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Chapter 10- Closer

After giving orders to his crew, Jack returned to the stern, steering his ship without another word to Captain Moroney who seemed unsure of what to do with himself. Eyeing Paris for a short time as she smoothed out creases in her skirts, he finally meandered over to her. "I 'ave ye to thank do I?" Moroney asked twirling his wet, grey Captain's hat in his hands.

"I hoped you would have done the same for me," Paris said with a smile. "And besides, I should be thanking you."

"We'll call it square then?" Moroney asked, his eyes smiling kindly back at her.

Paris nodded in return, looking past him to where Jack was back in command of The Pearl, shooting orders off at his men. Tilting her head towards the Captain, Paris asked Moroney, "So what did Jack do this time?"

Turning to watch Jack at the helm, he replied, "We were s'posed to be working together to raid a town; my crew and his. We struck up a deal one evenin' in a tavern." He stopped spinning the hat in his hands as he continued wistfully, "Perhaps I shouldn't 'ave let the drink do the talkin', but by the time we got there, Jack had already been through and made off with the loot. Left me crew empty handed and me, red faced."

Paris frowned at her Captain's back then sighed. "That sounds like Jack."

"Aye," Moroney replied, "But the two of ye seem to get on alrigh'?"

He took his eyes from the helm to gaze at her. It was more a statement than a question, and Paris looked at him in surprise. "I guess," she said hesitantly, before adding, "But he has the frustrating ability of knowing how to annoy me."

Captain Moroney smiled, making his face appear years younger as a faraway look developed in his eyes. "Marienna thought the same abou' me," he told her.

Paris looked down at the deck awkwardly. 'Marienna'. She knew that he was speaking of the lady who he had lost. "Ye've caught the Captain's affections, then," he continued thoughtfully.

Paris stared back at him, bewildered. 'Affections?' Holding back a laugh, she said, "Captain Moroney, Jack's idea of affection is sleeping with wenches of The Faithful Bride."

He gave her a meaningful smile, making her feel as though he knew something that she didn't. "Ye'll be arriving at the Port in three days I 'eard," Captain Moroney said, swiftly changing the subject whilst looking out to sea.

Paris hadn't realised they were so close to their destination, and his reminder brought memories of the reason she was on The Black Pearl flooding back to her. "That soon?" she asked despondently.

"Aye," he said, giving her another unusually shrewd look. "Ye best make the most of it."

With that, he winked and walked away, leaving Paris mystified. She turned a thoughtful gaze upon Jack's figure at the helm once more, wondering at Captain Moroney's strange behaviour. She watched him open the broken compass to check the direction he was heading and then give wild hand gestures as he directed his crew.

Running a hand through her tangled hair, a sense of loss prematurely overwhelming her, Paris stared out to sea, lost in her own thoughts.

It was night before Paris spoke to Jack again. She had spent the day with Martinez, both filling each other in on the events of the day. As she entered his cabin, Paris found Jack sitting at his desk, a bottle of rum in hand and empty bottles splayed out on the table. "'Ello, love," he slurred pleasantly.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to have a sensible conversation with him, if any of their conversations had ever been sensible, Paris returned a smile upon his drunken state, saying, "I see you're entertaining yourself. I'll leave you to it then."

She made to leave when Jack held up hand. "Nay, why don't ye stay, love" he asked, stretching back in his chair.

Paris stopped in her tracks, hearing Captain Moroney's voice in her head; 'Ye best make the most of it' he had told her. Nodding, and deciding it might be amusing to stay for a short time, she sat down on Jack's bed, leaning back against the wall. "I was proud of you today," she told him.

Raising an interested eyebrow, Jack stood quite abruptly, holding out his hands to gather his balance. Biting her lower lip to keep from laughing, Paris stood too, placing a supporting arm around his. Jack leant heavily against Paris making both of them stagger back over to the bed. "Thankye, darlin'," he said sincerly lying back against the wall next to her. "Now, wha't were ye complimenting me on? Me good looks?"

Again, Paris stifled a laugh. "I was proud of the way you disregarded the code to save Captain Moroney's life," she told him.

" 'm not sure he deserved it, but the code is more like guidelines anyway," Jack replied, "Or so I've heard."

