A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews:)

...& we are heading towards the end of this story... Just so you know;)

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

Chapter 43

Elizabeth stood at the stern of the Black Pearl gazing out at the sea. Her anger somehow faded away, but she was still upset, and she definitely was not sorry about slapping Jack...

She bit her lip as she thought about that. After all, he did get them out of that situation... But of course he had no right to do such a thing without her consent. Without telling her what he was going to do. Why didn't he tell her? Why was he always not telling her?

She was certain that he would have never put her in any danger, and she did not mind being poisoned if it was a part of his plan... Because his plans always work. She suppressed a smile, reminding herself that she was supposed to be mad at him.

What bothered her was his independence. His... freedom. She has never considered his freedom as something that could possibly stood between them. It was rather something that they both loved. Something that he had, and she longed for. And now it just seemed that this freedom of his had a better place in his heart than she had. And it annoyed her. She wanted freedom. She wanted it for herself, and she wanted it for him. But she wanted it for them together. And he, apparently, irritably, wanted to be free on his own.

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest, and wrinkled her forehead. Why was he still scheming on his own now that he had her? She was a good schemer too. Didn't he know that?

She sighed. Had it hurt him when she slapped him? She thought it had. She had slapped him rather hard.

But it did not matter since he had deserved that. She stared absent-mindedly into the distance.

But it did not matter if he had deserved that or not. She should not have slapped him. It must have hurt him.

And he did not really deserved that after all. Did he?... Oh, right. Now run to him and apologize, she snapped to herself angrily.

After a moment of hesitation, she turned around, and considered really going to him, when all of a sudden she noticed Jack standing just few feet from her. He was leaning against the rail, watching her, and (I will cleanse this smirk away from his face) smirking.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes indignantly, and quickly came up to him.

Jack neither moved nor spoke. He just looked at her amusedly. And it was frustrating. Elizabeth stood in front of him, pursing her lips, and thinking of something sharp to say.

"Let's face it", he said at last, pushing himself away from the rail, and closer to her. "Ye'r not really angry with me, luv. So perhaps ye could just", he chaotically waved his hand around his face, "kiss it better, and then we could just forget about it."

Elizabeth glared at him, ignoring the irritating thoughts reminding her that it was actually exactly what she was almost going to do only a moment ago.

"I will not do such thing", she whispered through her gritted teeth.

Jack smirked at her, and leaned closer. "Are you certain?", he asked, bringing his hand to her face.

"Yes, I am", Elizabeth answered stiffly, bravely brushing his hand away.

"I doubt it", he stated with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes, wrapping his arms around her.

"What do you think you're doing. Leave me alone", muttered Elizabeth wriggling about in his embrace, subconsciously hoping that he will not let her go after all.

"I will not do such thing", he said with his roguish smile, pulling her closer.

She gave him a condescending look, and continued fidgeting, but stopped abruptly, blushing. Fidgeting did not exactly work the way it supposed to with their bodies pressed so tightly together. She stared at him angrily, while he kept grinning.

"You give up, 'Lizbeth?", he asked with fake curiosity. "Let's make a truce, then. Shall we?"

"We shan't, and I don't give up", she snapped, throwing her head back.

"Ah.", Jack smirked, running his hand up her spine, until it entangled in her hair. "You give in, then?"

"No", Elizabeth knitted her eyebrows, fending off the pleasurable feeling caused by his touch.

"Give way to a kiss?", he tried, leaning forward.

"No", she tilted her head impatiently.

He smiled, and whispered into her ear: "But your eyes give you away..."

She wanted to push him away furiously, but instead just found herself asking in a low tone of voice: "What about them?"

He looked at her, the intensity of his gaze burning down all her anger. "They shine", his lips brushed slowly against hers. "Pleadingly", he added with a smirk.

Elizabeth stared at him, trying to look annoyed, but the only thing she could think of was the thrilling sensation of his lips upon hers.

She could, and intended to continue arguing with him, and countering all his comments, but somehow it began to feel pointless, and tiring. And he was right. She was not really angry with him. Oddly enough, she could have never been angry with him. He certainly was the most irritating, frustrating, annoying, and mind-exasperating person she has ever met. But even with all these "qualities", she still thought him (to her weakening, although repetitive dismay)... adorable.

