Much later that day, when the sun, blood red and rather angry looking, disappeared behind the horizon, Jack was in his cabin, writing in his diary. He had told his crew to follow the Green Keychain closely, and had left them to it. He was just beginning to enjoy solitude when there was a knock on the door.

"Come!" he called, looking up irritably over the top of his diary.

The door swung open, and two wide, dark eyes were the first things Jack noticed about the person standing in the doorway. He realised it was Ana, who looked no longer angry, just extremely upset. He closed his diary and placed it on the cabinet, then shifted nervously on his bed, wondering what she wanted.

"Anamaria? Is everything ok?" he asked gruffly.

He restrained a groan as she gave a loud sob and buried her face in her hands. He didn't need this, women crying around him made him nervous and edgy, and scared of saying the wrong things. He especially didn't need Ana doing this; he was still extremely mad at her for attacking Tara, and didn't want to forgive her because he felt sorry for her.

"Don't cry, Ana, luv," he said bluntly.

She lowered her fingers, so that her wet, apologetic eyes were visble. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I know yer don't like women cryin'."

So she had remembered that about him. That was interesting. He shifted uncomfortably again.

"Does she know that?" Ana's sorrowful whisper cut through him like a sword, and he glared at her.

"Don't bring her into this, Anamaria; what is it ye wanted?" he asked icily.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and looked stubbornly at her feet. She was crying silently, and when she spoke it was in a tiny, sweet voice. "You."

Jack sighed. His anger melted; it wasn't her fault he was so irresistable. "Ana..." he began.

"Do you really hate me, Jack?"

He rolled his eyes. Of course he didn't. "No, o' course I don'. Yer me oldest mate, Ana."

"I don't want ter be just yer mate, Jack," she replied softly.

He shook his head. "I don' like yer like tha', Ana."

"Yer did once!" she replied stubbornly, taking a step towards him.

"Ana- no!" he said heatedly, standing up.

"Well it's true!" she shrieked, and he clapped his hand over her mouth.

"Don't... test me, Ana," he said slowly.

He saw something stir in her beautiful eyes. A defiance, the defiance he had once loved about her. Slowly, he removed his fingers from her lips, and replaced them with his mouth. It was a slow, long, deep kiss, Jack's arms pulling her closer, his hands exploring her neck and back. Her own hands wrapped around the back of his head, and held it there. She tasted just as he remembered, a spicy flavour mixed with that of rum, not at all like the sweet taste of Tara's lips-

Tara.

Jack pulled away from Ana with a jerk, and realised what he had just done. He gasped, and stepped back, watching as a soft, evil smile played about Ana's lips.

"Leave, Anamaria," he said, a strong firmness in his voice that even she would not go against.

She left, and Jack collapsed to his bed, cradling his head in his hands. What had he done?