Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Fencing rocks. School doesn't. Damn, I haven't written in a long time. I've been pretty busy…and then when I tried to write I sort of hit a dead end. So I'm sorry if this chapter sucks. Everyone, bother Laura about updating, okay?

As I felt Will's arms going around my waist I wondered vaguely if the unearthly shriek that was chasing itself around the cramped space was really my own. That its literally what was going through my mind as I felt Will slam into the deck with me on top of him. How did I get into situations like this?

I tried in vain to untangle myself from his arms, the neckline of my dress helplessly low. With a grunt and a few muttered oaths, I managed to sit up. "What the bleeding hell was that for, Jack? I think I've broken something!" I snarled, even though I really hadn't. I'd have a good few bruises, but nothing more. I turned around and saw Will still laying on the floor with his eyes closed.

"Get up you lout."

Will didn't react. I punched him in the arm. Clearly, my head was altered from the fall. "Wake up you big idiot! Do you think that you can just shove me against a wall and then fall down a couple of bloody stairs and I wont beat you to a pulp for it? Get UP, William!"

He didn't move. I began to get worried, ignoring the tittering of the crew behind me as they reacted to hearing how Will had handled me. I heard Anamaria mutter something about the whelp following her advice, and Gibbs's obnoxious chortle. "Will?" I said loudly, not sure if he was just joking around and being an idiot for the fun of it, to make me worry. Once, when we were fourteen, we sat in the rafters after one of the lessons in the shop and he'd been teasing me about the powder I'd been wearing - I had had to attend a gathering earlier that day - and I'd shoved him. He pretended to fall out of the rafters and lay on the floor unconscious until I was hysterical before waking up, and then he'd had a grand old laugh about it. But he'd planned that, and he hadn't planned our fall from the top of the stairs.

"You IDIOTS!" I shrieked towards Jack and the crew, who were still at the top of the stairs and chuckling. "Now you've done it! You've gone and killed him, Jack! You bloody idiot! Didn't I tell you that if you kept up your stupid pranks, someone would end up dead!" I bellowed, and the crew fell silent. Anamaria spoke first.

"He's not dead, Princess," she snapped, pushing herself forward and leaping down the stairs - oh, how I wished she'd fall - to land beside Will. Ever so gracefully, I might add. She smacked him once on each cheek, and he grunted painfully. "You'll hurt him!" I yelped, shoving her away. She snarled at me and stalked off to stand beside Jack, who had also made his way down beside us.

I patted his cheek gently and let out a sigh when his eyes fluttered. "Get up, Will," I said softly.

"Bloody hell, woman," he groaned, sitting up on his elbows and blinking at me. I glared, shoving him hard and standing up. "How dare you frighten me like that, Will? It may have been funny when we were fourteen, but I'll have you know that I, at least, have matured somewhat!" I shouted, grudgingly reaching a hand down to haul him to his feet. Not an easy task; Will can be a lardass when he wants to.

"We'll leave ye two lovebirds alone, shall we?" Jack said, ushering the crew up the rickety stairs. A delightful little shooting pain in my rear kindly reminded me just how rickety those God forsaken stairs were; they were more like a bloody ladder!

"Ye shall, Jack - you and your bloody crew should have left us alone since I got here! I've had enough of your meddling -"

"She sounds like me bloody mum," Gibbs grumbled, as he made his way up the stairs. "Ye best be careful, Jack, or the Princess'll be Captain of the Pearl before ye know it," Anamaria said darkly. Obviously she was still sore about all the things I'd said to her. Jack shot her a nasty look and bounded up the stairs - ladder - muttering about women. I turned around to see Will staring down at me, his eyes still squinted in pain.

"Get in a bunk," I snapped. I was irritated beyond what the situation called for, but I couldn't help myself. I'd just went through weeks of the crew's little ploys to get me to say I'd marry Will - which I really, desperately, wanted to do, and not just to get them off my back either - furthered along by Jack of course; and of Mary's little lectures, and Anamaria's lovely little ditties about how I should just bed Will and get it over with. Bed him! Honestly! And my father thought I had a meager sense of propriety!

Will walked stiffly over to a bunk, also shooting a glare at me. I picked up a basin of fresh water - it was a good thing Jack said we were about to go ashore, we were running out of fresh water - and socked a relatively clean cloth in it. "Are you bleeding?" I bit off, wringing the cloth out.

"Are you done murdering the rag, Christina?" Will asked, sitting on the bunk with his hands on his knees. I sneered at him and added some rum to the water. "I'm going to assume you are bleeding. Pretty hard fall you took there, William. Maybe you've addled what remains of your tiny brain."

"Well, it was saving your pretty little arse that my brain was bloody addled!" he shot back. Clever. How very clever.

"Saving my arse? I don't recall being in any sort of danger."

"Oh, that's right. You just flung yourself into my arms."

"Don't test me, Will. Maybe I was trying to kill you for being such an idiot! How dare you speak to me like that! After everything you've done, and then you just shove me against the wall! I don't know how that makes me any more likely to marry you!" I said, stomping over and pulling him forward by the loose strings of his shirt. I clucked my tongue at the matted mess that was the back of his head - he'd have a fine bruise for a week or so.

"That burns, you little wench!" Will yelped as I pressed the cloth - sodden with water and rum - onto his head. "Don't be such a pansy," I muttered, pressing light all the same. He sighed angrily, "No wonder my father spent so much time at sea - if my mother was anything like you, it's a wonder he married her at all! It's a wonder he didn't lose his mind!"

