A/N: I have received two reviews for the last chapter. Thank you to those two. This may be the last one I post until July due to my pending trip now in June. That is all.

Disclaimer: No, believe it or not, I still am not in proper ownership of Jack Sparrow, or any other part of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie (I don't want Will, anyway.) I am in the process of it though. I have well-paid attorneys working on the case as we speak! You'll see, I'll have my revenge, Disney! Evil laugh But, I do own Emma Whibley, so keep your dirty paws off her you mangy cads!

Chapter 5 - "I assure you this, love: Captain Jack Sparrow does not wear women's dresses."

Snapping out of her reverie and becoming aware of her position on his shoulder, Emma began to struggle in jack's grasp. They had just barely escaped the Royal Guards, and she was grateful that Jack had gotten her out when he left, but now she was also becoming aware of the various odd looks the two were receiving from the few people who occupied the street behind the Smithy.

"Jack, put me down! This is ridiculous!"

"Just stay still, woman! You can't very well run well in that dress and petticoats anyway, now can ye?"

Shocked that he would refer to her clothing to such a specific point, Emma then noticed just how close she was to the man. She rested face down with her abdomens folding over Jack's shoulder so that if she looked down she could see the strange view of his boots trampling the soil of fertile Jamaica. Jack's hand rested behind her thighs, assuring that his passenger would not fall as long as he was in charge of the ride. The odd looks Emma had gained as result to this, she noticed, were more of disapproval than actual curiosity, and she was sure that her name would soon be passed around to feed the town's hunger for gossip. Not that she cared, though – she barely liked anyone in Port Royal anyway.

After pressing the matter further, it soon became clear to Emma that there would be no negotiating this matter.

'Damn that Sparrow,' she thought bitterly. He was just as stubborn as she was, if not more.

It was not until the salty sea breeze fully invaded her nasal passages that Jack finally set Emma down.

"Finally! I thought I would never…"

Upon turning around, Emma gasped and was awed into silence, all thoughts and complaints being forgotten. In the water before her lay the grandest ship she had ever seen, it's black hull and full, fresh ebony sails creating a majestic and mythical air to the schooner. She was more beautiful than Emma had imagined all those times that she tried to envision Will on his quest to save Elizabeth. Rendered speechless, there was nothing left for Emma to do but gape.

Noticing Emma's awe at this precious ship, Jack smiled with the pride of a father who was showing off his newborn babe.

"And this, love, is the Black Pearl."

Emma released a breath that she had not been aware she had been holding, and chuckled lightly.

"She's beautiful, Jack…"

"Isn't she? Well, let's get going! Got some people you need to meet before we make way."

With the largeness of the Pearl, Emma found it amusing how very close to town Jack was able to bring her without being noticed. To the east of the island's capital was a small, natural cove. For some reason, fish did not find the inlet favorable, and therefore neither did anglers. The shoreline, too, was unfavorable to the primary settlers due to the jagged rocks that lined the coast. It was unpleasant scenery to them, and so they settled further west in the island where the beach was smoother, so the citizens bothered not with it. Neither did the navy. A thick forest of mangroves and palm trees in this uncultivated part of the island obstructed the view of the little anchorage where the Black Pearl was safely nestles in the tide.

"Listen up men! Gather 'round, I have some important news!"

The demanding voice of her new captain friend distracted Emma from her little muse. They were now aboard the Pirate sloop, having rowed there – or rather, Jack having rowed them there – in a small rowboat. Emma became suddenly aware of the Pearl's inhabitants, most bedraggled and menacing in appearance.

"This, here, is Miss Emma Whibley,"Jack continued speaking to his crew.

A small series of hoots and catcalls were made as Jack said this, causing Emma to unknowingly inch closer to Jack. He was her only possible savior at that moment in the unknown world of villainous buccaneers she had now entered.

Quickly with a wave of his arm, Jack silenced his unruly group of men.

"I'll have none of this while she is aboard my ship!" he growled. "Miss Whibley has agreed to join us in our little adventure, as my guest, and if I hear so much as one complaint, I swear on me grave that I'll keel-haul ev'ry last one of ye and find myself another crew! Understood?"

The wide-eyed crew erupted in a harmonious choir of "Aye, Cap'n"s – almost all had seen some keelhauling at some point and none wished to be on that side of the ship. Eventually, the men scattered at Jack's command, readying the ship to lift anchor as soon as Master Turner set foot on the pitch-black decks.

In the meantime, Jack introduced Emma to a few of the crewmembers, such as Davie Phillips, the Boatswain, and sometimes the Helmsman, who immediately designated himself Emma's guardian and protector in the case that "any of these sea-mongrels try ye." Also made known to her was Mr. Joshamee Gibbs, and older fellow who was Jack's first mate. He did not seem as enthusiastic to meet Emma as Davie, and simply looked from her to Jack, then scurried off mumbling about bad luck.

