Hello everyone

I apologize profusely for the lack of updates, things get so busy around this time of year.

Anyway, Elizabeth and Beckett.....I feel that a little argument is in order don't you?......

'Just listen to me will you?'

Elizabeth was halfway up to the shack when Beckett's question floated up to her, angry and indignant.

She raised her forefinger to her pursed lips and raised her eyebrows in a mocking pose of sincere consideration of the question.

'Hmmmmmm lets see Beckett, you imprison me and threaten to kill me, you murder my father and friends, you attack the pirate brethren and manipulated my comrades into your way of thinking. So tell me this, Mr Perfect Pratt, why on Earth should I listen to you?'

Beckett stopped a few feet behind her. You are so infuriating!!!!!!!

When he didn't answer Elizabeth strode haughtily to her shack, opened the wooden door wide enough for her to enter, and stepped inside.

'You're dead Beckett, go back to your foul abode, make everyone happy, especially me.'

With that, she slammed the door in Beckett's incredulous face. He scowled.

Right you little simpleton, I didn't come all this way to be insulted with your sarcastic little comments. YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!

He rapped his fists repeatedly against the door, drumming incessantly with his knuckles until they turned red

'Mis Swann, I-I know it's a shock but you have to believe me-'

The door swung open so unexpectedly it almost knocked him over. She stood like the imposing King of Pirates she used to be. Her eyes sparkled with dark anger.

'Believe you? You were blown up, I saw your ship go down to The Locker. Yet you turn up here! Of all places! A ghost made flesh. You arrive completely intact and-'

'Intact?!' he snapped back, causing her to shut up instantly. He reached up to his hat and wig and sharply yanked it off.

'You call this intact?'

His head was bald and had been burnt a glistening pink. His flesh had bubbled and the skin was taut and twisted. Beckett rolled up his sleeve to reveal his twisted red arm, it was thin, as though all but the bone had been seared away. He showed her a long scar that tattooed his midriff like a scarlet snake. His hip was bruised and scarred, explaining the limp. As the grand finale, Beckett pulled his shirt forward slightly to show a large indention, which must have been caused by a shard of wood, or any other piece of shrapnel.

Elizabeth gasped and took a few steps back. Horror etched on her face as if she were a statue from a Greek tragedy.

Mother of God....

Beckett replaced his wig calmly and folded his arms, patiently waiting for her to speak. Ha! You're scared now, I can tell.

Elizabeth blinked back the tears of pity in her eyes. She fought back the gorge that rose in her throat, He was still alive, that annoyed her more than his scars horrified her.

'That still doesn't explain what your doing here.' she said curtly.

'I can explain,' he said irritably, 'But first-' he pointed to her belly again 'what the hell is THAT?!'

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Elizabeth stirred the sugar cube into the tea and handed the cup to Beckett. There was such a thing as manners after all.

'So it's Turner's?' he asked, a trifle cautiously.

'Of course it's Will's,' she sighed 'honestly, how many times must I go over it. No it's not yours, even though....'

She trailed off, Beckett cleared his throat and made quite a show stirring his tea and taking a rather large gulp. Choking on it.

Elizabeth sipped her tea. You think I'd let a monster like you grow inside me? There is already one too many of you in the world, Cutler Beckett.

Surreptitiously she studied his face. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was grateful his eyes hadn't changed. They were still the icy blue she remembered...

But it was lucky she wasn't honest with herself or she would have been embarrassed.

Beckett fidgeted anxiously in his seat as the uncomfortable pause passed, Maybe this was a mistake....I shouldn't have come.....

'Is there any reason you're messing up my life again Beckett?' Elizabeth asked, he had never heard her so annoyed.

'I- er...came to return something' he admitted.

Elizabeth leant back and rubbed her pregnant belly as another wave of pain left her abdomen tender. Not long now......

'Return what?'

'Patience, Miss Swann, I do not rush things.'

'It's Turner now.'

'Forgive me, Turner' he gesticulated.

'Why did you come?'

'I didn't think it polite to barge in-'

'Never stopped you before' she retorted.

Beckett sneered.

'Just because you and Turner.....Wait, where is the boy anyway?'

He sounded genuinely interested. Elizabeth didn't look at him as she answered, but looked intently a her cup. Yeah....like I'd tell you.

'He's gone away for a while.'

'Another foolish pirate adventure? Really Ms Turner,is it wise for him to run off leaving you alone and pregnant ?'

'You forget yourself Beckett, I ask for neither your company nor counsel' she said icily.

'Oh, God have mercy on me, Elizabeth S-Turner's acidic tongue is making an entrance!' He waved his arms grandly like a priest trying o batter the demons away.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, she folded her arms and drummed the fingers of one hand on the upper arm of the other.

'What Will is doing is of no concern to you Beckett.'

Beckett dropped his arms and raised a sceptical eyebrow, a singular feature at odds with the arrogantly irritated face.

'He died, didn't he?'

'No' she replied quickly, too quickly. Beckett's eyebrow continued to rise higher up his forehead.

On the Dutchman?'

'No!'

Now the eyebrow looked as if it were willing to commit suicide by leaping off his head as though it were extremely depressed.

'Turner's dead? You're a widow?'

Elizabeth stood up, knocking her chair to the ground. Her beautiful face was a mask of pure anger and hatred, her eyes were dark pools of sorrow and grief.

'Get out' she whispered softly.

Beckett rose slowly, still a head shorter than she. He drew himself up to his full, indignant height, his sapphire eyes locked with her chestnut ones.

'I came to give you something.' he protested. William Turner's dead?!

'I don't care!' she cried, pointing a shaking finger to the door as colour began to rise in her cheeks, flushing her a pale pink. 'Get out!'

Beckett walked steadily past her, past the meager belongings and paused with his hand on the door.

'Listen, I didn't come all the way for you or your bastard child, I came here to-'

What he was there for, he never said, because Elizabeth flung his teacup at the door, missing his face by inches. It smashed and fell in a deafening crash at his feet, in shards of china and tea.

'GET OUT!' Elizabeth screamed, grabbing her own cup and hurling at him, it hit him on the forearm and shattered, soaking his shirt with tea.

Beckett quickly opened the door and almost fell out, he fled a short distance. He heard another object smash behind him, a plate possibly.

'GET OUT!' she was still screaming, Beckett heard the tears in her voice, and his slight shame made his own cheeks prickle.

As soon as he were certain he was well out of harms way, he sighed. Now he knew just how volatile her temper was, she was a force to be reckoned with.

Running his finger through his wig he sat on the grassy embankment, he could always try again later.

Oh Jesus, this is going to be harder than I thought.......

Ok, fear not, Beckabeth will blossom, this was just too much fun not to write.

More soon! ^.^