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Chapter 4- Cooking Up A Storm

The shuffling of papers and the opening and closing of drawers awoke Paris from her restless sleep on the uncomfortable floor. Wiping sleep from her eyes as she sat up, Paris glanced across the room. Jack was standing at his desk and appeared to be searching for something.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled sleepily at him.

Jack turned around, surprised to see she was awake. "Me compass," he told her sadly, "I've lost it."

A smile crept across her lips as she asked, "The one that doesn't work?"

Alone in the kitchen with Martinez, Paris had been told all about the eccentricities of Jack Sparrow. As she had displayed genuine interest, he had filled her in on some of the adventures they'd gotten themselves into; and the compass had come into play a far few times.

If Jack was surprised that she knew about his compass, he didn't show it. Instead, his face turned serious. "I'll 'ave ye know darlin', me compass does work. I don't always be needing to find north."

Paris' eyes continued to sparkle as she nodded back. Jack eyed her suspiciously, knowing she didn't believe a word he said. "Well are ye just gonna sit there and look pretty, or ye gonna 'elp me?" he asked her with frustration.

'He sounds just like my Boss back at the Tavern,' Paris thought to herself as she stood up. Every bone in her body felt stiff and sore as she began moving towards him. At the same time she began rubbing her back, Paris was pleased to see Jack was rubbing his neck. "I guess you didn't have a very good sleep last night either?" she teased him.

Leaning in close to her, Jack told her as if she didn't know, "It just so 'appened, a little girl took me bloody pillow."

Laughing, Paris began lifting up stray bits of paper and scrolls scattered across Jack's desk. How he could find anything, Paris wasn't sure. 'I guess that's why he can't find the compass,' she mused.

As Jack's hand brushed a large piece of paper, Paris caught sight of a square object. The compass was right underneath his nose and so Paris turned towards him, waiting to see if he would find it. Jack hands paused on the desk, and he faced her. "Wha't?" he questioned.

Biting the corner of her lip, Paris looked at his kohl-lined eyes with her own. "Nothing," she answered with laughter in her voice.

Jack looked her up and down, trying to determine the reason she was watching him. At last, his mind came to a conclusion. Giving her his most charming smile, he reached out and took her soft hand in his rough one. Frowning as though in deep thought, Jack told her, "Paris, love, ye look particularly stunning this mornin'."

Allowing him to pull her closer, so that their bodies nearly touched, Paris smiled sweetly up at him. Scooping the compass up in her free hand, Paris turned Jack's other hand around so the palm faced upwards. Tucking the compass safely into his hand, Paris stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Nice try, Mr Sparrow."

Patting the top of his hand sympathetically, she slipt past him and walked out the door without another word. Hoping to avoid the certain Captain for a while, Paris headed for the kitchen. Martinez greeted her with his usual cheery smile. "Ah 'ello there me dear gal. Up fo' some serious cookin' today?"

"Of course," she smiled back, heading towards the cupboards.

Most of the day was spent below deck once more. At times, Paris would forget the real reason she was onboard The Pearl. There was no going back to her life as a barmaid unless she wanted to forfeit her life. As though Martinez was reading her thoughts, he finally breached the topic that had not been spoken of since her arrival; her family.

"Don't ye ever miss 'em?" he asked her thoughtfully while stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. "Family, friends?"

Staring down as she continued chopping vegetables, Paris answered, "There isn't anybody back home for me. No family...or friends. I guess Jack did me a favour taking me away."

Paris forced a small laugh, but in reality, speaking of her life back on land only caused her pain. Martinez eyed her over his shoulder. "I'm sorry to 'ear that. To lose ye family so young."

Although Paris had wanted to brush past the topic, she realised it was much more difficult than she'd realised. "I have an older brother," she told him quietly, "Liam; but I haven't seen him for years. He wanted a different life than what my parents could give him."

"So he jus' up and left?"

Paris nodded. "We...didn't have much money. Sometimes my parents would go hungry so that me and my brother could eat. Liam dreamed of a better life. He wanted bigger and better things."

Putting down the spoon he had been stirring with, Martinez turned to face Paris as she continued her story, her mind returning to her childhood. "He left when I was twelve, he never told us where he was going, or what he was going to do. Not long after, my parents were caught stealing from a food stall."

Pain finally touched her voice as Paris concluded, "They passed away in their cell."

Her hazel eyes were downcast as Martinez moved over to her, taking her small hand in his. " 'm sorry to 'ear that me dear," he told her with genuine sympathy.

Paris shook her head, and gazed up into his kind face. "It's alright. It was years ago now. There's no point in dwelling on the past right?"

"Aye, but sometimes 'tis better to talk 'bout it."

Paris gave him a small smile. Martinez was so comfortable to be around; she almost felt she could tell him anything. Almost. "I'm fine, really," she replied when he returned another worried look upon her.

Suddenly, a bump to the side of the ship caused Paris to stumble forward. Martinez caught hold of her before she fell. Running a hand through her long black hair, she looked quizzically at him. "What was that?"

A loud crash of thunder answered her question, followed by another sway of the ship. As Paris held onto Martinez's elbow for balance, he told her quickly, "The kitchen is no place for ye during a storm and I don' want ya getting hurt. Go to Jack's cabin, you'll be safer there."

Nodding, Paris hurried up the wooden staircase which led up to the deck. Throwing open the door, she was greeted with a pitch black sky. Torrents of rain were pouring down, and lightning seared across the sky. Paris clung to the walls of the stairwell, afraid to move out into the swirling storm as Jack's men ran back and forth on the deck. Taking a deep breath, Paris dashed out from the doorway.

