Tara had taken to sitting at the back of the deck, hidden from view behind a pile of white sails. Several days had passed and yet she still hadn't moved.
Nobody on the ship seemed to care, save for Anamaria, who appeared to have taken pity on Tara. Anamaria came to see her once a day, offering chunks of bread, scraps from the table and a flagon of water. She usually did this in silence, but on the fifth evening, Tara spoke, her voice croaky and rough.
"Anamaria, how's Sparrow?"
Tara was surprised at herself for asking, even more surprised to find that she actually cared. Anamaria raised her eyebrows, though she obviously didn't read into the question.
"Drunk," she shrugged.
"I mean, after you shouted at him..."
Anamaria sighed. "Not so great. I've never seen him so morose, and we've been friends since... well, longer than I care to remember."
She pushed the pile of sails to one side, and Tara found that she had a clear view of Sparrow. He was leaning against the wheel glumly, his face sad, his eyes dark, and looking limp and sad.
"It's all my fault," said Tara softly.
Anamaria shrugged. "Don't worry. He'll snap out of it. There's some rum in the brig."
Anamaria left, leaving Tara with her confused thoughts. She nibbled some bread, but found that the great emptiness inside of her could not be filled with food. She stared at the Captain. He looked so pitiful that her heart might bleed. She couldn't understand her feelings for this man... he was evil, he had kidnapped her... and yet she liked him... didn't she?
The deck was empty. She and Sparrow were the only ones out... the Sun was sinking, making the sky orange and pink.
She stood up and walked to the wheel. Sparrow didn't even look at her.
"Jack Sparrow," she said.
"It's Captain Jack Sparrow." He sounded vacant, not full of zest and pride as usual, and he still didn't look at Tara.
"Yes, right," said Tara quickly. "Have you- er- received my ransom yet?"
"If I had you wouldn't still be here, would you?"
Tara looked stubbornly at the deck. "I'm... um... sorry."
She could feel his chocolate eyes on her now, even though she didn't dare look up.
"For what, Miss Waller?" he asked in an amused voice.
"For getting you into trouble with Anamaria," she replied, trying to sound as bitter as possible, and failing most dismally.
"Consider yerself forgiven," he snickered.
Tara looked up. He was back to staring straight ahead, smiling vaguely.
"Not," she continued, feeling irritated that he was taking this as a joke, "that I don't think you deserved it, Mr Sparrow."
He rolled his eyes. "It's Captain. Captain Sparrow. Yer not a very fast learner."
"I don't think that's a fair comment," said Tara sulkily.
Sparrow grinned. "Nah, probably not. Anyhow, what were ye saying... I deserved it, did I?"
"Yes, you did," Tara snapped.
"Ye think I take advantage of women?" he asked.
Tara rolled her own eyes. "You're a pirate."
"Damn correct."
"So... pirates take advantage of women," said Tara.
"Have you any proof of that?" Sparrow mocked.
Tara fell silent, speechless for once.
"Would ye prefer it if I did take advantage of ye, just so ye could prove yer belief?" he asked taking a step towards her.
She glared. "I came up here feeling sorry for you, Sparrow."
And she stormed off. Sparrow's voice carried behind her.
"It's Captain!"