AN: I am pleading for forgiveness from all of you for not updating for so long! For those of you who didn't read my profile, or my new story, I was having an insanely hard time writting Finn and Jack. They were being ridiculously stubborn, and couldn't seem to find anything to talk about (apparently, discussing relationship problems is not a virtue of Finn). But, enlightenment hit yesterday night, and I came up with this chapter! I'm hoping I kept the characterization correct (Finn keeps surprising me with new things), but I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. And it finally bridged the gap between the hectic chaos at Port Royal and the rest of the story, so and am sufficiantly pleased.

As always, enjoy!

The next two days were utterly miserable for me.

It wasn't the weather, which was perfect. And it wasn't the crew, who was more than accommodating toward me.

It was Jack.

I suppose more of it was my fault. After the incident in his cabin, I couldn't find the courage to talk to him again face to face. And he didn't seem to want to press the matter, which was extremely uncharacteristic of him. So, for those two days, I moped and debated and slapped myself a couple of times for being so stupid.

What really topped the whole ordeal off was that I could feel Jack watching me. And it wasn't creepy watching either, but careful and attentive, as if waiting for me to make a move.

I would have talked to him, but at the moment, my head was in shambles. How did I feel about this man? I knew that I loved him, something I just couldn't understand. But the biggest problem was, why did he care anything for me? It wasn't like I had thrown myself at him…the exact opposite, in fact. And my common sense was telling me that to have any type of emotional attachment to this man was stupid. The other, the biggest problem, now that I bothered to think about it, was our time difference. I was from the United States, 2007. Jack was from now, eighteenth century. If there was a way I could go home, which was possible if I just figured it out, then I would go. First chance I got. And Jack couldn't follow.

If only I could have had more romantic experiences during my high school life…but there had not been any boys who had me smitten in any way, shape, or form to give me experience. And now, I was being thrown together with a man who was the very type my parents had always warned me to stay away from. I was in a very bad situation.

Then, on the third day, Jack finally confronted me.

Now, I had been expecting this from day one (which was probably the reason for my incessant moping), and as I sat in the galley late that evening, picking thoughtlessly at the stew in front of me, I felt very little surprise when he sat across the table.

"Finn."

"Jack."

He sighed. "I am aware that the past few days have been…stressful for you. But if you're still mad at me about trading you for my ship…I'm sorry! I don't know how else I'm suppose to say that…"

"It's not that. Anymore." I poked at a green lump in my stew, wondering what vegetable it was suppose to be.

We sat there in silence. "Then what is it?"

"I don't know."

I couldn't look up at him. Everything about this situation was too awkward, and all I wanted to do was disappear.

"You don't know?" Jack's voice was quiet, and almost dangerous. I risked a peek up. He was watching me wearily, an expression I had never seen before. Then, suddenly, he smiled. "Maybe I can help."

His tone of voice was that of a mischievous child, and did nothing to encourage my hope. Holding up his compass, he took my hand and had me hold it.

"Your compass," I stated. "Your compass is going to help me?"

"Points to whatever the holder wants most." He looked down for a moment before looking back up. "I don't tell very many people that."

I wasn't sure if that statement was meant as a warning, or as a compliment to how he trusted me, but either way, it had captured my curiosity. Yet, I was hesitant, in more ways than one, to open it in front of him. Things like this were personal, and I was a private person by nature.

"Open it," he prompted after a long silence. Jack appeared too eager for my tastes, and I backed away well out of his view before opening it a crack.

It was spinning.

"I think it's broken," I muttered, tapping it gently. Jack frowned and took it from me. He opened it all the way, stared, and frowned even deeper. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, luv."

"Is it broken? Did I break it?"

He glanced back down, shook it, swallowed, and looked back up, an odd glint in his eye. "No, it's not broken."

I was terribly tempted to look over the table to see where the compass was pointing toward, but stopped. First, I didn't want to be a hypocrite…and I was afraid of exactly where it was pointing.

Instead, I reached out and snatched it from his hands to hold it again, setting it down on the table. It was still spinning. "Is it suppose to do that?"

Jack leaned over, and grinned. "Only if you don't know what you want. I wasn't aware you were so indecisive."

I scowled and looked at the point again, spinning like a windmill. I could hardly see how this was going to help my situation; seeing my own internal conflict in physical form was only making me more frustrated, as if to solidify the fact I could not decide what was to be done. Almost as if it was mocking me.

Looking up, I saw Jack watching me curiously and fidgeting, something I rarely saw from him. It occurred to me that he wanted desperately to say something, but either thought it beneath him, or found it too awkward. Well, I can hardly stand silences such as that, and finally asked, "Is something wrong?"

"What is it?"

I furrowed my brow. "What is what?"

Jack sighed, the signs of embarrassment written across his face. "What are the…things?" He tapped the still moving point.

My face began to blush, and I looked down at the table, but raised my eyes slightly. "Why do you want to know?"

A frustrated breath escaped his mouth, and he too glanced away for a moment before coming back. "I just want to know. Damnit, Finn! You haven't talked to me for two days! I want to know what's going on in your head!"

