Chapter: Through Heat and Hate

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- Aboard the Dauntless -

Dawn was fast approaching as the two men sat, thoroughly exhausted, on the deck of the Dauntless as it sped with full sails into Port Royal. They were returning home. The two men had been given the task of watching the horizon for oncoming ships, and were finding it rather hard to keep their eyes open.

Commodore Norrington had kept his men on tight schedules the past near three months since he had learned of Sophia's kidnapping. Watchmen were always present on the Dauntless, scanning the horizon for the three-masted ship with black sails, while the commodore holed himself up in his cabin and poured over his maps and muttering to himself. He was quick to rise to a temper and many of the younger members of the crew were rather frightened of him when he emerged from his cabin, wig askew and eyes bright with obsession. Their leader was unraveling in the absence of his wife.

Thomas McCullough poked his companion of the long hours of the night, Christian Wheiz, his eyes plastered to the rim of the small hand telescope. "'Ey, mate. Take a look a' this."

Christian snored on. With a grunt, Thomas hit him with a closed fist soundly on the arm. "OY! Christian!"

Said watchman started awake, his eyes widening briefly before focusing on his companion. "What? Christ, Tom, you didn't need to hit me," he accused, rubbing the offended arm miserably.

"There's a ship jus' on the 'orizon. Three-master, white sails. Migh' be o' the pirate sort."

Christian scrambled from his reclined position, taking the hand telescope from the less-experienced man and expertly adjusted it to focus. The ship was moving fast, now a good deal further from the point at which Thomas had spotted it. Christian did not recognize it and it was too far away to get a proper view of the name. "Go fetch Commodore Norrington, Tom, will you?" Tom scurried off, returning with the bedraggled commodore several moments later.

Norrington looked as if he had not slept in quite some time. Dark shadows circled eyes red with fatigue, and he walked with a swaying motion that caused Christian to wonder if he'd been drinking. Nevertheless, the commodore took the hand telescope from him and focused it on the horizon abruptly and without a word.

Norrington's eyes widened as he spied the familiar ship, his mouth twisting into a smirk of triumph. The ship had white sails in place of black, but was moving so quickly and in such a way that was unmistakable. Norrington knew. He knew it was the Black Pearl. Jack Sparrow was within his grasp. Revenge.

And Sophia would return to him. His beautiful wife who had been taken by that savage would come home and love him and be loved in return and rescue him from his emotional downward spiral that had materialized in her absence.

Norrington lowered the telescope and gazed at the speck on the horizon that was Sparrow's ship, lost in his thoughts. The ship seemed to be changing its course a bit, but that didn't bother Norrington. He knew they would still catch Sparrow by surprise.

Christian and Tom shuffled their feet slightly, awaiting his orders. Finally, they came: "Raise top-sails, men! I want full speed ahead and we haven't got a moment to loose. That's the Black Pearl."

The two men started with excitement, hurrying off to inform the other men of their shipmates of the discovery. Finally, they had found the Black Pearl, the ship that they had spent months looking for!

Norrington grinned and raised the telescope to his eye again, spanning the horizon for the ship. His mouth dropped open in disbelief.

It was gone. The skyline was bare.

He searched the sea for several more minutes, dismay clearly portrayed upon his features as his motions became desperate. The Black Pearl must have turned around. How could they have known that the Dauntless had caught sight of them?

Norrington snapped the telescope closed and, with the abrupt motions of a man trying in vain to contain his anger, hurled it against the mast of his ship. The glass shattered into a thousand unfixable pieces and clattered against the deck as they fell.

They couldn't go after the ship now, with no point to strive towards. They would be wandering the ocean in vain, only to return empty-handed months later. It was better to stake out some pirate town that Sparrow was bound to stop in at one point or another.

Norrington grasped the railing tightly as he stared into the waves that crashed beneath the ship, his knuckles white with unspent strength. Who knew how much longer they would be searching?

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- Aboard The Black Pearl -

Jack had wisely chosen not to return to his cabin that night, rather leaving Sophia to fume with resentment, hoping that the time alone would calm her spirits. Instead, he retired to the crew's communal sleeping quarters, secretly pouring over the riddle that he'd dictated from Sophia's body.

In a place named for the oldest and wisest of things. . .

Jack was lost, having retrieved every name of every town he had visited in his travels, even those he thought may have existed in his childhood dreams and petty travels.

Now he pushed the door open silently to his cabin, wishing his boots didn't clunk so much as he walked across the room to retrieve a gigantic map of the Caribbean. Sophia was asleep with her chin resting lightly against her chest and her arms thrust back at an awkward angle, hands still tied. Jack's hands twitched as he remembered the smoothness of her skin beneath his fingers.

And, of course, he chose that time to trip over a bloody chair.

