A/N: Long, and I hate it. That's about it. Thanks for reviewing though!
"How the bloody hell does he keep managing to do this to me?"
Upon waking up in the morning, Elizabeth Swan had been visited by the thought of Jack Sparrow, where he was, what he was doing, and if he was thinking about her. She hadn't enjoyed the thoughts once she was fully conscious and realized just what images her mind was dishing out. And so she had resorted to quarrelling with herself, and out loud, at that.
"He can't keep his hands to himself! Not that I didn't enjoy—He's a bloody pirate! Horrible and distasteful and—and a pirate!"
She stamped her foot on the floor and then stormed out of the room, out onto the deck. The Captain was nowhere in sight, much to her relief, as she glanced up at the crow's nest. No one was present in it, and after another quick glance to be sure no one was around to see her, Elizabeth scaled the mast and climbed into the box. Gazing into the distance, she was still able to see the ships sails on the horizon, and realized that for the number of days they had been sailing, the sails should have been coming closer to them. But they were not. Instead they merely sat placidly on that same particular spot on the line between earth and sky, and this worried the girl. Turning her head slightly farther to the right, she saw something even more surprising: land. An island, perhaps, but one which harbored life and civilization. She wondered if the Captain had been planning on pulling into port there the entire time.
The ship swayed a bit, and something rolled into her foot. A telescope. Picking it up, she extended it, although with a bit of trouble, and then admired the magnified view it produced. It appeared as though the island was very much inhabited; people were scuttling all over the beach and port, and pushing through crowds to stop at what she assumed to be food carts, or some other form of good. The thought then occurred to her that perhaps the ship to which the unmoving sails belonged, was in fact anchored farther out to sea. Still, if it were, it would have been even more likely that the Balinor was moving closer to it, which it quite obviously was not. The young woman was so entranced by her newfound toy, that she didn't notice any words of awe she might have spoken, nor did she notice the appearance of a rather familiar figure below her.
"As much as I hate to interrupt your evident pleasure, I must ask that you come down from there this very moment, and adorn your lovely ladylike figure in some more…ladylike attire." The Captain stood where she could see him now, and he looked up at her with an expression that neither hid, nor truly revealed whatever it was he may have been thinking as he stood there. "We are to go ashore, and stay ashore for a wee bit, and I'll not have you prancing about in sailors' clothing, no matter how comfortable they may be, whilst Captain Jack Sparrow accompanies you. You will also want to gather any other effects which you feel you will need for the next day or so, and then you are to meet myself and the crew right on this very spot I stand." He stamped his foot once on the hard deck to indicate which spot he meant, and then swaggered off, a bottle of rum somehow managing to find its way into his hand. Elizabeth stared after him, curious as to how he had appeared so suddenly, without her notice, and then started to climb down, telescope in hand. "And please, if you will, leave the splendiferous pulley-lookey-thingy behind," his voice rang out, from wherever he now was, and Elizabeth dropped it back into the crow's nest, and continued down.
Jack was gone again, and she cast a last look at the approaching land before turning on her way to her stateroom. She didn't really have much she would have liked to bring ashore, with the exception of her clothes and her paints, perhaps. But considering she didn't possess an easel, there wasn't a whole lot of point to bringing her paints along. Besides, she didn't know what Jack needed to stop at port for—maybe he would need her help with something. And so, she elected to bring a few simple outfits along, annoyed that the Captain was making her leave the oh-so-comfortable men's clothing behind. Without a proper bag in which to store her clothes, her pillowcase would have to do. She stuffed her chosen outfits into the silk covering, and then slipped into an older, faded violet dress.
There was a great commotion aboard the vessel as they neared the port. Jack was apparently playing it safe, however, for the anchor was already dropped and the ship was well out from the docks. Elizabeth's eyes scanned the ship. Everything was suddenly lively, and she found it was a nice change from the steady routine of maintaining the ship while it was sailing through open waters. The crewmembers seem to have felt it too; many of them were smiling and laughing and clashing together oddly shaped bottles of rum, spilling the liquid over the sides.
She made her way to where the crew was gathering, beneath the crow's nest, and quite suddenly found the Captain giving orders in a deep, commanding tone.
