Disclaimer: POTC does not belong to me.

Band of highly Intellectual Pirates

Chapter 4: Taken Captive

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"You can't do this to me! I am the Commodore!" Commodore Norrington screamed from the cell on the Explorer.

"Of course you are. Why would I capture you if you weren't?" Bram answered simply as he placed the keys to the cell in his pocket. "We don't usually take prisoners but we have to say that so far, it's been quite fun. Wouldn't you say so, Liam?"

Liam sighed and shrugged, putting away his sidearm.

"Who are you!" Commodore demanded, wrapping his fingers around the bars of the cell.

"Your men are safe, if you're interested to know." Liam announced as he took his leave.

"You shouldn't be complaining. The quarters you're locked up in really is luxurious. The cots even have clean sheets, I washed them myself." Abraham said. He took a step towards the commodore in the cell and smiled smugly. "Honestly, I really didn't expect taking you as prisoner would be so easy."

The commodore reached through the bars and grabbed Abraham's shirt in rage, he jerked him so hard that it nearly pulled all his buttons off. The top half of his shirt split open and it revealed a tattoo of a sparrow at the lower part of his neck and just below it was the mark of a pirate.

"Sparrow! Surely you are not a pirate too?" The Commodore exclaimed, releasing his shirt in shock.

"Well, thank you very much for ruining a perfectly good piece of clothing. Now I have to sew the buttons back on." Abraham said looking down at his exposed chest and made an upset face.

"Excuse me!"

"And yes, my name is Abraham Sparrow and yes, I am related to Jack Sparrow. He's my brother." Abraham announced, straightening out his shirt and edging away from the commodore.

The commodore stared hard at Abraham in disbelief. He could not believe that the man in front of him was actually a pirate and not just any pirate, he was Jack Sparrow's brother. But he couldn't bring himself to put the pieces together. This man could not possibly be... but if even he as the commodore was tricked, then what about other ships?

"You! You're that..that..." He stammered, lost for words.

"Pirate ship you were talking about earlier," Abraham finished for him.

"I still... I don't understand..." said the other man. He was starting to look very uneasy.

"You'll have a lot of time to ponder on this matter since you'll be stuck here until we reach New York." Abraham told him, walking towards the stairs that led to a separate room.

"New York? What's in New York! More plundering?" The commodore asked in an exasperated tone.

"No, we're not in need of money. We're really only pirates when necessary." The younger man said as he continued to walked.

"Ever thought of getting real employment?" The commodore asked almost mockingly.

This caused Abraham to stop dead in his tracks. He was silent for a moment as if he were deep in thought. Then, suddenly, he turned around and replied in a calm voice.

"I do have real employment. You think I earn a living from piracy? Don't be ridiculous. You and I both know what an awfully silly idea it is."

"Why have you taken me captive? You could have gotten away with this."

Again, Abraham was quiet. But not for long. He let a small smile break out on his face. A smile that teased the intelligence of the commodore.

"That's a good question." He said. "But I can't tell you why as of yet. Don't worry, no harm will be brought to you."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" The older man demanded.

"You have my word as a gentleman." Bram answered plainly as if he had used those words a million times before.

"You're no gentleman." The commodore sneered in an angered response, his grip tightening around the cell bars.

"Oh, I can assure you that I am as much of a gentleman as you are, Commodore. I am not every other pirate you have come across although, I'm sure you already know that." Said Abraham as he turned back to be on his way out. Before he closed the door behind him, he added mischievously.

"Afterall, how many other pirates have managed to take you as a prisoner?"

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The sky was cast over with a shade of mid-evening when Abraham left the cells for the dining room. He was late for dinner, which was something very rare, being late that is. He hoped the men didn't wait for him. When he arrived at the doors to the room, he was relieved to see that it was dark and that there was not a soul in sight.

He was about to make his way to the deck to check on the men when he realised that his shirt still needed mending. He took a left to his bedroom, hoping that Elizabeth would not be in it. But he doubt that she would be asleep that early. Afterall, it seemed to him that she had an annoying burst of energy which could take the heart of him.

Abraham knocked gently on the door to the room but there came no answer which left him to the conclusion that no one was in the room or that Elizabeth truly was an early bird when it came to sleeping. Slowly, he opened the door, trying not to make a sound because he was afraid of waking the girl up and causing a huge commotion.

