A/N Here we go again. Maybe this time I will actually get a chapter written tonight. Again I apologize for the slow delivery.

To all those who have sent reviews… my deepest thanks. It helps to know that there is an audience for my little story.

Chapter 8: Changes

He clicked his compass shut and pursed his lips in frustration. It was difficult to concentrate on getting a heading when she ran through his thoughts. Just as he would center his thoughts back on food, the needle would disobey him and point to what he really wanted. After her rather uncharacteristic display of affection the night before, or what appeared as such, his focus on piloting his ship towards a specific destination was shot. His mind had wandered all night, leaving him with little rest. There was no way, at least while his stomach was still not empty enough to complain, that he would be able to get that heading.

He frowned. He could not put his finger on it, but something was troubling about her behavior. It seemed she had either dropped all pretenses of being in love with Will, or she was seeking a way to get back at him for pitching her overboard. Her question of love was startling, to say the least, considering that he himself had not really considered that a real possibility. Her supposed steadfast commitment to her blacksmith surpassed anything that Jack had tried on her, although he had begun to wonder about just how strong that bond was. He had caught the occasional appraising look from Elizabeth on their search for Will that had naturally piqued a desire for her within himself that had already been building for some time. His mind wanted to skitter away from that thought, but the compass was the best indicator he had to tell him what exactly his mind was trying to deny.

He heard a step behind him and wiped all concerns and frowns from his face. He turned to her with a golden grin, trying to exude a confidence he did not exactly feel. She sidled by with a suspicious glance as she wandered over to the rail beside him.

"We need supplies, Jack," she reminded him again. She did not seem convinced of his bravado. He let his smile slide away and pouted, turning back to the wheel. He hated feeling nonplussed around her, but the way she tilted her face up to him, peering up at him under the tricorn sitting on her head made him want to …

"Jack?" she prompted. He continued to pretend to ignore her. "Jack, I know you can hear me." Her voice began to get edgy, sharpening itself into what was promising to be a scathing set down. He decided to waylay her before she started.

"Lizzie, I'm not entirely certain if your eyes are functioning, but if they are you can see I am standing behind the wheel of my ship. As I am captain of this ship, and as I am actually moving the wheel of this ship, and as the ship itself is moving forward, one can only assume that I may actually be steering this ship. Since the steering of said ship requires concentration, one can also assume that the one behind the wheel steering the ship should not be bothered with suggestions on where to steer the ship, especially since the ship is already being steered in the direction of suggested destination. Savvy?"

Out of the corner of his eye he watched as her jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed. "Since when has steering a ship prevented you from having a civil conversation with someone?" she retorted. "I ask a simple question, and just as you always do, you dance around the answer. If you do not know where to get food, why don't you consult your compass?"

Aggravated, Jack turned from his wheel, sighed heavily, and stared hard at her. "And how many times has the compass worked for you, lately? Hmm? As I recall, you threw it on the ground telling me it didn't work? Remember, dearie?" He waited for her to remind him that it had indeed worked in the end, setting up his own reply, but her response never came. Instead, Elizabeth's face closed in on itself, a furrow deepening between her brows, a glazed look creeping into her eyes. He had a funny feeling that she actually did not remember the incident. His own brow creased as disappointment settled into the pit of his stomach. The aborted exchange left him feeling discomfited, as if he did not get enough food when starving to death, and he watched as she turned away from him. Just as he thought she was going to walk away, she turned back suddenly holding her hand out.

"Let me see the compass, Jack," she demanded. He blinked. Bossy little wench. He held up the compass for her to see, then proceeded to drop it back to his side. She grabbed at it with a glare, and unhooked it despite his noises of protest. "We do not have time for this, Jack. I'm hungry, and believe you are too. Now we may not be able to die, but we can certainly suffer, and I do not wish to suffer any more than I am already doing so with your idiocy." She held up the navigational instrument and willed it to stop. "Besides, you allowed it to leave your hands once before to find Will, so why you are having a problem with it now escapes me." She pointed out the direction of the needle, and plopped the compass back into Jack's hand. Then she walked away.

Later in the day, after scrounging a couple of pieces of salt pork from the galley, Jack glanced up at the crow's nest where Elizabeth was keeping watch. He had grown weary of watching the horizon, hoping to find land in these waters. He had begun to suspect that as a part of Hell, he was either not going to see land again, or the land he was going to get to would be nothing more than the beach they had left. It was one thing to know he was not going to see land for a while, quite another when he did not actually know if or when he would see it again. He was a pirate, not an explorer. He wolfed down his meager dinner and wiped his hands on his jacket, glancing about for something to do. He was just about to do something mind-numbing but necessary as swabbing the deck when he heard a shout from above.

"Jack!" He peered up to Elizabeth, and saw she was pointing beyond the bow of the ship. "Land, Jack! Land ho!" she added, excitedly. Jack grabbed his telescope from his belt and climbed up on the bowsprit. He extended the instrument and peered through. The vixen was right. There was the green haze on the horizon that indicated trees. It didn't look like there were many hills to speak of, much less mountains, but he was delighted. Where there were trees there had to be fresh water and more than likely other life forms.

He climbed back down and rushed back to the wheel and untied it. He had not really felt the need to actually keep the rudder still since the wind had never really changed direction the entire time it blew, but he still felt uncomfortable foregoing all his habits. Who knew when things were going to start becoming normal? He was sure at this point that they would, but not when they would. As it was, he felt like the most alive dead man there ever was. Beyond that, they had just spotted an island that wasn't an eternal beach. Maybe they were actually going to escape Hell after all.