Danielle Z: I'm glad you liked the story so much! Here's more, and I've got another chapter following close by.

Dead-Girls-Watch: (blushes) Thanks

pantpie: Actually, I didn't get the word effulgent from BtVS, but thanks for paying close attention to details like that ;) ! I'm glad you like the fic so far.

Kristi: Yes, yes: I was just coming to it. Very soon, as a matter of fact

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A/N: As always, reviews are MUCH appreciated. Thanks again to all who reviewed my previous chappies...and don't forget to review this one, all! Please, good or bad - I need your comments!

And now on to the twelfth installment of this story. I am very proud of it. Not to pompous ... but proud.

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Elizabeth woke up with a start. For a moment she lay there, wondering what had happened.

Then she remembered.

Pirates.

Elizabeth shot upright, gasping a little as her heart skipped a beat, and looking wildly around. She was in a fancy ships' berth. The chestnut wooden walls were lined with gilt tracery and hung with a few small lanterns. The back wall, to Elizabeth's right as she sat there, was quite long, and was spread from corner to corner with windows of twelve panes. The panes were small and thick and curved slightly outward, and through them Elizabeth caught a glimpse of the sea.

With a small cry she rushed to the window and knelt fervently at the long hard seat that protruded out from under the sill. Pressing her nose hard against the glass, she peered out at the scenery around her.

There was nothing but ocean water for as far as she could see.

"Oh no," Elizabeth moaned, letting her hands slide dejectedly down the panes. "Not again."

She been captured once before, but it had been her own fault. If she hadn't taken the pirate medallion from Will, then she might not have met Barbossa or his loathsome crew. Somehow she had gotten out of it end... All the pirates had wanted was the medallion - and a little blood - but it had all been resolved: now Elizabeth hardly dared to wonder what it was she had been captured for this time. It seemed that there was no hope for her for now she had no medallion. There was another fear lurking at the back of her mind, presenting itself menacingly as another possible fate for her aboard the ship, but she pushed it away hastily.

The door of the berth opened and Derk walked in. He was bearing a plate of food that looked unfamiliar but smelled strongly of fish. Elizabeth remembered the pirate from the night before and backed defensively up against the window.

"You's awake then?" Derk inquired as he slapped the plate down on a table nearby. Elizabeth didn't answer, but graced him with a withering stare.

"Awri'ght, awri'ght; don't give me that look," the pirate commented in retort. "You'll be happy enough within days I can 'spect." Elizabeth raised a dignified eyebrow. "Either way, I'm to tell you to come up to the deck for an' to speak wif tha Cap'n."

"I shall do no such thing," said Elizabeth sharply.

Derk surveyed her thoughtfully.

"Wall," he remarked, "I did have a threat for ta make ya on account of yer turnin' down the Cap'n's requests, but dontcha think you could save me time by jess comin along now?"

Elizabeth pondered this proposal momentarily. She remembered a similar situation aboard the Black Pearl - turning down Barbossa's request and getting threatened then too - and decided that it might be worthwhile to make things easier, or quicker, by just obeying Derk's commands.

She inhaled slowly and carefully.

"Alright," Elizabeth accepted evenly. "I'll come."

Derk nodded his head and took it all with ease as if it was a regular thing for him to deal with stubborn prisoners. Elizabeth did not doubt that it was. The pirate motioned casually to the food, which was now blossoming off an acrid stench and rapidly permeating the air of the cabin, and asked her if she intended to eat it.

"No," said Elizabeth firmly.

Derk nodded again and swung the cabin door open wide to allow Elizabeth first passage out.

The latter hesitated. "You're not going to tie my hands or hinder me from escaping or anything like that?" she asked timidly.

"Nawp," said Derk cheerfully. "Cap'n says ta tell ya thar's fearsome sharks abroad and jumping from a fast sailing ship into them waters will not be in yer best interests." Elizabeth was stunned into silence.

She followed Derk out on deck. The bright high morning sun hit her face pleasantly, and for a brief moment she reveled in the fresh scent of the salty sea air. The wind was full in the sails and the ship surged over the waters with a bounding intent only known and recognized by seafaring folk. Elizabeth felt it immediately and was privately thrilled. It had been ages since she had last been sailing and, despite the grim situation, Elizabeth felt rather adventurous being out at sea once again.

Taking her eyes off of the masts and sky, she turned back to the deck and found herself the subject of many a glance.

"Ruddy pirates," she thought, color coming to her cheeks as she thrust her head into the air and marched proudly after Derk.

Her guide did not stop to help her up the small narrow stairway that led to the upper deck, but she found it easy enough to do it by herself with the realization that she would have refused his help if he had offered it. On deck, the coxswain eyed her grimly as he fiddled with the ships' wheel. Elizabeth ignored him, searching her surroundings instead for the audacious Captain.