"Gentlemen! In case none of you have noticed just what place it is we have arrived at…I would like to welcome you all to Isle de Avia, home port of this here good ship," he bellowed, patting the mast of the Balinor affectionately. "A bit like Tortuga, she is, but slightly less…anarchic. As for why we be pulling into such a fine port as herself—Some of you might have observed that we're running a wee bit low on rum. And food, of course," he added as an afterthought. There was a rumble of acknowledgment through the group. "So we'll be spending a day or more on land, gathering rum—and supplies—and so long as you scabrous dogs return with needed items, you're free to roam and do as you please. Now! Let down the…tiny…boaties!" He swung his cutlass threateningly at the crew, who immediately hurried to get the rowboats into the water. Turning to Elizabeth, he sheathed the cutlass, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Your things together, love?"
"Yes," she answered, shaking the pillowcase in gesture.
"Very good then. Find yourself a boat then, and hop to it—they fill fast." He turned on his heel and tottered off, humming to himself.
Elizabeth glowered after him, and then hurried toward the boat Gibbs and Cotton were nearest to. Gibbs held the boat while she stepped into it, next to a few crewmen she was not familiar with. One of them stood and took her shoulder to steady her, and one of the others took her pillowcase of clothes.
"Watch yer step Miss Elizabeth," Gibbs cautioned her, in a gentlemanly way. Once she was settled in the boat, some more crewmembers swung over the edge and into it also, and finally, once it was full, Gibbs and Cotton. Cotton sat next to her, his parrot on the shoulder closest to her, and she looked at it curiously.
"Hello," she said, speaking to the parrot, not the man on whose shoulder it was perched. The bird tilted its head and scrutinized her, as did Cotton, and then it reached out and bit the tip of her nose—hard. The young woman jumped back in surprise, rubbing her throbbing nose, and Cotton gave the bird a hard glare. A moment later, he moved to the other side of the boat, and took the place of the man who had been rowing. Behind them, Jack Sparrow rowed his own boat, staying well back, and beyond his boat was another. Elizabeth noted that a few men remained on the Balinor, probably to make certain it wasn't commandeered. When they reached the shore, Gibbs was the first one out, and helped Elizabeth onto the dock just after him. Cotton handed her the pillowcase, which she took, careful not to let it fall into the murky waters.
Jack tied his boat to the opposite side of the dock and hopped out, and, not bothering to wait for any of the crew, strode off, looking entirely set on reaching wherever it was he was destined. None of the crew paid much attention, save for Elizabeth, who scurried after him and then stepped in his path, forcing him to halt. He looked at her, obviously surprised, and then gently moved her out of his way with one hand. He continued walking, until she ran up to him and grabbed his wrist.
"The hull is nearly bursting with every food imaginable," Elizabeth declared, confronting him. "And the drink stocks are plenty. We didn't dock here for rum, did we Jack?"
The pirate stared at her for a moment, as if in a trance, before nodding and answering, "No."
Elizabeth glared at him with a hard expression on her face.
"Then what exactly are we doing here, Captain Sparrow?"
He started walking again, gesturing for her to follow. When they reached the end of the dock he threw an arm out to stop her in her tracks.
"We're here, love, because your Captain is needing to gather some outside information on that ship we've been seein' out there. And Isle de Avia is the only port that might have the information he be looking for." He smirked, and then pulled her close enough so that he could whisper in her ear. "I'll find you tonight, darling. I promise you that." Elizabeth felt a twinge of fear shoot through her body as those words left his lips. She gathered the distinct impression that he was suggesting much more than he had intended her to understand. Well, she would just need to stay away from the infamous Captain Sparrow for the night—or at least be certain she wasn't alone with him. But could she really distance herself from him? After all, she had tried to do so numerous times, but to no avail.
"No promises needed, Captain Sparrow," she mumbled, her voice quaking slightly. "I'll be just fine, even if you don't find me." She hoped he would take the hint she had given him, but he merely smiled again and leaned closer to her again.
"I don't break these sorts of promises."
