Elizabeth awoke with a headache. Never had she ever been angry with the sun, yet she felt it now as the light danced across her eyelids. "Urg," she rolled away. She had been tipsy before, but her decorum had kept her from acting as wild as she had last night. Confound that pirate. When Elizabeth tried to scrounge up the details, she could only think of challenging Jack and spending some time hugging her chamber pot. What an embarrassing mess. At least the rest of the crew didn't have to witness… Wait a minute, the crew… how did she get back to her chambers? Her tired eyes opened as she examined a certain captain laying on the prep table.

"Jack!" she shouted, sitting up.

"Who? Wassat? Lizzie?" He sat up, eyeing her fully, "Well now, that's a welcome sight to wake up to."

"What?" she looked down, swiftly pulling her linens to cover herself, "How dare you!"

"Oh, come now; nothing I haven't seen before. You were so eager to be out of those borrowed clothes. Must agree with you there, who knows where-"

"Jack!" Her face grew hot, "You didn't!"

And suddenly, he was very glad he didn't. "Didn't what?"

"You know very well what! There can only be one reason you're in my chambers this early and-"

"And it's because I was keeping your lovely hair out of harm's way. I brought you on to this ship. I don't intend to have you die on it. Unlike some people."

They both stared at each other for a tense moment.

"…You really didn't?" her voice was small.

"No, love," his voice matched hers in strength, "I didn't. And seeing as you've survived the night, I'll be on my merry way." He hopped off the table and began his strut, "That is, unless -"

"No!" She squealed before composing herself, "No… Good day, Captain."

"Good day," he smiled at the tip of his hat, "Missus Turner." With that, he closed the door.

Missus Turner, Missus Turner, Jack kept repeating to himself as if the words were a talisman against the wicked memories from the night before. She's not just married mate, she's married to a man you fought beside, someone like a brother. Well, that was a weak argument if he ever knew one. He was after all a pirate: Take what ye can, give nothing back. No, the crux of the matter wasn't young, undead William. No matter how nice of a lad he was. It was her. It had always been her. He took another swig. Oh, to be as young and inexperienced as Lizzie. This little drink would let him forget her nubile form and the weight of her. His hand just under her-

"Mister Gibbs."

"Aye, Captain?"

"We should be about an hour from port. Would you be so kind as to steer us in? I have other matters that demand my attention."

"Of course, Cap'n." Gibbs nodded as he took hold of the ship's wheel.

Other matters indeed. Jack didn't know why his blood ran so damned hot. From all he could gather there were quite a many things he'd like to forget. His search of oblivion followed one of two avenues: the drink in his hand or the woman at his side. Often times they were in combination, for one alone was never enough. He lay on the bed in his captain's quarters, arms folded behind his locks, hat abandoned on the hook by the door. There was something about that girl. Something that made him feel weak. Maybe it would be better to leave her on the Dutchman. At least then, it seemed, that both of them could get what they wanted: some semblance of their lives before. Some semblance of the joy they could gather from their beds being warmed by another. But Jack knew, that warmth compared not to the fire they could have known from each other.

As Elizabeth tucked her feet into her boots, she felt the need to address her misgivings with the captain. She had judged him rather cruelly. The man had only kept her safe. Heaven only knows what could have happened if she'd run amuck on the ship without his surveillance. He deserved to be thanked for his kindness, and for his …discretion. She recalled how he hadn't kissed her once before when she leaned in for it. "I'm proud of you, Jack," she'd said. And yet, it had made her wonder. Why hadn't he kissed her? Such thoughts stewed in her brain, culminating in her shackling him to the mast in a blistering kiss. And even that kiss was not of his doing. It was all her own. Guilt and self-loathing spread through her veins. She knew what it was it about her that made him want to take his rum and run in the opposite direction. She knew of the events that had transpired to lead them to where they were today. And yet, she couldn't help but ask herself, Why any other woman but me?

"Good day Mister Gibbs," Elizabeth stepped out on deck.

"A fine day, Miss Elizabeth," Joshamee smiled. "Should be heading ashore soon."

"Glad to hear it! Should I inform the captain?"

"Aye, if it pleases you. 'Tis likely he doesn't want to be disturbed though. Something about 'matters to attend to.'"

"Ah. Well, I'll just give a knock on his door and be quick about it."

Joshmee nodded and continued steering while Elizabeth strolled to the back of the boat. She was still developing her sea legs. She wondered if this was how Jack had come to develop his trademark swagger. I probably look as much out of place on this boat as he does on land, she tittered to herself. As she approached his door, her hand aloft, she decided not to knock. Why should she? He had caught her unaware this morning. Perhaps it would be fun to catch him singing to himself or annoy him as he tried to chart a course. She smiled then, swiftly pressing the door open in anticipation. What Elizabeth saw was not on her short list of speculations. Jack's broad hand stopped pumping around his member as he sat up and covered himself with his shirt.

"Elizabeth!" He stared at her with previously unseen vulnerability.

Her heart leapt up into her throat as she leaned back on the door. She heard it shut under her weight.

"Lizzie," Jack swallowed in confusion, "what are you doing?"

Her back remained against the door, "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- to interrupt you…"

"Yes, well…" Jack looked down and the floor and back to her flushed face, "the fact remains that you've shut my door. With you on the other side of it."

"Pretend that I'm not here."

"Why? Lizzie, is something happening out there? Are you running from-"

"No," her answer was rather breathy for her taste. "I just wanted some retribution for this morning."

"Ah. If this is about vengeance, I'll have no part of it." He smiled, "Say what it is you want, Lizzie. Say it and you just might get it."

Infuriating man. "I-" she inhaled, "I want you to finish."

Jack peeled back his shirt, presenting his impressive shaft before her. He trailed his palm across it slowly. "Now," his searing eyes met with hers, "was that the nicest way you could ask?"

"Please," was all she could stammer in her flustered state. Curse her trained courtesies.

"As you wish," Jack smiled as he lay back against the wall, one hand stroking himself while the other palmed his sack beneath his pants. He kept eye contact with her as he did so, his eyes closing every now and again from pleasure. Elizabeth chewed her lip. She had heard gossip of it, but she'd never seen the act of someone touching themselves. She felt dirty, like she wanted to look away, but his strong gaze ensnared her. It was almost as if she were more tempted to look there than at the activities below. It was if she were validated, truly seen by the man who would nary give her a kiss. Somehow, he was prostrating himself before her. Her breath grew in time with his ministrations, though she did nothing but watch. Her knees grew weak and her shoulders grew numb as she held out against the door. His moans echoed in her ears until she could feel herself grow slippery.

"Do you want me to cum, Lizzie? Would you like that?"

"Yes," she swallowed, "I want it. Cum for me…"

Those words were enough to send him spiraling, spending himself into his palm.

The two spent several moments afterward in silence; each catching their breath, their minds just beginning to conceive what had occurred, and where it would go from here.

Elizabeth was about to be the first to speak when she was interrupted by Joshamee's, "LAND HO!"