Wilde stood with his back to the bow, facing off into the retreating sea left churning behind his ship. He wore a brocade coat as he always did, and a large hat with a floppy three-cornered brim. His dark hair twisted out behind him in the billowing breeze.

Derk approached him from the back and murmured something into his ear in low tones. Elizabeth stood by, watching curiously and straining to catch a word of the conversation as she hovered uncomfortably near the exit of the deck. The conversation was not a long one, however, and with a nod from the Captain, Derk took off onto the lower deck in humble obeisance.

Elizabeth watched him go with feelings of mingled curiosity and despair knowing that now she must inevitably face the captain whom she had been dreading since he assaulted her in the alley. She had no actual proof that the pirate she had met in the alley was at all the same Captain she stood ready to meet, but her instincts pointed to that conclusion.

He had one hand resting carelessly on the railing, but as he turned he clasped it and his other behind his back. Elizabeth's heart sped up again with a nervous diagonal leap.

The captain's eyes met hers.

"Hello Mrs. Turner," he said.

Elizabeth took a shaky breath and squared her shoulders resolutely. She said nothing, only glared at her captor with a look that would have sent any weak-heart crawling away in distress. The captain, however, was unperturbed. He sauntered toward her, hands still behind his back, and his head cocked slightly as he looked her over.

"I do apologize for your treatment by my crew," he said in a low and almost seductive tone. Elizabeth shivered.

"Your apologies mean nothing to me," she hissed between clenched teeth. "A brute such as yourself could never feel anything so humane as remorse."

One look into his eyes had revealed his identity to Elizabeth as the pirate from the Alley back at Port Royal, and this knowledge did not lessen her apprehension. Indeed she felt her fear grow and flourish inside her. Silently she asked herself why it had to be this one pirate out of all the others who had captured her, feeling that she would have taken any of them over him.

The captain came closer.

Elizabeth could smell his scent; a light odor of wood and tar clung to the fibers of his jacket, mixed with a hint of musk. She cringed.

"Why have you brought me here?" she demanded to know.

The Captain looked slightly taken aback as if he hadn't expected a lady to be so bold. Elizabeth herself felt that considering the circumstances, she had no reason to behave politely, especially on a Pirate ship. As far as she was concerned, social mores ended at the boarding plank.

"Does a Pirate require a reason, my lady?" Wilde was inquiring.

Somehow, Elizabeth felt that this wasn't the answer she had been looking for.

"Couldn't you ... invent one?" she asked helplessly, and was rewarded with a forebearing smile from Captain Wilde. Elizabeth felt a little snubbed, as if she was a child who needed to be curbed and have everything explained to her in large print lettering.

"My reason will be," began the Captain softly, "That in all my years of sailing, and in all the lands of this world, I have never seen any woman more beautiful than yourself."

Elizabeth started violently, as if she had been struck. Indeed, his words did strike disgust in her heart, and the effect resonated to her very soul. The idea that her beauty had resulted in this current predicament made her flesh crawl. It could not be her fault: no, she would never believe that. And yet...the thought began to haunt her.

She flinched again when Wilde took her hand. He was quite close to her now, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, and an impulsive shiver ran down her spine.

The Captain's face was nearing hers. In an instant, Elizabeth realized that he was going to kiss her. She could think of nothing more horrible than to be kissed by her captor, and such a captor as Wilde was. Regardless of his suavity he was still a dirty great Pirate who had abducted her and forced her to come aboard his ship - all for purely selfish reasons.

Elizabeth jerked her hand out of Wilde's grasp and drifted quickly over to the railing at the back of the ship.

"That's not a reason," she fluttered hastily, returning to the last comment. Not that he had to give her any at all. She was his prisoner and had no right to demand anything. It was rather unfair.

"What's not a reason?" Wilde wondered aloud. "That you're the most ravishing female I've ever met?" Elizabeth's cheeks grew hot. She heard the clinking of Wilde's boots on the boards of the deck as he approached her again.

"It may be a bit difficult to understand," the Captain began slowly, "But I'm not lying to you."

Ever so slowly he stole up behind her and gently passed his hands up to the nape of her neck. Elizabeth bent slightly forward, involuntarily pressing herself more tightly to the railing in an attempt to avoid his touch. Wilde seemed not to notice as he continued to stroke his thumb over the smooth skin beneath her hairline at the back of her neck. His hands moved in slow, seductive caresses over he shoulders and down her arms. Elizabeth's stomach clenched as the Captain pressed a gentle kiss to her hair and another at her jawline under her ear. She willed herself to remain immobile and unnattuned to him, to be still and cold when the Captain clearly begged for her response. Briefly she wondered how many women had swooned under such caresses, and how many had been forced to endure them just as she was now. Elizabeth felt ill.