Wondering if Jack was drunk enough to consider what she was about to put forth, Paris began, "I've been thinking-"

She stopped when she saw Jack shaking his head, the beads in his dark hair jingling. "Oh no, love. He's not joining me crew," Jack cut her off.

Paris frowned slightly. "Why not?"

"He took you and me onesies captive. No' to mention the holes he blew in me ship," Jack complained, taking a large swig of the rum still in his hand. Paris saw that his bruised eye appeared to be paining him when he blinked, but he didn't comment on it. "Ye've been with me near to two months now an' ye still haven't told me anythin' 'bout yeself," he slurred, tactfully steering the conversation away from Captain Moroney.

"I didn't think you would care," Paris replied carelessly, then regretted it when Jack looked slightly hurt.

"But ye thought me cook would care?"

Her eyes widened. "Martinez told you about my family?" Paris asked in disbelief.

Jack grimaced and looked extremely guilty. "No' exactly," he admitted, "I may 'ave overheard ye tellin' 'im."

Paris frowned, but didn't look nearly as angry as what he had imagined her reaction to be. "And what of you? The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow? I have only heard tales from your crew," Paris said after a moments reflection.

"Ah!" Jack exclaimed, seeming to suddenly notice how close they were sitting together in the dark and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. " 'm glad ye asked..."

With that, he launched into a thousand stories about his grand adventures of rum, sea turtles, monkeys, treasure and women. Paris sat cross-legged on his bed and half wondered if any of what he said was true. After he showed her the bullet wounds in his chest, he kept her staunch attention.

"So ye see, love," Jack finally concluded, taking another swig of rum which he had been doing throughout telling his tales, "Ol' Jack's got 'imself outta many a situations."

"And I'm glad for it," Paris said enthusiaistically, putting a hand on his knee.

Jack glanced down at it, then, as if he had had a sudden thought, gestured to the bottles on his desk asking, "Rum?"

Paris shook her head, shifting uncomfortably in his arms. "Remember what happened last time, Jack?"

Even though he was anything but sober, Paris was certain he wouldn't forget something like that. "That's precisely me point, love!" Jack exclaimed, rum spilling over in his enthusiasm.

Leaning down, he placed the bottle on the floorboards, teetering dangerously close to falling off before sitting awkwardly back up. He resumed his efforts by placing an arm back around her. Paris made to laugh off his usual flirtatious attempts to woo her, but an unvoluntary tingle down her side stopped her. Looking into his deep eyes that were studying her face, Paris felt herself get lost in them. She could feel his warm breath on her face and she felt herself blush. 'This is not supposed to be happening,' she stubbornly reminded herself.

"What say you to one last kiss before your freedom? Fo' the 'naughty' pirate?" Jack asked referring to what Paris had called him the day they met.

He used his free hand to cup her chin, making her look up at him. Paris put her hands on his chest in protest as he leaned forward. "Don't you even think about it, Mr Sparrow," she warned him sardonically.

Jack grinned back at her. "Too late, darlin'," he said, "I already did."

Paris began to roll her eyes when Jack's lips found hers. It was only a short kiss; one that gave her a taste and reminder of their night back in Tortuga, and just enough to make her want more. "Jack..." she breathed against his lips, unwilling to accept how she felt and doubtful of his real feelings. "You're drunk."

"S'never stopped me before," Jack quipped.

He moved to find her mouth again, but as Paris began to turn her face away she saw him slump forward, the rum finally claiming him. She looked down at his head which was now resting firmly on her shoulder. "Goodnight, Jack," Paris whispered softly to him.

Author's Note: I apologise for this chapter being kinda slow, but I needed to establish and develop the relationships properly. I hope that it worked out alright since I had a bit of trouble writing it. But as long as you still enjoyed it, I'll be happy :)

The Future Mrs. Jack Sparrow- Hehe, I actually haven't seen the movie, but I have heard its good ;) And yep, he's dead! Yay! As always, thanks for reviewing :)

MISS-SOPHIA- Well, I hope this chapter answered your thoughts in the review ;) Really glad you like her name! It was actually a working name I was using, but then I got kinda attached to it, hehe :) Thankyou for reviewing:)