A/N- Sorry this took me so long to post. I don't have an excuse this time, just that I was really lazy. Fortunately, I got my computer fixed, and since I've hooked it up, that is really all I do. It is very sad that I apologize every chapter. sighs miserably I'm afraid that I will not make any promises as to when I will update, just so I won't be letting you down.

By the way, Fade,

MY GRAMMER IS NOT SH!!!!!!

The cabin was dark and silent, and the only sounds came from the gentle rocking of the ship in time with the waves, and the sound of Will's steady breathing beside her. In any other circumstance, it would have been peaceful, Elizabeth thought. But it wasn't, because a mixture of emotions- guilt, fear, and general anxiety- were welling up inside her. After Jack had left the cabin, and Anamaria had, once again, made a valiant attempt to fall asleep, Mr. Gibbs had walked in, and given more grave detail about what had happened back in the Faithful Bride. When she had learned that the fire that they saw as the four of them were leaving had burned the Port extensively, she remembered the places she thought she had seen the fires start. The first one at her house, and the second near the smithy.

If her house burned down, would her father be alive?

And if so, would he think she was alive, if he hadn't any idea she'd gone, and there was little trace of her, albeit the note, which would of burned?

The answer was no.

If this had been the arsonist's intention, then they seemed highly calculated.

Who would have wanted to erase all traces of her? If you applied that same logic to the smithy, then both of them would have appeared dead. The fire would be, of course, highly suspicious, but they would be gone. Even if no one found any remains, they could search the port, and not find anything, because they were gone.

The more she though about it, the more it seemed reasonable. She pulled the blanket closer to her, and Will shifted.

"You alright?" he mumbled quietly, his voice laced with sleep. Elizabeth worried her bottom lip, trying to determine whether of not to mention her plan tonight. He had seemed very tired in both mind and body these past few hours. Best to let him get sleep, if he could.

"Nothing." She whispered. "I have something to tell you tomorrow. Remind me." Will kissed her hair, before letting sleep take him again.

Elizabeth lay there in his arms, wide awake. She had succeeded in frightening herself.

Who would want to literally erase their existence in Port Royal?

One name came to her mind almost immediately.

Jack Sparrow.

It's just a theory, she told herself. It isn't the truth.

But it certainly could be.

It was both nervousness and anger that made Anamaria hesitate when she found herself on the deck of the Black Pearl. Through the time she had spent with Jack, she had learned to turn the other cheek when Jack got into any fights. So why, exactly, was now different?

The night was clear, the wind making the sails billow softly. The moon was waxing, swollen and in perfect contrast to the dark sky. Stars dappled the tapestry, and, Anamaria thought, this was like something out of a bedtime story for a young child. It had been a long time since she'd seen something this perfect.

Jack was silhouetted near the helm, not moving, but obviously looking up. Taking a quick deep breath, she walked forward.

"Jack?" She called softly.

He turned to face her, giving his trademark lopsided grin.

"'Ey. Come to hit me some more?" She continued walking, shaking her head.

"No. I...I couldn't sleep." In all honesty, she was exhausted. But no other excuse came to mind. Jack nodded once, taking a drink out of a bottle he held.

"You're a terrible liar." He laughed softly. Anamaria felt heat rise to her face.

"Then what would you like me to say?" She folded her arms over her chest, not facing him directly. There was only a moment's hesitation, and Jack began to laugh. Anamaria glared at him, and raised and eyebrow as he took another drink. He swallowed, and grinned.

"Don't look at me like that." He tilted his head just a little to one side. "You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"When I first met you in the inn. I asked you if you liked your job, and you said 'yes.' And then I said, 'Well, you're a bad liar,' and you went all defensive." He paused. "Well, things don't change much."

There was a very long pause this time. All the memories Anamaria had were starting to come back.

"I didn't think you'd remember that." She said quietly. Jack shrugged, finishing the bottle of rum.

"I think about it a lot." Anamaria remained silent, and he walked a little closer. "I never meant for you to be left there. I wanted to take you along." Jack's words were slurring slightly.

Anamaria hugged her arms a little tighter, feeling an uncomfortable wave of sadness wash over her.

"Jack, how long did it take you to come back for me? Years. Don't lie."

"Ana..."

"You forgot about me."

Jack looked away, and Anamaria nodded, as if confirming what she thought.

"I'm sorry, Ana. I had a lot to think about."

"Please don't make excuses. I've heard enough of them." Anamaria said, bitterly.

She turned and began walking back toward the cabin, digging her nails into her arm. She was not going to let Jack see her cry, and for the life of her did not know why in this moment she felt so bloody emotional. She was torn between slapping Jack, and sobbing, one of which was highly out of character. This wasn't like her at all, and she didn't like it much.

Her hand was resting on the handle to the cabin, and on an impulse, she turned around.

"This is where you tell me not to go." She called, turning back to face him.

"And why does it matter to you if I do or not?" Jack replied, studying her, his expression unreadable.

"Gods help me," she laughed sadly, "I love you."

Those words are my downfall, Anamaria thought.

"And it took me so many goddamn years to find you, I don't want to lose you again. Tonight when that man came aboard the ship...I was worried you'd be killed." The words came in a rush, and as she spoke, she looked down and the ground, ignoring Jack walking toward her. She felt highly uncomfortable, her usual demeanor involved hiding her emotions, not wearing her heart on her sleeve. Silently she swore tonight would be the last time her emotions got the better of her. Jack stumbled as he came nearer, but recovered. Anamaria looked up.

"You're drunk."

There was only a moment's hesitation, and then he kissed her.

It was brief, but as he pulled away, the euphoria Anamaria felt in that moment lessened, and she smelled the alcohol on his breath. She stood there, and as Jack agreed with her statement, it became hard to see as tears began forming in her eyes. She had known enough of Jack to come to realize that he didn't mean much of anything he said or did when he was drunk. She backed away, dropping her eyes to the deck.

"You don't feel the same way, do you?" Anamaria asked quietly. There was a pause, before Jack answered an equally quiet, "No."

It was almost funny, Anamaria would later think to herself, how everything can change so quickly, especially people.

"Take me back to England." She said, looking him in the eye. "I'm done with this."

A/N- Guess what? I suck at romance. Hopefully, the chapter wasn't too bad. For the next few chapters, there will not be a whole lot of humour (sorry), but I will be posting a PotC parody fic in the next, oh, two weeks. Please continue to let me now how I'm doing, though. Was is good? Did it suck? If so, what can I do to make it better?

Love you all.