I was more than startled from Jack's sudden outburst, and sat up, studying his every feature with a certain amount of trepidation. His eyes were dark and aggravated, the large hat tilted just so it shadowed the top half of his face. Most of his body was leaning toward me, not threateningly, but forcefully, obviously willing me to give an answer. Jack wasn't accustomed to begging for things, that much was clear, yet he knew that he had to do exactly that to get anything out of me. And he wasn't enjoying that fact.

I gave myself the luxury of a quick, irritated look before watching the compass spin endlessly. "It wouldn't make sense to you."

"Finn, luv, I have seen many things most men say don't make sense. Try me."

I shifted, closing up my body more. "I don't know how to explain it."

Jack reached over, grabbing my closed hand. "Do not do this to me, Finn." I tried to release my fingers, unsuccessfully of course. "Start explaining, luv."

"Where should I start?" I countered, trying desperately to find a way out of this.

"The beginning is usually a wonderful…beginning," he replied, forcing my hand, and consequentially the rest of me, closer. "I'm willing to stay and listen."

"I don't know what I'm even trying to tell," I whispered.

"Now you're just making excuses," he muttered back. "You ought to know by now I'm not the most patient of men."

"Then it's amazing we've managed to survive together for so long," was my somewhat sarcastic reply. "You wanted to know what the two things I want most are. Correct?"

"That was the question that started this conversation. You've managed to deter me, however."

"Well," I continued, "one of them is the map. At least, I think it's that."

Jack stared at me, his dark eyes questioning. "You want the map?" I nodded, and he began to study my hand intently, though I doubted it was my hand, but his own thoughts that were receiving the attention. Then, he looked up, a shadow of a smirk on his mouth. "What's the other one?"

My face was red in seconds. "That's none of your business."

"I asked for both."

"I'm only giving one."

He chuckled, low and soft, sending chills up my spine, but not pressing the issue further. Jack didn't need to; he knew exactly what the other one was.

I effectively pulled my hand out of his grasp, retreating back further into my seat, too discomfited to look him in the eye. This situation was getting more and more awkward by the minute, and it was clear from Jack's attitude and reactions that he was enjoying it immensely. I, on the other hand, was mortified. Never before had I allowed myself to show my emotions so clearly to anyone, aside from Ella. And this was not the type of conversation I would have ever had with her, or any girl for that matter, leaving me alone in uncharted territories. It was unnerving for me; and Jack was perfectly aware of that.

"Please, continue your story that you are so hesitant to finish," he finally said, taking my hand back into his. "The curiosity is killing me."

"Let me have my hand back," I said.

"You don't need it."

"How do you know?"

"You're just avoiding the topic, luv. Let me prompt you: you want the map, and…something else that you are neglecting to mention." Jack smiled roguishly before continuing. "Why the map?"

I licked my lips nervously before answering, deciding to just dive into the problem. "I'm not from this time."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "I don't entirely understand you, darling."

"I'm not from this time." When he still showed no signs of comprehension, I sighed heavily. "Jack, I was born in 1990. The year 1990."

Jack just stared back blankly.

After a very long pause, I cleared my throat an continued. "Back in…my home town, there was a lady who sold antiques. Well, I like buying antiques, so one day I visited her, and bought a large, pocket-watch looking item and an equally large key. While I thought they were cool, they appeared pretty worthless and I left them alone for a few months. Then, one day, Ella and I were walking, and we were attacked by nine men. Well, they were never able to actually attack us, because Ella noticed that the map was glowing, and when I touched it, we disappeared and landed off the coast from Selsy, in this time."

Jack showed no expression, but his grip on my hand was tighter.

"Did any of that make sense to you?" I asked softly.

He stood up, still holding my hand. "You…traveled here? Through the map?"

"Yes."

"You don't…belong here?"

"No." We locked eyes, and I bit my lip worriedly.

"You shouldn't actually be here right now?"

"No."

Jack tightened his hold on my hand, as if to make sure I was actually in the galley with him. Finally, he spoke, both eyes quizzical. "Time traveled?"

"I told you it wouldn't make sense," I said, also getting up. "It doesn't even make sense to me! I mean, the map hasn't glowed ever since then, and I can't even imagine what would have caused it!"

"Why do you need to know?" he challenged.

"Because I want to go home!" I replied, realization dawning on me. "It's not the map I want! It's going home! And the map is the only way that I can think of!"

"How do you know it would bring you back?" His voice seemed slightly frantic, but I paid no heed to the sudden tone shift.

"Because it had brought someone to my time! The antique lady told me she got it from a battered man dressed in a red army outfit, one that didn't fit our clothing at all! But it's the exact same as the one's the army men here wear. Whatever it does…it works!"

I was pacing at this point, leaving the galley to go up for some fresh air. Jack followed, racing after me as I sped up the stairs into the setting sun, deck empty of any other persons, who were probably beginning to bed. "Finn, luv, listen to me." He snatched my shoulders and spun me around to face him. "Why would you want to go back?"

"It's my home!" I said. How more obvious was it than that?

