A/N: I recently took another glance at this story and realized how poorly written it was. So I've decided to polish it up one piece at a time. I don't know if anyone is still reading it, but for my sanity, I am going to retool it chapter by chapter. Maybe I will be struck with new inspiration and finish it.

Disclaimer: I own neither Pirates of the Caribbean nor any of it's characters, names or locations. This is a simple exercise in creativity that I will not try to sell or profit from. All credit goes to Disney.

The mattress groaned its protest as Jack flopped down on top of it. His body dropped like a stone, knocking pillows aside as his back hit the bed. He'd just managed to escape the party his crew was having, claiming he needed to go over charts. This was partly true, however his motives for leaving were in actuality more selfish. It got tiring pretending he was drunk all of the time. It was true enough that his swagger had become habit, as did most of his mannerisms after a decade. But the bone in his hair hurt like hell when he laid down and the kohl was a nightmare to clean off of sheets. Not to mention how long it took to shrug out of the many layers he wore. Jack endured it all because it was an important part of his façade. It was critical that everyone thought him a bit daft. People tended to underestimate the crazy, providing him with plenty of opportunity to take people by surprise. Still, as he shrugged off his boots and went to work on his sash, he wondered occasionally if he could afford to be a bit less eclectic.

His thoughts wandered to his first mate in the next cabin. Through the shared wall of their rooms he could hear her voice murmuring something to her sister. Jack wondered what Ana was telling her. It was clear that the lass didn't know their history, though she rightfully suspected something. Everyone on the ship suspected, but all knew better than to ask. Jack was thankful for it.

He felt a sort of pang form in his chest as he heard Ana moving around, presumably preparing for bed. He had seldom done right by her in the past. On his quest for revenge, he had developed a one-track mind, neglecting the world around him as he plotted his revenge. Though Ana was the person he undoubtedly cared for most, he had let their relationship fall wayside. She believed he had cheated on her. Jack had done no such thing, though he wouldn't lie and say he hadn't planted seeds of doubt. He flirted with tavern wenches and sailors' wives shamelessly for information. Women tended to be the most well-informed, preview to information they overheard from husbands and customers. With a wink and a smile Jack could pry the information out of most, including information on Barbossa and the Pearl.

He had confirmed Ana's suspicions with his foolish silence, thinking it was easier this way. Without attachments he was free to pursue the ship his way. So he left her, taking her fishing boat with him. It took a year or so before they met in Tortuga that fateful day. He knew a scorned woman when he saw one, and Ana's ear-ringing slaps on the deck had more to do with her broken heart then her missing boat. But she had come along anyway, even coerced the crew members into saving him from the noose. Even now, she agreed to be his first mate, taking orders and keeping the ship running. Jack had let her bring her sister along to get back into her good graces and typically kept his teasing to a minimum. It hadn't worked. She was as cold to him as she had been the first day, keeping him at arm's reach with her professional mannerism and indifference.

But there was one moment that had convinced Jack she wasn't over him. It had lasted maybe half a minute before it had ended. Nevertheless, Jack replayed it in his head, going over every nuance of it, looking for a clue. When they had pulled him out of the water around Port Royal, Ana had draped his coat over his shoulders and returned his hat uttering only, "Captain, the Black Pearl is yours," before she had backed off. Ana knew how important the ship was to him; he had talked about it often during their time together. The warmth in the small smile she wore as he took the wheel suggested that she was happy for him, maybe even proud of him. It meant all the world. The smile had disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving him with his ship and Ana in the flesh but not spirit. He wondered how much it would take to make her forgive him.

He suspected it was more than he had to offer.

A knock on the door startled him as he was pulling his shirt off over his head. The beads in his hair impeded his progress, catching on the neck of his shirt and sticking. He cursed, stumbling over his feet as the boat rocked. The knock came again, louder. He struggled to the door, peaking out of the neck of his shirt, assuming it was Gibbs who might help him out of this mess. Instead Anamaria gave him a bemused look from her place in the doorway.

