Chapter 7

When Will slid off of his bike at six o'clock that evening and stood at the end of Elizabeth's driveway, staring up at her house, his only thought was that he desperately hoped he had the wrong address. He glanced at the elegant, decorative numbers that adorned the brick pillars flanking the mouth of the drive. It was the right house.

"Oh, shit."

"What's wrong?"

Will jumped involuntarily. He hadn't even noticed that Elizabeth was standing next to him. "I – you – which bookstore chain, exactly, does your father own?"

"Er… W.S.&Co. Books."

Will paled visibly. "Shit."

Elizabeth moved to stand in front of him, doing her best to block his view of the house. "Will, what's the matter?"

"That's the biggest chain in the UK!"

"So?"

"So?" Will repeated incredulously. "You – you're rich! You're filthy rich! You're high society, or – or – or whatever the hell you call filthy rich people!"

"What's your point, Will?"

"I'm a blacksmith! Your father probably makes five times my yearly salary in a month! Shit."

"Will – hey, Will! Stop looking at the house. Okay? Look at me. There you go. Now listen carefully, because this is important. I do not care how much money my father makes. I do not care how much money you make – "

"I live in a two-room apartment – "

"Will. I don't care if you live in one room. I hate this house. Heck, I wouldn't mind living in one room if it got me out of here. Okay?"

"I – maybe? Are you serious?"

"Yes!" Elizabeth laughed. "I couldn't care less about money and society. I hate society. All that matters right now is that I like you… a lot. Okay?"

"O-okay…" He glanced up at the house again, let out a nervous laugh. "Elizabeth?"

"Yeah?"

He looked back down at her, gave her a crooked smile. "I like you, too. A lot."

Riding on the back of Will's motorcycle was exciting, to say the least. Actually, it was downright exhilarating. Elizabeth loved the speed, the rush of cool air. Will had taken it slow at first, obviously not sure how she would feel about it, but once he heard her laughing he had begun to speed up, zipping down nearly empty side streets and weaving through traffic in places where the main roads couldn't be avoided. After about ten minutes or so, Elizabeth felt completely at her ease, but nonetheless, she refused to relinquish her tight grip on Will. With her arms around his waist, she could easily feel his abs beneath his shirt and jacket. His wonderfully defined abs.

At last they began to slow, gradually coming to a stop in front of the entrance to a public park.

"Is this good?" Will asked her over his shoulder.

"It's great," she answered, smiling.

As they slid off the bike, Will glanced sideways at her. "You weren't scared, were you?"

"Not at all."

"You were holding on awfully tight," he pointed out.

She smiled at him briefly, then turned away and began walking toward the park. "That was for… other reasons."

"Oh…" He sounded confused.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, grinning mischievously. "You coming, Muscles?"

"Wha – oh." He jogged after her, red-faced.

She laughed softly at him as he caught up with her. "You're cute. I bet you don't even work out, do you?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "I run sometimes. But it's mostly my work. And I do play football every once in a while."

"You any good?"

"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I'm good enough to kick Jack's ass when the guys don't put us on the same team, and that's all that really matters, right?"

Elizabeth laughed.

"Mind you, they usually don't put us on the same team, because they know that if they let us play together, no one else will ever get the ball," he said, smiling. "We've known each other a long time. It might not seem like it, but we're a good team."

"I wish I had someone like that," Elizabeth said wistfully.

Will turned toward her in surprise. "You don't have a best friend?"

"Not really," Elizabeth shook her head. "My father sent me to this tiny little private school. I never really liked anyone there much. Only rich families could afford it, so there wasn't a single girl there who wasn't used to getting their own way and having their daddy buy them everything they wanted. I couldn't stand any of them. And I told them as much."

"So what did you do when you were lonely? When you wanted a friend to talk to?"

"When I was little, I would talk to my mother. But after she died… I didn't really talk to anyone. I'd just read books."

"What kind of books?"

"Old ones. I absolutely loved Pride and Prejudice. All that romance," she smiled. "I always wanted to find my Mr. Darcy."

"So I bet you're one of those girls who's had her wedding planned since the edge of ten," Will teased.

"Nine," Elizabeth countered, smiling. "But it's changed a lot since then."

They walked in silence for a short while, until Will pointed out an old, gnarled tree a little ways off of their path. "Want to sit down?"

"Sure."

As soon as they reached the tree, Will tumbled down onto the grass, stretching out on his back. Elizabeth laughed and sat next to him, leaning against the broad trunk.

"Are you just going to lay there, then?" Elizabeth grinned.

Looking at her upside-down, Will shrugged, pushed himself upright. Then, suddenly serious, he asked, "So what's wrong? You sounded upset when I called you earlier."

Elizabeth plucked a few blades of grass, twisting them between her fingers. "I didn't tell you everything about me yesterday. There's something I left out. Someone." She frowned, still looking at the grass rather than at Will. "His name is James Norrington. He works closely with my father, so he's at the house a lot. And my father has spent the last three years trying to make me fall in love with him." She sounded distinctly annoyed. "It's not that I hate him. He's not exactly like the rich girls at that school. He's just… dull. He always wants to talk about work, and he never does anything exciting. I'm just not interested in him, but my father refuses to see it."

