Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

A/n: Yes, I admit it. I have altered the character of Jack Sparrow. He is still cunning and sly, but now he has a bit of a soft spot. I think you'll like it anyway, though.

Chapter 44: Betrayal in Paradise

She woke up, thinking it had all been some spectacular dream. She rolled over, and the rose was on her pillow next to where she had been sleeping. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, noticing that she was still wearing the clothes. She fixed her hair and made her bed, wondering how she was going to deal with the fact that she had gone crazy. There was no way that man last night had been real. Jack had danced, he had dressed up, and he had showed her a sunrise. This was no pirate. He had spoken gently to her and held her like he would never let go of her. And he was always looking at her adoringly. Not Jack. Not the man who'd captured her for a ransom.

The door opened, and she looked up. Jack made his way inside, closing it gently behind him. "Good morning, Miss Camille," he said suavely. He was still wearing the clothes, with the exception of the hat and coat. "I take it you slept well."

Oh my God, it had all been real. She tried to make some sort of acknowledgement, but she was just in too much shock.

Jack looked at her. "You all right, love?"

"Lock the door," she demanded.

Jack lifted his eyebrows, surprised at her tone. He did so immediately. When he turned around, Camille was standing inches from him. He thought she was going to slap him from the look in her eyes. But she grabbed him; grabbed his face, and kissed him. Not only kissed him, but jammed her tongue down his throat. And that was that. There were clothes flying everywhere shortly, and the rest is left to the reader's imagination.

She rolled over, resting her chin on his bare chest and looking at him. "I didn't think last night was real."

"Hm? Oh, it was very real. And so was the check for all of it," he said.

She laughed, and hovered over him for a moment before she kissed him. "Jack, thank you so much. Nobody has ever done that for me before," she said, stroking his dreadlocks.

He sat up, letting the covers fall away a bit. He pulled her close. And he looked very serious. "Camille darling, you must understand why I did all of this for you."

She sat on his lap, listening intently with her arms around him. "Yes, Jack?"

"I want you know…" he ran his hand through her hair once more. "I want you to know that you can trust me."

"Jack, of course I do."

"And someday you must forgive me for this."

"For what? Jack, what are you talking about?"

He stood up, searching through the pile of clothes. "Get dressed, darling."

But she just sat there. "But Jack-", she protested.

He simply looked at her, getting his shirt back on. "Please love, we haven't got much time."

She scampered to get her clothes on (her pirate outfit), still trying to pry the information from Jack. But he wouldn't say another thing, and he proceeded to pull out the chair from in front of the dresser. He motioned for her to sit down.

She looked at him. "Do you expect me to listen to you now?" she asked, feeling for the doorknob.

"It's locked from the outside," he informed her. "Now will you please just cooperate with me this one time?" he begged.

"Jack," she said, stepping up to him and pulling his collar. "What is going on?" she asked, enunciating each word clearly.

He pushed her down, sitting her on the chair. "Well I can't tell you that, because it wouldn't be the same."

"This makes no sense," she stated as he took her arm.

"It's me, love," he said, trying to hold it steady. "Savvy?"
"No!" she cried, standing up and pulling away from him. "No, it's not! Jack, I can't just trust you without knowing what's going on!"

"Look, I don't want to hurt you. Now sit down and stop squirming," he said, forcing her again to sit down and binding her hands behind the chair. Jack took the key out of his pocket and stuck it in hers. "You're going to want this as well." He put his finger to his lips. Camille went rigid as a knock sounded at the door.

"By the by," Jack said calmly. "I've had much better," he said, adjusting his belt as he looked into the mirror.

"You have not, you lying bastard!" she nearly shrieked as the door opened and five Hispanic-looking men came in. They approached her, lifting her out of the chair and dragging her outside. "Ah!" she cried. "No me toques! No me toques!"

Jack sighed heavily, sitting back down on the bed once they were gone. He felt like he was going to throw up for what he had just done. Turning Camille in? It was just wrong. Long John had been right, he was going soft. Reaching under his bed, he took the first bottle of rum and began chugging it.