Elizabeth stirred to a now familiar type of headache. The gulls outside were calling and there was something heavy on her midsection nagging at her consciousness. Her eyes suddenly shot open as she recalled the hazy events of the evening. Quick as a flint ignites gunpowder she stumbled out of the bed and stared, bordering on accusation, at one Captain Jack Sparrow. As she stood in the nude, she felt the coldness of the air about her, a stark contrast to the flame of a man still asleep in her bed. His bed? The inn's bed. What had she said? What had she did? What had made her so- so brazen? Had she wanted it? Had she liked it? With her thoughts of the night's events swirling about in her recovering mind, she had decided that yes, she very much did. But that still left much of their current situation to be understood. He was, as he had demonstrated to her irritation, the captain of the ship. And she was, as she had stated, not just another notch in a long list that she was uncertain Jack bothered to keep. So, what in fact were they? Ah, he'd said it was a parley. An armistice. A truce between warring sides. She could deal with that. As long as he didn't expect anything more. After all, she had just broken apart from her undead, nary present, husband of five years. She felt the stirrings of remorse at that. Some sort of guilt for a promise un-kept. Her heart clenched. All the more reason she had to find him. Was he still waiting on her? It was hardly likely he could gain access to other people of interest. Yet, she had all the possibilities in the word. Would Will expect her to be faithful for decades until the end of time? She put herself in his shoes and felt her heart sink. Perhaps he was. But that was Will. He was the boy obsessed with the girl just out of reach. He'd already waited for decades on her and he could wait several more. But she… She was the girl obsessed with… She glanced at the pirate no longer asleep in her bed. His observant, dark eyes startled her.

"Good morning, Miss Swann," Jack spoke slowly, as if to a frightened animal. "I trust you recall the events of the evening?"

Elizabeth swallowed against her dry throat. She wanted to hide her skin but would not show weakness. "I do. And you, Captain?"

A crooked smile came to his blank face at that. "Aye," he glanced down. He looked a tad frightened himself as he found her eyes, "And I trust you have no objects to throw at me or expletives to yell?"

She laughed through her nose, "No, Jack. At least, not at this hour."

An honest smile she'd never seen before now grazed his face, "Good."

She reached for her clothing on the floor. "We should get dressed and find our crew."

His gaze surveyed her swiftly one last time. "Right," he stood, himself absent of clothing.

She was about to avert her eyes when she caught sight of a purpling near his abdominal V.

"See something you like, Lizzie?" Jack inclined his head slowly.

She'd been staring. "No!" she sputtered, affronted, "I mean, Jack, there's something that wasn't there last night. Did I bruise you? It looks awfully strange. Tendrils like ink almost…" Her finger reached out in curiosity before she pulled it back.

He looked down casually once, then again as his eyes grew wide. "That is odd…" He pondered.

"Isn't that," she looked to his face, "isn't that where Blackbeard cut you?"

"Mayhaps," Jack swallowed. "Probably no correlation, love." He swiftly lifted his britches to cover the spot. "You simply kneed me in your sleep."

"You're hiding from me, Jack." Her eyes narrowed as she pressed a finger to his pectorals, "Don't you hide a thing, or this parley of ours won't work."

He stood in silence for a moment as he examined her serious face.

"He didn't say anything to you as he did it? Something like a curse? The man kept your ship in a bottle. Heavens knows what he could do to a body."

He recalled the words that sank to him as he swam for his life at sea, I'll get you for this! You and everyone you've ever loved!

"No," Jack's pirate lips grew to a thin line, "nothing at all."