Can't I even have him for St. Valentine's Day? Waaah!

Hmm, not too many reviews pouts Remember, ladies, reviews are like sex with Jack – you can never have too much! ;)

Thanks, as always, to Kat for editing (and boy did she have some to do this time!) and Hilary for being a sounding board. Don't forget to check Hils' story (aided and abetted by me) on affnet, entitled Two Gentlemen of Tortuga.

Chapter Seventeen

"There you are!" Joshamee called as Celia and Oliver appeared from a hatch. "Th'captain's goin' mad, wonderin' where you've got to."

"W-we just w-went and fetch t-this," Celia stammered, holding up the bottle of wine which they had fetched. "I-I'm s-sorry…"

"Go on your way," the quartermaster urged, shooing her with his hands. "The food's already been taken in."

"A-all right," Celia nodded. "T-thank you, Oliver."

"It's a pleasure," he smiled, looking deep in her eyes as she moved past him and hurried along the corridor and up the hatch.

Celia hesitated when she reached the main cabin doors, trying to compose herself before facing Jack. She timidly pushed them open and walked in, gulping as Jack turned to face her.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, looking at her accusingly.

"Umm… Oliver thought you might like some wine with your meal, so w-we went to the s-store for s-some."

"He did, did he?" Jack mused, frowning at her, then softening his features as he saw what looked like fear in her eyes and felt a pang of guilt for his anger. "All right, I'm sorry I snapped. Did he open it fer you?"

"N-no… why?"

"I can't quite manage that yet," Jack chuckled, indicating his shoulder. "Unless you'd like me ter smash th'bottle?"

"Oh, I never thought… I shall go and ask someone to uncork it…"

"Nah, leave it. No doubt Elliot'll be in just now, he can do it. Come an' sit yourself down." Jack pulled out a chair for her and beckoned her over. "Don't want th'food ter get cold, eh?"

"Don't you want me to change?"

"Th'food really would be cold then," he chuckled. "Yer look fine as you are, tight breeches an' all…"

"They are not tight!" Celia objected before pulling a rueful face. "All right, maybe a little… I don't look indecent, do I?" she fretted.

"I'll find you some more ter wear," he grinned wolfishly. "Perhaps just save those fer when you clean th'cabin, eh?"

"Jack Sparrow!" Celia admonished sternly, turning and glaring at him and instantly regretting it as his dark eyes bored into her. "Behave yourself," she scolded limply, the sting taken from her words by the effect he was having on her.

"I'm always good," he growled huskily in her ear, his smile broadening as he felt her shiver. "As you will find out some day."

"I have told you, it will be a cold day in hell first," she retorted without much certainty.

"You're still not convincing me," Jack teased, brushing his lips against her ear and being rewarded with a more violent shudder. "In fact, I reckon if it wasn't fer th'convent instillin' all sorts of rubbish in your head, I reckon you'd be mine by now, hmm?"

"N-no…" Celia insisted. "T-that's n-not true."

"Prove it. Kiss me an' I'll be able ter tell if you really want me or not."

"No!" Celia cried, her heart racing. "I-I can't d-do that!" 'Oh, Lord, what sort of hussy am I becoming?' she worried, biting her lip as she tried to avoid Jack's eyes.

"Why, you afraid of betrayin' yourself?" Jack teased, his finger tracing a line along her jaw until it reached her chin which he lifted so she had no choice but to look at him. "Eh?"

Celia gulped a couple of times, wishing she was strong enough to drag her gaze from his, but instead found herself sinking into his deep pools. "I-I…" She gasped as she found herself being pulled to her feet. "I can't," she whispered. "I-it's wrong…"

"Nothin' wrong with a kiss between friends, an' that is what we are at th'moment, isn't it, Miss Hammond? Just friends…" Jack purred, drawing her closer, his eyes still holding hers, glinting with a mixture of amusement and desire. He ran his tongue over his lips, smirking as Celia moaned beneath her breath. "Prove you don't want me…"

"M-my word should be enough," she replied, cursing her knees for going weak and her blood for racing through her body. "I-I shouldn't have to prove anything to you."

"Ah, therein lies a problem, you see," he mused, the corners of his mouth twitching with merriment. "I never trust a word anyone says ter me. I like ter have solid proof."

'I can't!' she panicked. 'I can't kiss Oliver and then Jackhe might give you some peace if you do kiss him – it is only a kiss, after all…' "All right," Celia sighed with resignation. "I'll kiss you."

"A proper kiss," he warned, wagging a finger at her. "Not a chaste peck, savvy?"

