AN: Well, here is the next chapter! I had it done sooner than expected...and I hope I got it right...anyways, I'd love reviews as usual, and I'm curious to know what you think about this particular chapter...

And once again, enjoy.

The first thing I remember was the sharp pain around my stomach, which I quickly identified to be my corset. Breathing slowly, I decided that it was just as tight as ever, which made me terribly frustrated. Why wasn't this contraption off yet?

Though I knew I should open my eyes, I still was not fully awake, more in the state where you certainly are not asleep, but dearly wish you were, and are willing to believe as such for the longest time possible. So my eyes remained shut.

Where ever I was, it was warmish, more so toward my left side, and I was on something relatively comfortable and squishy. Yawning regally, I turned to the left of me and moved toward the warmer part, for some reason thinking I was in my old bed at home, and it was a winter morning, and I was not quite ready to get up. Any moment the alarm clock would go off, sing Christmas songs…

Then the warmish thing moved.

I tensed up. I certainly was not in my old bed, nor was it a winter morning with Christmas songs to wake me up. Cracking my eyes open painfully, I peeked through to see a figure resting peacefully, a hand behind the head and another draped across the stomach leisurely, tickling my arm as the figure breathed. Then suddenly, they turned their head to look at me, the dark eyes amused.

I screamed.

It wasn't very loud, but more of a frightened shout, like one would do at a horror movie. The figure, as I had instantly realized, was Jack. The squishy thing was his bed, and he was laying next to me.

He consequently tumbled off his bed, holding his ears until I stopped.

I sat up quickly, staring at him accusingly.

"Heavens, women, what possessed you to screech like that?" he bellowed. From his response, I gathered he must have just woken up. Jack usually wasn't this grumpy.

His attitude did throw me off balance, and I blinked a few times before I gathered an answer. "I…um…what am I doing here?"

"I told you I was taking you to my ship." He was still kneeling on the floor, glaring at me.

"Why am I here?" I asked again.

Jack smirked. "You fainted. And, being the gentleman I am, I decided to put you somewhere more comfortable than those nasty hammocks."

"Your bed?" I hissed.

"Most comfortable place on the ship, luv."

I narrowed my eyes before rearranging my seated position. "Whatever. What time is it?" I had looked out the window, and seeing a semi-dark sky, assumed it must almost be morning.

"Hm…probably around dusk."

"Dusk?" I asked incredulously. "It can't be!"

"You'll find it can. How long did you think you were running?"

"Um…maybe an hour or two…"

"Try at least four. At least. The pirates left Port Royal in ruins, and you can't do all that in a couple of hours."

"Four hours!" I whispered, mostly to myself. "That means…let's see, I arrived at the ball around ten…running until two in the morning! Or more!"

"I'm not surprised you slept as long as you did. After all you did faint…though your voice sounds immensely better."

Though I tried not to, I blushed at the mention of fainting. "That will be the only time you ever see me faint, I assure you."

"Don't worry, luv, I am accustomed to having women faint into my arms."

"That hardly impresses me," I growled. "Now, I would like to remove the thing that caused my fainting, if you don't mind. I'm on you ship, so you don't have to worry about me fighting and whatnot."

"Indeed," he responded, smiling wickedly as he stood up, removing a knife. I stuck out my hand to take it, but he stared stupidly at it, until he understood the gesture. "You aren't going to try to get yourself out of the corset, are you?"

"Of course. I'm not going to let you do it."

"You'll cut yourself. I guarantee it."

"Watch me," I said, frowning as I grabbed the knife from his hand.

Honestly, it shouldn't have been that hard. The cord was thinner than rope, and should have been easy to slice through. The angle wasn't weird; in fact, it was an excellent angle to cut from. All in all, I should have had that corset off in a minute at the most.

But he was watching, and I could feel it. The thought of having his eyes on me was unsettling and making my head spin, and I did the worst possible thing: I looked up. His dark chocolate eyes were penetrating, intent and sharp, staring unashamedly back into my own. They weren't amused or laughing, which was odd, nor were they at all lustful or hungry. No, they were much deeper than that, something so much more deep.

I was so unnerved, I could hardly breath, and both hands were shaking visibly.

And, of course, I cut myself.

"Ouch!" I hissed, cradling my thumb. It wasn't a deep cut, but certainly was bleeding.

Jack chuckled softly and took the knife from my hand. "Just as I said. Now quit fidgeting and let me do it."