"Need help?" she asked amusedly. Jack nodded, hiding his embarrassment.

"Thanks," he said as she reached for him. She nodded as she concentrated on untangling the beads from the fabric, gently coaxing the article of clothing over his head. Her fingers skimmed the bare flesh of his shoulders as she pulled off the offending article, sending Goosebumps across his body.

"There," she announced, shaking the shirt out. Jack shook his head like a dog, persuading his hair back into its normal space. He watched Ana fold his shirt carefully before putting it on top of one of the drawers in the corner. She turned back to him silently, catching her lip between her teeth. It was a tell-tell sign that she was contemplating saying something to him, but too nervous to do it.

"Did you need something?" he asked her.

"Aye," she walked back toward him. "I need to talk to you Jack."

"Alright. Go ahead." he gestured for her to begin as he kicked his boots under a table laden with maps and navigating tools.

"About something personal." she clarified. Jack felt his stomach lurch.

"Would this have anything to do with the fact that I kissed you an hour back?" he asked lightly, covering for his nervousness.

"That would be the reason," Ana confirmed, worrying her lip between her teeth again.

"Are you going to tell me it was inappropriate?" he kicked a chair toward her.

She refused to sit, but leaned back stiffly against the wall. "No. Though it was inappropriate…" she crossed her arms underneath her breasts, drawing Jack's attention to the cotton slip she was wearing as nightclothes.

He cleared his throat. "What were you going to say then?"

"I don't know," Jack raised his brow. "I mean--I suppose I just needed closure."

"Closure?" Jack sighed. Closure was not a good sign.

"Aye. We ended on a bit of a bad note." she smiled wryly at the understatement. "And if I'm to be working under you, I need to know why we ended." one hand came up to fiddle with a tendril of hair that had come loose from its braid.

"You're the one who ended it, love. You tell me." he watched her shift her posture, getting defensive.

"Don't blame me. I thought you were cheating on me!"

"I believe you mentioned that," Jack confirmed, gearing himself up for the impending fight.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Were you?" Ah, at last they came to it. Jack contemplated his answer for a moment.

"I won't deny that I wasn't treating you like I should have. But I never cheated on you, Ana." he said at last.

"Then why leave?" she asked softly.

"For the Pearl." He said honestly.

"Of course." Ana scoffed. "I never did compare to this ship." she sounded hurt. "I don't know why I thought I could."

Jack regarded her quietly. She was rightfully insecure about the place she held in his heart. He had never been forthcoming with how he felt for her. He had been young, selfish and hell-bent on making a name for himself. But he had grown some, learned some and his name was rapidly spreading through the Caribbean, gaining infamy with every plunder. Yet he still wasn't satisfied. It was becoming clear to him that wealth and fame weren't all they were cut out to be. And watching that little whelp of a boy, Will Turner, slobber over the governor's daughter had put into perspective something he had long ago shoved to the back burner. Not to mention the fact that he had been forced to watch her stride about the ship for months now without being able to touch her.

"Ana," she was blinking rapidly now, her already swollen eyes beginning to fill again with tears. Jack crossed to her, coming to a halt not a foot in front of her. "We were best friends. I still consider you my best mate. Can't we go back to that?"

"No," a tear or two leaked over, leaving wet trails down her brown cheeks. "You changed us from friends to something more the first time you kissed me all that time ago. And there's no going back now."

"What are you saying love?" Jack whispered.

"I'm saying that perhaps it's time I left you and your ship be." she wiped her face.

"You can't leave this ship without the captain's permission." Jack told her. "And I say you're not going anywhere." he said with authority.

"Sparrow, you selfish bastard!" she exclaimed. "You can't just put me up on a shelf and pick me up at your leisure! I'm down with waiting for you." she looked seconds away from hitting him.

"Then I'd better pay you back for all the waiting, eh?"

"Wha--" Jack cut her off by pushing her against the back wall of his cabin, trapping her body under his. Without hesitation or second thought, he claimed her mouth with his own.