"A proper kiss," Celia promised. "And then can we eat?"

Jack merely smirked at her as he pulled her in closer still until their lips were mere inches apart and he could feel her shallow breath. "You've got ter kiss me, remember."

Celia gulped and shut her eyes before closing the minute distance between them and sighing into his mouth as his soft lips met hers. Without thinking, her arms automatically wound around him, anchoring him to her as Jack's tongue sought entrance to her mouth, which she gave willingly.

'Sweet Jesus,' Jack swore as he savoured the feel of her body pressing against his and the taste of her mouth. 'Don't know how much longer my patience can hold out…' He cupped the back of her head in his hand, kissing her more forcibly and pressed himself against her, rubbing his other hand down her back until he reached the waist of her breeches. 'Stop!' he warned himself, knowing he was about to go too far, and reluctantly broke away from the young woman with a heavy sigh.

Celia shivered and gasped at the loss of contact and stared wildly at him, knowing that she had indeed betrayed her innermost feelings. She pulled away and went to run to the side cabin, crying out as he caught her wrist and stopped her in her tracks. "L-let me go!" she wailed, trying unsuccessfully to free her hand. "Please."

"I'm not goin' ter force you, luv," Jack told her gently. "In fact, nothin' has changed, savvy?"

"Of course it has! Everything has changed," she cried. "If I let you have your way with me, will you let me go in Saint Georges?"

"No." Jack shook his head. "I want you ter give yourself to me willingly, not as a means to an end. Besides you'd still have another three months of yer debt left to repay, even if you did sleep with me tonight."

"Three months?" Celia echoed, looking at him incredulously. "Three months! You promised that if I slept with you, you would halve my debt and being as you have already halved it, that means I would be free to go, would it not?"

"Ah, no, as a matter of fact…" he mused, pressing a finger against his lips and cocking his head to one side. "You saved my life – I halved yer debt, makin' it six months that yer had to pay back. Now half of that is three months," he reasoned with a smile. "I'm good at my sums, if nothin' else…"

"Y-you…" Celia spluttered. "You… bastard!" she shrieked, her hand going to the table and feeling a pewter tankard which she picked up and hurled at him. "I hate you!"

"Celia, luv…" Jack reasoned, raising his hands in surrender. "There's no need fer this… whoa!" he ducked quickly as the small pot full of stew came the same way as the tankard, missing his head by inches and smashed into the bulkhead, leaving a dent in the wood. "Mind my ship!"

"I don't give a damn about your bloody ship," Celia swore, picking up the plates and flinging them at him. "You tricked me!"

"Did not!" he protested. "Half of six is three, as you should know, being educated an' all… should have slept with me when yer term was still a year – you'd have been worth six months then which would have been halved ter three months which would have been halved ter six weeks…" he told her as he ducked and weaved the various objects from the table which were still heading his way.

"Don't get smart with me!" she snarled, looking for something else to throw at him.

"I'm not," he shrugged, taking the opportunity to straighten up before diving to the deck as she picked up a chair and chucked it towards him. "Just tellin' it as it is."

"Is everythin' all right, Cap'n…?" Elliot Deane enquired as he hovered by the doors, not wanting to enter the cabin, but wanting to find out what was going on, as did all of his crewmates gathered around the main deck.

"Get out!" both Jack and Celia shouted, sending the hapless lad scurrying back out.

"Yer coward!" Thomas Frazer taunted as the crew milled forward to hear the argument still raging in the cabin.

"Well, Captain Sparrow," Celia mocked sarcastically. "You do not know your numbers as well as you think. If I had given myself to you when the terms were still at a year and you had halved the debt after I saved your life, I would still have three months left to serve, so I wouldn't be any better off, would I?" she sniped, flinging plate after plate at him and smiled evilly as he all but bent over backwards to dodge them. "Unless you plan on halving the debt each time I sleep with you, in which case let's start now."

"You've got me there," Jack admitted with a rueful smile as he fended off a stray bowl with his good arm. "You were well taught."

"My mother insisted on it. She said it befitted a lady to know her letters and numbers."

"Clever woman," he commented. "Will you be makin' that offer when yer in better humour?"

"What offer? To lay in your bunk? Will you halve the debt each time I do?" she enquired acerbically.

"No," Jack admitted. "It'll still be three months, an' I wouldn't put you down anywhere but Tortuga. At least you know th'place an' have friends there."

"Then, no. I will not be making the offer again – ever!"

"Never say never," Jack quipped, moving around the table, wishing that his shoulder did not hurt so much and he could tackle her to the deck. He was not sure how much more damage his cabin could take. "Besides… you do like me…"

"I hate your filthy, lying, weasly guts!"

