I Can't Ever Leave You (I STIIIIILL hate this title...)

By Kitty

A/N: OH. MY. GGGGGOOOOODDDDD! It has been almost a fuh-reaking YEAR. AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! WTF, WTF, W T F! Ok, I've been much too MUCH too busy. I'm a junior in high school now. gulp No, wait...now I'm kind of a SENIOR. ACK! sigh This may be just kind of an excuse as to why it's been so long, but here's what we've been up to...

Summer 2004: I got to skip Honours Day and Prize Day in May at my school (YAY!) so I could go to my fraternal grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary (holy crud, 50 years, go Jim and Claudette!).

Fall 2004: Junior classes suck, especially chemistry and American Literature. I was in "Into the Woods" at Mount Michael (boys boarding school) and I played Cinderella. I made some new friends, caught up with some old friends, and one of the old friends is now my boyfriend, who'd a-thunk it...? Giselle But, but...the oldness! smack but with a giggle Silly wench! He's not really a Mysterious Old Man, though when first he appears he does seem mysterious, delirious, deleterious...

Winter 2004: Awesome Christmas, new video editing software yay! Still with my new beau. Had my second annual New Year's Eve Party, t'was kick-ass.

Spring 2005: Blech, more school. Was in "You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown" as Sally (his neurotic 5-year-old blonde sister, I had to wear a wig...) Uuum, decided that my religious affiliation, if someone forces me to label my spiritual beliefs, was basically Liberal Quaker, lol, don't ask, and don't confuse Quakers with Amish, completely different. Had one too many times where I would get behind in either chemistry or American Literature and get overwhelmed. Worked on trailers for "WICKED: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West", "Echoed Lullaby", "LaMasqueDuMinet the CheshireKat", and "The End...And Then Some" presented by my amateur film company OverDramatic Productions (didn't get 'em finished in time for the film festival... sneaky glance The festival? The festival! I wish to go to the festival! Heehee, sorry couldn't help it!).

Beginning of Summer 2005: Took my finals, blah, I hate 'em, I hate 'em, I HATE 'em! I think I did ok though, and my grades shouldn't be horrible. As long as I have no Ds I'll still be alive when me mum receives my report card, heh heh heh. Made a new friend, Alex, he be crazy cool, go see mah shanga (xanga) at and find out more about him, and me, and my terribly amusing daily ramblings. Saw "12 Monkeys" at my new friend Dan's house (well, technically he's Tim's—my boyfriend—friend, but now he's kinda my friend too. Dan says I'm tolerable, which, coming from him, is a compliment, since I'm a 3 and he's a 4. ; Don't ask, go look up enneagrams...) AND I started working on my PotC fic again!

But I have the WORST case of writer's block I have ever had! silence... For those of you who are wondering where my darling little Eric is: yes, he is still my Muse; NO, he cannot be here today on account of my reconsideration of his worthiness for the title of Muse!

Reviews: 129!

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OK, enough ROTA (Ramblings Of The Author). ONTO THE STORY!

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Lela finally walked into her cabin, quietly opening and closing the door. She took a quick look at her bed and there was Jack, still asleep and in one of his 'fitful slumberings', just as she had said the day before. He was sprawled out on the bed, occasionally tossing, and quietly snoring. Lela smiled and then tiptoed to her armoire and pulled out a chemise, a loose pair of bloomers, a white collared shirt with ¾ length sleeves and laced up in the back, a tight-fitting pair of brown trousers, and a long purple scarf embroidered with Indian patterns and designs for her hair. She had to be very quiet since her armoire was right next to her bed, and Jack was lying there.

Gathering her clothes in her arms, Lela crept to the other corner of the room and slipped behind the standing screen. With a little manoeuvring, she was able to get out of her tattered garments. Lela threw them to the side and continued to change into her underclothes. But she still hadn't noticed that her scarf wasn't there...

Jack was in darkness, utter black darkness. He didn't know if he was awake and just hadn't opened his eyes, awake and blind, or half-dead and drowning in a tar pit. Since he was pretty positive he was still breathing, the pirate doubted he was drowning in tar. There had been many times where people had told him that one day he would drink himself half-blind; Jack had been chugging rum on a daily basis since he was 12 and if that hadn't made him half-blind, then he certainly couldn't be completely blind now. So then he was awake...or at least, he was in that odd place between full consciousness and dreaming where everything seemed hazy and sluggish.

