So obviously i know a thousand sorries won't help this situation. This time of the year is hell for me trying to have enough time to develope stories, much less type and upload them. But i'm relying on my faithful readers to be patient with me (as usual) and i trust you won't be too angry...

enjoy!

(i'll try and update it again ASAP. no promises... :-/ )

-InnerSmile

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It was Kings Day in Port Royal and although they were across the vast sea from England, they loyal Englishmen of the Caribbean honored their distant ruler. Many of the wealthy noblemen were kind enough to release their house staff in order to allow them time with their family and festivities. Marty had a hard time making his way through the busy streets, even so late into the night! So many men and women were singing and dancing, drinking and laughing, making the best of their holiday that the small man could hardly see where his feet were taking him. He was already late and frustrated that it was taking him so long to get to the meeting spot. It was the day after his encounter with the determined George Mayfield. He was very daunted by the task given to him by the imposing figure of a man. So when George requested he meet him again at one of the old docks, near the Swann Mansion to act out their plan, Marty held his breath for fear of coming late or even saying the wrong thing. Marty may have sailed the 7 seas, fought off pirates flying enemy colors, but he still shook in the presence of Mr. Mayfield. His mere stare made him uneasy.

Marty drew closer to the docks and could see the two figures, George and David, standing fairly close together and he could hear their whispers. Because the old dock was hardly ever in use anymore and the two tall buildings on either side of it secluded it from the rest of the square, it was an easy place to be unseen and quickly forgotten about. Curiosity got the best of him and Marty couldn't resist but to listen. Quickly he shielded himself from the two companions and went into the shadows of a near by building.

"Don't you think you're taking his a little far George?… I mean, to take a life is – is tampering with nature." David's voice was firm but obviously strained.

Marty saw the taller, larger shadow turn on the stationary one. "No we'll have no need for him once the job is done. For all we know he could go straight to the authorities after we've… after our mission is completed." There was silence for a moment before George spoke again. "Don't be such a weak minded man… Remember that all of this is for the betterment of Elizabeth – and that Turner fellow…well…he can rot in hell." The last few words were said with such distain and dislike that it made Marty's stomach churn. He felt his heart pounding in his ears and he knew now that George was planning on kidnapping Will Turner's daughter. That was it! At that moment Marty slipped away from the sheltered ally and moved as quickly as he could into the throng of men and rowdy woman in the street, unnoticed by the two men.

"Where is that weasel?" George spat.

David sighed and shifted his feet. "I don't know George…this whole situation is making me feel…feel…"

"Just leave then! I don't need you anyway." It was a childish remark but at that moment George was a childish man. Unknowingly he stopped his foot and his tall, imposing stature was reduced to a fitful young boy. David looked at him silently then turned away and began to join the jovial people nearby.

"David don't-" George began to yell after his friend, but the shorter (more sensible) man turned around and interrupted him before he could finish.

"Don't worry…my lips are sealed." He turned away and shook his head. No, he wouldn't be the one to rat out on George but he certainly wasn't going to be the one to help him. David was his friend only when George felt he needed one.

George stood there with his hands deep in his pockets. He looked around him observing the townspeople and their festivities. He grinded his teeth and gripped his hands tightly into a fists…. "That dwarf isn't coming…" Finally he stopped, walked towards the dock then turning sharply into an ally, making his way down the street but covertly – toward the hill – toward the governor's mansion – toward Elizabeth. "I'll do it myself"