"There's a fine line between love an' hate…"

"Love?" Celia shrieked, her mouth agape. "I do not love you," she snorted. "I will never love you..." She did not have time to react as Jack flew around the table and grabbed her, pressing his lips fiercely against hers.

'You must be mad,' he thought wryly to himself, pinning her arms to her side even though it pained his bad shoulder to do so. 'Or not, as th'case may be…'

"Mmpfh! Let me go," Celia hissed, trying to wriggle from his grasp. "Let me…" her words were cut off again by his lips and this time she found herself giving in to the desire sweeping her body once more as she returned the kiss. "I will never love you," she murmured as he broke away.

"I wasn't suggestin' that you do, or will," Jack soothed, holding his hands up placatingly as he backed away. "Just makin' an observation… an' here's another one. You've got one hell of a mess ter clear up before bedtime."

"Y-you expect me to clear this up?" she spluttered.

"It's yer duty, isn't it? An' besides, you made th'mess… With hindsight, it's a good job yer didn't change fer supper - it would've been a shame ter ruin a good dress."

"You… you…"

"Lovable, incorrigible rogue?" Jack suggested with an impish grin.

"Not quite the words I was thinking of, no," Celia sniped, her anger starting to deflate and her shoulders sagging as she looked around the cabin in despair at the mess.

"I'll go down th'galley, see if Toby's got some more food left fer me," Jack told her. "I'll send some hardtack fer you later, eh?"

"Oh… all right," she replied, rubbing her growling stomach as she watched Jack leave the cabin. Celia sank to the cabin deck as soon as the door shut and closed her eyes, covering her face with her hands as she struggled to contain the emotions welling up inside her. "Damn you," she sighed, licking her lips and tasting him on them. "Why do you do this to me…?"

"Cor! Yer escaped with yer life then, Cap'n!" Elliot exclaimed as Jack strode across the deck. "I thought she was goin' ter tear th'cabin apart."

"It sounded worse than it was," Jack lied. "Now get back ter work, yer scabrous dogs before I make you go in there an' help her clean up…" he barked, disappearing down the hatch which lead to the galley.

Celia brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and looked around the cabin, pleased with the progress she was making. 'I haven't lost my temper like that since…' she frowned, struggling to remember. 'Since I was a child,' she realised with shock. 'What am I going to do about him and Oliver?'

"Here you go," came Jack's voice, breaking her reverie. "Luckily Toby had made extra tonight but it's only th'dregs." He placed a tray on the table and the smell of stew wafted across the cabin, making Celia's stomach growl once more. "Come on, before it gets cold – again."

"Thank you," she replied shyly, not daring to look at him as she moved to the table. "I'm sorry…"

"Apology accepted," Jack grinned, sitting in his chair and propping his feet on the table as he pulled the stopper from a bottle of rum, watching her all the time. "Yer've done well cleanin' up," he observed.

"I bet the crew are all talking about it, aren't they?" Celia lamented as she wolfed down the thick, overcooked broth.

"Aye," he laughed. "Although they tend ter go a little quiet when I pass by…"

"Oh, no," she groaned, closing her eyes. "I'll never live it down."

"Nope," Jack agreed, still grinning. "At least not until th'next big argument between someone – unless that someone is th'pair of us again."

"I hope not," Celia fretted as she reached for some hardtack to mop up the remnants of the stew from the bowl.

"I dunno," he mused, stroking his braids. "I enjoy a good argument – especially th'makin' up afterwards…"

Celia glanced at him and then back down again as his devilish grin sent a shiver down her spine. "W-what do you expect of me?" she asked, her eyes fixed on a weevil going around in circles on the table.

"Same as I've always expected of you," he informed her. "An' I want th'same as I've always wanted… but only if you want th'same."

"And if I don't?" she whispered, gulping hard.

"Then you work your six months an' leave me broken hearted," he quipped.

"I see… I had better finish off clearing up – I'll never get some sleep otherwise." Celia stood, gathering the bowls and plates together and loading them on to the tray which Jack had brought up from the galley. "I'll take these down later, if that's all right?" she asked quietly.

"Fine by me," Jack replied, still watching her thoughtfully as he drunk from the bottle. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"W-what?"

"Is it just th'thought of makin' love that worries you?"

"It's sinful!" Celia exclaimed, righting the chair which she had thrown, relieved to see there was no damage to it. "Only a husband and wife can… you know."

"Accordin' to th'church," he reasoned. "What did people do before there were churches an' th'like – before there were priests an' clergymen ter tell them it was sinful?"