It was only when he heard a drawer open and close beside his head that he began to stir. When his drooping eyelids finally, lethargically opened, he slung his weary head to the side and looked. Nothing. There was no one there, just a tall dark wood armoire. Disappointed from being roused from sleep when there wasn't something (or someone) to look at, Jack rolled his head back to its original resting place.

Just then he heard something drop on the ground. His bloodshot eyes snapped open and he whipped his head in the direction of the noise. Nothing. I'm sure I heard something. It hadn't been a loud sound, not like something completely solid that hit the wooden floor. It was softer, more muffled, like a piece of cloth. As he began to drift back to sleep, he heard the sound again. This time, Jack scrambled up, turning his head repeatedly, his braids flying all about his face.

Nothing, nothing, fucking bloody NOTHING.

Then he happened to look down and see some pieces of clothing there. It was then that Jack began to feel rather irritated with himself. If something had dropped onto the ground, why would it be in mid-air where he had been looking? Any further attempts to fall asleep again were obviously futile so the groggy captain quietly got up from his captor's bed. At that moment when he began to softly tread across the floor he suddenly remembered where he was and whose ship he was on.

Jack's mind slowly replayed bits and pieces of the previous night: their playful brawls, their constant arguments and childish banter, Lela decided to make him sleep alone in her bed while she slept in the brig. That was entirely unfair, by the way! Jack knelt on the ground and began to examine the mysterious piece of clothing. Those few random lit'ul kisses, and I mean, come OFF it, we were wrestling on her bed for heaven sake, and then she decides that we need to sleep separately!

His fingers grasped a corner of the fabric and before further inspection, he sighed with renewed disappointment and the need for her to be close. The room looks like it's of her; evey'fthing, the décor, the walls, the ceiling, the floor! It's all her. And the bed... Jack sighed again as his eyes slid closed and the reminisces of sleeping there. Her bed smells like her, he thought. Dusky, sweet, heady...like the scent of...madness...and wilting flowers in an opium den.Jack's skin tingled as it too remembered the warmth and comfort and soothing softness of that divine divan. The bed...feels like her. It was like evey'fthing about her stayed there when she left an impression on that bed. Intoxicating scent, smooth skin, soft lips, silky hair, brilliant eyes, taunting and teasing me, playing with me, tempting me, seducing me...

As it so often seemed to happen, Jack's little reverie was interrupted. The offender this time was a boot that hit the floor. He apprehensively looked down at the black leather shoe, the square toe and the height of the thick wedge heel making his shins suddenly hurt. Then Jack saw the dressing screen in front of him wobble. It had a dark cherry wood frame, and fierce wild cats, similar to the ones adorning the outside door, were painted on the translucent tan rice paper. There came a thump sound from behind the screen and then a hissing gasping groan from a female voice, followed by a series of quietly screamed curses that made even the loose-tongued Jack raise an eyebrow. He was momentarily distracted by the hand that reached around the right side of the panels to steady it, when he saw another black item fly up over the top of the screen. He saw it approaching him too late.

With a sharp smack the object collided with Jack's forehead and the pirate squeezed his eyes and mouth shut, desperately trying to not howl with pain. He swung his arms around, clenching his fists and tightening the joints in his fingers, and his mouth opened and closed with silent pleas and swears. After he had finally calmed down and he had sufficiently finished his histrionic dance of pain, Jack closed his eyes, stretched his hands out before him, and softly and shakily sighed in an effort to compose himself. Looking down, he saw what had hit him: the other boot's mate. He gave a sly smile towards the screen. I don't think she knows I'm awake... Jack looked down again to the pile of clothing that had accumulated before she accidentally—She's not doing it on purpose, right?—threw her belt at him. He picked up the shirt once more for scrutiny. It was Lela's, of course, the one she had been wearing yesterday. The one that she wouldn't have been wearing had it been up to me. He rolled his eyes and mentally kicked himself. Stop that, ye great idiot!

Jack brought the blouse closer to his face and found something...interesting. His brow furrowed and he ran his tanned fingers over the irregularities in the fabric. The shirt was snagged and torn in places. It looked as though several blades or something had slashed through it repeatedly. Jack worriedly looked up at the silhouette of the woman behind the screen but shook his head. Last night she told me not to go after her, under any circumstances what-so-evah. Jack's forehead creased even more. She obviously had a reason for bein' so serious about that. It'll kill me not to know right this second, but... He quietly set the shredded top on the floor and stood up. I don'want to push her away no more, or do somefthing that'll make her push me away. Jack rubbed his eyes and began to softly tread closer to the dressing screen. And hell if I ain't completely fuckin' whipped by ye, ya crazy wench.He smiled as he carefully peaked around the corner on the left of the frame. Hope ye didn't hear that, luv.