Utterly humiliated, I glared, a long fuming look, at him, but it of course had no affect. "Lay down," he ordered.

"No!" I stated, pushing him away. He pushed back, flattening me onto my back. "Get off!"

"Do you want this corset off or not?"

"I can do it myself!"

Taking my injured thumb, he studied it mockingly. "Apparently not. Now, hold still, don't squirm, and it will all be over in an instant."

I was about to tell him what exactly I thought about the situation, but it quickly became apparent that I had no power when he pinned my arms down with his knees and effectively began undoing the binding.

Wonderful, new, fresh air poured into my lungs, and I took the first full breath in nearly a day. It was sweet, amazing…I can't even begin to describe what I was feeling at that instant. It was like going without food for a day or two, then finally being served roast beef with potatoes and carrots. It was like baking out in the sun for five hours, then finally being able to take the coldest shower imaginable. It was just that good.

"There," he muttered.

"Thanks," I answered, sitting up. We looked at each other for a moment, but I couldn't seem to keep my thoughts focused. So I tried to stand up, but he pushed me back down.

"We need to talk, luv."

"About what?" I asked warily. A thousand ideas popped into my head, all of which I quickly squashed, and praying that my thoughts were not evident on my face.

Jack, being who he was, raised an eyebrow at my obvious discomfort. "About the map and key, which I know for a fact you have."

One would think I would feel infinite relief at this statement.

Instead, I was angry. Fuming. All the hurt, the pain, the betrayal came pouring back. I could feel my usually calm eyes turning to an icy blue as I glared at him. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. How could I?" The comment came out more like a snarl than actual words.

Sensing the outburst that would be coming, Jack backed up, watching me warily. "Whoa there, luv. Calm down. All I want is the map and key. Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything else to you. I promise."

"That's right! The key and map. That's the only reason you wanted anything to do with me. How could I forget that?"

"Finn, darling, calm down!"

I sprang out of the bed, standing rigidly, shaking and on the verge of tears. But the pain was so overwhelming, that, just as last night with Ella, I couldn't seem to control myself. "Did it ever occur to you that there are other people in this world? That we don't all bow down to your wishes?!"

"Luv, sit down!"

"NO! How could you be so thoughtless…so…so heartless as to completely disregard me? I hated being trapped with Barbossa. Hated it! All for the sake of finding your precious Fountain! It's like…like…I was an object! You didn't care what happened to me. You still don't!"

At this point, I was beyond tears. All that was in me now was pure rage, something I had never experienced previously, for no one had ever made me feel this way before.

And I knew why, though truth was heart-wrenching, terrible, and wonderful at the same time.

I loved him. Beforehand, my common sense was telling me this was bad, very bad, and I tried to ignore it. People like him and people like me never mingled for very obvious reasons. Yet, the feeling was undeniable now. I didn't know why; he was a rascal, a pirate who had proven again and again that treasure was all he cared for. But I couldn't help the feeling. I loved Jack so much that it hurt.

And I knew he didn't care about me. How else could anyone explain why he had treated me so carelessly? No sensible person would.

This was the reason I now stood, trembling as all of these emotions coursed through my cold body, breaking my heart yet giving me strength.

Jack, the wise man he was, had retreated back behind his desk, keeping a solid buffer between us. I hadn't dared to truly study his face during my shouts, but now I did. His face was screwed up into something between a frown and a grimace, eyes wide with shock, staring at me like I was a mad-women. He wasn't far off the mark; I felt rather crazed and disjointed.

Finally he spoke, a soft murmur that I could barely hear him. "You're wrong."

"Wrong?" I hissed. "When you insisted that I should come help you save your pathetic excuse for a ship, you only asked that because you wanted the map and key. Do you deny it?"

His face visibly darkened, and for a moment, I thought he was going to jump at me, but all he did was answer a simple, "No."

"No," I repeated, dangerously soft. "At least you have the decency to be honest now!" Looking down at my chemise, I tore through the patch that held the key and map, Jack watching curiously, but cringing as I held them up. "And I suppose you still want them?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, his hands moving this way and that as he changed his mind. "Well…yes."

"Then you can have the damn things!" I shrieked, hurtling them through the air toward his head. "Take them! It's all you ever wanted anyway!"

