A/N: Here's yet another chapter for you all! Over 1400 hits in two days! You guys are awesome! I shall most likely be posting another chapter, possibly two, before I leave for a two week vacation on Sunday. I will be working on this story while on vaca, but I will not be able to post any new chapters until I return. I will however try to get several done, so that when I do post again, there will be more than just one new one. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It took me forever to get just right.
Disclaimer: You know it's not mine.
Elizabeth lay on her bed later that evening, enjoying the peace and quiet of her stateroom. It was surprisingly roomy, considering the fact that the ship was not at all built luxuriously. There was a small bookcase against one wall, and a nightstand built of a wood, which matched the same deep mahogany of the Balinor's helm. Upon it was set a silver frame, which surrounded a portrait of the Pearl. She wasn't sure why she had wanted such a painting done for her, and if her father had ever discovered it, he would have been most displeased. However, it had served the purpose of keeping the existence of such a famous ship alive, even now that it was gone.
Her thoughts strayed to what had happened on the boat deck earlier that day. Will's cold words were still running through her head, as if they were freshly spoken. She couldn't for the life of her determine why it was she felt guilty. She had always raised herself on the belief that love was love, and nothing could change the way she felt. If she didn't love Will in the way he wanted her to, then so be it. They would both be happier without the other, in the long run. Will would find a woman to settle down with, one that truly loved him, more than just caring for him. And Elizabeth…well, she wasn't certain just what her future held, but she was positive that everything would eventually work out for the best.
And as for Jack Sparrow…she could never tell with him. At first it had appeared that he were going to question her, after hearing Will's comment, but he had instead left quickly. Fled, almost. His actions both intrigued, and worried her. After all, he was a man who's 'first and only love' was the sea, and she couldn't expect any more than that from him. But the idea that he had fled her presence gave her other impressions. Maybe there was a slim chance he cared for her, more than he should have. Or perhaps it was only that he fled out of sheer embarrassment. He was entitled, considering Elizabeth was sure she had blushed when he looked at her.
Her musings were cut short by a knock at her door, which startled her. She instinctively pulled the bed sheets over herself, for she was wearing only a nightgown, and a rather exposing one, at that.
"Come in," she called, and a young boy, who looked to be no more than fourteen years of age, opened the door.
"The Captain has requested to see you in his private quarters," the lad informed her, giving a low bow. "If yer not too tired, ma'am," he added.
Elizabeth smiled thinly.
"No, no, I'll be there. But will you please inform the Captain that I'll need a moment to change into some more…er…appropriate attire?" she asked.
"Of course, ma'am." The boy set off to deliver the message.
Sighing, Elizabeth swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. She decided to fish out some semi-womanly clothing, rather than the men's clothing she had grown accustomed to wearing nowadays. She found a particularly flattering blue dress, which she had worn only for casual matters around her home back in Port Royal. Her mind was whispering at her to put the blue dress away and pick something less…seductive. Yet another part of her reminded her that her father had picked the dress out especially for when she needed to appear formal, and not prostitute-like. Not that she had appeared prostitute-like.
Ignoring the more annoying part of her conscience, she slipped on the blue dress, and a pair of shoes, and started off for the Captain's quarters. She hadn't the slightest idea what his intentions might have been, calling her there that night, but she wasn't about to let the chance to explain herself—and Will—slip through her fingers. She made her way down the narrow, forgotten hallway until she reached a room, which she presumed to be the correct one, judging by the décor surrounding the doorframe. A continuous silver vine weaved its way around the door, dodging curiously in and out of the wood every so often, like a serpent in water. She raised her hand to knock on the door, just as a figure pulled it open.
"I heard you coming," the form of Jack Sparrow stated simply, and motioned her inside. Elizabeth nodded and walked by him. She had never been into his private quarters, on any of his ships. She heard him close the door behind him, and whirled around, but not so quickly as to rouse suspicion. He was a good man—he wouldn't try anything. And besides, she doubted he felt anything for her anyway.
Jack pulled up a chair for her, while he remained standing. Elizabeth tucked her leg underneath the other in a ladylike fashion, and waited for the man before her to speak. His kohl-lined eyes were downcast, as if in thought, and she studied him from afar. He may not have held the appearance of a respectable Englishman, but there was no doubt that the Captain had a handsomeness about himself that was his, and his alone. She shifted slightly, still examining him, when he looked up and quite suddenly locked eyes with her, black to brown.
"There's somethin' I been meanin' t' ask you, Miss Swan," he began when she had pulled her eyes away uncomfortably.