"You've managed to live quite happily here," he retorted. "And done a wonderful job of pretending that you belong. Why can you not keep doing that?"

I began to say something, but stopped as a frightening thought crept into my head: I loved it here. Despite the many differences I had to become accustomed to, I had learned to actually love this time and this place. Of course I missed my family, friends, technology; however, if there were to be no way back, I would be perfectly content to live the rest of my days here in the Caribbean.

But there was no way I was going to let Jack know this, or my whole argument would be lost. So, after giving him a particularly dirty look, I asked, "Why in the world would it matter to you?"

Jack rolled his eyes before seizing my arm. "Do I really need to explain that you?"

Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me again, with such force it took my breath away. And, as before, I began to melt into his arms, but stopped myself, and instead pushed away, now furious that he dared to do that. "What in the world are you doing?" I hissed, wriggling in a fruitless attempt to be rid of him.

Jack reeled me in closer despite my struggles, gaining a firm grasp around my whole body. "Helping you to decide which one you want most."

Once again, he was kissing me, his breath warm on my face. But I wasn't going to lose myself again, not like before. I was able to escape his lips for a moment, and raised my hand to give him a good slap, but he caught it in midair. "Now, now, luv. No need to be rash."

"This isn't…this isn't fair! You aren't playing fair!" I spat, twisting around in a desperate attempt to free myself.

Jack didn't budge, but force my face up to his. "It's like you don't know me at all, Finn." He kissed me again, refusing to let me fight, which I was trying with real intent. Finally, he stopped, coming down so he could whisper, "You not leaving, if I can do anything about it."

"You have absolutely no control over the situation," I answered, but my resolve was steadily slipping.

Jack sensed it, and started kissing my neck softly, muttering something. I gave a few more weak shoves before stopping entirely, letting him hold me, his grip relaxing as I became less tense. It just wasn't fair.

"What are you saying?" I whispered, noticing I couldn't understand him through the haze of my thoughts.

Jack paused just above my lips, eyes closed. There seemed to be some internal struggle happening, for his face was contorted into a tortured expression, but soon the moment passed, and he opened his eyes, completely calm. "I love you."

I think I blacked out for a second, because the next moment I could see, I was practically on the ground, Jack holding me up. "Finn, are you okay?"

"I…I…" I couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence, and simply gazed up at him, the whole circumstance taking a very surreal feeling. My mind was spinning rapidly, too dazed to think clearly, but my chest and heart were burning with an overwhelming sense of emotion.

Jack, after a flash of concern went across his face, smiled grandly and kissed me again with a sweetness I didn't know he possessed.

This time I didn't fight. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, not letting myself think of the map or home for that matter. I just wanted to enjoy the moment, revel in the fact that he had actually said the very thing I had been yearning. I, who had never tasted love before, wanted to never forget it.

We broke apart, and the wind blew across my face, fresh and cool. After kissing me on the lips one more time, Jack smiled impishly and asked, "Do you have what you want?"

I looked up, knowing that Jack had done exactly what he had intended to do, and wanting nothing more than to punch him the face for it. He knew I couldn't just leave; he had me so tightly wrapped around his finger that if he asked me to jump off a cliff, I just might do it. I could never make myself go now.

"You are a terrible man," I finally said, but without the fiery sharpness that would usually accompany such a statement.

"Pirate," he muttered, leaning down for another kiss.

But out of the corner of my eyes, I saw something horrid, and turned my face away to get a better look. "That the Midas!" I gasped.

Jack's head whipped around to where I was staring, eyes sharp and irked. "How do you know this?"

"It was at Port Royal! The captain is friends with the Commodore!" Fear was gripping me, and I clutched at Jack's shirt, wanting to never let go. "He tried to trap me on his ship, but I managed to escape. Don't let him catch up."

Jack pulled out his spyglass and watched the large ship approach. "I'm going to let him board."

"Are you crazy?"

"Many have said as much."

"Jack!" I yelled, following him as he went to the helm. "He's after the Fountain too! He'd do anything to get it! Don't let him on! Is this the fastest ship in the Caribbean or not?"

Jack spun around and grabbed my shoulders. "Finn, my love, calm down. The ship is waving a flag of truce, meaning he wants to discuss matters, which means he could have information we need."

"We? Since was I looking for the Fountain? I just got dragged into this mess!"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Well I'm glad you feel that way."

"Why?"

"Because you won't have any issues when I lock you into my cabin."

"WHAT!" I screamed, backing away. "You can't do that!"

"The conversation we will have won't concern you," he answered, smiling at his own genius. "You don't care about the Fountain, remember?"

"You can't…do that!"

"Watch me," he whispered, pulling me down the stairs to his cabin door.

"This is absurd! Absolutely unreasonable!"

"Finn, I lost you once from my own mistake. I don't intend to have the same situation happen again, especially if it is unintended."

With that, he threw me into the room, and the loud click of a lock was heard, leaving me fuming with anger, yet practically singing with happiness. He had said he loved me.

And was proving it by locking me away.

I hate irony.