Chapter 2: A Cappella

The wound was closed, not angry, there was no blood, redness or any other indication of it not healing properly. She cleaned up the sight of injury nevertheless with firm, but gentle pressure just like she had seen from a fleet surgeon once on one of Norringhton's ships.

"Umm..." A weak moan came from Jack's closed lips and he moved his head to the side a little, making Elizabeth wonder if his stomach was hurting when she touched it.

"Come on Jack, wake up," she patted his face and when there was no response she pulled up her skirt so she could clean the black dirtiness off his pale cheeks. With a more cleared view, she sat closer up the bed so that she could study his features a bit more.

"I'm here Jack!" She held his hand with her heart in her throat as she could hear another, louder moan followed by the sick pirate mumbling something.

His eyes opened, but then they squinted shut again. Elizabeth waited, rubbing the back of his hand, but he had settled, nothing happened, so she turned her attention back to the wound. She applied another makeshift bandage out of one of her clean blouses with great care, then paused again, watching, concerned. Those clothes. Jack's trademark. Mr. Gibbs might've kept him alive, but he certainly didn't take care his clothes looked their best and charmed any woman that laid an eye on him. She would have to take them off, wash them, saw bits together. And what would Jack do when he got better and didn't have his hat? And how will she undress this dead weight? Her hands shaking and making her fiddle with the strings on his shirt, she started to take his clothes off. She pulled one of his hands out, repeated the process on the other side and pulled the shirt from under him without much difficulty after all. She watched his chest rising and falling regularly and peacefully, took comfort in it and wrung the piece of cloth out into the bucket and started to wipe his neck, arms and chest in gentle round patterns working her way down on his perfect torso to his navel, taking great care around the small bandage again. She watched as water droplets trailed down his now clean chest drinking in the sight before catching herself and trying to concentrate on the job in hand. She dug her fingers under the undone belt of his trousers and dragged them down his legs. She dropped them onto the heap that was his shirt on the floor and looked back to jump in amazement. He was now entirely naked to her gaze. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself. She had been deprived of getting in contact with a men's privates since her son was conceived, and that was four years ago, but still, she shouldn't have had such a reaction. She almost couldn't believe how perfect the sight was. Here was Jack Sparrow, lying half dead in front of her and all she could think of was the strong desire to have a taste at it. Her hands went out as if by themselves towards him, they wandered over his low stomach and her forefinger gently touched his cock, settling there. She shook her head and pulled the hand away to the cloth, but the cloth wandered there too to clean that particular area now. She gasped in surprise, Jack's penis had responded visibly to her touch, suddenly filling out to stand hard. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at his face, hoping it was only a reflex from him.

Her shock deepened when she saw that he had lifted his head, tilting it and was looking at her with obvious arousal in his eyes. "A married woman!" He stated, taunting her in his scandalized tone, "what are you up to?"

"I'm not up! You're up!" She rolled her eyes nonchalantly as if all this'd been Jack's fault. "Great you're up. Awake I mean. You have got to drink something," she took her cup from the table and gave it to him, but not before covering him with the blanket. She averted her eyes in shame, but had to turn back when he heard the cup tumbling down.

Jack's head dropped back to the bed, as though he was too weak to hold it up. "Why you always come back?" He breathed.

"I'm not a dream, Jack!"

"No? Then where are we?" He joined the game he sometimes played with the Lizzie in his mind.

"On the ship I captain," Elisabeth said proudly, "the Audacious Caboose?"

"You should have a better name for a ship!"

Elizabeth shrugged, "I didn't choose it. Just stole it. I'll fill that cup again," she stood.

Jack grabbed her hand, "stay more! I will not wake up!" He refused to let go of the dream.

His eyes were glassy, as if wet, she had never seen him like this before, so weak, so confused. Of course, he was one or the other at times, but not physically and mentally broken at the same time. Elisabeth nodded and sat down beside him, weaving plans of how to take him to a surgeon.

He watched her, too feeble to speak till his eyes slowly won the battle and closed shut. "Never enough..." He muttered before he fell into a deeper sleep again.

Tbc