To his surprise, he found that a candle had been lit and was still flickering in the room. It was by the bedside where Elizabeth lay, her back which faced him was bare but the rest of her body was covered by a blanket which she hugged tightly in her slumber. It was not in her nature to sleep without clothes on but Abraham had so courteously decided to deanchor the ship from the harbor while Elizabeth was still loading her luggage and it just so happened that it was her night gowns in that piece of baggage that was left behind.

Abraham closed his eyes in the already poorly lit room as he fumbled around the wardrobe, trying to grab another shirt. Finally he grabbed a shirt and was about to leave when he heard Elizabeth's voice.

"What are you doing here, Abraham?" She asked, almost inaudible.

The girl did not sound surprise nor did she sound offended that he had intruded her privacy and it seemed as though she had been awake the entire time he was in the room with her.

"I've come to take my change of shirt. That friend of yours, Norrington ripped the one I'm wearing." He told her, actually making an attempt to justify himself.

"Really?" She asked, raising as eyebrow.

Did they have some sort of fight, she wondered. She pushed her back up against the head board, holding the blanket close to her chest. She reached out one hand and said.

"Bring it here. I'll help you mend it."

"No thank you, I can manage. Besides, I don't want you to get up. Seeing as you are not dressed. You know better than to sleep stark naked on board a ship full of men."

"I'd have you to thank for that. I didn't get to load all my baggage and my nightgowns were all in the one left ashore." Elizabeth said, clearly pointing out that it was entirely the man's fault.

Even in the darkness, Elizabeth saw a tiny smile tug on his lips, half hidden by shadows. He still found it amusing, the way Elizabeth was shouting her heart out at him for being so inconsiderate on the day which led to Elizabeth's missing clothes.

"How convenient." He said.

She could not help but feel that Abraham did have a sense of humor contrary to the fact that he never broke into any grins, even if it was a little mean. He looked as if he wanted to laugh but he managed to keep his emotions well contained.

"Indeed. Now let me help you, I can do a pretty good job with this stitching business."

Abraham sighed because he couldn't help but admit that he was terrible at sewing. He couldn't even do a simple backstitch. He took off the shirt which needed mending and handed it to Elizabeth who had wrapped the blanket around her body. The girl noted that he was exceptionally well built even though he looked thin with his top on and his abdomen was lined with clearly defined muscles.

He then knelt down by the side of the bed where a little drawer was and dug out a miniature sewing kit with the basic needle and thread. When he did so, Elizabeth could see his back in the dim light of the room and it was full of scars.

Subconsciously, she stretched out her hand and brushed her fingers against the marks on his skin.

"Who could have done this?" She asked, her voice showing a hint of concern.

"It was an accident." Abraham answered. He quickly stood up and turned to face her so she couldn't see him back for too long. He sat down beside her on the bed and handed her the kit.

"This was no accident." She said, taking the kit from him.

"What does it matter? You can't change what has been done. They will never heal."

"Do they still hurt?" She asked, trying hard to poke the thread through the needle.

"Not as much as the ones in here." Abraham said, placing his hand on the left side of his chest. Yes, he thought, not a day goes by that I do not feel the pain.

Looking up at him, she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"I do not wish for your pity." He answered, almost coldly.

"I do not pity you. I could never pity you." Elizabeth replied relentlessly.

"Then you will not speak of what you have seen."

Elizabeth nodded as she started sticking the needle into his shirt. Her hand went in a systematic motion, up and down with the needle. Although Abraham blatantly ignored her most of the time, there were moments when she was oblivious to him and he would watch her from the corner of his eye. However, this time she knew he was there.

"You do not have to watch me, you know. I will give it back to you when I am finished." She said, blushing. She couldn't believe she was blushing because Abraham was staring at her. It's not like she cared what he thought of her.

Or did she?

"Elizabeth." He called in a soft voice.

When she looked up again, she found Abraham's face was just an inch away from hers and he whispered.

"Forgive me."

Then, he stole her breath away as his lips touched hers in a gentle kiss.

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End of chapter 4

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Plasmolysed Cell Membrane: Whaddya know! My review page is scarred by a certain spoilsport. Ah well, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Sorry for the incredibly long wait... holidays just make me so lazy ya know. Anyways, you know what to do-- read and review!