Elizabeth inhaled sharply. Apparently he hadn't taken the hint. He released her and walked off briskly once again, but this time Elizabeth didn't follow. She watched him pivot on his heel down a street to the right, and after waiting a bit, she did the same to the left. She would spend the rest of the afternoon wandering the streets and admiring the architecture, goods, and souvenirs. Perhaps she would even buy something. Upon turning down another street, she came across a man attempting to tow a heavy crate into a back door of one of the shops. He stopped what he was doing and looked up curiously when he noticed her shadow.
"Mornin' miss," he greeted, brushing his hands off and then giving a low bow. When he righted himself again, his eyes took in her appearance. "What's a fine woman such as yerself doin' out here all alone, eh?"
Elizabeth stared at him briefly before answering.
"I—I'm not alone," she blurted out, rather stupidly. Realizing her mistake, she quickly corrected herself. "I mean, at the moment, yes, it would appear I am alone. But in all reality I am in fact accompanied by another, that is I am not alone, except for at this very moment, and the one who accompanies me is—"
"Right here," came a voice from behind her. Elizabeth spun around to see Jack standing just a few feet away, one hand on his hip and the other resting placidly on the butt of his pistol, which remained hidden, unseen, beneath his baggy shirt. She was incredibly grateful—he had ended her senseless—and unnervingly Jack-like—babbling. He took two steps forward, and came to stand close behind and slightly to one side of her. "I was just taking her on a bit of a shopping spree," he told the man, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Ah," the other man replied simply, and then muttered a 'good day,' and went back to his work. Jack placed one hand firmly on Elizabeth's shoulder, and led her away, never letting go of her. When she looked back, he squeezed her shoulder and shook her slightly.
"Don't look back, love," he said quietly. "Don't ever look back. Not in this town. Someone thinks you looked at them the wrong way and you're as good as done for. An' being a lady does no good at all." He led her to a building a little ways away, and then ducked inside, the girl in tow. They trod up the stairs and into what looked to be an upstairs apartment type area, and he turned around to face her.
"What is this place?" she asked him, gesturing with her eyes to the room around them.
"That's not important. What is important, however, is that you stay here, and do not wander. I thought you'd be following me when I left at the dock there, but when I looked and you weren't there, I close to panicked." He looked sternly at her, and then started to leave.
"Jack—Dare I ask—What is it that has you so spooked?"
The pirate didn't answer for a long moment.
"There's more than just beasties here, love." His eyes flashed in some unknown emotion, and with that said, he hurried back down the stairs and out the door.
Elizabeth sighed, frustrated, and plopped down on a couch. He couldn't expect her to stay locked up in here for the rest of the day. He knew better than that. Still though, his statement was slightly disturbing. Anything that Jack found worrisome must be worthy of just that. Perhaps she really should listen to him for once.
A sudden memory changed her mind immediately.
"A little mermaid flopped up on deck and told him the whole story!"
Jack Sparrow was not to be trusted. She had to find out just what it was he was up to, and she needed to do it as quietly as possible. Uncertain if there were others downstairs that might have heard the pirate commanding her to stay put, Elizabeth crept silently down the stairs, and checked around the wall to see if anyone else was there. There were people outside, she noticed, however. She couldn't risk going out through the front door. Besides, he had probably locked it, or something of the sort.
Making her way around the downstairs section of the building, she came across another door, which opened into a back alley. There was no one in sight. The young woman opened it cautiously, surprised to find that it wasn't locked. Stepping outside, the few shafts of sunlight present hit her like a ton of bricks, making her blink rapidly until her eyes adjusted to the light. Closing the door behind her, she walked down past a few buildings before cutting through another alley and back into the street. She didn't see any sign of the captain, but continued walking. There was plenty of activity about to keep her interested in her surroundings.
As she neared a corn vendor and his cart, she suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure with a swaggering walk, and ducked behind them. The vendor shouted at her in another language, but she paid him no attention. Her eyes rested on Jack as he stumbled up some stairs and into another building. She ducked closer, making certain she was out of view of the window where she could see him standing, and approached the building. The pirate was shaking hands with another man, and then disappeared into the back of the—'Dark Horse Pub'—Elizabeth read from the sign. Deciding she didn't want to risk entering the building and being seen, she sat down on a bench hidden by some overgrown shrubs, and waited.
