Bwa ha! UPDATE!

I don't think any of you can realize how nice it is to wake up wrapped up in the man you love's arms when you hadn't been able to do that in over three months. You seem to appreciate things more, when something like that happens.

Delighted that I had the solid, warm body back in the bed, which had always seemed, to me, too big for just me, I just snuggled closer to Jack, breathing deep of that musky, heady scent he had. I suppose that was just the scent of salt water, tar, rum and an unwashed body, but somehow, when it was Jack, it just made me feel comfortable and safe.

Jack's fingers started carding through my hair, which seemed to be the way he woke me up every morning, over these last two months since that one fateful day in which I had snuck off the ship. In case you're wondering, we still hadn't slept together. We had, however, had a serious discussion about it that night, over rum, and had come to the conclusion that we were going to wait. A little while, anyway. Jack seemed... content, I suppose, if nothing else. I had honestly thought that this issue was going to be addressed sometime before now, because, quite honestly? Two months were we slept in the same bed, yet never went any further than first base? ((My goodness, that phrase made me sound like my mother, didn't it!)) I mean, we are talking about Captain Jack Sparrow here. I had thought that he at least would try to get me to change my mind.

"We're setting ashore this evening," Jack said quietly, now twisting a random curl around his finger. "Tortuga. Ye coming along?"

"Actually," I frowned, thinking. "I was thinking that I might investigate a few of the shops, see if I can't get a new pair of boots. The soles are peeling right off on mine."

"Hmm." Jack suddenly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and began rummaging on the floor for his clothes. Sometime over the last two months - I'm not sure when, exactly - we had started sleeping in nothing but our strict undergarments. In Jack's case, that meant his pants, because evidently, he didn't wear anything under those delightedly well fitted blue pants. In my case, that meant, of course, that I wore my green pants, and half of a woman's shift I had hacked the skirt off of. It made a nice tank top, to be honest, albeit one with lacy edges and lacing up the front. It was comfortable.

"Jack?" I asked, frowning at his lack of response. This wasn't like Jack. I mean, Jack, quiet?

"Sounds fine," he nodded, then turned, and dipped his head to kiss me, lightly. "See ye on deck, luv."

"Right," I nodded once, still frowning. Something was up with Jack. He was weirdly distant and removed. What in the world was wrong with him?

Probably ten minutes later, I was pulling on the rigging, lashing the rope tight to where it belonged. It had come loose, again, and I was getting sick and tired of trying to fix the same problem over and over.

"Still comin' loose?" a voice beside me said, and I glanced up from the rope to see AnaMaria leaning over me.

"Aye," I muttered, tugging a little harder on the rope. "There's something else coming loose on this ship too. Jack's acting daft."

"More daft than usual?" AnaMaria pointed out with a quirked eyebrow. "This be Captain Jack Sparrow of which ye speak."

"I know," I grumbled, tightening the rope in place with a well placed thunk of my peeling boot heel. "But I'm used to him being daft. But not like this. He barely spoke to me this morning, he seems to be avoiding talking to me altogether."

"Well, ye still haven't let him 'ave his wicked ways wit' ye yet. We'd all know, if ye had." AnaMaria smirked, arms crossed.

I groaned, and dropped my head into my hands. "Everything comes back to fornication with that man!" I growled, then turned and without hesitation, punched the mast. Sure, it should have hurt like hell, but I had the distinct advantage of not having enough nerve endings in that and, so I couldn't very well feel it, now could I? "I told him, we didn't have to wait... but he hasn't said anything!"

"He still thinks yer too fine fer this life," Gibbs said suddenly, making me jump. I had no idea the man had been standing there.

"Wind in the sails!" Cotton's parrot chimed in, as the mute man looked at us with that same indecipherable expression he always had. "Wind in the sails!"

I frowned, glaring past them towards the helm, where Jack stood, oblivious, humming to himself as he rocked back and forth at the wheel. "Too bloody fine, eh? Fine. If that's the way he'd like to play this game... it can be done." Spinning on my heel sharply, I looked back at AnaMaria, Gibbs, Cotton and his parrot. "Who wants to help me?"

"Christine!"

Christine threw her arms around Elizabeth, hugging the girl she had come to think of as a dear friend tightly.

"How was the voyage?" Elizabeth asked, smiling. "I know you did not manage to find your sister, but were you safe?"

"Oh, quite safe," Christine laughed. "How are you and Will?" she asked, beaming.

Elizabeth's already happy face lit up just a little more. "Never in my wildest dreams, Christine, could I have imagined how wonderful Will would be! I knew I loved him, but he is a great, fine man."