Will and Elizabeth had joined the Governor along with a few amounts of esteemed friends for a lovely dinner. Now that night had fallen some time ago, they lay in each other's arms, letting the brisk breeze outside whip the curtains in and out of the open window. Elizabeth knew rain was due and the winds confirmed her suspicions but the gales were coming from the east and if the rain decided to show up, it would merely be a pleasant warm shower, and avoid coming in their bedroom. Will stirred faintly as his nose brushed Elizabeth's hair. He turned his face a little to lay his chin a bit more squarely over her shoulder, breathing in her scent – the white cherry blossom aroma created an obscure smile on his lips. His hand was resting on the bone of her hip, making him remember for a moment how only a month ago the hollow of her lower stomach was filled with a baby in her womb. Will's fingers lightly traced the counters of her hip and leg before resting again and settling himself. Liz shifted in her sleep and nuzzled her back against the curvature of Will's chest and stomach. He lay there a few more moments, drifting slowly into sleep again…but not before hearing something downstairs. His brow furrowed. It was a knocking – a persistent knocking! Will ignored it for a bit – thinking that Mr. Paxton the live in butler would surely check after the racket anytime now. Then it occurred to him that the holiday had resulted in leaving them alone in the large house, even Governor Swann was gone, off making appearances in Port James. Quietly Will crossed himself and drew out of the big, soft bed with growing annoyance. He glanced at Elizabeth who was still sleeping soundly and grabbed his breeches from a drawer along with his shirt that was discarded on a near by chair. Once he made his way downstairs he realized that the knocking wasn't coming from the front door – but from where? He looked all around him in the large foyer then noticed it was in the kitchen. The backdoor – the servants door, was being pounded upon even more loudly as he approached. Will turned the handle and peered out of the cracked door…no one was there.

"Down here!"

Will's eyes went downward to see a dwarf with a familiar face. "Marty?"

"Aye, listen Mr. Turner. I don't have much time – he was on his way, I managed to beat him here…" Marty struggled for a breath while trying to keep his voice to a harsh whisper.

Will bent lower to look at the man in the eye. "Him…who's him? What's going on…"

"A man, no two men – but one fierce specimen of a man are planning on the kidnap of your baby sir! He comes this moment to take her. They had hired me to do the job but the good spirit…or Jack's voice in my head, told me to do differently. Then when I knew the babe was your kin I knew you had to be told." Marty was speaking so quickly that the added stress of running there with such haste and talking so fast made the sweat start to pour off of his bald head as his haggard breath stressed the words to the worried blacksmith.

Will knew his mouth was gaping from astonishment. "They want…they want my daughter? Who is this man and his companion?"

"A tall man with dark, dark hair and cold gray eyes. When he speaks it looks as if he's looking right through you. His friend though, the shorter one, he's of no worry to you. In fact while I was leaving I heard them argue. The tall one is –"

"Is George Mayfield…" Will said definitely. He knew him from Marty's discription of him and his friend. He had seen the two talkign at the party a couple of nights ago. Then with Elizabeth's obvious distress of him - drew Will's attention immediatly...but now this...

Marty nodded quickly. "Aye, that sounds about right. Do you know him?

Will's eyes narrowed slightly, from what Marty saw in dim moonlight. It wasn't as bright outside as it had been when he was at the docks. No, the clouds were rolling in…the same clouds he saw now in Will Turner's eyes.

"I know him. He is infatuated with Elizabeth…" Will's voice was hard and cold. Then his eyes bore into Marty. "Are you positive what you say is true?"

Marty reached in his pocket and pulled out the pouch of coins David had given him the day before – only half of the agreed amount, the other half was to be given to him after the job was done. Marty knew he'd never see that money and it didn't bother him in the least. "I didn't get this from pick-pocketing…" He said, letting the gleam of the gold catch Will's eye.

Will was silent for a split second then his body suddenly flinched. "How much time?"

Marty thought….then his heart sunk. "For all I know he could be here already. I had to come tell you, you had to know"

But Will didn't hear the last of the man's sentence; he was already gone, running through the kitchen. He willed his legs to go faster and prayed quickly that he didn't run into anything on his way up the stairs in the dark house. He hurdled over one of the tables in the hallway as he turned the corner and flung open the door of the nursery. There standing near the open window was a dark figure of a man. He was motionless for a few moments after the intrusion had interrupted him. But after the short time elapsed he stood, portraying his staggering height. Will was so fraught with rage he finally let in the heart wrenching sound of his baby crying. George held her in one of his arms, practically engulfing her with his long trench coat.

"You bastard…" Will's voice didn't sound like his own. The low, hoarse whisper rattled him and empowered him at the same time. He could have sworn he saw George smile in the dark across the room from him…

"I'm not the bastard here…this child is." He said, slightly raising his arm to show off the baby girl he had managed to capture.