Lela had her back to him with her bare arms out in front of her. She was spreading a creamy aromatic salve over her arms, shoulders, hands, and fingers, occasionally making tiny gasps as if the ointment stung her skin. To Jack's left by the wall there was a tall wooden hat stand of sorts where a decorative dark violet scarf hung upon a peg. Hearing a louder whimper and seeing a cringe run through the woman, Jack felt that nagging prickle in his mind that whined at him to throw a barrage of questions at Lela, but he pushed those thoughts aside. His glance drifted back to the stand and he eyed the long piece of wine-coloured silk; his trademark cheeky grin slid through his lips. He had something in mind that would be more fun that interrogating her.

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Sssss-aagghh! Good fuckin' lord, this hurts! Lela winced as the gooey balm seeped into her skin. Oooh, it stings, it stings, it stings. Sometimes I wonder if the pain I go through to heal is worth the healing I go through just for more pain. Her finger grazed an acutely tender spot, making her tremble and cry out softly. She sighed and snapped the earthenware lid shut upon the attached jar. I don't care if it's supposed to help with healing, this is plenty fine and good for now. Lela set the container on the small table in front of her and blew on her hands to try and cool the flames.

She looked down to see her languid progress of getting dressed. Her legs had been rubbed with ointment and bandaged but were now covered by loose black trousers. It would probably be hot, but long pants would ensure that few to no questions would be asked about her injured state. Lela's ribs were lightly bruised but again, her wounds would be covered by a long slack shirt. At the moment her top half was only concealed by a small pale cream chemise that hugged her skin with a welcome cool silkiness. Damn. Forgot to get a new shirt. I'll get it in a minute. Now where is my...?

Lela reached back to the stand next to the wall to get her headscarf to keep the majority of her hair out of her face. Confused at not feeling the scarf's silky touch skim across her fingers, she looked over her shoulder. It wasn't hanging on its peg. She fully turned around and took a small step forward. There was nothing on the stand or on the floor beneath it. However there seemed to be something in front of the screen to her left. Lela turned her head slightly, suspicion dancing in her eyes.

Taking two quiet paces forward, she whisked her head around to peruse the other side. Nothing. "Hmm...?" she quietly murmured. "I coulda sworn..." She shook her head and stepped back to lean on one foot. Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes and surveyed her apartment. To her right, the main doors were shut. Her dark and weathered cap sat upon her sea chest. The drawers in her desk were closed and no papers seemed to be out of place on the countertop. As Lela questioningly bit her bottom lip and she wondered was seemed incongruous, she suddenly realised the strangeness she felt wasn't because something had been moved or because a door was ajar. Somefthing's...missing...

Before she had any more time to ponder, Lela felt an arm encircle her bare waist and then a hand brushing back her long black hair. She fleetingly assumed that the arm and hand belonged to an attacker, and she was about to fling him over her shoulder when a pair of moistened lips branded the side of her neck with a scorching kiss, and a strong scent washed over her. Her nostrils were filled with the exhilarating odour of alcohol, it travelled back into her mouth where her taste buds sparked with the sensation of tasting salt and spices, and it finally whispered down her throat like a crisp cool wind. Her eyes flickered half-closed and she inhaled erratically, partially because of the intensely cold skin that the burning lips had drawn away from, but mostly because Lela wanted to take in more of that enlivening scent and presence of the man behind her.

Jack lifted the silken scarf to his captor's hair, purposefully letting it sweep up against her arm and over the skin of her exposed midriff. Another shudder ran through the woman in front of him but it was obvious it wasn't from fear. Lightly throwing one end over her head, he let it settle onto her hair, and pulled the two ends of cloth through each other and tied it. The woman's head tilted back a little, as if she had lost control of it, and Jack, smiling wryly, slid his hand once more onto her stomach. After only a moment's hesitation, he even dared to take her left hand in his own and bring it up to cradle the side of his head.

Lela reached back further of her own accord and pressed her palm against the pirate's braided hair, leaned further in his embrace, and silently implored him to hold her tighter. Jack let out the breath he had been holding and felt as though a great boulder had just been moved from his chest. He grasped her more forcefully and he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. His surrender may have been weak and suicidal, but he quite honestly didn't give a damn. At that moment it looked as if he had a choice: either love her so much it hurt, alone; or love her so much it hurt, with her, and have her love him so much it hurt. Jack rested his head in her hair after eloquently placing a prolonged firm kiss on Lela's temple and deeply sighing at the same time.