"I'm delighted to hear that," Christine smiled broadly, truly happy.

"We're getting married next month," Elizabeth added, pulling back to settle herself on one of the settees. "Will and I would be honoured if you would be my maid of honour."

Christine had to rein in her instinct to squeal with delight. "I would be honoured! But you have to return the honour, Elizabeth."

"How might I do that?" Elizabeth asked, frowning slightly, confused.

"Ah... is she about to ruin the surprise?" Governor Swann's voice interrupted, and he and Norrington entered the room, both smiling. "Elizabeth, I have just received some wonderful news about dear Christine."

"Oh?" Elizabeth looked surprised. "What might that be?"

Norrington beamed, walking up to gently lay a hand on Christine's shoulder. "Miss Christine Morgan and I are going to be wed."

There was a moment of silence, then Elizabeth's eyes absolutely lit up, and she reached forward to hug Christine again. "Congratulations, Christine! My greatest congratulations to you! This is happy news indeed, I must inform Will!"

"There is much to plan," Governor Swann beamed, looking quite pleased. Two weddings coming soon in short order! "Perhaps you girls would like to discuss everything while I confer with the Commodore?"

"Of course," Elizabeth beamed, then took Christine's hand, and nearly pulled her from the room. "Christine, we must speak to Mother Parker. She will want to hear all about it!"

I had a hunch.

I know what you're thinking, big deal, Heather has a hunch. Call in the bloody riot police. But that's not the point - the point is, that when I have a hunch - I'm usually right. And today, my hunch was more than probably right, I knew that it was. Because, call it woman's intuition, call it instinct, call it what you will, a woman just knows when her man is cheating on her. It's like a little voice, hissing, "Did you know?" and of course you know, because you're a woman, and you know things like this.

So I knew exactly what to expect when, new boots echoing satisfyingly on the rickety wooden steps, I stormed up to the upper level of The Faithful Bride. And wasn't that an ironic name?

Genevieve had been kind enough to point me in the right direction. And to my utter shock, Francis Parsons had been behind the counter with her, and had smiled at me, told me to have good luck, then went back to serving drinks.

What a strange, strange world I live in.

I paused for a moment outside the door of the room where Jack, Gibbs, Will and I had once stayed. Seven months ago, if you can believe that I had been in the Caribbean that long. Incredible.

Then, without knocking, and without bothering to check the lock - because I knew it was locked already - I reared back, and with all the strength in my legs, kicked the door.

It splintered a little, letting out a sickening crunch, and there were only slightly muffled cries of horror and yelps inside. Without waiting, I kicked the door again, and again, and again, until finally it splintered it, finally giving up. One bodily hit with my shoulder, and the door caved halfway in, letting me easily kick it the rest of the way in and step inside the room.

Jack was standing beside the bed, hair a worse mess than usual, wearing only his pants, and even then, they looked exactly like they'd just been pulled on in the last ten seconds. Which, of course, they had been. He was, I am pleased to say, quite red in the face. Beside him in the bed, was Giselle - one of Jack's old favourites, of course - wearing nothing but the sheet she had pulled up in a vain attempt to retain her modesty. That woman has no modesty left, everyone in Tortuga knew about her lack of it. Everything about it.

"Ah... Hellcat, luv..." Jack said, stepping forward. "I can explain, I can."

I just held up my hands. "Don't you dare go giving me your excuses, Jack Sparrow. But if you don't gather your clothing in the next three seconds, I will drag you back to the Pearl myself, and I won't let you get dressed. You are in for it, Sparrow."

Jack hesitated, weighing his options.

"Sparrow," I hissed, eyes narrowed. "You have been caught red handed with the village bicycle." Seeing their blank faces, I hissed a little more vindictively, "The village slut, Sparrow. There isn't a person in town who hasn't screwed that. Now, unless you really want to loose your most valuable booty - being your God given, precious family jewels... you'll be coming along now, won't you, Jack!"

Jack let out a slightly startled sound, snatched his hat and plunked it on his head, shoved his foot in one boot, then half hopped into the other as he followed me out of the room, leaving a spluttering, furious Giselle behind.

I didn't even turn around to see if he was following me.

Because I already knew that he was.

Oh, the wonders of being a woman.

I knew full well that everyone was staring at us - one furious, scorned, hellfire fulled pirate woman storming down the street with one hand tightly gripping the hilt of her sword. And behind her, the most infamous pirate captain on the seven seas, half naked, with only his pants, boots, hat, sword and pistol. Apparently, he'd grabbed his gun belt before fleeing the room.

And yet... I couldn't bring myself to care about that.

The plan was working its way over and over in my brain, making sure that I had every detail right.

