A/N- Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? Okay, high school activities, martial arts... I've just been really busy. Please don't hate me; this is the way it is. I have about ½- 1 hour of writing time a week, so there you go- little time to update. I haven't given up though, so don't worry. I'll definitely finish this!!!

Thanks for your support,

Elwyn

Quick warnings: I ended up making this chapter a little...well, maybe more than a little...bit racy. If it offends you, fair warning. I honestly don't think it's that bad, but I felt obligated.

Jack leaned against the helm, his head sore, but not terribly so. He hadn't been very drunk last night, so the hangover wasn't as bad as it could have been. He had dramatized most of it.

He had done so that he would be free of any responsibility involving the aftermath of anything that might have happened between he and Anamaria.

The exact reason he hadn't come back for her.

The sad part was that it didn't really bother him.

"Jack, you alright?"

He looked up, to see Will looking at him imploringly.

"Eh?" He answered, half-heartedly. "Yeah, yeah...fine...fine..." He waved a dismissive hand.

Will walked towards him, hand in hand with Elizabeth. "You don't look too good."

"Had a wee bit to drink last night, is all."

Will nodded, slightly disbelievingly. There was a very pregnant pause.

"Um...did anything happen between you and Anamaria last night?" Said Elizabeth, quietly.

'You hurt me, I'll hurt you, Ana,' he thought, a sick wave of joy washing over him at this thought. 'Everything you said to me, well, now it's my turn.'

Jack gave her a wicked grin. "I'm not one to kiss and tell, love."

Elizabeth looked at him, her eyebrow raised.

"You'd say that about her?"

Jack straightened up, making his way past the two of them. "I can't deny the truth."

She watched him saunter off, the beginnings of hate beginning to form.

"She's not one to let herself be used, Jack."

He turned back, giving her an equally icy look.

"You obviously don't know her as well as I do."

Anamaria's P.O.V.

Maybe if I just stay in the cabin all day, we can forget what happened.

Maybe if last night never happened, I could have enough courage to talk to you, or at least look at you.

If I never opened the door to the inn that night, then maybe we'd never have met.

I never really believed in fate after I became a pirate. So what would you call this? Did I just meet you to become another one of your whores? Because gods be good, Jack, that's what I feel like.

These thoughts depress me beyond belief. I didn't get any sleep last night, and it must be reaching nine in the morning at the very least. I turn over, pulling the sheets closer to me, as if trying to make a barrier between me and the rest of the world. Right about now, that sounds really good. Elizabeth and Will went up to the deck a while ago, and I feigned sleep. I don't want anyone to know what happened last night. I don't want the crew to know that I kissed him, or that he was too drunk to realize that he was using me as a quick thrill, and doesn't love me in the slightest.

Part of me still wants to protect what little honour he has.

There have been a few things that have happened between us that I've tried to forget when I was upset with him. I get this overwhelming feeling of being used.

On the trip from England to Port Royal, I lost my innocence to him. As he whispered, "I love you," was he using me there, too? When we arrived at Tortuga, and again shared a bed, I died inside when he went off with the whores.

I can't help but feeling that I was one of them.

Does he tell them he loves them as well?

Yet I could forgive you, Jack. I could have found it in my heart to forgive you no matter how many times you wronged me, but I'm so tired of feeling this way, Jack. I wish you could understand...

I keep trying to picture myself telling this to him, and for some reason, I can't. I rub my eyes, and try to push my unhappy feelings as far away from my mind as possible.

I don't know how long it takes, but eventually, I fall asleep.

Dinner that night was spent under tense terms at various locations around the ship. Elizabeth and Will volunteered to make some soup out of various things the crew had picked up in Tortuga, along with some bread. It wasn't much, but, as they both admitted, their cooking skills were sorely lacking. Normally, it was Anamaria who cooked, but today, she had kept mainly to herself.

As she took her dinner and sat at the table, Elizabeth's hand rested on her shoulder.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." She responded quietly. "Thanks for dinner."

She didn't eat most of it, and as Elizabeth volunteered to take care of the dish for her, Jack walked in, purposely brushing against her.

Biting her lip, she said a quick goodnight to everyone, and headed back off to the cabins.

Just running away from her problems was easier than facing them at the moment.

Anamaria's P.O.V.

Jack, why the hell are you doing this to me?

I know you just use me, so just say it already. Tell me I'm just your whore, tell me that's all. It would be so much easier than keeping up this false hope.

Once again, I'm jolted from my thoughts by another distraction, this time in the form of a knock. Two choices: I can pretend to be asleep, or I could open it. I choose the second, hoping that it'll be Elizabeth, because it doesn't sound like something I'd say, but I'd like someone to talk to right about now.

I open the door, and immediately, I knew I should have picked option number one. Jack stands there in front of me, his head tilted slightly to one side; "Can I come in?" He says, in a suprisingly quiet voice. Like I could tell him anything except yes.

He takes a few steps inside, and offhandedly locks the door. I swear inwardly to myself. Part of me knows where tonight will end up going, and the other half is trying to ignore the possibility.

"I'm sorry, Ana," he says, walking towards me. "I had too much to drink."

"Jack, don't even start." I shake my head, trying to not let the hurt look in his eyes effect me. And even though I should have probably told him not to, I don't object when he tilts my head upwards so I'm forced to look at him.

"Ana, I love you. I really do, and I'm sorry I hurt you." He leans in until our foreheads touch, an affectionate gesture. "Believe me."

And I believe him.

He kisses me, and I do nothing to stop it. I place my arms around his neck, and I realize I can't focus on the warnings going off in my head, much less anything else. He kisses my neck, and then I feel his hands underneath my shirt, as he lifts it over my head...