I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has continued to read, as well as new readers to come. I appreciate all of the constant enthusiasm over this story, it certainly does the same in writing it that it seems to provide with everyone reading, which I find refreshing. So glad that there are still some Sparrabeth Shippers out there ;)

This chapter has again, a warning for explicit material (thus the M rating on the story).

Chapter 20: Lay Lady Lay

-XOXO-

The room was dark and light at the same time. It was cold and hot, empty and full, beautiful. Elizabeth's eyes were partial to all of it, as if fully opening them would lead to a spoiling. Her body, back bared from one side of the bed, leg dangling off the edge of another, was coiled within a loose sheet, arms gripping a pillow, thighs clutching the linen. From across the cabin, she could see Jack's silhouette at the bay window, scanning the late night skies and sea. He hardly moved, swaying casually with the rise and fall of the ships watery dance. He was the beauty in the room, between the heat and coolness, amid the empty corner and half full bed, he was what gave the space its splendor.

Looking down to her feet at the end of the mattress, Lizzie caught what had been his shirt earlier between her toes, dragging it in towards her. It was huge, as he usually wore them, and would be even bigger on her. Sitting up, she threw it over her bare chest, and down across her body until he modestly covered her breasts, stomach and just down to her inner thighs as she rose from the bed. Jack still did not move at her cracking ankles to the wood floor, of the squeak of the boards as she tiptoed across the room to where he was, from behind. Her hands went up directly as she stepped into his back, smooth, warm, bare, and covered his chest as her chin rested on his shoulder.

"Did you tire of me already…?"

A deep sigh came from him as he melded against her, entirely too content for any piece of mind.

"I assume th' answer should be a resounding no. Ay?"

"It should, indeed." She laughed, hugging him tighter out of natural instinct. He responded by holding onto her twisted hands on his chest, stroking over her knuckles one by one and sighing again.

"In that case…no. I ave' no intention of tiring of yer company. E'er."

The answer suited her mind and with one last squeeze of his body into her own, she loosened her grip from his hands and turned back away into the outer rim of the cabin, in search of paper. Jack of course didn't know this, and feeling unwound by her lack of warmth at his back, he looked back to attempt refilling the need, to see her on a hunt through his documents and charts. It was perhaps the most interesting, and most appealing to see her wardrobe, only a shirt, his shirt. It floated around the high end of her thighs from front to back, dancing on a cloud of curvature and sweet air as she skipped between chairs and tables, reaching and grasping over his messy array of work. He didn't help her, or interrupt with questions of what she was looking for, because in all sincerity, he was too lost in the way her back moved within his shirt, her rounded bottom from side to side with a tempting slide of her hips as she walked around, and her nipples, peeking out at opposite ends, just past the cords. Fascinating, it was all she would ever be to him, an utter fascination of mind and soul.

"Do you have a single stitch of paper in this chaos?"

Thrown from his thoughts, he smirked and walked towards the charting table.

"Paper…" he stated blankly, shuffling in a few drawers, a shelf or two, finally able to accomplish drawing out a dirtied parchment sheet, inked pen included. "Does this suit ye?"

"It does, thank you."

"Any special need fer it?"

"Come here…" she sauntered away seductively to the bed, "…and I'll show you."

Charmed and in a daze of her legs at the drape of his shirt still, he followed, like a mutt to its master. Making it to the bed, she already sat in the center of the sheets, legs tangled about in a curl, paper settled on the sheet before her. He wasn't able to resist the need, which he feared would be the case from here on out, and climbing in just behind her from the other side, he settled in at her lower back, stretching his legs out around each of her hips. Elizabeth smiled while she focused on her sketching and watched below as his hands snaked around her waist, pulling her closer into him, his breath hot on her neck. It was incredible to her, most of all in fact, that in the night thus far, they had not made love, nothing beyond the point of his pleasuring her. And yet, he was utterly romantic in his ways, gentlemanly, a perfectly good and decent man, as she had always defended him on.