The second option was the only option. Why can't I leave ya, luv? I can't evuh leave you.

A few minutes later, Lela finally broke the silence, comfortable though it was. "Jack," she whispered hesitantly, "I'm sorry about last night." She hung her head and Jack felt the rest of her droop a little. "I didn't mean to be so secretive. I mean, I suppose I meant to, but it was only because I felt I had to, but I just—." Jack's fingertips cut her off as they rushed to her mouth to quiet her as they had many times many years ago.

"Hush, girl," he murmured, and he smiled. "Don't worry about it, Elley. There's obviously a lot a'fthings wha's happened since last we were togevvuh." Jack gently flicked her nose. "Ye nevvuh were too ready to give up good secrets, I don'spect ye to be that way now."

Lela slowly grinned, but she tried once more to get out the truth of things. "But are you sure you don't want me to tell—?" Once again, she was interrupted, only this time Jack gave her a quick turn and stopped her with a kiss. She made a noise of surprise but eventually began to giggle.

Jack shook his head. "Silly girl, listen to me more often! You don't have to go into all of the details now, s'all right, I don'wan ya to be angry wiv me any more. But..." He cupped Lela's chin and looked in her eyes with an almost uncharacteristic seriousness. "Promise...that you'll tell me...sooner or later?" But of course his playfulness crept into his most significant of requests. "Preferably sooner? Eventually, at least? Before I die, for gods sakes!" Lela couldn't help laughing despite her efforts to take his entreaty seriously.

"Yes, yes, all right, all right!" She continued to giggle, feeling like the two were joking together as children back in Sleego. She reached up to lay the back of her hand against Jack's rough cheek and looked at him with understanding and sincerity. "Don't worry, Jack. I promise to tell you...ev'eyfthing. Soon." A mischievous childlike grin suddenly grew on her face, replacing the mature adult mouth. "But, if you want me to tell you sooner..." Lela gazed up at him with a look that screamed of wickedness. "There are two fthings you can do for me..." Jack lewd mind sprang to attention as he wondered what she would ask of him. "First..." The fingers on her right hand drew invisible lines from Jack's cheek to his lips. She smiled impishly. "Call me 'Elley' again." Her leer softened. "I miss that..."

Although he was mildly disappointed in the first of her terms of the accelerated promise, Jack was also intrigued by her still childish nature. "All right then. What is the second thing ole Jack can do for you...Elley?" As if reading his mind and granting his wish, Lela lightly pushed her captive into the wall and leaned closely against him.

"Second..." she murmured as she placed one palm against Jack's beating heart. "Kiss me again," she whispered, her breath tantalising the sensitive skin of Jack's ear. "I miss that too..."

Silent for a moment, Jack turned his head, making his lips collide with Lela's own ear. He softly said, "I've missed calling you 'Elley,' luv..." His soft words became more hushed and turned into a rough whisper. "As for kissing you..." Jack smoothly turned the tables; Lela was now pinned to the wall by Jack, the captor becoming the captive. "Well...it's been far too long, Elle..."

Without another word Jack brought Lela's face forward and slowly kissed her. It hadn't turned out quite like Lela had planned, but... She took one more appreciative glance of the tanned skin, the heavy-lidded bronze eyes, and the wild hair of her beloved, before her own eyes slipped closed. No, she thought. This is better.

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A/N: I'm sosososoSOso sorry it's taken so long! To my DASH girlies who read, thank you for not abandoning me or ICELY. To all the FFN readers who have just been keeping an eye on this, thank you too! I really love this story, I love writing it, reading it over again, and then reading your reviews. I don't want it to fall into the Pit of Abandoned and Unfinished Stories, so please know that I am working fervently to dispel this accursèd WRITER'S BLOCK.

ERIC: Dun dun DUUUN!

Oh, dear...

ERIC: I'm baaa-aaaaack!

Dundun DUUUUUN!

ERIC: Hey! That's my line!

Dundundun...teeheehee...

Hey does anyone know why we can't have the "SHIFT-6" and "squiggly-symbol-next-to-the-1!-key" symbols anymore!

Drink and be merry and bed many-a-fair lad! (Er, y'know...lass...whate're floats yer boat...)

Fare thee well, safe journeys, and I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye! (Really, I will! Or the mental institution, I'm not exactly sure...)

Love,

kitty--Ibea Female Pirate, Savvy?