Oh, so he was back to formalities now, was he? Elizabeth looked up anxiously.
"And just what might that be, Captain Sparrow?" she inquired with a quizzical expression.
He paused, fingering the braided sections of his beard. After a moment, he focused his attention back on her.
"I'm inclined to inquire as t' just why ye didn' get on that ship with Mr. Turner."
Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. Jack looked at her expectantly, but seeing she wasn't going to answer right away, gave a dramatic roll of his eyes before sitting down in another nearby chair. He withdrew his pistol from its holder, and fiddled with it, until the woman across from him finally saw fit to answer his question.
"I—I would have thought that was obvious, Captain Sparrow," she forced herself to say, trying to keep her voice from quaking, as she knew it had.
"Ah, but in what manner of speakin' do you mean this by, love?"
She thought quickly, before snapping, "Not in the manner you think it is being spoken in. Will and I merely are finding ourselves on bad terms, at the present time."
His dark eyes narrowed as he surveyed her, and stood up, Elizabeth doing the same. She moved towards the door, and turned the knob. She would have opened it had another hand not covered her own, and stopped her from doing so. Turning around, she found that Jack was holding tightly to her wrist, and their faces were extremely close to one another. They had had run-ins like this in the past, but this one was somehow different.
"And in what manner of speakin' is it ye think I'm thinkin' it be?" the dark eyed man in a low voice, grinning slyly. "'Cause you might be su'prised what it is I 'appen t' be thinkin'."
Elizabeth stared him straight in the eye, quickly losing any interest in leaving the room. She started to speak, but he put a finger against her lips to stop her. His free hand rested against her neck, and she shuddered slightly as he ran it down her shoulder, and the length of her arm. He smiled devilishly and grazed his lips across hers.
"Ye be tremblin', love," he whispered roguishly, pulling back a bit.
"Can't quite help that, Captain Sparrow," Elizabeth breathed, knowing full well what was going to happen, but unable to prevent it. Jack grinned, and closed his mouth over her own. The kiss was not gentle, by any terms, but neither was it harsh. Elizabeth, having only ever kissed Will, was not prepared for the surge of emotion Jack's kiss brought about. She was more accustomed to Will's soft and calculated way of going, but Jack was different. There was something about the way he went about kissing her, that would have made her smile, had her mouth not been busy with…other things.
He pressed her up against the door, his hands roaming freely, unashamedly over her slim form. Elizabeth attempted to move, for the hard wood of the door was cold and uncomfortable against her back, but Jack was much stronger than she, and held her in place. Pirate, she could almost hear him say in his sing-song voice. They were finally forced to break apart, for lack of oxygen, and it was only then that the full force of what had just transpired between them came crashing down on them both. Except neither of them much cared.
Jack rested his forehead against the young woman's, as she caught her breath.
"Sorry for catching you off guard, lass," the Captain voiced, grinning. "Caught meself off guard 's well," he added with a frown.
Elizabeth took the opportunity to slip away from the door, and then turned to face the man, the pirate, whom she had most definitely just fallen for. For a long moment they simply gazed at one another, the silence enveloped in a thick blanket of tension and nerves.
"An' sorry fer hurtin' your back, there," Jack said genuinely, breaking the silence. "Got a bit carried away, I s'pose." His dark eyes looked right through her, knew that she was craving more. She said nothing as he stepped forward and again locked her in a passionate kiss, and moved her to his bed. He lay down atop her, continuing his barrage of now softening kisses. He felt her tense as his left hand reached her naval, and he smiled against her lips.
"Not tonight love," the man whispered softly in her ear, still smiling. He gave her another peck on the lips. "Just tryin' t' make certain I 'ad kissed ye with somethin' soft behind you. You've nothin' to fret about." He moved to lay beside her, but not before slipping his boots off. Elizabeth started to stand up, prepared to leave, but Jack pulled her back down. "You ain't goin' nowhere, darlin'."
"Oh really?" she replied with an eyebrow cocked. "I suspect it will be greatly questioned if we were to spend the night in the same cabin, Captain Sparrow."
"Aye. But that's the fun o' it love. Come now, get those ruddy things off yer feet, and get over 'ere." His expression was one of mock seriousness.
"I'm sorry Captain, but I really should go. For both our sake." She nodded to signify that her statement was final, and then left the room, closing the door gently behind her. Once in her own room, Elizabeth Swan did something she hadn't done since the day her mother passed away: she cried.