"Wot' are ye sketching at?" his voice in her ear left a shuddering pain on her shoulders and down her back.

"I found it today Jack."

His eyes shifted from her neck, back down to the paper out in front of her. "Found wot', darling?"

"The downward route. I found it…this is a map."

"Th' fountain…no…"

"Yes." She smiled, finishing off the finer details of the map.

Upon it she had sketched the bay in which both of their boats had drawn into, the long beach, the inward path, as well as the large swamp. All of these taken from her memory of the ground level. Jack was fixed on her hand and the pen as it scratched out designs, answers, locations he had never gotten around to discovering himself, she had, and it was even better for him this way. Elizabeth was proving herself to him, just as she said she would, a young girl from London, proving herself to the pirate who had so denied her boarding privileges years ago. Here she was, defying his every move, his every venture and decision, beating him to the mark.

"It's a cave, Jack. There were symbols on the stones I walked across."

"Symbols?"

"Yes, just like the ones on your map. Here…" she drew a quick version of one of them, and then hopped out of his arms to cross the room. A pout covering his face quickly in her leave, he watched her from the shadows, coming back with not only the rolled and tormented map, but a bottle of rum in process. It was a vision that nearly killed his every sense, Elizabeth Swann, his Lizzie, rum in one hand and a pirate map in the other, nude beneath his tunic, and smiling, actually smiling.

"I'd be lying...if I tried t' insist I wasn't completely willing t' take ye ere' and now, Liz."

"Is that so?" she smirked, jumping back into his lap, the map sprawled out on the sheets before them, and a pull of the corked rum bottle from her hands to his.

"Absolutely. If yer intention is t' drive me insane…" a sip of the bottle to his hungry lips, and then a stinging kiss at her neck, "…then I dare say yer as close as any…"

"As any of the others, you mean."

When she turned with a cocked eyebrow to him, he wasted no time in replying in the most convincing of ways. He dropped his mouth immediately to hers, taking each lip between his teeth with a soft bite, a lick at the tip of her tongue and a suckle of her chin.

"I see no others t'night, love."

"Right." She grinned, returning to the paper and map.

Taking Jack's hand in her own, she brought it to the map's wooden surface, tracing, scraping along the symbols, markings, signs, her hand leading his index finger. He smiled into her neck as he watched, taking into his nose the smell of her hair, swampy Florida waters and wine nearly choking his senses.

"See this marking right here?"

"Aye."

"This was on one of the stones…it's the symbol that was read to mean Hell in your father's book."

"Ye don't say…" He was hardly focused on the map anymore, only her.

"Yes, and this one…I saw on the wall just inside of the cave's opening. It means, heart I believe."

Continuing to ignore, he nibbled freshly at her neck, still desperate in his mind for the full effect of the night. He still wanted to show her just what he could do for her, the things no whelp or Commodore could supply. The map, the symbols, the ageless water could wait for the passion that was filling the bed slowly.

"Jack are you even listening?"

"Mmm…" he hummed at her earlobe, both lips holding it hostage.

"Jack."

"Lizzie…" he cooed in her ear, his hand touching down into the opening of her…his shirt. When his palm rounded over her breast perfectly, she sighed into him, her head lolling back across his shoulder, but still trying to keep her calm reserve. "…As good as ye look in me shirt, dear, I want t' tear it away…"

"For what…reason?" She moaned into his cheek, holding a hand in his mass of weaved hair, as his mouth and teeth gnawed down on her aching neck and shoulder.

""Fer e'ery reason that matters t' me. T' see ye in this light…as I take you beneath me."

She choked as his index finger and thumb pinched the raw nerve of her hardened peak, just once.

"Ohh, Jack."

"Elizabeth, lay back..."

Lay Lady lay…

Lay across my big brass bed.

Stay Lady stay…

Stay with your man a while.

Whatever colors you have, in your mind

I'll show them to you, and you'll see them shine.