"Don't mind Gibbs," Jack said in reaction to Emma's perplexed features, "he's a bit…superstitious, ye might say."

Nodding slowly, Emma followed Jack down the stairs that led to the lower levels of the ship, where her tour of the Black Pearl would begin. Jack walked her through a series of levels, shoeing her both the gun deck and the sweeps. On the higher decks, she viewed the more common rooms such as the hold, the armory, the Galley, Kitchen, and crew's cabins, including that of the First Mate.

Finally, after what seemed about two hours, they walked across the deck, briefly taking the time to see the sunset, and reached a door at the end of a short, indoor corridor.

"…and this is the Captain's Quarters."

Jack swung open the door and ushered his newfound lady friend in as he had in all the other rooms. Looking around, Emma absorbed the details of the cabin. The dark paneled walls were like the pearl's deck, only not as black. A moderate desk sat in a corner of the room with a few hanging shelves in a right angle to it. A dresser stood to her right by the door with trinkets strewn across it. All the furniture was made of a rich, deep, cherry wood – unbeknownst to Jack that was Emma's favorite. Directly across from the entrance lay a large bed lined with fine, expensive-looking, silken sheets that were of a crimson red coloring. A nightstand stood on either side of the bed, one appropriately decorated with a half-emptied bottle of rum. To Emma's surprise, she found it quite organized for being the room of an infamous pirate.

"It's very nice, Jack – I see being Captain pays off." Emma smirked, though one thing was nagging in her mind.

"Jack? Well, I was just wondering…where do you intend for me to sleep?"

Jack turned his face down to stare at the floorboards, looking pensive as ever with his hand to his chin as he hummed to himself. He hadn't given it much though, really, and that was not a lie. He had just decided on a whim when he invited her along, but he wanted to look at least somewhat considerate!

"Well, you can sleep here," he stated nonchalantly, waving a hand around at the room.

Emma's face fell with disbelief. Was this truly a madman that stood before her? Did he honestly expect her to off-handedly share a room with him, a person she had only met hours before? And a man, no less?

"Mr. Sparrow," Emma laughed a bit nervously, "certainly you are jesting. Now in all seriousness…"

"In all seriousness, your options haven't changed much, Miss Whibley. It's either here in my room with me, or in a hammock with the crew. Personally, I find the bed much more comfortable," Jack issued with a smug smile.

Weighing her options, Emma shuddered inwardly at the idea of having to share a room with the motley looking crew she had recently met, and quickly reconsidered Jack's proposal. 'Elizabeth was right,' she thought. 'Jack can be despicable.'

"Well, considering my limited options in this situation, I suppose that there is no harm in staying here. After all, you have yet to give me a reason not to trust you…" she spoke with determination, though inside Emma was truly uncertain of her decision.

"Wonderful! It's set then. Listen, love, it's getting late and dear William should be coming aboard soon, so I must go and make sure that m'lady is being well attended to." Jack said with a series of various hand motions that dazed Emma.

"'Till then, you have free roam of the ship. The washroom," he said pointing out another door within the room "is at your disposal if you wish to bathe. I've already had my men bring in a basin of freshwater for you."

The mention of a bath brought Emma to another realization.

"Jack! What will I wear? I had no time to bring any sort of wardrobe! Oh, this is horrible," she muttered to herself.

"Ah, Miss Whibley, that brings me to my next point."

Motioning for her to follow, Jack walked across the room and opened the lid of a rather large chest, revealing several well-made dresses that Emma found quite to her delight.

"I'm guessing most should be about your size."

Jack's eyes again roamed her figure. The very sight of her sent such an increasing warmth to his nether regions that he and to bite down on his lower lip to refrain from taking her right then. She was gorgeous.

'Not now, Jacky boy! Remember, perseverance and charm – then you can have the girl.'

Luckily, Emma was too fascinated with the wardrobe before her to notice Jack's looks of longing. Raising an eyebrow, Emma jested with a hint of curiosity.

"Jack, is there something you haven't told me?"

"Are you implying that I secretly dress as a woman as a pastime?" Jack looking from Emma to the dresses, and then back, narrowing his eyes.

"You said it, not me," replied Emma mockingly. Placing a hand on her hip, she continued her minor investigation. "Besides, why else would a single man such as yourself have an array of ladies' clothing?"

"From special occasion, darling. They're what you might call…souvenirs," Jack answered with a knowing smile. "I assure you this, love: Captain Jack Sparrow Does not wear women's dresses."

Emma laughed at this as she pondered what event might have caused Jack to end up with so many outfits, before finally shoeing him out of the cabin so that she could bathe. Locking the door, she proceeded to strip in the washroom, and climbed in the large water-basin. Sometime mid-bath, she became aware of the ship's gentle rolling, and she sighed contentedly. They were on their way to the adventure she so yearned for. Freedom was finally hers.

