A/N: Wow, nearly 18 months since I updated this fic…I hadn't realised I'd stayed away from the POTC fandom so long! I've since gone through about 3 different usernames and my writing style has probably changed, but I was reading through all my fics and I had this burning urge to continue this one. Please bear with me while I find my feet with this story again, as always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, as are positive comments. Enjoy!
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Streak lay beside Jack, an arm across his chest and their legs intertwined. She smiled as he shifted in his sleep, muttering to himself of rum and mermaids. The ship's gentle rocking soon lulled her to sleep, where for the first time in seven years she slept, uninterrupted by nightmares.
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Jack woke, finding himself alone in his bed.
'Lily?' He rubbed his eyes, took a swig of the never-empty bottle on the floor and looked around the room. Coming to the realisation that he was, indeed, alone, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his usual attire, not forgetting his hat, and stumbled out of the cabin.
He found Streak practising her sword skills against an invisible opponent, and decided to test her ability. Drawing his sword silently, he waited until she turned, meeting her blade with his.
'En guarde, luv.'
She replied with a smirk, and backflipped away from him, increasing the distance between them.
'Ye think ye can handle me, Jack? I've learnt a lot since ye tried ter teach me ter fight back home.'
He advanced on her slowly, like a cat waiting to pounce. She watched him, uncertain of his next move.
'Luv,' he looked into her eyes, 'I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow,' he briefly met her lips with his, 'Savvy?'
Streak smiled up at her Captain, before catching him off-guard with a kick to his right ankle.
'Hey! Ye cheated, luv.'
'Ever heard the phrase, "Pot calling the kettle black"?'
There was laughter in his eyes as he good-naturedly parried with her, the two blades clashing together time and again, until her sword clattered to the deck, and his was at her throat.
'Looks like I win, luv.'
'Not quite, Jack.' She reached behind her to her belt, and pulled out a small dagger, holding it to his crotch.
'Touché.'
Jack dropped his sword in surrender and looked into her eyes.
'Now we both know ye would never carry out that threat.'
'And how do ye know that?'
He leant forward and whispered in her ear, 'Because ye enjoyed last night too much ter risk not bein' able ter do it again, luv.'
She smiled at this and stepped away.
'Now how 'bout some breakfast, me darlin'? All that fighting has worked me up an appetite.'
'Aye, that'll about do it.'
Jack slung an arm about her shoulders casually, but making Streak feel safe all the same. They wandered across the deck to the galley, where the scent of breakfast could be smelt, whetting the appetite, unaware that their display of affection had been observed.
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A/N: A fairly short chapter, I think, but I'm quite pleased with it. I'll update once I receive a couple of reviews, just to let me know that you guys are still interested in this fic. Hope you liked it, and that the transition between this chapter and the previous one wasn't too bumpy.
Perfect but Scarred (aka Jackoholic)
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