There was tension in his gut as she fell into his arms further, down through his fingers until she rested in the mass of sheets. It was entirely too natural a feeling, something that had been practiced thoroughly in his dreams, his personal release during the day. He eased the cotton tunic up from her waist, revealing all of her to him again, softer now, more than ready to continue with the evening. She stretched her arms out over her head as he pulled the garment away and placed it beside them, the only thing keeping from him from her now, were his pants. He waited though, and instead let his mouth taking on a feeding daze of her cheeks, lips, neck, chest, down her stomach, to the soft blackened curls of her intimacy, the plush insides of her thighs, down over her knees, kisses along her calves and eventual ankles, never ceasing for a smile or word.

Elizabeth spoke first, with lust in her eyes and breathless words escaping, "I've never felt like this before."

"Ow' do ye mean?" He replied, with a few lingering peck on the top of her foot as she laughed.

"I don't know how to properly explain it."

"Try…"

And so she did, taking a moment of thought as she closed her eyes, keeping a keen sense on his every move across her body, every placement of his mouth, his fingertips, the way his hair fell and felt against her chest and thighs in the process.

"It feels like…the most peaceful place in the world. With you, like this. I never realized it before…"

"One o' me best kept secrets, love."

She smiled calmly with a silent moan as his mouth touched down at her ticklish side and her eyes went instantly wide again.

"So I've learned. But I am appreciative…"

"Ya'?" he asked, keeping her leg in his palm but moving down towards her lips again, scanning over her eyes, her brow, every detail of her face.

"Very much so."

And without needing a reason to blow her wits or her peace, he kissed her longingly, taking with him everything he felt and knew of Elizabeth in this light, this natural state, this seclusion of minds or war. Seduction changed her immensely, as he knew it did him as well.

"Will you show me how this is meant to be, the way they speak of it?"

"Sex, Lizzie?" He smiled crookedly, with mockery that made her giggle.

"Yes. Sex."

Accepting of her near innocence in the matter, he nodded. "I will. I promised I would, and I keep all me promises. It doesn't ave' t' be a burden ye know."

"No?" She asked timidly, thinking on her one and only time with Will. It had been a burden, an expectancy, painful and draining for lack of experience on both ends. And in conclusion, had been fruitless, leading to no pregnancy as was so hoped. Elizabeth sought passion now, since proper, respectable and warranted intimacy had failed at her only shot.

"Wot' exactly…do ye know about this subject anyways." He hovered just over her, brushing her hair with one hand and tracing circles on her stomach with the other. Below him she laid, thinking harshly on her only experience, the pressure building every second to get it done right, to have it over with for the sole purpose of having been taken to bed by her husband for the very first time. It was ritual, not delight of any kind really. Carried out in haste, across the sands of a place she hardly knew or cared for, at the haunting view of a ship that had bound Will's life without question, leaving her alone forever. How could such a thing be romantic at all?

"I know nothing of it."

Jack stared deeply into her eyes, seeing the strange uncertainty there, the pain.

"I have a single experience upon me, Jack. My knowledge falters in comparison to yours."

He said nothing to this, only bowed his head slightly, hid hand still holding her hip gently.

"I might as well be virginal amidst the topic of such things."

"But yer not."

She shook her head, "And yet, it feels just so. Will and I…" she paused, not sure if she should continue in the details of their time together, whether it would be offensive to Jack. But when she looked up into his eyes to see him watching intently, she continued. "…we followed routine, what is expected of newlywed pairs, the christening of our vows…if you will."

His chin had come to rest at her stomach with a slight frown, "Sounds naught a bit amorous."

"I agree, it isn't. And for that matter, was not. We had one day to live for thousands."

"Which I imagine, is wot' dampened th' romance…"

"Greatly. Our basis was a family. Will was hopeful I would bear his son, his daughter possibly, in a ten year span, for his return." A tear cradled the corner of her eye as she thought of the moment she realized that this would not occur. "The news never came of my being with child."

Jack's thumb, dirtied but gentle, moved up to wipe away each forming teardrop.

