Disclaimer: Me no own. You no sue. Savvy?

A/N from PineAppleLint, the creator of such Too Much Rumness: Classes have started, the excuse I am going to use for not getting this chapter up in proper time. Again, my apologies. July 26th was the one year anniversary of A Little Too Much Rum. How scary is that? : ) Hope you've been enjoying it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

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Belle awoke in the middle of the night to an unwelcoming, empty bed. She hadn't realized it at first…she had stretched and reached out for Jack, but her hand ran along the abandoned, rumpled sheets instead. Sitting up sleepily, she glanced around the room to find Jack sitting in a chair next to the window, clad in only a pair of wrinkled trousers. The moonlight accented the dark circles under his eyes from insomnia, glittering off of his gold teeth as he yawned.

"Can't sleep?" Belle asked, concern lacing her voice.

He shook his head at her, meeting her eyes. Of course Jack didn't want to admit that he couldn't get himself to sleep the night before…instead, he had watched her dream with a peaceful smile on her lips, silently wondering if he had made a good decision in bedding her. Most women her age were married to respectable men and already with child or raising a family. Had he taken it too far by stealing her innocence?

She threw her bare legs over the side of the bed, wrapping a sheet around herself and running a hand through her jagged blonde hair.

Jack watched Belle as she walked slowly over to him and leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek as he sighed. Perhaps he did make a wrong choice. She deserved to make love under the stars on her wedding night, not in the middle of the ocean with a lying, cheating scallywag. But here he was with her again for the second night in a row.

Belle's lips captured his again and he groaned into her mouth. "You lil' tease," he commented with a particularly wicked grin, "You're like an addiction, Miss Blake."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she winked, then casually walked over to the open window, resting against the wall and staring out at the considerably choppy waves. "Are we due for a storm, Jack?"

"I've been watchin', luv. Somethin' isn't right wit' the weather. I think we might be in for somethin' big, I…" he paused, staring at the delectable goddess standing before him, her hair softly whispering around her head from the wind, her face illuminated by the moon. A delicious vision in bedsheets if he ever saw one.

"Jack?"

"Yes, darlin'?" Jack snapped out of his delightful reverie, slowly twirling a dreadlock between his fingers.

She didn't answer, only ran a finger down the spine of the book sitting placidly next to him. The map book she had given him. Belle smiled, undeniably pleased.

"Just doin' a bit of reading," he said, stretching like a cat before grabbing her and gently placing her in his lap.

Settling her head on his shoulder, Belle teased, "You can read?" She let out a muffled snort when he poked her between the ribs. She settled more solidly into his embrace and watched as he wiggled his toes.

Running a finger down her arm, he smiled when goosebumps instantly marked her flesh from his light caressing. "I can read all matters o' things, thanks very much. I'm an educated man. I just use me knowledge a lil' differently, that's all."

They both grew quiet once more, silently enjoying each other's company.

"You know Jack, I was dreaming about you tonight," she informed him softly.

He turned his head to the side in order to properly look at her face. "Was it somethin' exotic, Belle? I know ye want me, poor gel, but I didn't know that ye want me so bad that it plagues your sleep as well."

"Silly lout. It wasn't that sort of dream. I didn't like it at all."

"Was I wearin' a dress?" Jack suddenly asked out-of-the-blue.

"What?" Belle glanced up at him, her interest piqued, "No, why say that?"

"Gibbs had a dream o' me in a dress once. O' course, it was after a rough night…some drinkin' was involved…" Jack knitted his brows together in concentration before adding, "I think it was…absinthe was it? Oh yes. A night I'll never forget. Stay clear o' absinthe, luv. I promised meself I'd never touch the stuff again."

"Sparrow, you never cease to amaze me. I wouldn't be surprised if it hadn't been a dream."

"Dresses and absinthe are no laughing matter," he scolded playfully, "Now what were we talkin' about? Ah, your dream."

"Right. Hmm, you were talking to this intimidating bloke next to the plank on the Pearl. He talked of some island and leaving you with two pistols instead of one."

Jack's blood ran cold. "…and how I should be the gentleman, shoot the lady, and starve to death meself?"

Belle's eyes widened ever so slightly. "How did you know?"

"That actually happened," he said with a frown, "How did ye dream tha'?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. Who was that man, Jack?"

"The late Captain Barbossa. I killed him around two years ago. He was me first mate, left me to die, that whole bit."

"The same Barbossa from the Isla de Muerta?"

"Yes. Haven't I told you the tale before, luv?"

"Not directly. I've heard the stories before leaving Port Royal. And I've heard you mentioning things to the crew. Telling stories and such."

"And when did ye start listenin' to me stories, luv?" he questioned, brown eyes twinkling, "You of all people know most of them are codswallop."

