirate's face and wiped away all that remained of the tears he had shed for her. "Were you crying?" she asked, as though she were oblivious to his question.
"You aren't listening to me, luv."
Ana's eyes fluttered. "I'm tired," she said as her vision started to blur.
"No. Come on, darling, stay with me."
"I-I don't –" Black spots were starting to form in front of Ana's eyes. She could not see the pirate, anymore. Her eyelids were so heavy. "Jack?" she said again, before finally letting the darkness claim her.
///////////////////
The sky was dark, when Ana woke up. She opened her eyes slowly, at first. The moonlight was cascading down and covering her in a blanket of shimmering white light. She sat up very slowly, at first. The shooting pain in her stomach was gone, replaced by a constant ache. She was supremely uncomfortable, but she could feel that the worst had past.
Glancing around the room, Ana's eyes suddenly shot open. She was not in her house. She was not in a building at all. She was in a cave. The light from the moon was pouring in from the cave's mouth, behind her. A fire was dying beside her. A cave. There were easily hundreds of small caves on Jamaica. She had been told that there was one on the edge of her own property, but the events of the last few days had prevented her from looking for aforementioned cave. She had no idea where she was, or what time it was.
She had been lying near the fire, wrapped in a blanket that she recognized as her own. Her bloodied dress was on the ground on the other side of the fire. She immediately became aware of what she was wearing, or rather, almost wearing. The front of her corset had been sliced open!
Ana had never had her clothes cut from her body before, but she felt that it would certainly be an occurrence that she would remember. The problem she was facing was that she could not remember anything at all. She rubbed her temples. She remembered Cornado, and that he had tried to kill her. She had seen Findley, and then she remembered waking up in the arms of a pirate.
Jack Sparrow. His name ran through her head as she fingered her mutilated corset. He must have had something to do with this. Ana shook her head, still trying to muddle through her thoughts. Yes, the pirate definitely was the last thing she remembered. What she did not know was if he had helped her or . . . Ana looked at her discarded dress . . . or if he had done something . . . else.
Shakily, Ana got to her feet while at the same time trying to hold her dress together. Her stomach throbbed in protest, but she ignored the pain. She needed to figure out what was going on. Cautiously, she walked towards the cave entrance, taking care not to further aggravate her wound.
She stopped in her tracks as she approached the mouth of the cave and heard footsteps. "Leaving already, luv?"
She tried desperately to hide behind the remnants of her corset and underskirts, very aware of her inappropriate appearance and the way the pirate was looking at her.
"Where were you?" she asked, hoping to focus the man's attention elsewhere.
"Market," he answered, holding up a sack filled with bread and apples.
She arched an eyebrow. "You are still wanted by the authorities, correct?"
"Aye." The pirate furrowed his brow.
"And you just go waltzing into a crowded market to buy some fruit?"
The pirate smiled, revealing his shiny gold teeth. "These things were donated."
"Donated? To the 'Save Your Local Pirate' fund?"
Sparrow's black eyes sparkled. He held up his other hand, which held a familiar long brown robe, "to the church?"
Ana sighed. "It boggles my mind that anyone would mistake you for a member of the clergy."
The pirate bowed gallantly as though her comment was a compliment.
"Maybe you should take up acting," she suggested.
He walked past her and sat down by the fire, "not a chance, luv."
"No?"
"Unsavory people, actors."
Ana carefully eased her aching body down next to the pirate. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders in an attempt to appear more properly covered. "Speaking of unsavory," she started, "I can't quite remember, but I think you saved my life. So I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."
"Bout what, luv?"
"Well, I'm clearly not dressed at all the same as I was earlier this evening."
"Yesterday evening."
"What?"
"You slept through this evening."
"Fine, but you didn't answer my question."
"What are you asking me?"
The crackling fire reflected in the pirate's eyes. He knew precisely what she was asking, and he looked almost hurt that she would ask it. "Why is my dress over there and not right here," she said gesturing in front of her body.
"Are you implying that I – "
"I'm not implying anything. I don't remember."
A Cheshire cat smile spread across Sparrow's face. "If I had done what your insinuating, believe me, luv. You would remember."
Ana pursed her lips and promptly wiped the grin from Sparrow's face with the palm of her hand. The pirate touched his cheek and regarded her curiously. Ana crossed her arms in a manner to indicate that she still expected some sort of explanation for the condition of her dress.
"I stitched you up, luv. Nothing more, you have my word," he said spreading his hands.
"And what will I do with the word of a pirate?" she asked, smiling to soften her seemingly harsh words.
"Whatever you want, darling. Just don't hit me with it."
Ana laughed.
"Where are we?"
"Bump on the head too? We're in a cave."
"I have no desire to slap you again, but – "
"We're actually in your own backyard."
Ana smiled. Her new home appeared to be the perfect place to harbor fugitives.
"Are you ever gonna tell me what happened?" Jack's voice interrupted her whimsical thoughts.
Sighing Ana faced the pirate. He was staring into the fire, with a scowl hovering over his handsome face. "It was Cornado." Ana did not know if Sparrow wanted her to elaborate, so she waited trying to gauge his reaction. She saw his jaw clench and unclench, but aside from the tiny movement in his face, he completely hid his emotions. "He threatened to turn me in for hiding you in my house. I got angry and threatened to tell Admiralty what kind of a man Cornado really is. Then, he got angry and, well . . . I guess you know the rest."
Ana watched Sparrow's face, but he still said nothing. "Why did you come back?" she asked, finally.
The pirate turned from the fire and fixed his eyes on Ana. His face was no longer the mask that she had seen earlier. His dark eyes were fathomless and for a split second Ana could see the all of the doubt, shame, sadness and pain that he was feeling. "I'm sorry this happened to you," he said softly.
"It isn't your fault," she said in a voice that almost pleaded for Sparrow not to blame himself.
"Yes, it is," he said. Once again, his face was unreadable.
All her life, she had heard stories that romanticized the lives of pirates. They were made to seem like gods among men. Alongside those stories were the views of the proper people in town. Pirates were evil beings that needed to be destroyed. Jack Sparrow was neither, or both.
Ana shivered involuntarily.
"Something wrong?"
"I'm cold. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not wearing a whole lot."
"Oh, I've noticed, luv."
"I have warned you already that I have no qualms about slapping some manners into you."
The pirate smiled. "I could go up to your house and get a dress for you?"
"You wouldn't mind?"
He shook his head.
"Thank you, Mr. Sparrow."
"Jack."
"What?"
"Call me Jack."
That's it for now! Don't forget to review.