Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And the title for this chapter is a song by Eileen Ivers.

Chapter 22: Whiskey and Sangria

Jack continued to lay low, as Camille and Will grew closer by the day. Camille had forgotten how good it felt to open up to somebody, to form a friendship with an acquaintance, and to just plain laugh out loud at a story for the first time.

That night Will was recapping the capturing of The Interceptor, and it amused her quite a bit to hear about it. The particular tavern they were in happened to be filled with a variety of people, from whores to sailors, to some even wealthier upper class citizens. Camille kept her eye on Will so that he wouldn't touch anything containing alcohol, and only allowed herself a glass or two so that she could still maintain some type of control. Of course, Will took sips when Camille wasn't looking. But this time it wasn't to forget Elizabeth. The liveliness of the tavern had reminded him so much of the life he wanted to feel once again. Before long, he and Camille were dancing to violins and guitars, and any kind of other instrument that was being played loudly that evening.

She smiled and laughed, hearing the music play. She felt at home when she danced or when she sang. She'd never done this with Jack; the only time she had ever witnessed that man dancing had been in Port Celebros when he was in disguise. But he had never come dancing with her in taverns late at night. She could feel Will's grip tightening around her as he pulled her closer. He smiled as they spun around and clapped, tapping their boots on the floor and tables or chairs.

Most of the night went by in a blur, except the last song. It had a fast beat to it, and the ocarina sounded beautiful along with the guitars and fiddles. The music stopped, and went into another fast song when she felt Will's arms around her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. God, I shouldn't have had anything to drink, she thought. All the music had gotten her adrenaline pumping, and nights like these were the ones where she realized just how much she missed the touch of a man, and how desperate she felt at this moment. You can't. Not him, she told herself. But he was breathing on her neck.

She turned around and looked into his eyes. He was so close to her! And he was obviously thinking the same thing. This was really bad. And what was even worse; she could feel herself giving in and moving closer to him. So she did what any girl in her position would do. She kissed him passionately.

Once she did, all hope of any control over the situation was lost. He pressed her up against the wall, sliding his fingers up her skirts and down her legs. She moaned, wanting him so badly. She had to get her thoughts together before she realized that she was being led down a hallway to a room.

She kicked the door shut, and they both leapt on the bed as Will began ripping his shirt off. He was working on the top half of Camille's dress, and his tongue was halfway down her throat when she was able to push him off her slightly. "NO!" she cried. "No. No, Will, we can't do this," she said firmly.

He hovered over her for a second, with that bewildered look he was so good at getting on his face. Then he took his hands off her. "You're right," he said, slowly standing up. "Camille, I'm…so sorry," he said in a humiliated tone.

"It's all right, Will," she said, buttoning up her blouse. "It's as much my fault as it is yours." In another moment, she was completely composed again as she hopped off the bed and adjusted her boots.

Will still looked like he was mortified. He quickly got his shirt on, and straightened up his hair. "I-I don't know what came over me. I should have never come with you."

"Oh come now, you needed a night like this. I saw the look on your face, you were having the time of your life out there," Camille said, giving him a little nudge. She looked at him, smiling warmly. "We'll just keep this between us, okay? And no more alcohol. For either of us."

"Agreed. Shall we?" he asked, putting out his arm. She took it. "I must say Camille, you give me quite a bit of confidence when I'm around you."

"Will, you have plenty of confidence. It's just lying dormant for awhile. You can't expect it to stick around all the time," she assured him. "And don't get me wrong, I had a wonderful time."

He nodded. "It would have complicated things."

"Oh, yes. It would have complicated things very much. And you don't need that," she said kindly.

"You're right." He looked at her for the first time in those few minutes. "I don't think I would have regretted it, though."

She sighed. "Neither do I."

He kissed her once more on the lips. "Back to the Pearl?"

"Aye."

That night was a long one. She tried to forget it, but all she could think about was lying on the bed, wanting Will to take her dress off. She touched her lips, remembering what they felt like when connected with Will's. She sat on her bed, not sure how exactly to handle the situation. She had come off seeming to have great self control, but inside she was dying for sex.

She couldn't take it anymore. She thought she was going to explode. There was only one way to handle the situation.