Chapter Three: It's beautiful Jack
Over the next few days, she made her cabin much more 'homely' as Jack said. It had amazed her what she could do with the things lying around the ship. She had quite a few sculptures she'd made from drift-wood. Jack often came into her cabin, and everyone was dropping by to give her more candles, as the window-less room wasn't very bright.
"We're nearly a' a port, love," Jack says one day, the door is wide open and hooked back, letting light into the room, candles still stood in corners, blown out because of the draught from the open door. "We'll b able t' get ye a new dress, an' more candles and things."
"Great," she agrees. She takes three coins out of a cabinet and gives them to Jack.
"Wha's this for, love?" he asks.
"Remember before you took me out of the brothel, before you pinned me up against the wall. You gave me money, even though I didn't sleep with you," she says. "It's for a dress, you've given me a home, and a life, and, I know this will probably sound really ungreatful, but I don't mean it to be, but I don't want you paying for my clothes as well, even when I thought I needed to be a whore to survive, I still had some pride, and I have even more now, so take the money Jack, and pick me out something really nice."
"Yer not coming into the port wit' us?" he asks.
"No, I want to stay here, although dry land's better than the sea, I don't want to leave here, and if I stay on board I know you can't leave me," she says, poking Jack's nose gently. He takes her fingers and kisses them.
"I woul't leave ye, love, I need ye culinary skills too much. Ye don' know what it's like livin' on ol' meat and seawater," he says, laughing. Gibbs passes the door.
"Captain," he says, taking a step inside the cabin.
"Mr. Gibbs, how may I help you?" asks Jack.
"We're at port," says Gibbs.
"Thank you Gibbs, I'll be ou' in a minute," and Gibbs leaves. "Ye know, I thin' I'll stay onboard wit' ye tonight, love. I don' wanna be tempted," Jack says, and also leaves the cabin.
An hour or so later, when all the crew except Gibbs and Sarah has gone ashore, she decides to make something else for her room. There's plently of wood about on the deck, and axes to cut it with. She takes a piece up and puts it on a large round structure, used for typing the anchor rope round, and picks up a smallish axe, the bigger ones being too heavy. Gibbs comes out of his cabin and, walks over to her.
"Would you like a hand?" he offers.
"No, thank you Mr. Gibbs, I shall be fine," she says and hits the wood straight down the middle.
"I can see that, miss. I'll be leaving, but Jack shoul' be back any minute now, so you won't be onboard alone for long."
"Yes, Mr. Gibbs, I shall see you tomorrow," she says, wielding the axe again, a little more dangerously this time. Gibbs watches as she brings it down safely and then leaves The Black Pearl. After a bit of chopping, the wood is beginning to take some sort of shape, and she starts to think what it could possibly be, and decide that it must remain a sculpture, of no known shape or form, merely a work of art, in it's own right. She hits the wood another time, and a large chuck flies off and hits her shoulder, she immediately puts the axe down and tears a small strip of fabric from the hem of her petticoat to wrap around the wound, after inspecting it for pieces of wood and splinters. She believes it's clean. Just now, Jack walks up the gangplank and looks over to her. Not knowing about her injury, he goes straight into his cabin, carrying a box. 'I wonder what he's got?' She takes her sculpture, and with a smaller instrument scrape it and shape it as she wishes, and then returns to her cabin to place it on a cabinet with a few others. Out of curiosity, she knock on the Captain's door, no-one answers, she's sure she saw Jack go in there just a moment ago. She open the door a crack, then more, and walks in. Jack turns round suddenly.
"Ye frightened me, love," he said with a smile, trying to hide whatever he was doing.
"I was just wondering what you were doing Jack, and what you'd bought," she asks politley. Jack knows he can't hide it from her and shows her the box. There's a note on the top saying, 'Love Jac,' and a stubby piece of lead in Jack's hand.
"I thought you didn't know how to write?" she asks.
"Well, I go' the woman in the shop to write it down on this," says Jack, holding out another piece of paper, which 'Love Jack' were clearly written on. "Bu' I wanted to write it on meself, and the shop was busy."
"Oh, Jack," she cooes, as he finishes off the k and hands her the box. Before she can open it, he notices her arm.
"Ye're hur', love," he says and raises a hand as if to touch it, but he doesn't, he takes off the fabric bandage and looks at the wound. "Choppin' wood, eh?" he asks with a smile. She nods. He gets up and closes the curtains, as it's beginning to get dark, and he lights a few candles. The wound has stopped bleeding. Jack takes out a bottle of alcohol and an old shirt.
"It doesn't need disinfecting Jack, it'll be ok, it's only wood," she says as she gets up, putting the box down on the bed. She knows this is going to hurt, and she knows Jack won't let her get away. He finds a clean piece of shirt and folds it up. With his other hand he takes her wrist and moves her so she's sitting on the end of his bed. He moves and sits on the side of the bed, to get a clear look at her arm, and she wriggles backwards, to the head of the bed, and stops when she can't get any further.
"Jack, it's alright," she protests, but he straddles her to keep her still, and pours a little alcohol onto the shirt, and dabs the wound. Pain sears through her shoulder, only part of her realises this is the safest option, the larger part wants to kick out and hit Jack. She squirms a little.