"Was he there when I called, then?"

"He'd just left. He knew I'd been on a date so he kept asking questions about where we'd gone and what we'd done… he asked me if I'd kissed you, for crying out loud!" She sounded upset.

On an impulse, Will reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. His hands were rough and calloused. She rather liked the feeling.

"Sometimes I wish I could just tell him to go away, she said quietly. "I hate that he thinks he has any right to know everything that goes on in my life." She sighed, brushed some hair off of her face in agitation. "I want to leave. I just want to get away, go somewhere where I can be on my own, independent, without James, or even my father, or… or any of it. I want to leave."

"Then leave," Will said simply.

"What?"

"You've got a job; you can support yourself. You told me earlier that you'd live in one room if that was what it took to get away. So get your own place. Live on your own, and do what you want."

"Live on my own?" Elizabeth said quietly, uncertainly.

"Independent. The way you want."

Elizabeth smiled weakly. "There's just one problem."

"What's that?"

"I can't cook."

Will laughed, squeezed her hand. "I'll teach you."

Elizabeth laughed as well, rather nervously. "I must be crazy. A guy I've known for a week just told me I should pack up and move out of the house I've lived in for eighteen years, and I'm actually going to do it." She looked at Will, who had stood up, brushing himself off. "Is that crazy?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted, holding out a hand to pull her up. "But then again… so is this."

"So is wha – "

She was interrupted by the answer to her question. As soon as she was off the ground, Will, rather than releasing her hands, instead pulled her toward him and kissed her hard. Much harder than he had the day before. Elizabeth's surprise lasted only a second, and before she was even quite sure of what was happening, she was kissing him back with equal enthusiasm.

When the need for air finally forced them apart, Elizabeth grinned up at Will, standing close enough that she could feel his heart racing.

"You're right. That was crazy."

"Sorry…" Will said sheepishly, trying to take a step back.

Elizabeth grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him back toward her. "Well I didn't say you shouldn't do it again, did I?"

Will wondered if it was possible for a combination of shock, adrenaline, and head-over-heels love to make someone explode. He certainly felt lightheaded enough as he held Elizabeth against him, his fingers winding through her long , golden-brown hair as he kissed her.

He felt something bump against his foot. Reluctantly pulling away from Elizabeth, he looked down at the offending object.

Uh-oh.

It was a football.

Elizabeth watched in confusion as his gaze travelled slowly upward from the ball at their feet, his face becoming steadily redder by the second. Then she realized what he was looking at, and suddenly understood exactly why.

Jack Sparrow stood not too far away, in the middle of a group of young man wearing makeshift football uniforms, smirking as if this was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.

"Oh, shit," Will muttered nervously.

Still smirking, Jack said cheerfully, "You sure wha' you two're doin' righ' now's legal in public places, mate?"

Will glared as the rest of the team laughed.

"I'm guessin' you fergot we play football 'ere ev'ry Sunday, then?"

Will glanced apologetically at Elizabeth. "Yeah… sorry."

She giggled somewhat guiltily, wrapped her arms just a little tighter around him.

"So…" Will said finally. "We could, uh… leave, then…"

"We're a man short again," Jack said. "You in or out?"

Smiling, Elizabeth nudged Will lightly. "Go on. I want to see you play."

Will shrugged out of his jacket. "All right, fine." He grinned fiercely. "You're on, Sparrow. And you're not getting this ball back."

"Well, you were right," Elizabeth said with a smile as she swung off of Will's bike at her drive two hours later. "You never did let him have the ball back."

Will laughed. "I've never seen him so pissed off. That's the first time in years that he hasn't even come close to scoring a goal."

Elizabeth laughed, until she looked up at the house and her smile faded. "I don't want to go home right now. But I guess I should. I'm not moving out just yet." She looked up at Will, eyes shining in the faint light. "Thank you for listening. I really needed that."

Will pulled her to him and hugged her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I know."

She hugged him back tightly, wondering how it was possible that she could feel so wonderfully comfortable in the arms of a man she had only known for a week.

"You can call me anytime, you know," Will said, releasing her and stepping back just enough to see her face. "If you're upset, or lonely, or you just want someone to talk to. Even if it's the middle of the night. I mean it," he said earnestly.

"That's sweet," Elizabeth smiled. She kissed him softly. "Goodnight, Will."

"'Night."

Will stood there at the end of her driveway, leaning against his bike and watching as she walked slowly toward the house. When she reached the front door, she turned back and waved once, then disappeared inside. Will swung onto his bike and drove slowly away, barely seeing the road in front of him as he remembered the feeling of her lips pressed against his.

I think that was my longest chapter yet! To quote Agnes from Despicable Me: "IT'S SO FLUFFY, I'M GONNA DIE!"