"But… there have always been churches and priests," she argued, finally looking him square in the eyes. "So it's always been sinful."

"Were you never tempted with Robert?"

"What?" Celia exploded. "What sort of question is that?"

"A reasonable one. You were engaged ter be married, so were you ever tempted or perhaps go further than so called propriety allowed?"

"It is none of your business," she snapped, turning away from him.

"So I'll take as a yes then, eh?"

"No!" she shouted, turning back to him. "He wanted to but I refused, so he left me! There, curiosity satisfied?" she cried, fleeing to the side cabin.

"Bugger!" Jack cursed, jumping to his feet and dashing across to the cabin. "Celia, I'm sorry…" He pulled a face as he heard sobs coming from within the private head and he pulled the drape back, frowning as she saw her on the floor with her face buried in her hands, sobbing. "Hey…" he soothed, squatting down and placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry – me an' my big mouth, eh?"

"Leave me alone," she gasped between sobs, shrugging her shoulder in an effort to move his hand.

"I'm not leavin' you in this state. Come on, luv," he crooned, kneeling on the cabin deck and winding his arms around her, holding her close as she cried into his chest. "I never thought…"

"You never do!"

"Guilty as charged," Jack sighed, cursing himself silently. "It seems a bit of an over-reaction, if you ask me," he mused when her sobs subsided. "He only had, what, a month ter wait?"

"H-he said that if I really l-loved him, I-I would have…" she hiccupped.

"Th'bastard," Jack muttered, stroking her shoulder length hair. "If he had really loved you, he wouldn't have tried ter blackmail you."

"I know," Celia sighed, a final sob shuddering through her body. "It doesn't lessen the pain though."

"No," Jack agreed, nuzzling the top of her head. "I loved someone once," he mused. "She was married though, an' her husband found out…"

"What happened?"

"He was a local squire with many connections. I had ter leave or he threatened ter ruin my father's shippin' company."

"Shipping company?" Celia echoed, pulling away and looking at him. "I was right about you being a gentleman then?"

"Aye," Jack chuckled quietly. "Yer too damned perceptive fer your own good, young lady…"

"So why did you turn pirate? Couldn't you have found work as a cartographer?"

"Survival," he shrugged. "Like most others who turn pirate. I was in Weymouth, lookin' fer honest work but happened ter be in th'wrong place at th'wrong time - a smuggler crew came in lookin' fer men, so I volunteered rather than be pressed. Stayed with them fer a few years, workin' my way up ter first mate, an then th'captain brought another ship an' made me her captain. But th'authorities were already onto us an' were lyin' in wait one night when both ships returned ter Weymouth. I managed ter escape by th'skin of my teeth, but Josiah got captured an' hanged from what I later heard. It was too dangerous ter remain in Weymouth, or even England, come ter that, so we sailed ter Dublin, picked up supplies an' then headed out here."

"Have you always gone for unattainable women?" Celia remarked, shifting in his arms to a more comfortable position.

"Aye," Jack sighed ruefully. "I suppose I have… come on, let's get up before we can't get up." He stood and held out his hand to help Celia to her feet then led the way back into the main cabin and to the stern seats, automatically wrapping his good arm around her and pulling her to him, smiling as she nestled against him once more.

"So how did you get to be a pirate?"

"Natural progression from smuggler," he reflected. "I soon found I made a good pirate an' once I acquired th'Pearl, I became one of th'best."

"And most modest…" Celia sniped teasingly, starting to recover from her earlier woe. "So who was this Barbossa?" she asked.

"Bloody hell," Jack laughed. "Yer certainly makin' th'most of this."

"You're the one who says you have to take the opportune moment," she smiled, enjoying the feel of his laughter as it vibrated through her body.

"It's long story – you sure yer up to it?"

"I am if you are…"

"All right," he sighed, settling himself back. "You asked fer it…"

"Celia…? You awake, luv?" Jack smiled as the only answer he got was a gentle snore and shifted carefully on the seat until he was able to lie her down on it. "You can't stay there th'night," he mused, padding over to the cabin door and calling for a crewman.

"Yer called, Cap'n?" Oliver enquired as he stepped into the cabin.

"Pick Celia up an' carry her to my bunk," Jack ordered, shrugging his waistcoat off and untying his sash, grateful that he had taken his boots off earlier that evening as his arm was hurting from having the young woman's weight pressing against it for so long.