She yawned and said sleepily, "Indeed. I can tell when you're being a despicable liar, Captain Sparrow. Women have a sixth sense about these things…"

"That's what's different about me," he replied impishly, "Most women are too busy noticin' me physical attributes than listenin' to the hogwash comin' from me mouth. Ain't that right, Belle? Belle?" He glanced down, noticing her drifting off to sleep in his arms, leaving him to his own unanswered thoughts.

Jack relaxed in the chair, pressing her closer against him and staring out the window once more as new questions joined his already jumbled mind, ones about Belle.

How could the sweet siren dream moments of the exact past, moments she had never experienced personally? It wasn't possible.

Well, it wasn't probable.

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Next day around noon

"You're slurping your soup, Jack."

"Am not!"

Belle sighed. "Yes, you are."

"I plead innocent!"

"How can you plead innocent when I can HEAR you slurping your soup?! It's simply illogical!"

Jack threw down his soup spoon, glaring at her. "With all these vegetables in the soup, how can ye NOT slurp the soup? You have to get your lips around them in order to sip politely, and even THEN do they touch your nose, fall in your lap and whatnot!"

"I don't think you would have a problem getting your lips around places," she said with a raised eyebrow.

Jack gasped mockingly. "Did me sweet, innocent gel make a sexual innuendo?"

"I did not. Now let's get on with the lesson…"

"You did! Belle is talkin' dirty!" Jack exclaimed wickedly, steepling his fingers and adding, "I like this. I like it a lot." Throwing his boots leisurely onto the table, he ordered, "More please."

"More soup? Gladly."

"More 'innuendo'ing, you lil' vixen."

She took one hand and swiped his boots off of the table, him scowling at her as she did so. "NO feet on the table, first of all…"

"Me feet did not actually make contact wit' the blasted table," he said in annoyance, "Me boots did."

Belle held her face in her hands and literally growled as she said, "You are making this so difficult…"

"What can I say, luv? I'm good at what I do." He grinned at her, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back in the wooden chair comfortably.

As the chair hovered on two legs, Belle walked up to him and placed the spoon back in the soup…all the while kicking the unstable chair and causing Jack to go tumbling to the floor.

He sat up in his position on the floor, looking positively bewildered. "You did that on purpose!!"

"My foot slipped," she replied, unable to contain the small smile tugging at her lips.

"What an awful liar. Seems to me like I have a few things to teach you."

"I am not lying!"

"Swear to the great Lord Almighty?" he asked with a smirk, pointing to the ceiling, "You swear?"

"No." She burst out laughing as his face contorted into a hurt expression. Her laughter turned into bouts of shrieking as he jumped up from the floor and pounced at her. She barely made it out of his grasp as he swiped in her direction. Belle soon found herself at one end of the table and Jack at the other.

He grinned at her, licking his lips devilishly. "Ye can't run from me, darlin'."

"I sure can try," she said confidently, eyes darting towards the door frantically.

Suddenly, Jack had leapt onto the table and was walking across it with long, swaggering strides, right at her.

"No boots on the table!" Belle demanded over her shoulder as she turned on her heel, desperately making a run towards the open door. She felt him crash into her from behind, sending them both head over heels to the floorboards. In a matter of seconds, he had her pinned beneath him, smiling foolishly down at her as she glared defiantly back.

"That bloody hurt," she said sourly.

"It was supposed to," he replied naughtily, "Where does it hurt, my sweet? Do you want Jack to kiss it for ye?"

Belle pointed to an angry red mark on her elbow where it had connected to the wooden flooring amidst their fall. Jack took her arm in his hands, bent it, and pressed a smacking kiss to it. Patting it a couple times, he laid it back to her side.

She grinned and pointed to her forehead, and Jack leaned down, whispering his mouth across that as well. And when she pointed to her lips, well, how could he pass that up, right? He kissed her so thoroughly that they both didn't even notice when Mr. Gibbs stumbled into the room, quickly averting his eyes when he noticed the Captain and Miss Blake kissing rather enthusiastically on the floor of the galley.

"Cap'n?" Gibbs questioned after clearing his throat, "We need ye above."

Jack paused, taking a break from their little rendezvous to glance up and ask, "What is the problem, Joshamee?"

Gibbs hesitated, staring at Miss Belle, who was staring back at him upside-down from her position on the floor. Her face pink, her lips swollen, she let out a little sigh of embarrassment and waved to him, looking as if she wanted to flee but couldn't from being straddled by Jack in such a manner.

"Well sir," he began, "It's quite a sight, really. Don't know where it came from…the weather I mean. You may just have to take a look and see for yourself."

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Maybe they could be on that show Storm Stories. I would watch it if Jack was on there. I feel a Weather Channel party comin' on! Break out the ponchos!

P.S. Say no to absinthe. (thinks of absinthe, which leads to thinking of From Hell, which leads to thinking of Inspector Abberline, which leads to thinking about wiping drool away from chin) Yum!

P.P.S. And that whole 'swaggering across the table' thing? I dedicate it to the music video "Girls Lie Too". It's delightfully delightful.

P.P.P.S. Review please and you will forever have a place in my scurvy heart.