He ducked, cowering under his arms until both passed over him and crashed into the wall behind. I collapsed onto the bed again, quivering as my temper vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving me pale and weak, staring blankly at the floorboards. I had accepted what I had been trying to forget, and it still hurt, but my anger had made it numb. More than anything I wanted to cry my heart out, tell Jack what exactly I was feeling, but it was too dangerous. I was too scared. He had already bruised my heart without knowing; but bruises can heal. If he knew the truth, he would only break it; breaks never heal perfectly again.

Without looking up, I walked blindly over to the door, reaching out to take the handle.

"Don't leave, Finn."

I turned and stepped back from the intense stare that Jack now looked at me. His eyes looked almost black, and his mouth, of all things, was curved into a small smirk, and the shadows dancing across his face made him more intimidating. "I think I need to leave," I said.

"Oh no, we need to straighten a few things out first."

"Straighten what out?" I asked hesitantly.

He crept over, as if not to frighten me, his heavy boots thudding against the wood planks slowly. "I don't just want the map and key. In fact, I hardly care about them anymore."

"You're lying."

Jack cocked an eyebrow, not annoyed, like I thought he would be, but amused. "Prove it."

"I have plenty of proof." He was right in front of me now, and I was fleetingly reminded of the first time I entered his cabin on the sloop, and instinctively, I reached behind me for the handle.

He stopped my hand, pinning it against the wood of the door. "Say it then," he challenged.

My mouth went dry, and I licked my lips in a desperate attempt to think of something, yet nothing came to my mind. I backed up until my back was against the door. Jack followed, standing only a foot away. "You once said you cared about what happened to me," he muttered. "It hasn't changed."

It wasn't a question, but a statement, like Jack could see right through my mask. I didn't answer, afraid of what would come from my mouth if I could speak.

"Can you deny that?"

My face went pale again as I tried to flatten myself next to the door. Jack came closer, and our faces were less than six inches apart. "Well?" he pried softly.

"Jack…" I moaned. I was defeated, that much was clear. He knew exactly what I was feeling. Why was he making it so miserable for me?

His arms circled around my body, capturing me to his chest firmly, his warm breath washing over me. "Kiss me," he whispered.

"Please…no…" I begged, clutching at his shirt, yet there were obviously two conflicting wants. I couldn't kiss him; I was too afraid to attach myself to him, and emotionally, it was too dangerous. But it was what I wanted more than anything.

He ignored my plea and gently forced my chin up, and my body literally melted into his arms as he kissed me. It was gentle at first, his thumb stroking my cheek; then it turned more passionate, almost desperate, and he clutched me tightly, not letting me go, refusing to release me. Warmth spread through my body, making my skin tingle pleasantly, and at that moment, I forgot everything but the kiss.

It was a conscious decision. I wanted to forget everything, pretend there had never been a before, and that there wasn't going to be an after. So I let him hold me, kissing back, griping his shoulders for the support I needed.

He took my face and began kissing my cheeks repeatedly, muttering something that I couldn't understand, then kissing my neck, running up and down with hot, reckless kisses, then kissing me full on the lips again, still clinging me as forcefully as possible.

Kisses and more kisses, it was a blur of kisses and heat and whispers I couldn't quite hear, going on and on…until, suddenly, I became afraid. Very afraid.

Jack sensed my abrupt change in mood and stopped, breathing heavily watching me carefully. "What's wrong, darling?"

"No," was all I could force out of my mouth, once again shaking violently. I licked my lips and continued painfully. "We have to stop."

"Don't say that, luv," he whispered, kissing my cheek again, and then again, trailing his mouth down to my neck.

"Jack, stop," I begged, pushing him away. "I can't keep doing this."

He paused before looking at my face, but holding me firmly against him. "Why?"

I stared up at his face, so perfect and dark, and for a moment, I couldn't speak, couldn't say what I had to say. Sensing my weakness, he place another softer kiss on me before I stopped him again. "You're just going to break my heart," I sobbed, wiping away the few tears that had come.

"Now, why would ol' Jack do that?" he cooed, brushing the tears I had missed.

It took all of my self-control to not break down and cry my heart out. "Jack…I'm just…scared. I just…" I turned around to face the door, or at least tried, but Jack forced me toward him.

"Listen to me Finn. There have been many gorgeous women in my life, all of whom…I…ummm…."

"That isn't helping your argument," I replied cynically. "In fact, it's proving my point."

"Let me finish," he demanded. "They may have been beautiful, but that's all they were to me. But with you…I can't even begin to explain. Maybe its because you aren't shallow, that you use head…I mean, you aren't drop dead gorgeous, but you actually have a personality! That's what I want!"