Will had no idea what he was talking about but he didn't care. This man had threatened his family and now it was Will's turn. In one motion Will came to him in three long strides with a fire poker in his hand he had grabbed from the mantle that he passed on his way through the kitchen. George's reaction was to flinch but soon he remembered the large, digging object tucked away under his belt.

The barrel was pointed directly in Will's face, barely an inch from his forehead. "Don't doubt me Mr. Turner…I am a gentlemen but I don't have any regrets for killing you and benefiting society."

At that moment Elizabeth ran into the room. She halted once she saw the scene before her. Her husband, his back to her, and George with a gun in his hand pointed at her beloved, and her baby in his other arm. Slowly she walked toward them both, her hands held up slightly as an involuntary reaction to protect herself.

"George…what the hell is going on?" She asked, her voice very quiet and her expression one of disbelief.

"Uh…Elizabeth…I – I …" At first George's stammering was catching him off guard. Then he pulled his wits together and gripped the gun tighter in his hand. "I'm saving you."

Her brow furrowed into a deep disbelief of the whole situation. She extended her hands to take the wailing baby from him but he abruptly pulled back from her. "George…let me –"

"No Elizabeth! This is for your own good…. you'll understand one day." His tone was cold as if he was a teacher chiding a student. Then as suddenly as this whole thing started, George's eyes switched over to Will and his expression hardened back into a contemptible frown. Elizabeth saw his finger flinch on the trigger and she pushed Will just before the shot fired. Will fell to the side of the room, against the crib, as he held on to dear life to the carved oak railings of the cradle. His billowing white shirt was crimson with blood flowing from his shoulder.

"Will!" Immediately she went to his side, putting her hand over his fresh wound, making him grimace even more.

George stood unmoving for from the time the gun had gone off. He was in shock for he had never even fired a pistol before and now he had shot a man – who, he thought, was in grave danger of loosing his life at his expense. He thought if it had come to this that the dependable, honorable, loyal George Mayfield could handle such a responsibility and duty, to kill a man to save the woman he loved…but now, with the red of blood protruding against the pure white before him…he panicked and turned to go out the window, and down the trellis, the same way he had gotten in. With the crying, red faced baby on the ground – terrified of the strange man, the yelling and now the gun fire George had forgotten the kidnapping plot and could only think of getting out of that house.

"What happened? I heard the gun shot…" Marty ran in the nursery with sword drawn, ready to fight.

Elizabeth looked up and saw that George was making his way down the side of the house. She immediately saw that the wound to Will's shoulder was not fatal, it was low…barely grazing his thick flesh where his arm and chest met. "I will not be long."

Will looked up at her and grunted with a vague nod as a reply. Quickly she went to the window, knelt down and picked up Katie then laid her gently but swiftly in her crib. Then she went to the doorway where Marty was standing. "Do you have a pistol?"

"Aye." He said, lifting the side of his coat to reveal is handle. As soon as she saw it, Liz ripped it from its holster and brushed past the little man.

"What about the- " He called after her, as he ran down the stairs.

"Comfort her!" She called back, not hesitating before she slung open the front door.

The rain began to fall as she ran down the drive, her ivory robe trailing in the wind as it picked up and swirled around her. She looked around frantically, searching for him, trying to find any trace of him. Then she heard the rod Iron Gate of the garden slam shut violently. In a bolt she took off to the back side of the house, her slippers were slowing her down, she kicked them off as she sprinted further and further down the path that lead to her fathers gardens. Liz finally made it to the gate where she threw open the latch and ran through the intrence. It was only then that she slightly slowed down. The tall tropical trees around her were rustling and moving in the rain and wind. All of the drops of water were catching the light and drawing her attention. The garden was lavish with a gravel pathway that winded throughout the entire area. The bushes were cut and groomed into intricate shapes and the flowers, even in this dark, bleak weather at night could still shine with their vibrant colors. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a shadow move from the rest of them.

"I knew you'd come."

Elizabeth spun around to see George, one of his hands extended to her, although he was still a few feet away. Her eyes switched from his face to his hand and back again.