"I'm sorry fer that at least."

It was fully genuine, his apology towards her loss, although Elizabeth herself did not consider it such. In her heart of hearts, she was glad to not have been the bearer of Will's child, for it would have bound her to land, a home, a confined space for all of ten years, alone and watchful for the horizon that would never deliver. She needed her freedom, it was the only thing left - other than what she had found inside of Jack's arms - which kept her alive. She wasn't ready for children, especially with a husband who was nothing but a breeze in the trees every decade or so.

"Can I be entirely wicked in admitting something to you, Jack?"

"As always...I appreciate yer wickedness most, lass. Go on…"

A nod of her head and she spoke softly, "I didn't want to have Will's children."

He wasn't shocked, at all. The woman who was meant to bear Turner's children was not her, he had known this longer than any of them. It was in her eyes the first time they met.

"I never wanted to give up my independence. I'm not ready to settle my life yet, I have no will or intention of being stuck in a house, waiting for a husband with a ten year sentence, feeding and clothing infants…I couldn't do it. And so I was glad at the doctor's announcement. I had retained my freedom, still."

It would have been almost impossible for him to admit to his heart at the moment, and even less of a capability to tell her, but somewhere deep inside Jack knew, that this statement had caused him to finally, indefinitely fall in love with her. She thought like he did on every possible level to be tested, Elizabeth was his counterpart in all expectancy, in all good ways and most bad. He could never knock her for her choices, because they had been his own for so many years now. Settling would be inevitable, for him, for her, for everyone in this wide world. But their agreeable struggle to maintain they chainless lives, was what had brought them together like this again, and it was what helped them to slowly realize, as in this moment, just how fate could tie them to one another.

Jack smiled once at her, closing in the open gap between their bodies to embrace her every pore. "You'll always be free right ere', darling. The Pearl will fore'er be freedom, undeniably."

"I know, Jack. And for that I owe you my life. But still I wonder..." She tilted her head against his palm when his lips came nearer to her face, "...what of making love without routine procedure? Is that acceptable here as well, Captain Sparrow?"

Admiration, fondness was aglow instantly in his eyes.

"This bed," he pulled her body down to rest closely on the sheets again, "this ere' body o' yours…" his lips touched down against the warmth of her stomach, each of her breasts, "shall ne'er be used for anything less…count on that."

She believed in his words, she believed and understood his lips as they covered hers, she believed his hands as they wound into the strings of his pants, pulling, untied in seconds of storming desperation. Elizabeth helped to remove them at her own need, seeing just what had been lying underneath the fabric for most of the day at least, since her private encounter with him earlier. It was a size that caught her mouth in a wicked and humored gape, as well as complete interest, to the fit of such. Jack leaned into her further, grazing the inside of her thigh with the tender and smooth flesh of his organ, stiff with a moist pre release coating it's tip as it danced across her skin. Bringing both of her hands to rest over her head, his fingers entwined tightly, perfectly, he held her as still as he wished, her thighs holding him to her.

"Make me a promise Miss Swann." She did not hesitate at the name.

"Anything…" A whisper with a heave of her breasts against his tight chest.

"Assure me that my name will be th' only one on yer mind tonight…"

"A little secret of my own, Jack…" she replied with a coy smile, lifting her head up a ways to his ear as he pressed down to listen. "…it always was."

A satisfied grin, a kiss on her forehead and he carefully felt his length drive into the sticky center of her body, through folds of moist, firm skin, everything he needed. Elizabeth moaned at the attack he brought against her, slowly being eased full of him, all that there was of Jack Sparrow in this world or the next. And Jack, a sting of the finest pleasure he had ever felt in the act of losing himself within a woman, followed by the grunt of the single most appropriate term for her.

"Pirate."