"Oh, very good, William," I snapped, hurt. I flung the rag at him and walked away. It's truly amazing how silently the man can bound up and spin my around. There has to be some maneuver that I could learn to avoid being spun like a top every time he wants to get my attention.

"That's not what I meant," he said, very seriously.

"Oh, all right. That clears it all up and makes it much better. Marry me right now, William Turner! I shall look forward to a life of jeering and insults, and a self-righteous bastard for a husband who thinks he knows what his little wife needs -" I spat the word out like it burned my tongue, "- a good solid kick up the arse every now and then - heaven knows that's what I ran away from Port Royal to find. I've been looking for a good strong man to slap around my dignity when I need it!"

"You know bloody well that's not what I meant!" he shouted. He shouted. At me! What makes him think he can get a way with that?

"Finally showing a backbone, then, William?" I glowered. It was all I could think of to say. Will wasn't the type of man to go about yelling at women - according to him, women are delicate and should be cherished. You'd think that eight years with me as his best friend would have taught him otherwise. Although, oddly enough, his newfound sense of resolve - instead of his weepy take-me-back routine - was thrilling. In fact, I found myself more willing to give in to him now. But I won't! I must not!

"If you'd like me to show some backbone, I'd have you over my knee right now." That was going a bit far. I felt heat rush into my face, but I was determined not to let on. I raised my chin and said in my haughtiest Elizabeth-voice, "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I? I've had enough of your foolishness, Christina. You and I both know that this isn't about Elizabeth anymore. Do you love me?"

"What?" I stared at him in open shock. Changing subjects quickly stupefy me.

"I've got a splitting headache. Do you love me?"

"I believe I've answered this question already. Care to try again?" I said nastily, thinking back to a few short minutes ago - maybe only a quarter of an hour - to when he said that yes, he kissed my sister, and yes, he quite enjoyed it. Was there any point to the existence of men? It didn't seem like it.

Will said nothing, only stared hard at me. Right into my eyes. He looked angry, very, very angry, and I wondered if I should take the dagger from my boot to defend myself. I glared back but after a moment started squirming. I couldn't help it. His question hung in the air like something tangible, something alive and writhing and something I could choke on - would choke on - if I didn't answer him. I dropped my eyes and fiddled with my hands in front of me, or holding the sides of my skirt. How could this man drive me so mad with anger and sadness, and yet still make me want to kiss him, to give in, to bow and be his wife? Wife! Me! Cleaning his house and cooking his dinner every night; laying with him and bearing his children and raising his children day after day. Why was that so appealing to me? Why didn't it seem like a life of imprisonment? Why was I finally willing to forgive him for what he did?

"I do love you," I heard myself say softly. I didn't raise my eyes, but if I did I would have seen him walk quietly over to the bunk and sit down again, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I would have seen him struggling to compose himself, to control himself and not ask me to marry him - that was the deal we'd made. Perhaps this story would have ended sooner if he did break his promise and ask me again, one final time. In that moment I knew I was ready to marry Will Turner, and to go back to Port Royal, should he ask me. But perhaps, in the end, it was better that he did not ask, and that he kept his word.

After a moment in drawn out silence I looked up and saw him sitting there on the bunk, just staring at me. I felt the claddagh ring my father had given me before I left hanging heavy on my heart, and wondered why I suddenly became so aware of it. I raised a hand and gripped it gently through my shirt.

I walked over to him slowly and picked up the cloth again, pulling him towards me gently and pressing the cloth to the back of his head. I tried to soothe him when he winced, holding the cloth down gently and patting it. We sat in silence for a while, the only sound was the dripping of the water as I placed it to and from the basin.

"Are you all right now, little fish?" I said softly, inexplicably calm. Will smiled - evidently he felt the same way. He turned to look at me, a bit startled. Then he smiled and I smiled back, and it was as if we never fought. I wondered if this it what it would be like to be married to him - a whirlwind of horrible fights that last for a few seconds and then blew over. Frequent, violent bouts of shouting and anger followed by this sense of peace. I couldn't explain it, it was as if everything was stopped and the only thing I was aware of was standing next to Will and the rocking of the Pearl. It wouldn't be so bad, I thought, if this was what marriage was like. So long as Will didn't go kissing Elizabeth anymore, I thought maybe I could quite enjoy it.

Mary says sometimes she thinks there's more than one person in my head.

I touched the claddagh ring again and thought about what Mary had said, right before I left Port Royal. "Will, I -"

"So sorry to interrupt, love, but we're due ashore right about now," Jack said, making Will and I both jump nearly through the deck. Jack turned around and caught my eye, a very inappropriate smile on his face. Perhaps I wasn't the only one who noticed my change in demeanor. Damn Jack Sparrow and his bloody inopportune moments.

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A/N: I know this chapter is extremely short, but I haven't updated in months and I'm just getting back into this…spontaneously I decided I was sick of writers block, and this is what you get. I hope I get better…its so weird writing after month of not writing…Damn high school gets in the way all the time. I need everyone's patience while I dig myself out of the literary (ha, that's funny. A mockery of the word) shithole that I've been in for the past…four months? Five months?

GO LUNA! She updated before me. Also, she was the inspiration - inadvertently - for this chapter. She asked me to write for TGOO, and this is what the result was. Sorry babe. I shall try, but I want to finish TYO first. One sodding chapter to go, and its not DONE YET!! I think its because I don't want to part with my beloved TYO characters.

-Crystyna