"Aye, Cap'n," Oliver replied in a surly enough tone to make Jack look at him and frown. He bent down and picked her up, desperately wishing he did not have to do this. 'She said he hadn't had her,' a voice reminded him. 'But it looks as though he will nowdon't be daft – she's asleep!' Oliver gently placed her on top of the bunk and turned on his heel, avoiding Jack's eyes as he made his way out. "'Night, Cap'n," he called, almost as an afterthought.

"Goodnight," Jack murmured thoughtfully as he hoisted himself up onto the bunk, gently shoving Celia over to make room for him. "How am I goin' ter break you down?" he wondered, stroking her hair and sighing as she snuggled against him. "Guess I can't complain… I am making progress," he smiled as he slid his arm beneath her and held her close before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Celia prised open one eye and then the other and looked in the bright morning light at the sleeping form of the pirate captain squashed next to her, half smiling to herself as she mused how guiless he looked. 'Guiless, my foot,' she thought wryly, kissing the tip of his nose quite without thinking. 'Devil in disguise more like…' She smiled as she thought of how he had opened up to her the previous night, telling her about himself but the smile turned to a frown as she remembered her encounter with Oliver in the corridor of the hold. 'Oh, what am I going to do?' she thought, sighing with uncertainty. 'I can't exactly avoid Oliver, can I? Maybe I should tell Jackno, he might punish Oliver – or worse! Don't be silly, Jack isn't like that… oh, why can't my life be simple?' She turned over on to her back and stared up at the ceiling of the cabin, searching for an answer to her predicament in the gnarled and knotted wood. Celia started as Jack threw an arm over her midriff and snuggled up to her, sighing blissfully in his sleep. "Whoever said that those with a clear conscience sleeps the better, obviously never met you," she murmured beneath her breath as she rested her head against his and dozed for a time until she became aware of someone hovering over her and opened her eyes once more, arching an eyebrow as she looked at Jack, grinning down at her.

"Mornin', luv. Sleep well?"

"Very, thank you," Celia replied, pushing away a strand of his hair which was tickling her nose. "Did you?"

"Like a babe," he chuckled, lying back down beside her. "Y'know, when you do give yourself ter me, I'll have ter get Orchard ter make a bigger bunk. Nice though being this close ter you is, I don't think it will be comfortable night after night, eh?"

"That's one less job for him, then," she retorted, trying to extract herself from his arm snaked around her waist.

"Ah, yer wound me," Jack grinned, running his free hand through his loose hair, his bandana having come off during the night. "One thing, luv. What I told yer last night stays within this cabin, savvy?"

"Why? What is so important about no-one knowing your former life?"

"I told you, I like ter keep an air of mystery about me," he evaded. "Obviously, th'crew know all about Barbossa – some of them were around at th'time."

"Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?" Celia mused, turning on her side to look at him. "Something more about this woman you loved?"

"Like I said… mystery," Jack smiled enigmatically. "Now come on, young lady, I have a ship ter captain an' you have a cabin ter finish cleanin' up."

"Oh, don't remind me," she groaned, covering her face with her hands. "At least we provided the crew with their nightly entertainment," she chuckled wryly.

"Aye," Jack agreed with a laugh. "Keep 'em goin' all day, that will."

"I think I'll take my time with the cabin, so I don't have to face their jokes and ribbing."

"You will anyway, yer've been workin' too hard."

"Yes, Cap'n," Celia smiled, sitting up and waiting for him to move so she could get off the bunk. "Thank you for not throwing me in the brig."

"You'll have ter behave a lot worse than that before I do," Jack winked as he climbed down and ambled over to the private head.

Celia smiled to herself as she padded to the main cabin, but winced when she saw the state it was still in. She picked up the rest of the bowls and plates, stacking them onto the tray and sending thanks that nothing was damaged. She did not want to face Toby and explain why his utensils were damaged. 'Don't be silly,' she thought. 'He already knows whyohI'm going to have to take these to the galley.' Celia sighed to herself, jumping as Jack crept up behind her.

"You comin' fer breakfast?"

"I was hoping you'd be wanting it here," she replied with a rueful smile.

"Got ter face them sometime," he shrugged as he sat down and pulled on his boots, trying not to react as his shoulder protested at the movement.

"I suppose so," Celia sighed, picking the tray up and carrying it to the door, waiting for Jack to open it before taking a deep breath and stepping onto the main deck, squinting in the sunlight.

"Mornin' Cap'n, Miss Celia," Elliot called from the rigging. "Beautiful day, ain't it?"

"Very," Jack replied as he weaved and swayed across to the hatch and disappeared into the bowels of his ship, leaving Celia to struggle with the laden tray down the steep steps.