"Why do you think you are alone, Jack?", she asked in a calm tone of voice, looking at him intently.

He blinked, and narrowed his eyes, as if adjusting himself to the new topic, and mood of the conversation. But he did not answer immediately. And he was rarely not answering questions immediately.

And then she knew that she had probably asked a right question.

"What do you mean, luv?", he asked blankly, a nigh unnoticeable trace of anxiety flickering across his face.

Elizabeth smiled to herself triumphantly. She had certainly asked a right question.

"I mean", she started, and leaned towards him, "that you are not telling me about everything that's happening not because it would ruin a plan or cause troubles, but because you don't believe, and maybe even without realizing it, that I still be there when it's over, and you don't want to give away even a piece of your freedom for something that you foolishly consider capable of vanishing."

Now Jack did want to say something, but Elizabeth placed her hand on his mouth, silencing him.

"Freedom is not solitude, Jack", she shook her head, gazing solemnly into his eyes. A ghost of a smirk, or even a sneer flickered across his face, but she knew that it was only a futile emotions-concealing technique, and she could see that in fact he listened to her attentively, and interestedly. "Being free does not require being lonely. If somebody cares for you it doesn't mean that they threaten your freedom. And, most importantly, you must believe that somebody really cares for you, and will never ever stop caring", at this point Elizabeth with a very serious facial expression was tugging on his shirt, afraid that he will turn it all into a joke, while she was being for once deadly serious.

She fell quiet, and stared at him expectantly. He looked at her, and she tried to analyze the look in his eyes, that warm glow in his eyes, that she could only see there very rarely, because it was usually being overshadowed by sarcasm, playfulness, or menace. Or rum.

"I do", he finally spoke in a low voice, "have faith in ye, me little pirate plaything."

Elizabeth sighed softly, and resignedly, expecting the further lack of seriousness to follow.

Jack propped her chin with his hand, and whispered smilingly: "It's a very silly thing to be jealous of one's own self." Elizabeth blinked, and gave him a confused look. He stopped smiling, and brushing his fingertips against her lips added: "You are my freedom, 'Lizbeth."

Governor Swann was rather anxious about what was going to happen. Not that he supported than engagement... No. Or did he?... Somehow he found himself strangely not worrying about that projected marriage. For some odd reasons, apart from the undeniable fact that they indeed were in love with each other (the Governor sighed), he felt at peace with the idea. He came to believe that Elizabeth might actually be happy with him. Something that he had considered absolutely improbable only a few days ago yet.

He also reluctantly had to accept the fact that Elizabeth was temperamental, and very unpredictable, and he really began to see why she could not quite find her place in the world that she had been born to live in. He could hardly imagine her now as Commodore Norrington's wife. He just could not picture her preoccupied with embroidery anymore.

Not to mention the fact, that it was rather impossible to imagine any of the noblemen that they have known receiving such a slap, and doing completely nothing about it (of course if putting a hurt expression on one's face can be considered nothing...). Not that there was a great chance for Elizabeth to ever become so enraged because of the actions of gentlemen of their acquaintance... However, Jack Sparrow's total lack of reaction rather impressed him. Especially that the slap was not very well justified. He as well could be slapped, for that matter, since he had voluntarily taken part in that scheme without telling Elizabeth about it.

He began to understand why Elizabeth trusted that man. For the Governor, the word "trust" inevitably had some legal associations. One could trust royal officials, law-abiding citizens, noblemen. And now he thought that trust was perhaps something else, or maybe not exactly else, but at least something more. It was the certainty what a given person would do, and what a given person would never do. Regardless of words, of gestures, of smiles, and actions, you could always know what to expect of that person at the end. And what you could expect was that they will always be there for you.

Out of curiosity, Governor Swann decided to check how their discussion was progressing. When Elizabeth stormed off, Jack followed her, so they must have been now either continuing their argument, or perhaps hopefully having a matter-of-fact conversation regarding the passed events.

He walked to the stern of the ship, and stopped at the sight that strangely enough, hardly even surprised him. For the first time seeing them kiss did not enrage him. He turned back, and walked away, wondering whether it was possible, for the sake of the sophisticated guests who would come, to straighten those dreadlocks for the wedding...