A few steps out of its safety, and she was soaking wet. Water cascaded down her face, and her hair clung to the back of her neck and her shoulders. The Pearl rocked dangerously on its side, and Paris underestimated how slippery the deck could be. Before she realised what was happening, she'd fallen on her side, and found herself sliding down the ship.

She hit the side walls hard. Resting shaking hands on the rail, Paris pulled herself up and stared out at the swirling black ocean. As her heart beat harder in her chest, she heard her name being shouted over the sound of the rain hitting the ship. Whirling around, but not daring to let go of the rail, Paris found Jack standing in the middle of the ship. His clothes were matted to him, and to her surprise, his tri-cornered hat still remained intact upon his head.

Another crackle of lightning followed by a roar of thunder, made Paris jump. Letting go of the rail, she ran as fast as she could towards him. Another wave crashed against the side of the ship, sending Paris hurtling towards the mast's pole. Instead of the pain she was sure would come, a pair of strong arms stopped her.

Glancing up through the hair that was stuck to her face, she found the Pirate Captain lying unconscious on the deck. In the process of helping Paris, Jack had hit his head against the pole himself. Unable to hold in a sharp intake of breath, Paris leant down, and placing her arms under his, began pulling him towards his cabin. The task was much harder than she had considered, as she tried to keep her balance and drag the lifeless form of Jack across the deck.

A young man emerged from the chaos that surrounded her. With his help, they lifted Jack into his cabin. As the door shut behind them, the sounds of the raging storm were subdued. "Thankyou," Paris said breathlessly to the young man who had helped her.

On closer viewing, she noticed that he had short, wavy brown hair, and sparkling blue eyes that seemed to crinkle up with silent laughter. "No problem, Miss," he said smiling at her, "But are ye alright?"

Still out of breath, Paris nodded back. Gesturing towards Jack, she told him, "But your Captain isn't."

"I've go' just the thing," he answered before dashing out of the cabin.

He was only gone a brief moment when he returned with a cloth and a small basin of water. "This should help."

Taking it from him, Paris looked back at him with concern, asking, "Who's steering the ship?"

"Gibbs," he replied with a handsome grin, "But I'd better ge' back out there. This storm doesn't seem to be easing up."

Dampening the cloth, Paris kneeled next to Jack who she had propped up against the side of the bed. Peeling back his red bandana, she stifled a giggle at the tan line that ran across his forehead. Running her fingers over the large red mark there, she could feel the bump that she was certain would leave a nasty bruise by the morning.

Pressing the wet cloth against his head, Paris sighed, and her eyes began to trail down towards Jack's face. Although his eyes were closed, she knew that they were a chocolate colour, and they always seemed to have a mischievousness hidden just beyond. His golden skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the room and his high cheekbones accentuated the features of his face. 'You're handsome Jack, I'll give you that much.'

Looking down at the two braids that hung down from his chin, Paris wondered humorously whether Jack had done it himself, or if someone else had. "Can' take yer eyes off me fine features, I see."

Blushing furiously, Paris glanced into Jack's smiling eyes before making a point of inspecting the bruise on his forehead. "That's a nasty lump, Mr Sparrow," she said, ignoring his cheeky smile as she continued to dab at the red mark.

Paris could feel Jack watching her, but she refused to look back at him. To gain her attention once more, he pulled her hand down from his face. "Yer good with yer hands," Jack said innocently inspecting them.

Prying her fingers from his, Paris quipped, "Surely not as good as you, Jack, from what I've heard."

Standing up, she tossed him the damp cloth and raked a hand through her wet hair. The storm was still raging outside, and as Paris turned around to leave the Pirate Captain to his own devices, another wave hit the side of the ship causing her to lose her balance once again. Her fall backwards was broken by Jack's legs, which had remained outstretched in front of him.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Jack gazed down as Paris lay across him trying to get her bearings. Swooping down towards her, and with his face inches from hers, he jested, "I knew ye were gonna fall for me, love."

Paris could feel Jack's warm breath on her face as he moved in closer to her. A hand slid up the outside of her thigh, stopping at the side of her waist. Her heart beat faster in her chest and she wondered fervently, 'He wouldn't- would he?'

From what she had heard, Paris knew that Jack was more than capable of such behaviour. Unable to move, Paris felt Jack's lips brush her own as his hand tightened on her side. The knock at the door couldn't have interrupted soon enough.

Giving her an apologetic look, Jack sat up, pulling her with him. Swaying slightly as he stood, he swaggered over to answer the door. "Ah Cap'n, I see ye alrigh' now," came a voice that Paris recognised as the young man's who had helped her earlier. "Just wanted to let ye know the storms blown over, but the crew be needin' ye orders on deck."

Sure enough, as they stared past him out the door, the warm, afternoon Caribbean sun was shining down. Nodding in understanding, Jack turned around to look at Paris who still sat quietly on the floor. "Maybe later, love," he told her sadly before leaving.

Paris gaped wide eyed at the spot Jack had been standing in. 'That man has no respect,' she thought furiously to herself. Standing up, she attempted to fix the material of her damp dress which clung to her legs, but to no avail. Sighing, Paris left the room and made for the stern, giving her time to contemplate life on a pirate ship while her clothes dried off in the sunshine.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed!

Queen.Bowie.Jack.Sparrow.Lover- I know excatly what you mean :) That's why I won't be rushing anything, hehehe. Thanks so much for the review!

The Future Mrs. Jack Sparrow- Hehehe, nah I'm not too worried about Mary Sue's or what not ;)' And I'm glad you like her! Thankyou for the review!