"Here," Oliver smiled, taking the tray from her hands and carrying it down with ease. "Are yer all right?"

"Thank you," she replied, forcing a smile as she followed him. "I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"

"I just thought… what happened last night… yer might not be feelin' so good."

"We had an argument, that is all," she shrugged, frowning at his over protection. "Why wouldn't I be all right?"

"I had ter put yer in his bunk, like," the Irishman admitted. "I thought…"

"I see," she snapped, snatching the tray back off him. "Well you have nothing to worry about on that subject, Mister Fernan! Not that it's any of your business!"

"Celia! No! That's not what I meant," he called as she stormed off along the dimly lit corridor. "Bugger!" he cursed, smashing his fist against the bulkhead and wincing as pain shot through his hand.

"Ya want ter watch yerself," Gabriel Jennings warned as he approached his friend. "Th'cap'n won't take too kindly t'yer makin' eyes at his woman."

"It's none of yer damned business!" Oliver shouted, pushing past the other man and stomping off in the opposite direction.

"H-here you a-are, Toby," Celia stammered as she careered into the galley, shaken by the encounter with Oliver. She had been hoping to avoid him and the realisation that he had been the one to put her in Jack's bunk made her heart sink.

"Could yer wash them fer me?" the burly cook enquired. "I'll save yer th'best of th'porridge an' some bacon, eh?"

"Bacon?" she echoed. "Yes please. What's the occasion?"

"Yer need feedin' up – I've seen more flesh on a swab," he teased. "B'sides… yer need ter build yer energy back up after last night's little performance!"

"I might have known," Celia groaned, rolling her eyes, a smile twitching the corners of her lips as she started washing the dirty bowls.

"An' if I fatten yer up, we might get even more shows like that," Toby laughed. "Perhaps I should sharpen th'knives…?"

"Very funny," Celia replied, still trying to suprress a grin. "Although I think it might be better if you sharpen the edges of the plates…"

"Now yer talkin'," the cook laughed, doling out the porridge into the bowls as Celia handed them to him. "Can yer take these in, there's a love?"

"All right," she sighed, her stomach churning at the thought of facing the rest of the crew. She knew the teasing she got from Tobias would pale into insignificance compared to what they would say to her and she hoped that Jack was already in the mess. Celia wiped her hands dry on her breeches and picked up a tray full of steaming bowls and carried it to the mess, hesitating for a brief moment before walking in, looking around briefly for the captain and not finding him.

"Woohoo! If it ain't our very own hellcat!" one of the men called out as the mess erupted in a volley of whistles and catcalls.

"Yer want me ter improve yer aim, sweetheart? I didn't see many bruises on th'cap'n?"

"They're well hidden," came her riposte and she bobbed a curtsy, drawing more laughter from the crew, figuring that if you couldn't beat them, you might as well join them.

"What's th'noise about?" Jack enquired, poking his head around the mess door.

"Nothin', Cap'n," Gabriel Jennings replied, the innocent look on his face belied by his impish grin. "Just th'usual fun an' laughter."

"Celia…?"

"Nothing, Captain," she shrugged with a smile. "Men will be men, boys will be boys…"

"Y'mean I have men amongst my crew?" Jack asked teasingly. "Where?"

"I'm sure you could find one or two if you looked hard enough," Celia teased, poking her tongue out at Gabriel who was doing the same to her.

"Come on," Adam Butler grumbled. "Some of us are still waitin' fer our grub."

"Sorry," Celia apologised, picking up the tray once more and hurrying from the mess to the galley, giving Jack a brief smile as she passed him.

"Yo should leave her alone," Noah hissed, giving his crewmate a surly glance. "Yo're always on at her."

"If she don't like it, she can leave," Butler shrugged, making sure his captain could not hear what he was saying. "Don't see why she's on board anyway – apart from th'obvious."

"Th'cap'n has his reasons," Jacob Sumner put in. "Ours is not ter question him."

"Here we go," Celia smiled, a little too brightly, as she returned with another tray full. She placed it down on the trestle table and handed Jack his first and then walked over to give Butler his oats.

"Should have left him 'til last," Noah muttered under his breath. "He ain't worth special treatment."

"Shut it," Adam hissed. "Or I'll be seein' yer later."

"I'll be waitin'," the black man assured him, flashing Celia a smile as she handed him his bowl.

"That's enough, both of yer," Myles Burford warned, glancing at his captain who was watching them all carefully.

Celia carried on giving out the rest of the bowls, her eyes downcast, her earlier good humour having diminished with the obvious bad feeling between the men that she felt she had caused.