Jack righted himself, merely stumbling amidst the great racket ha had produced, only to find Sophia's gray eyes glaring at him.

"Are you going to untie me now?" She sounded tired and more than a bit miffed as she pressed her back against the bedpost, trying to relieve the stretch in her shoulders and the pain in her arms.

Jack sighed. "I should think you've 'ad enough punishment, aye?" Slowly, he kneeled down to untie her bonds, consciously aware of their close proximity as he reached behind her back, his forearm brushing across the soft fabric of her dress.

Sophia let out a gasp as the rough linen came loose and gradually retracted her arms from their uncomfortable arrangement, her shoulder joints aching in protest. She rubbed resentfully at the raw spots on her wrists, glowering at Jack as her muscles became accustomed to their rightful position again.

Jack ignored her and went to search for his map, grinning faintly as he anticipated the cold treatment he was sure to receive in repercussion for leaving Sophia tied up all night. He was always rather entertained by her flustered moods.

Sophia stood up and promptly plopped down on the bed as her numb legs gave out underneath her. With a groan, she kneaded her calves with harsh movements in an attempt to bring the blood back into her limbs. "Did you really have to tie me up?"

Jack merely grinned. "Aye. I love t' hear you scream, love." His eyes twinkled merrily with mischief as he watched Sophia's cheeks color pink.

"I did not –" Sophia cut herself off as she realized that she had, in fact, been screaming last night in protest to Jack hauling her over his shoulder and tramping her off to his cabin. "Damn you, Jack Sparrow."

"Already been done, love." Jack countered smartly, before turning on his heel, map stowed firmly at the crook of his elbow, and strode from the room, leaving Sophia to nurse her sore wrists, aching shoulders, and useless legs.

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The days grew stiflingly hot, the Caribbean sun beating heavily down on the Pearl's crew as they worked. All the men stripped their shirts from sweaty chests, and Anamaria, in frustration, had taken a knife to her shirt, leaving only enough to cover the most vital parts, and could be seen glaring at any who cast her a sidelong glace. Sophia briefly considered doing the same, but after little thought decided against it, knowing that she wouldn't be able to bear any lingering gazes from the less moral of the crew. She did, however, cut off her pants at the knee and the sleeves of her blouse, but was still suffering from the heat.

And so she sat at the bow of the ship, hoping with childish abandon that the wind would suddenly transform from a sultry fume to ice-like jabs of breeze. Finding her wish left un-granted, she turned to watch the men she had come to recognize as her crewmates work, a sea of slick bronze skin, flexing muscles and masculinity. She would have blushed had this been the sight on her last stay on the Pearl, but she was older now and more experienced in the ways of men and of their bodies.

She knew that sooner or later she would have to join them, sweating and straining to carry her load of the work. She had no qualms about working, nor arguments, for that matter. She rather liked how her arms, legs, and torso had lost their helpless soft quality and were growing lithe and lean with flat muscles, not at all un-feminine. She remained pale, though, the white English skin of her mother the dominating hue on her body. Sometimes she wished for her father's Spanish, bronze skin so that she could grow golden and protected from the angry red burns that the suns wreaked frequently upon her skin, but, for the most part, was happy with her appearance and her life on the ship.

Sophia had not the nerve to ask where their destination was. She doubted that Jack, despite the intelligence that she knew he possessed but still chose to hide, had discovered the location of the Fortunes, or that he had told many others of the crew what they were searching for, for they seemed lost and dazed in the heat, not determined as they would be if they knew what their captain was looking for.

Sophia scooted from her perch on the bow of the ship, her bare feet slapping across the wooden deck of the ship as she walked. She had long abandoned boots in the heat. Grasping hold of the rigging, she swung herself up to sit astride a bundle of ropes, setting herself to the task of repairing those which had come untied or worn and replacing those which were ruined.

Jack watched Sophia from his place at the wheel of the ship, grinning faintly as she climbed about the ropes with the best of them, her small frame and flexibility perfect for reaching those places that the men could not. She was, truly, a natural sailor.

It was days like this that Jack was glad he had kept a close eye on his hat, for the brim shaded his eyes from the roasting sunlight. He, along with the rest of the men, had discarded his shirt, and could almost feel his skin baking and growing browner in the sun.

It was true that Jack did not know were they were headed, and was merely sailing the ocean, stopping in various places and meeting various people that he could trust enough and thought could perhaps help him solve Sophia's riddle. Nor had he told the crew that he held the secret of Ektibar's treasure. After being marooned (for the first time, he thought wryly), Jack learned his lesson.

Jack left the wheel to Anamaria for the moment, swaggering over to stand below Sophia, craning his neck up to look at her as she sat, straddled, on a gathered bunch of ropes, diligently repairing those which were unusable.