It was night by the time Elizabeth awoke, and realized just what she had done. She sat up, having slid down as she'd slept, and glanced around. Looking in through another window, Elizabeth realized she could see Jack again, sitting at a table with the same man, talking and guzzling rum. His hands gestured wildly about as his lips moved, which she tried with no success to read. The only other time she had heard of Jack entering a pub had been when he was inquiring as to whether or not Gibbs would help him gather a crew for his journey to reclaim the Pearl. She assumed he would be making a proposition of some sort this night.
"'Ello there, missy!" came a rough voice quite suddenly from nearby. A tall, imposing man stepped into Elizabeth's field of view. He had dark hair, which rested comfortably at his shoulders. It was thin and wispy, giving the appearance of him having been slashed by numerous windstorms. His face was hard and his eyes cold, as he reached for her hand.
Elizabeth jerked it away before he touched it, but when she did so he reached out with his other hand to catch her other wrist. He pulled her harshly into a standing position and in the next moment she felt the telltale warning of a steel barrel resting ever so tauntingly at her temple. The man backed her into the nearest alley, holding both her wrists behind her back and the gun at her head, making sure she wouldn't escape. In her mind, Elizabeth was cursing herself for not trusting Jack. He had never given her much reason not to trust him—at least, when it came to these matters. And now, here she was, not one-hundred feet from the building in which he was sitting, about to be taken against her will and likely shot dead when the man was finished with her. When would she learn?
The man shoved her roughly to her hands and knees, laughing maniacally as he did so.
"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Elizabeth growled from her place on the ground, wary of the pistol still trained on her.
"And just what might that be, lovely?" the man chuckled, his gruff voice frightening her.
"The fact that I have numerous friends about this here village, and that if you kill me, you'll only succeed in angering them severely. Whereas if you let me go now, you'll have my word that I won't say a thing about this little incident, and we'll both be happy and worry-free." She didn't know just was exactly she was doing, but her only instinct was to stall him.
"Well then I'll say it's a right good thing I ain't goin' to be killin' ye then, eh? At least, not yet, I mean," he replied, putting his boot on her back and pressing her to the ground. "Or maybe I'll just kill ye right here an' now and nobody'll know the difference." He cocked the pistol, setting it at the back of her head.
Quite abruptly, a loud thud was heard and the pistol dropped from the man's hand. He fell on top of Elizabeth, but was there only for as long as it took her to get her feet beneath her and stand. Jack Sparrow and the man he had been speaking with stood there, both looking at the man on the ground curiously.
"Not very friendly," Jack said to the unconscious man with a tilt of his head. "These are the men that should be strung up by the necks—the ones that treat woman like this." He spoke now to his companion, and then finally met Elizabeth's alarmed eyes. "Mr. Recor, if you'd be so kind…" The captain nodded in a manner, which the other—Mr. Recor—took to mean he was expected to leave. He did so, and once gone, Elizabeth found herself alone with an angry pirate.
"I'm sorry—" the girl began, but he cut her off.
"Back to the inn, love," he said quietly, lowering his gaze. "We'll talk there."
There was a sort of disappointment in his voice that Elizabeth couldn't quite understand. She'd known he'd be upset if he had caught her, but disappointment was an emotion she was totally unprepared for. Even so, she followed him, an awkward silence hanging in the air the entire way back. By the time they reached the inn, and he opened the door for her, she felt full blown shame for what she had done. Up the stairs and into the room with the couch was where Elizabeth found herself going, but Jack insisted the go in the nearby bedroom, lest anyone hear them. This statement frightened her a bit, but she did as he asked.
Upon entering, Jack seated himself in a chair, and Elizabeth on the bed, being careful to brush what was left of the dirt from her dress as she sat down.
"That is precisely why I told you to stay here," the man grumbled from his seat, looking at the woman before him. "But I guess one can never trust a pirate."
"Jack!" Elizabeth cried, shaking her head. "That's not the case at all!"
"Well you seemed to do a bloody fine job of making it appear so."
"It's not…you, Jack. It's that blasted thing I call my conscience. It…conflicts…among other things," she said softly, looking at the floor. "And I was curious."
"Ah," the man whispered, standing up. "Yes, the mind conflicts with many other parts of the human body. The heart, perhaps?" He was standing nearer to her now, and she also stood. "Oh, and I may have told you before; curiosity never was a sin."