"Come on, love, we don' wan' ye getting diseased, there's enough risk of tha' on a ship, wi'out helpin' it wi' cuts," he says, as he gently presses harder on the wound, making the alcohol burn more, she really squirms this time, and Jack rests a hand on her chest to help keep her still. He takes the shirt away, still inspecting the cut, she feels the small beads on the braids on his chin on her forehead. Then he bends down to blow on the cut.
"There," he says, triumphantly. "Tha' weren' so bad was it?"
"No, but it hurts," she replies. Jack smiles.
"I think ye were very brave," he says to this. He looks into her eyes, smiling, and gives her a quick kiss on her lips. Then he kisses her again, a little bit deeper, and with more meaning. She pulls away, not very far as she's stuck on the bed. 'What am I doing?' says a voice in her head. 'Oh come on,' says another, 'You've been flirting with him ever since you met, you find him very attractive, and he's very kind, gentle and a caring person.' 'Yes, but,' 'Oh just go away,' the other voice comes back.
"Wha's wrong, love?" asks Jack in a husky whisper. She reaches up an returns Jack's deeper kiss. 'That's better,' says the voice. She can feel Jack's fingers running through her hair, and then travelling down her body towards her waist. She sits up, knocking him over. Pain shooting through her arm, she clutches at it, not touching the wound.
"Love, I'm so sorry," says Jack, getting up and fetching a bandage, he rolls it round her arm, she winces, and he ties it together. He plants a kiss ontop of the bandage, and looks up at her. "I'm sorry," he says again. She smiles.
"It's alright," she say, resting her forehead on his. "Great timing though."
"Classic Gibbs timin' I woul' say, love," says Jack laughing. "Ye didn' open ye presen'," he said, handing her the box once more. She looks down at it, at the note reading 'Love Jack' in scrawly smudged letters, and takes off the lid. Inside is the most beautiful dress she's ever seen, it's a creamy beige colour, with deep red stitches and patterns on, small, delicate beads that look like they're made out of glass. The neck-line has a lacy, but not whore-like trim, as does the bottom. She runs her fingers over it.
"Jack, it's beautiful," she says, shocked.
"I hope' ye'd like it," said Jack, pleased.
"But this must have cost you more than I gave you," she says, looking at him.
"Well, I di' add a bi' of me own money to it, ye know? Wante' a dress as lovely as ye, an' I weren' gonna get it unless I pai' a lot fer it, beautiful things don' come cheap," he says. 'He's so sweet,' she thinks.
"Will you help me put it on?" she asks. He nods, as she slips her petticoat, which is now quite dirty, over her head and Jack helps fasten her into the dress, not even looking at the enormous amounts of bare flash she shows between dresses. It looks even more beautiful on, and Jack stands back to admire her. She smiles as she look down at herself, twirling around. She rushes to give Jack a thank you hug, which he gladly returns, she rests her head on his shoulder as he holds her waist tightly.
"I go' ye some more sui'able clothin' fer workin' on the ship," he says, "Dresses are a bi' o' a loose canon onboar' a ship, ye know."
"Thanks, Jack," she releases him from the hug.
"Ye tire', love?" he asks. She nods.
"Yes, but I don't think I could sleep," she replies. Jack gently guides her to the bed, but she knows he's not going to try anything. She falls backwards and he lays beside her.
"Ye ever been in love, love?" Jack smiles at his choice of words.
"I don't know, Jack," she says.
"Wha'd ye mean, ye don' know?" Jack asks.
"Are you asking me how I feel about you?" she asks in return, knowing that this is what he's trying to get out of her.
"Yes," Jack stated, a little more boldly than she had imagined he would.
"Love's a strong word, Jack. I've known you, a week maybe. I can't fall in love in a week. But I like you, a lot," she says, looking at him. "Now it's your turn."
"Love is a strong wor', love," says Jack, and she's not sure whether he knows he's just contradicted himself. "Bu' I like ye, I like ye a lo'." She snuggles a bit closer to him and he puts an arm behind her head.
"So," Sarah begins. "What happens now?"
"What d'ye mean, love?"
"Well, Jack. We've both just admitted that we like eachother," she says.
"A lo'," Jack buts in.
"A lot," she agrees with a laugh. "So, what happens now?"
"Well, love. We wai' a while, an' see if we fall in love I 'spose," he says. This confuses her slightly, and she frowns a little, while smiling, trying to make that last comment make more sense.
"Jack?" she asks, moving her head slightly.
"Yes, love?" She leans over to him and kisses him gently, he returns the kiss, stroking her hair and then jawline. She slowly rolls over onto him, he puts both his hands on her hips, kissing her passionately. She begin to run her fingers slowly through his dreadlocks and rests her other hand on his shoulder. Jack remembers her injured shoulder and takes special care not to touch the bandages. She breaks the kiss and smiles at him, he smiles back.
"Oh, Jack," she says.
"D'ye still like me?" he asks.
"I still like you a lot Captain," she says teasingly.
"Captain eh? I love it whe' ye remember me status, love. So, how d'ye feel, kissin' ye Captain?"
"It feels naughty," she says, tapping his nose.
"Ye better be careful, love. Or I migh' jus' ge' tempted," Jack says, before kissing her again.
"And what would I have to do, to make you tempted?" she asks.
"Well, firs', ye need t' relax," says Jack, he waits, until he feels her relax, resting her head on his shoulder. "And' tha's all ye gotta do love." He rolls them both over, so he's on top. "Still relaxin'?"
"Yes I am Captain."