"You gettin' yours?" Jack enquired, taking his attention away from his crewmen for a moment to address the young woman.

"I-I'll have it in the galley," she whispered, dashing out of the door.

"Butler!" Jack barked, frowning angrily at him across the mess. "Just what exactly did yer say to her?"

"I didn't say nothin', Cap'n!" he protested, looking hurt. "Alls I did was chivvy her along fer th'rest of th'grub. Yer heard me yerself."

"So why is she like this then?"

"Well, what d'yer expect, Cap'n? She's a woman – they're all th'same. Nice one minute an' snappin' yer head off th'next."

"Hmm," Jack mused, making a mental note to question Celia after breakfast. He knew Butler had a reputation for being an awkward cuss at times, he did not want Celia to be a victim of the man's brusque temperament.

"That's all of them fed," Celia told Toby as she set the tray down, picking up her bowl which he was holding out to her. "Thank you," she smiled.

"Yer gettin' quite th'little carer, ain't yer?" the burly cook chuckled. "Matt told us how yer managed ter stitch his cut th'other day."

"Oh, grief, yes! I was terrified whilst I was doing it – thought I was going to sew his skin to his bones!"

"So, yer goin' ter be helpin' him, next time we do battle?"

"Y-yes," Celia shuddered, not wanting to think about the sheer terror of cannons pounding into the ship and splinters flying around like daggers seeking a victim. "Do you hit many ships?" she asked, praying the answer would be negative.

"As many as we come across," he told her, a sympathetic smile on his lips. "Sometimes we can go weeks without findin' a good target. Sometimes we can come across one or two in a week."

"My compliments ter th'cook," Jack drawled as he carried his bowl in to the galley. "One or two, what?"

"Ships. Miss Celia was askin' if we hit many ships."

"Ah," Jack nodded. "I know yer don't like it," he shrugged at her, eyeing her carefully and thinking she looked a little drawn, despite her earlier joviality. "You all right?"

"Hmm? Y-yes, I'm fine," she assured him, avoiding his intense gaze.

"I'll see ter th'bacon," Toby mused, turning his back on them and tending to the pan filled with the rashers.

"What has Butler said ter you?" Jack enquired. "Does he give yer trouble?"

"No! No, he doesn't," Celia replied quickly, sighing as Jack continued to regard her closely. "I just get the feeling he doesn't like me, that's all."

"He doesn't like anyone, least of all women," Jack told her. "Treats them like dirt."

"Why?" she wondered, pausing in her eating to finally look at him properly.

"Don't know," Jack shrugged. "He's been like this since I've known him at least."

"Longer," Toby put in, having know the gruff pirate for many years. "Between you, me an' these four walls, he was double crossed by a woman who stole his share of some treasure, an' made off with whom he thought was his best mate."

"Ah," Jack winced, pulling a face. "Still no reason ter hate them as much as he does."

"Maybe it's just that you love women so much, Cap'n," the cook winked knowingly, chortling to himself. "Yer find it hard ter understand a man who doesn't like 'em th'same, eh?"

"That's probably it," Jack chuckled, raising his eyebrows as Oliver Fernan came into the galley. "Problem, Mouse?"

"Ah… no, Cap'n," he replied, startled at coming upon both Celia and Jack unexpectedly. "Just come fer my grub."

"I wondered why you weren't in th'mess. Why weren't you in th'mess?"

"I-I had some business I had ter sort out," the Irishman evaded, avoiding Celia's eyes.

"Don't be late fer supper," his captain warned him, wagging a stern finger. "Toby can't pander ter everyone who decides they want ter eat late."

"I won't. Sorry, Cap'n, Toby…" he grabbed a bowl of the last scrapings of porridge and hurried from the galley.

Celia blushed as Jack turned his attention to her once more, grateful that she was standing by the galley stove and could at least blame that.

"What's th'story with you an' Mouse?" he asked, folding his arms as he leaned against the bulkhead.

"N-nothing," she replied, praying she sounded more convincing than she felt. "We're friends, that is all."

"On his part as well?"

Celia baulked, recalling their kisses the previous day in the hold and she blushed deeper. "As far as I know, yes," she replied, congratulating herself on managing to keep her voice steady.

"All right," Jack nodded, not entirely convinced. "Is that bacon ready yet?" he demanded, changing the subject.

"Just about done, Cap'n," his cook assured him, taking out some rashers and putting them on a couple of plates, along with some stale bread. "Here yer go."

"Ta," Jack grinned, picking a slice up in his fingers. "Ow! It's bloody hot!"