Exiting the main corridor and walking onto the top-deck, Emma took note in how quickly night had fallen. She was wearing a dress that she found in Jack's Sea Chest that was similar to the one she had earlier been sporting. She had never been one for gaudy dresses, and found that she quite liked the simple yet elegant off-white dress she was now wearing. Hearing her name, Emma turned fully to find her good friend Will Turner approaching.

"Will! How are you doing? Did the Guards give you much trouble?"

"No," he replied shaking his head, "they searched the shop left and right and found no trace of Jack having been there, much to Norrington's disappointment."

"Good ridden!" Emma sneered. "And Elizabeth?"

"Well, it took some convincing, but I assured her we would be careful. By the look on your face, I can tell you like the Pearl."

"Oh, yes, the ship is marvelous!" Emma exclaimed with glee."

"Well, I'm happy you like her, as I am sure Jack is. So, where is it that you are staying?"

"Oh, right! I'm just staying in Jack's cabin. We agreed that it would be best if --"

"What?"

Will's last contribution to the conversation was one of shock and disbelief. How could Jack be so careless! Did he really think that Emma would…? Oh, sometimes that Sparrow just made him mad!

"Will, I wouldn't worry if I were you --"

As Will stormed off towards the helm, Emma's attempt to calm him failed miserably. With nothing more to do, Emma followed suit behind her friend.

"Are you insane, Jack!"

Startled, Jack turned to look at the younger man with a confused look. It wasn't every day that grown men came up to his face and began yelling at him. Well, unless of course they were drunk, but unless Will had gotten into his secret rum stash…

"Ah, I see you liked the dresses, love – ye look splendid," Jack said, grinning when he noticed Emma standing beside Will. She looked more than nice. She looked…ravishing, which was what he wanted to do to her right then.

At Jack's flattery, a slow blush began to creep up Emma's cheeks. It was stopped, however, when Will's furious voice rang out again beside her.

"She's not just any other girl, Jack! What were you thinking, asking her to sleep in your room?"

Jack's face fell serious and he spoke calmly, though the aggravation in his voice was noticeable. He did not like to be reprimanded in front of his crew, but if William Turner wanted a show, he would bloody get one.

"Well, Will, Seeing as I am captain of this ship, and it is my responsibility to see to my passengers with the utmost care, I thought to myself, 'Gee, Jack, A bonny lass like Emma aboard me ship where there hasn't been a woman's company in quite a time, what should ye do? Oh, I know! Maybe I should ask her to sleep in my room, so she won't have to bloody sleep with the damned crew!"

Glaring at the men who had ceased their work, Jack, yelled, "Get back to work, and get to bed!" a command with which they immediately complied.

Examining her fingernails, Emma shifted uneasily under the mounting pressure, avoiding eye contact with either of her friends. Letting a slow breath out through his nose, Jack sensed Emma's discomfort at being the subject of the argument, and quickly tried to ease her.

"You know you can trust me, mate; I'm an honest man, honestly. Now why don't we just all sit back and enjoy our first night's freedom, eh?"

"That's a wonderful idea, wouldn't you say, Will?" Emma added promptly.

"Yes…let's."

Tying a rope around the spurs of the helm to keep the Black Pearl on course, Jack strode towards the bow where he joined his two friends, Emma and Will. The three were consumed by an eerie silence, Jack on Emma's right, and Will to her left, the past argument long but forgotten. It was in this position, though she was glad the quarrel had subsided, the Emma felt most uncomfortable. Before, she at least had the knowledge what each man was thinking, but their new silence was more unnerving than she deemed possible. The tension between Jack and Will was so much so, to the point that Emma felt she could slice it with a knife – and she gladly would, if only she had one available. Fearing that her own loss of sanity would soon take place, Emma stood from her seat and sauntered to the railing where she drowned her angst with the black sea, penetrating and serene.

A few minutes passed, Will as well stood up, and heaving a heavy sigh, spoke for the first time since the fight.

"Well, it's been a long day," he said forcing a small docile smile. "I think it best that I retreat to my quarters. Goodnight Jack," Will acknowledged with a nod, and then continued, "Emma."

"Goodnight," Emma and Jack replied simultaneously.

Throwing Jack a gracious smile, Emma turned back to view the ocean, the sound of William's footsteps fading into the night. Mentally she sighed at the relief of stress that she felt once the two shipmates had been separated. She had not been sure how much longer she would have lasted in the silent battle that raged between them, and had been waiting for one to give up. In this case, Will had lost.

As she stood with her back to him, Jack ran his eyes over her figure again. Bathed in the pallid light of the full moon, her features were accentuated, her long, golden hair blowing freely in the night breeze, hanging past her waist where it turned to large, gentle locks that rested on her impressively wide hips. To him she seemed mysterious and intriguing. The more he saw of her, the more he had the urge to hold her, to touch her – to slide his hands and lips over every possible inch of her body, and know her. He wanted Emma, and, by all means necessary, he would have her.