"We can go…right now – leave and never come back. That bastard baby, i know she is restraining you - holding you back from the life you so desperately want away from that low life the blacksmith has given you." He drew nearer; her steps were going backwards, away from him but not fast enough. "I know you want-"

His speech was interrupted by a hard and forceful slap in the face.

"Listen. I don't know what demon has possessed you…But have no right to –"

"To want you? ….Oh how I want you Elizabeth! From the moment I saw you I knew we were meant for each other." He stepped towards her and grabbed her around the waist forcefully. "leave him, forget the child. Come with me..." His voice was ragged with his breathes becoming more strained and his voice was commanding, not pleading any longer. He continued to pusher her back, his mouth invading hers, his hands roaming her body.

"George no! I said no!" her fist made contact with his chin.

George staggered back and held his jaw. For a moment anger flashed through his cold gray eyes and in less than a blink he was on her again. "How dare you…you know I could have you under in no time." He said, his hands groping her breast with rough violence as his body pushed her up against a nearby tree. Elizabeth reached behind her in desperation, his weight pushing her backwards and his large stature making it almost impossible to move. She finally found the handle of the pistol tucked in the belt of her robe and drew it to him within the second. Liz managed to put a small distance between them with one final push with all the strength she could muster. With the gun pointed to his chest she gritted her teeth and pressed her finger tighter against the metal. "But you're never really have me."

The pistol fired…George's face fell…His body collided with the ground…His chest raised up then down again for the last time...the thunder shook the small garden...the rain continued to fall.

Elizabeth walked up slowly to his lifeless body; her eyes never left his face. They had grown up together, just as long as she and Will had…now she had killed him. He was different than the ruthless pirates she had shot before this point. She had no connection with them and they were armed, dangerous men. But George, poor George…she couldn't help but look at him and think of the times when they had courted those few years ago. Elizabeth crossed herself and shook her head vigorously. No, he had tried to rape her; he had tried to kidnap her baby, and made an attempt at ending her husband's life. Although the justifications of George Mayfield's death continued to come to her, tears were flowing freely with the raindrops that ran down her flushed cheeks. Her robe was completely wet through by now and her hair hung heavily down her back, parts of it sticking to her neck. Silently she walked away from the body, determined not to look back. She walked through the garden and out the gate, when she turned the corner she saw Will standing in the strong gales and heavy rainfall searching in the darkness for his wife. Her legs bucked from underneath her but she tryed as hard as she could to carry onward towards him, by now she was almost running, an unstable rush to get to her husband. Elizabeth came up behind him and immediately put her arm around his neck. When he turned around, relief flooded him, seeing his wife whole and…crying?

"Elizabeth – Elizabeth what happened?" He asked, holding her as tightly as he could to him, feeling her weight almost completely on him - knowing she was weak with crying

"He wont be b-bothering us s-anymore" Elizabeth's words were strained and her throat was tight with tears.

Will was silent as he closed his eyes. He was relieved, grateful and worrisome all at the same time. Yes, this night would take some explaining in the morning. But for now William Turner held Elizabeth in his arms and knew she was his. His bum arm hung at his side but he wrapped his good one around her shoulders as tightly as he could, feeling her body wrack with sobs. He felt the water on his skin mingle with her tears and sweat. In that moment they faintly melded together, finding everyway possible to support one another.

Without saying a word, Will urged her gently towards the house. She went willingly, walking next to him back up the drive and towards the open door. As soon as she stepped in Elizabeth saw Marty awkwardly holding baby Katherine in his arms, obviously distressed.

"I'm no good at this Miss…" He said helplessly as he held the agitated baby in his arms.

Elizabeth allowed a small smile to grace her lips. She reached down and took the baby and placed her tightly against her chest, smelling her skin and the soft little hair against her cheek. As soon as she was in her mother's arms Katie quieted and sunk into her comfort. Will came up behind his wife, with a hand around her waist and rubbed his thumb gently against his daughter's chubby cheek.

Elizabeth held her hand in her own, wanting to envelope the cooing child. "Oh my baby…My little Katherine…I praise God you won't remember this night." Elizabeth knelt her head down and spoke into her baby's long, warm nightgown and blanket, which soaked up the tear that dropped on to her baby's shoulder. "I love you"