"It would be," Toby sighed, rolling his eyes and grinning at Celia who smiled thinly in return, her mind on other things. "Eat up then," he chivvied, making a mental note to have a word with the tall Irishman. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to be drummed off the ship by an irate captain.

"Cap'n! Cap'n!" Thomas Frazer called as he skidded into the galley, having left his watch post. "Land's been sighted."

"Good!" Jack beamed, following him out, plate still in hand, eating the bacon as he strode along the corridor. "Made better time than I thought," he mumbled through a full mouth.

"Aye – th'weather was fer us, that's fer sure," the master gunner agreed. "Just why have we come down here?" He and his crewmates had spent plenty of time during the cruise south pondering why a privateer's treasure from years ago was so important that their captain made haste to Grenada – a place some of them had never even heard of, let alone been to.

"Followin' a hunch, Mister Frazer," Jack smiled, handing his empty plate to the ship's lad, Peter Swain, son of Matthias, before climbing the steps to the main deck then making his way to the quarterdeck, licking his fingers as he went.

"I still reckon this is folly," Joshamee Gibbs commented as his captain joined him. "We haven't even come across any ships ter sweeten th'men if nothin' comes of this venture…"

"We'll hit some on th'way back," Jack assured him confidently as he took out his spyglass and put it to his eye, scanning the horizon until the landmass of Grenada loomed large in his sight. "Stop yer frettin'."

"Well one of us has to," Gibbs muttered darkly, taking his hip flask from his pocket and cursing as he found it was empty.

"You drink as much as yer worry," Jack observed, still looking through the glass. "Mister Sumner. Keep bearin' south," he ordered to the stand-in helmsman.

"Bearin' south, aye, Cap'n," Jacob acknowledged, keeping the helm steady.

"Loose as much sail as she'll take," Jack barked. "Peter, get th'rest of th'men out here – I don't care if they've finished their bacon or not."

"Aye, Sir," the young boy called, already disappearing down the hatch, returning a few minutes later with the rest of the crew following behind and soon the Black Pearl was a hive of activity.

Jack watched carefully as Oliver Fernan raised the French flag up the mast, frowning as the Irishman eyed Celia as she made her way to the main cabin. 'I'm goin' ter have ter have a word with you…' he mused, stroking his braids thoughtfully. 'Either that or leave yer in Saint Georges…' He strode down the quarterdeck steps and made his way over to where Oliver was working, nodding his head as his crewman looked up, indicating for him to follow.

"Matty, take over will yer?" he asked, yielding the rope he had been hauling to Mathhias Swain. "What's wrong, Cap'n?"

"You like Celia."

Oliver bulked, recognising it as a statement and not a question and nodded his head, half dreading what was coming next.

"You know you have no chance," Jack drawled. "She's mine, savvy? Now I don't want ter lose you, yer a damn fine helmsman, as well as a good mate ter these men. So if you take it no further, I'm willin' ter let yer stay on board, eh?"

"Take it no further, Cap'n?" Oliver puzzled, wondering if Celia had told him about the kisses they had stolen the previous day, but knowing that he would not be standing on the deck if his captain had known – he would be locked in the brig, or worse. "I don't follow…"

"You're not ter let Celia know you like her, an' if she already does know, then yer to pretend she means nothin', savvy?"

"But…" Oliver stopped dead when he saw the look in his captain's eyes. A look that was not seen very often by the crew, but they knew better than to push him further when they saw it – if they wanted to remain both on board the ship and in one piece. "Aye, Cap'n," he sighed eventually. "Is that all?"

"That is all, Mister Fernan. But I shall be watchin' you, savvy?"

"Savvy…" Oliver turned on his heel and stomped over to where the men were continuing to haul on the rope, glancing at Jack as he took up his position once more. "Bastard," he muttered darkly beneath his breath. "She doesn't want yer."

"Mouse," Matthias Swain hissed. "No woman is worth th'sort of trouble yer'd get into if ya went after her, eh?"

"Ain't so sure about that," Oliver replied. "She's just a plaything ter him – I'd treat her right."

"Th'cap'n won't misuse her, an' yer know it," John Orchard put in from behind Oliver. "B'sides, it's too late."

"No it ain't," Oliver chuckled wryly. "He ain't taken her yet – she told me herself."

"Bloody hell!" Swain exclaimed, looking back at the tall Irishman. "She could be lyin'…"

"Lyin'?" Oliver snorted. "She doesn't have a lyin' bone in her body."

"True enough," the ship's doctor agreed, nodding his head. "Just be careful, eh?"

"I will be," Oliver promised. "As quiet as a mouse…"