Sophia glanced down, catching sight of the pirate as he gazed at her. "Yes, Captain?"

Jack grinned widely. Sophia had taken to calling him captain again after their little escapade involving torn linen and bedposts. "You've been workin' for six hours straight, love. Don't you want t' come out o' the heat and 'ave a rest?"

Sophia swung from her perch on the rope, landing several feet away from Jack. Taking several steps closer to face him, she sensed the heady scent of male sweat – not at all unpleasant in its own way – and cleared her throat. Casually, she straightened her clothes before speaking. "Everyone else on this ship has been working for just as long as I have, some longer. I don't see why I should need a rest when they do not."

Frowning, Jack realized his blunder. Damn that woman, always finding a way to turn his words around on him. "I jus' thought-"

"You just thought that since I'm a woman and not Anamaria, that I would be weaker than the rest of you and need a break so I don't get the bloody vapors or something of that sort! Well, Jack Sparrow, I'm living proof that –"

Sophia cut off, noticing Jack's rather flummoxed look and realizing that she was being too harsh in her retaliation. She had not seen Jack without his shirt on up close since she had tended to his bullet wound, and her breath caught in her throat as she observed the stark, heavy scar just below his right shoulder. Her fingers drifted on their own accord to carefully rest upon the scar tissue, before moving to trace around the scar's edge. "I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack was distracted from the stirring feeling of her touch when she spoke, and shifted his gaze to her face, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. "You're bloody sorry?" Jack reached up to cup her shoulders with his palms, squeezing gently to gain her attention and force her to meet his gaze. Sophia did so, reluctantly, shamed that she had caused him so much pain.

"Sophie, if it wasn't for you, I'd be dead. . . an' then where'd we be?" He added with a cocky smirk, before his expression returned its serious nature. Sophia was somewhat bothered by Jack's sudden change of character. It wasn't like him to admit that he owed his life to someone. Jack let the silence reign for a bit longer before once again speaking, "Don't be sorry for what you 'ad t' do, love."

Sophia nodded demurely, squirming from Jack's hold, his body heat, and him. Jack let her go, grinning faintly at her discomfort. "I have work to do, Jack," she stated quietly, turning from him to return to the riggings.

"Aye."

He had a rather nice view of her behind as she climbed back up to her work.

-

Sophia was nearing sleep. Her mind was pouring over everything: the Fortunes, Jack's quest to find them, the Pearl, her husband, home (where was home?), and Jack himself.

She knew Jack was still attempting to solve the riddle. Sophia, of course, knew the answer, but also knew that she would not be able to give him even the slightest hint. Her family's curse would prohibit her from doing so.

Jack.

Her mind was still trying to pinpoint what sort of person he was, and the events earlier today had confused her yet further. She knew he had kindness, but he was also sly enough to almost be dubbed as catlike. He also had close to no conscience.

Sophia brought a hand to her neck, remembering when his warm hands had spanned the skin there, gentle and yet still demanding. She shivered.

Then why did he intrigue her so? Sophia did not know. She knew he was handsome, and that, when they visited various ports, women always knew him and nearly tripped over themselves trying to gain his attention. He also had a hidden charm about him that those women seemed to respond to.

Sophia's legs were cramping. She had to get out of this bed. The destination that popped into her head, strangely, was Jack's cabin. She knew he wouldn't be asleep, more likely sitting at his desk with her riddle in hand. Why did she want to go there? Sophia justified this question with wanting to perhaps give him some sort of hint using her body motions instead of her voice on the Fortunes' whereabouts. In the back of her mind she knew that this was not the only reason. She wanted touch.

Sophia missed that, touch. It was the aspects of her marriage she missed most of all, in fact. She missed a brush of the arm during conversation, the soft stroking and petting of her skin before lovemaking.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, finding her trousers and slipping them on, tucking her shirt in so that it would not hang past her knees.

Even the night was hot and sticky. Sophia padded over to Jack's cabin door. She could feel her confidence faltering with each step, her stomach contracting with nervousness. Carefully, she raised a hand to knock, her knuckles hesitating over the wood. Taking a breath, she steeled herself and knocked. The sound seemed to ring out over the black sea.  

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A/N: Oooo. . . cliffy. Will this finally be what you've all been waiting for? Wild, passionate sex? I'll never tell. . .

I will be, however, the first to confess that this chapter has a lot of fluff in it. One of my transition chapters, if you will.

I'm soo sorry it took so long! This week is finally spring break, and the weeks beforehand are always crazy. Teachers try to cram stuff in. Blah.

Once again, thanks to my reviewers. You guys are the reason I'm writing this little story! I love you all!

Angsty with Norrington, no? Poor guy, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.