She gritted her teeth.

"Unhand me," she commanded. Wilde's grip on her throat tightened ever so slightly at the request. Elizabeth felt the bristles of his scant beard against her ear as he leaned in to her.

"Unhand you?" he asked, his voice full of mockery. For a fleeting instant Elizabeth recognized fury on her part as an unwise idea and was bewildered with an answer. Wilde's derision made her face flush pink, and she bit her lip unhappily.

It would plainly do no good to be demanding with him: Wilde was a pirate and appeared to have all of the bad qualities so commonly attributted to those in his line of occupation. It was apparent to her that if the Captain was antagonized the advances would surely not cease, and if worse came to worse he might even force her. Elizabeth remembered the tales of Blackbeard and went very cold.

Demanding would not do. But then, what options did she have?

Ah yes.

She would be ladylike. If anything would soften the heart of a pirate - or at least delay his intentions for a good safe while - it was to be a lady. A Charming Lady. A cunning lady.

A lady could say anything, truth or no, and according to popular belief it must be believed by all. A charming lady could lie herself in and out of any situation if she was skilled enough.

Instantly, Elizabeth assumed weakness. It was not difficult: she'd had a child before and knew weakness like the back of her hand. She drooped a little and tried to look pale as she brought her hand delicately to her forehead. Turning to Wilde, slowly, and dropping her gaze in modest acquiescence, Elizabeth tried her expirement.

"I'm not feeling well I'm afraid," she said, deliberately making her voice low and husky. She inhaled in graceful slowness. "The rocking of the ship ... it is making me ill." Elizabeth closed her eyes seductively and laid a trembling hand on her bodice, the other to her chest and throat. Well done, she congradulated herself. You would make a fine actress.

Wilde looked at her. Silently Elizabeth prayed that her excuse would work because she knew that she hadn't any other magic to work on her behalf, short of casting herself overboard to drown. Luckily, Wilde immediately dropped his impetuity and readopted his normal debonair.

"Of course," he said, and Elizabeth inhaled in silent gratefulness. "You've probably never been aboard a ship before."

Elizabeth nodded fervently.

"I've been in Port Royal all my life," she swore, carrying the story further. "I've never been ... wealthy enough ... to afford a trip aboard a sailing vessel of any kind beside the simple rowboat that belonged to - " Elizabeth stopped. She had been about to say, "- my husband," but was afraid that it might take Wilde's mind off of her pretended illness. There was a ghost of a smile playing about his lips as he watched her, but to her relief he hadn't even noticed her abnormal pause.

"I daresay you'll find my ship to be quite different than a rowboat, madame," he said proudly. "I will permit you to return below deck, and back to your berth - but only on one condition."

"Yes" asked Elizabeth breathlessly.

Wilde looked her straight into her eyes.

"You must join me for dinner," he bargained softly. Before she could reply he cut her off. "That's not really a proposal, Mrs. Turner. It's a command."

Elizabeth nodded as quickly as she dared. Behind Wilde, Derk had appeared and stood waiting to take her away.

"You will be escorted to my table at the proper time," Wilde continued. He reached over and gently took the hand that she unconsciously offerred him.

"Until tonight," he said, bending over to kiss the back of her palm. Elizabeth averted her eyes and hastened away down the steps and into the cabin to her berth. It wasn't until Derk had locked the door on her that she exhaled and realized that she had been holding her breath. Flinging herself on the bed in the corner, Elizabeth wept a little in despair. It all seemed so hopeless. At first she had dared to think that Will would come to her rescue, but he had no ship at his command. Not even her father had that luxury now that he had relinquished his gubnatorial duties. There wasn't anyone to help her now and it hit her like a rock to think that she might never see her family again.

The tears were falling fast now. Elizabeth struggled to wipe them away. How motherhood had weakened her, she thought. And how much would she give now just to be home again.

Wilde joined his first mate at the wheel where the latter was watching the coxswain on duty.

"Lower the sails, topgallant and foremast," the Captain ordered calmly, "I want us far out of British territory by nightfall." He paused to allow his orders to be shouted to the crew on the lower deck.

"Aye sir - we'll be nye out of reach o' the king before that," the First Mate promised with a cracked grin that displayed a partial row of tobacco-stained teeth. Wilde hissed at him to retreat which the First hastened to do, bowing his head a little lower before authority. Wilde looked back out into the distant sea ahead and pulled his hat down further in an effort to shield his eyes against the searing three o' clock sun that glistened above them.

"We'll reach Tortuga nye midnight," he said leeringly.