And thus far... everything was going to the letter.

I stormed up onto the deck of the Pearl, and as we'd all agreed, the rest of the crew was already there, on deck, watching. Waiting. A moment later, Jack stomped up behind me, then stopped, swaying a little in that odd way he does when he say the whole crew there. "Now... what's going on here?"

"Draw anchor, Mr. Gibbs," I said, then turned to look at the rest of the crew. "Hop to it, ye scurvy dogs! Look lively, now!"

"Now, what are ye doing?" Jack sounded a little put out. "Ordering my crew around, are ye?"

Spinning on my heel again, I stalked up to Jack, and jabbed my finger in his chest.

Mmm... rock hard, tanned, muscled chest... sweaty from the heat and the quick march over... okay. Heather, stop getting distracted. We're not just doing this for the heck of it so that I can fondle Jack's chest. That comes later.

"You made a very poor decision, Captain," I growled. "A very bad decision that you promised that you wouldn't make. You told me we were going to talk about this. And still," I shook my head. "Such a foolish decision, Jack. Now I have no choice."

The man gave me his delightfully adorable confused expression again. "Er... luv... what are ye intending?"

AnaMaria stepped forward, hands on her hips. "Captain... you owe me a ship. Which makes me a genuine pirate captain, got that?"

"Er... yes?" Jack said slowly, still horribly confused, now looking back and forth between myself and AnaMaria, almost swaying on his feet as he did so.

"Which means, as a pirate captain, she has every right and every power to perform pirate code binding marriages," I said, arms crossed over my chest as I watched him. "Didn't mean to trick you into this, Jack, but we're getting married." I reached into my vest pocket, and withdrew two gold rings, both very heavy, and with large black stones in them. "I even stole us the rings, Jack."

"What?" Jack squeaked.

"You marrying me, or do I need to get the sword out?" I asked, grinning fiercely at him. "I wouldn't have, Jack, but you really should have known better than to cross the daughter of Captain Morgan, Jack. It's rings, or the sword gets personal with your personal bits."

One of Jack's hands strayed lower, as though he could protect his 'personal bits', then he suddenly shrugged expansively, grinning. "Why not? I love weddings! Break out the rum!"

A cheer went up from one of the various crew members, and I, smirking, turned to AnaMaria. "Make it quick, luv. I'm not risking his escape again."

There was laughter for that one, then AnaMaria crossed her arms, and looked at the two of us. "Captain Jack Sparrow. Do ye take this here Hellcat as your wife? Yer Missus Jack Sparrow?"

Jack threw an arm around my shoulder, and grinned. "Why the hell not?"

"And Hellcat Morgan," AnaMaria smirked. "Ye take this scurvy pirate dog as yer mister, yer husband?"

My smirk easily rivaled hers. "Hells yes."

"Then kiss the bride, ye bloody pirate," AnaMaria laughed.

And Jack did just so. I was quite happy with this turn of events, going so far as to jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck, letting him support my weight enough that we stayed at least temporarily upright.

"Get ye gone, ye scallywags!" someone laughed, and I was quite content to let that happen... as in, hopping back down, I turned, and dragged my Captain - and though the ceremony had been kind of scarily pathetic - my husband towards his - our - cabin.

Pushing him inside, I stepped in myself, before spinning, and leaning out, resting my hands on the doorknobs.

"No rest for the wicked!" I called cheerfully to the crew, who laughed and catcalled, then slammed the door shut.

I had more important things on my mind.

Of course, it should have occurred to me that I was not a great legendary seducer, and Captain Jack Sparrow was. Which was why it totally caught be off guard, that the moment the door was closed, I was back up against it with no preamble, Jack pressing me against the old wood as he plundered my mouth.

Groaning, I melted into the man's embrace, fully content to let the man finally, finally have his wicked way with me.

After all, I always swore that I would save myself for marriage.

And I was married.

This was good.

"When did you get this?" Jack asked, fingers tracing the pattern on my back. I suppose he hadn't expected me to have a tattoo spread completely over my back, of a black panther walking its sinuous way down my spine, red ink flames rising from its clawed paws.

"About a month ago," I said idly, head resting on my crossed arms, which rested on the pillow. "It's a hellcat, can't you tell?"

"Of course," Jack laughed, fingers trailing over the lines of the tattoo, making me shiver. "A hellcat. You are a pirate, luv."

"You were still doubting it?" I asked, eyebrows arched.

Jack chuckled, and leaned down, trailing kisses along the tattoo in place of his giners. "Never for a moment, luv. Never."

Whoot! Just an epilogue left, and that will be short!