Elizabeth locked eyes with him, having to look upward only slightly, for he was not much taller than she. For a moment she felt certain her was going to kiss her, and she instinctively tried to pull away, but he didn't.
"I almost lost you tonight, Elizabeth," Jack's raspy voice informed her gently, still gazing at her. "I already have one recent death on my mind. I don't need another. And particularly yours, love." He trailed his fingers across her face, brushing a strand of hair from her eye, and then crushed his lips against hers.
There was a desperation in his kiss, as if he had never needed anything so much as what he was getting from her that very moment. Elizabeth was powerless to stop him, as he pressed her down on her back and against the soft mattress, one hand supporting her head, and the other keeping him from crushing her beneath his heavier weight. Her mind backtracked to his admission that he had been thinking about Will's death. He was a good man, she realized, even if he himself did not, and her heart immediately went out to him. How could she have not seen him for the man he truly was? He was a man who loved the sea and the freedom that came with it, but he was also a man who had never had a choice in the matter. Nothing else had been given to him to love.
But did he love her? Her main concern vanished when he deepened the kiss, knowing that even if he didn't love her just yet, he wanted her. And that was good enough for her. The compass had shown them what they each desired most, even if they denied it. As Jack had told her, the mind was well known for conflicting with the heart. She only thought once of Will, understanding now what Jack had meant when he had told her Will wouldn't have wanted them to be moping around on his account. Will had seen the events of that day on the Black Pearl, and in her heart, Elizabeth had known all along that Will may have won her, but she would never have cared for him in the way she cared for Jack.
It was a startling revelation, and slightly cruel at that, but she didn't care. Her hands found the buttons of his shirt and undid them, one at a time, savoring the feel of them beneath her fingers. The offending shirt was removed, and thrown to the floor, and Elizabeth was shocked to utter silence by what she saw.
The pirate's skin was tanned a deep beige, the result of years in the sunlight, and a great number of scars divided his body into well-defined sectors. There were two round scars near his collarbone, and another, more recent looking one, which ran the width of his body just below these. She traced it with one finger and he shuddered slightly, obviously still sore. She looked up into his dark eyes inquiringly.
"Bumped the rail during that storm," he answered with a smile. "Nothing more."
"You did more than bump it to get a mark such as that," she whispered, in awe. Each mark held a story, much as a library is with its books. She wanted to know all of them, but was distracted when he kissed her again.
"Now it's time to play fair," he said softly, and gripped a section of her dress.
Elizabeth shuddered violently, suddenly nervous and wanting to stop. Jack must have detected her fear, because he released the dress to cup her face in his palms. As he stared into her eyes, she thought she saw a shadow pass behind them.
"I promise you, love, you'll be fine. All you need to do is play fair." He smiled gently and kissed her, and then moved his hands back to slip the dress off of her slim body. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment when she realized he was now seeing her with only her undergarments on, and when the captain laughed, they grew even redder. "Calm, deary. You're just lovely."
The young woman visibly relaxed beneath him, as he trailed gentle kisses down her neck and shoulders, and closer to her chest. Elizabeth's fingers played with the belt of his sailor's pants, unclasping the buckle and tossing it aside. She was amazed to see yet more scars appear on his muscled torso, and with every movement the light caught on yet another. There were numerous scars from bullet wounds—and it frightened her.
Within a few minutes, both their undergarments were removed, and again Elizabeth's face grew red, but again Jack reassured her, and she calmed.
"I'm not about to go any further without your consent, Elizabeth, but if you don't tell me to stop right now, I'm not going to be able to," the pirate breathed, resting his forehead on her own. "And I been meaning to ask ye—Have you ever…?"
Elizabeth bit her lip and shook her head, nervous again. She tensed, and he felt it, silently cursing himself for not just going ahead.
"I won't judge, love. Just say the words, and we'll stop right here. Pirate or not, I'm not one to force things upon such a fine specimen of the female species." He grinned, and Elizabeth chuckled.
"Whether it's now or later, it's going to happen sometime," she answered, steeling her nerves. "Might as well be now."
Apparently that was good enough for Jack Sparrow, for he kissed her fiercely, and continued.