It spoke wonders, it moved mountains and oceans alike in the double syllable that fell from between his damp lips, covering her, the bed, the room they shared for the first time. He was entirely sunken within her heat, the depth of all that was her innocent form, and her mouth still quivering with the coming relaxation, also bowed into his own lips as they came down to steal her last breath. Jack's tongue swirled over the entire cavern of her mouth, during which her fingernails dug into his knuckles, the inside of his palms where he held them against pillows, prompting his hips to move, swivel, slowly proceed with drawing away and back.

Her simple, eluding moans brought his tense member to new heights inside of her, finding the energy to probe and explore the sensitive area, until he had so discovered the spot upon which the torment of his passion would derive. Elizabeth yelped as she felt the tip of him brush against it from within her, a tingling, burning, yanking sensation that felt just as good as it ever did bad. No one, not even a certain husband, had ever located this hidden chamber before.

"More Jack…please, more!"

Making no reservations, he swirled himself from her wetness, drawing down and out, and with the pressure of a thousand swords, came barreling up and into her once again, the weight of her entire body shifting high against the sheets as he thrust. Her only stronghold was his waist, where she kept the bones of her knees jolted inward, pleading for everything he brought. His hands became rougher upon hers, his mouth at her neck, breathing, grunting, tugging at her delicate form in ways she had only ever feared to dream. His force was magnetized each time he pulled out and fell back within, his eyes squeezed shut for momentum or something resembling it, the muscles in his shoulders stimulated by every jolt, of each touch by her most responsive places.

"I need…all of ye…Liz'beth…" his breath was haggard as each new word formed itself in mid air.

The sharp intensity of every passing moment between their bodies, inside and out, became ruled by their panting, the sound of his name on her lips, and hers between his. They felt things tighten as time was spent, loosen, plead, grind, throb and beg, every thrust stronger, every moan louder. This wasn't personal pleasure through thought, and this wasn't a wedded commencement in which Lizzie felt forced to imagine Jack's body atop hers, rather than her own husbands. This was there every hidden desire, their every ignored emotion, finally being given the right to be expressed. Jack's hips melted one after the other with another deep thrust, his teeth gritted against one another, and his mind drifted off to an added motion that he knew he needed from her. Drawing one hand down from hers and between their bodies, he found the pulsating bud of her core, vibrating with weariness against his finger when he brought it nearer, stroking gently as he continued pushing himself deeper inside of her. A firm arch of her back, followed by a whispered plea into the sheets at the side of her head, told him it was only fair to continue.

"Yes love…that's it…God, so..."

He watched himself curiously descend upon her once again, to unfathomable limits, profound territory, the view of her lips curling with the single repetition of his name, her one free hand holding his against her rhythmic nucleus, pushing his finger higher, further down as his stiffened rod followed through with its searing release. Jack's motions paused long enough to feel the sensation of his seed filling her, touching down into the most glorious of corners within her, and inducing her own discharge, the nectar flowing free around him, seeping and mixing as was needed. She whispered his name into the low light of the room, into the sheets, loud enough for him to hear and silent enough to be her secret and no one else's.

"Jack…"

The name meant everything to her, in this moment and all of the ones before and after it. She had every desire to keep him there, hovering high above her, breathing in her skin as she did his, panting with only the echo of her name on his lips. He had done as she so had wished, proven the world of sexuality to her in minutes, the most pleasurable entity she had and would ever know. Not once had she even attempted to think of Will or her life before this venture. The fountain meant nothing now, unless it would be to spend eternity tangled up in Jack's sheets, on a free wave of passion. Other than that, it all subsided into nothingness for her, and when he fell from the air to settle in beside her, his hand brushing carefully over the palm of hers on the mattress, she knew what that feeling meant. It was fear, and acceptance, fullness and love all at once.

It was sparks she'd never seen before.

It was a bed she'd never laid upon.

It was a man that days before was only a myth.

It was everything of proof.

-XOXO-

Lay Lady lay…

Lay across my big brass bed.

Until the break of day,

Let me see you make him smile.

His clothes are dirty, but his hands are clean

And you're the best thing,

That he's ever seen.

Stay Lady stay…

Stay with your man a while.

Song by Bob Dylan