I looked at him silently, trying to believe what he was saying.

Actually, I did believe him. I had spent enough time with him to figure out when he was being completely truthful and when he was bending it slightly, or just flat out lying. Jack was definitely telling the truth.

But, as far as I could see, he only liked me for who I was. Like wasn't enough, not for the way I was feeling.

Jack was still watching me, and must have seen some doubt cross my expression, for he let go of me and kicked his chair, which was behind him, making me jump in shock. "Why are women so difficult?" he groaned, probably to himself, then turning to me, asked, "What do I have to say to make you believe me?"

I had never seen Jack loose composure. He was rather intimidating, but for once he looked sorely defeated and confused, breathing heavily, his eyes questioningly me silently.

"Say you love me," I whispered.

"What?" He blinked, frowning slightly. In that blink, he had completely collected himself and once again looked like the Jack Sparrow I knew, the one who was sure of himself.

"Say you love me," I repeated.

Jack's eyes studied my face, and he seemed to be suffering from an internal conflict. Coming toward me, he grasped my shoulders, opening his mouth several times than shutting it after.

Then, taking my hands, he brought them to his face. I could feel my heart speeding up, and I held his hands tighter. Looking at me seriously, he started, "Finn….I…I…"

Suddenly, the door behind me opened, and turning around, I saw Richard and Gibbs standing there, both with worried expressions that quickly turned to shock and embarrassment.

"I think I should go now," I muttered, taking my hands away.

"Right," Jack said, but before I could leave, he grabbed my chin and kissed me again lightly. "Good night, luv."

"Cap'n, I'm sorry for…uh…well, we heard loud noises, and Rich wanted to make sure that…well… fumbled Gibbs as he ringed his shirt.

"Just keep to your watch, Gibbs. And find a suitable dress for Finn before she freezes."

"Yes, Cap'n. Come along, Miss Delaney."

I followed Gibbs as Jack closed the door, blushing and trying to wipe my stained cheeks. But Richard held me back, motioning for Gibbs to continue. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," I answered. He wasn't swayed and took my arms gently.

"I swear, if he hurt you…"

"No, nothing bad happened. I'm fine, I promise."

"Very well," he sighed, letting me go. "I suppose you ought to follow Gibbs. He has a bunk ready for you. And are you feeling okay?"

"Richard, I just said--"

"I meant from the faint."

"Oh…yeah. It was just the corset."

"Your voice is sounding better."

"Yeah, it is. Goodnight."

Richard took my shoulder again. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, I know I'm not Ella, but…"

"Thanks. I'll remember." Smiling kindly, I hugged him, then followed after Gibbs, who was waiting patiently below deck.

I couldn't go to sleep. There were too many things to think about, but the one that was most prevalent was, if Gibbs and Richard hadn't appeared when they did, would Jack have said it? I couldn't forget his face as he looked at me so truthfully…and the kisses…

Sighing, I turned over and tried to ignore the lightheaded feeling I had, yet trying to remember the warmth I had felt, for it had seemed so right.

Jack couldn't seem to sleep either. He laid there, glaring up at his ceiling.

Why hadn't he been able to say it right away? When he was kissing her, that was all he could mutter, but Finn hadn't heard him. But when she asked him to say it straight to her...Three simple words: I love you. That was it. People did it all the time. Why wasn't he able to?

The only conclusion Jack could come to was that he was scared. Just like Finn was. But for a vastly different reason.

Finn didn't want her heart to be broken, and so she was hesitant to admit anything, though it was clear enough from the way she had looked at him.

Jack, on the other hand, did not want to break her heart. He still remembered the screams and the look of fear on her face when Barbossa took her away, and Jack knew that, if he were to ever leave Finn, they would be ten times worse, and twenty times more painful. And it wasn't that he wasn't willing to endure them again; it was he couldn't have her so hurt, and be the reason for it.

For the fact was he loved her; more than treasure, more that even the Pearl. And like his ship, to see Finn in pain would be the worst thing that he would ever have to suffer. He did not trust himself not to hurt her.

He sat up, as a brilliant idea struck him. Trust. Jack just needed Finn to trust him. Then, once he did tell her that he loved her, she would know it was the truth. All he had to do was somehow prove that he wasn't going to break her heart.

Smiling contently, he laid back down and stretched languidly. It would work. Jack didn't need Finn telling him that she loved him; he already knew. But he could convince her. It would happen.