Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Disney.
A/N: I won't waste your time with excuses for the half-a-year that's passed. Hopefully you're still willing to invest in this story, and seeing an update will brighten your day. As always, thanks to those who reviewed, all those months ago.
Summary: As Jack ferries Elizabeth Turner between her island and her husband, their relationship grows into something no one could have ever foreseen. J/E.
Between Dark and Light: A Decade of Love
By: Sinnamon Spider
Year Six
"Cat…rat…bat…sat." William turned to his mother for approval, his fingers tracing under the words she had written on a piece of paper.
Elizabeth nodded. "Very good," she praised. "Now, write them all out."
William grasped the chalk, carefully writing the words on the slate Elizabeth had bought at the Able's store. With William's fifth birthday having passed in February, she had begun to teach him his letters and numbers and to her relief and pride, he was doing quite well with them.
She turned to the window. She was expecting Jack within a few days. Even though she had seen him only six months ago, after spending the entire winter with him, she was feeling his absence more than ever now.
It had been strange, having a man around for such a long period of time; she hadn't experienced it since her father was alive, and that had been quite a different matter. She had never spent so long with Will, aside from the time they had on the various ships, and even then they had never been completely alone.
Spending the winter with Jack had almost made her forget who she was married to.
"Jack!"
Her son's exclamation made her jump. "What?" she demanded, spinning toward him. William pointed out the other window. She had replaced the oil-paper with glass only a few weeks ago, and through the clear pane she could see the pirate captain climbing the sandy ridge. He caught sight of them and waved.
"What on earth are you doing here?" she cried, swinging the door open. He grinned at her, walking up the dirt path to chuck her lightly under the chin. "Happy to see you too, love."
"You're not due for three more days!" she objected. She could feel her face flushing, her body reacting to even that light, brief touch. He shrugged easily. "So I'm early. Hello, Master Turner." He greeted Will, who had abandoned his lesson and dashed to the corner, where the wooden sword that Jack had made him last spring stood. He showed the sword to the pirate. "Jack! Mama and I have been practicing. Can I show you?"
Jack started to reply, but Elizabeth cut over him. "No, for heaven's sake, he just got here." She whisked the sword from her son's grasp. "And since he's here now, I need you to run to Able's and get a few things."
She ignored William's moan of disgust and Jack's amused face. Quickly writing a short list on the paper she had written William's lesson on, she handed it to her son. "Go. You and Jack can play when you get back."
Pacified by this promise, William tore out of the house and down the ridge, heading for the village centre.
Elizabeth turned to Jack, who was wearing a peculiar expression. "What?" she asked, suddenly defensive without knowing why.
"Practicing, eh?" he asked, taking a step towards her. She blinked, and then realized what he meant. She turned the wooden sword, still in her hands. "Oh. Yes, no thanks to you and your little revelation last time you were here. He badgered me for three days straight until I agreed to teach him a little."
He stepped towards her again, that strange look still on his face. She stared at him. "Jack, what are you thinking?" she asked, well aware of how dangerous that question could be.
His eyes flicked from the sword in her hands to her face, and she suddenly identified his expression.
Desire.
He closed the distance between them with another step, but continued moving, walking around to stand behind her. His arms encircled her, hands finding hers on the hilt of the sword and raising it to a defence position. She pressed against him and could feel the confirmation of his inner thoughts pressing back.
The absurdity of it all was tucked somewhere in her mind; that he had become aroused by seeing her with a sword, but the thought was smothered by her own answering rush of desire.
He was moving now, slowly, smoothly, performing a basic series of movements. She remembered this series and moved with him: parry, riposte, lunge, recover. The eroticism of swordplay had never occurred to her before.
She had learned this series and others with her first fencing teacher: Will. A few days after Jack's somewhat bungled escape from the Port Royal wall, Will had come to her with two of his swords. "I have a feeling he'll be back," he had said, "And you'll need to be able to defend yourself."
Will had been an excellent teacher, but his calm, precise instructions had been merely recitation. As Jack moved with her through the series, his breath heavy and warm on her neck, his hands strong on hers, she felt as though she had never understood the exercises so clearly.
His hands released hers, abruptly, and hers loosened. The sword clattered to the ground, but neither of them noticed. She spun in his embrace, trying to catch the breath that had quickened, and not from exertion.
His coffee eyes were intense, staring down at her. His hands gripped her waist, drawing her closer.
The door banged open and she wrenched herself away as William came back, a large parcel carefully balanced in his arms. "That was quick," she said, and her voice quivered. She took the package from him.
William shrugged. "I hurried. I wanted to practice with Jack. He's good, Mama, you should come and watch."
She laughed, a bit hysterically. "No, thank you, I've got to get us ready, seeing as I wasn't expecting Jack for a little while yet."
"Oh. Where's my sword?" William asked, and Elizabeth's hands faltered on the parcel. Her son continued. "Oh, Jack's already got it." He dashed outside, calling to the pirate captain. Elizabeth didn't dare watch them practice.
William had fallen asleep early, tired from a hard day of exercise. He was a quick learner and Jack was a patient teacher. Elizabeth tucked him in with a smile before returning to the table, where Jack still sat. He grabbed her as she passed by, pulling her down onto his lap, his mouth meeting hers even as she was falling.
Her nerves were still raw from her own fencing lesson and she gripped his shirt collar, twisting her legs around to straddle his hips. Her eagerness inflamed him, and he stood and lifted her with him, cradling his hands under her buttocks and carrying her to her bed. He laid her down, but paused before joining her, admiring her from above; her flushed face, her parted lips, her arching back. She waited only seconds before darting up to pull him on top of her, and the rest of the night was lost in pleasure.
She slipped from his arms in the earliest morning, and quietly pulled on her dressing gown and left the house. The sun was peeking over the ocean, still dark and calm, as she sat on the sandy ridge.
"Couldn't sleep?"
She started at the sound of his voice, cursing his catlike silence. "No."
He settled down beside her, following her gaze across the water to where the sun was climbing higher, colouring the sky in purples and pinks.
"Was Will angry?" she asked. She was feeling rather ambiguous about her husband's reaction to Jack living in her house for half a year. Perhaps if he was bothered, it would be enough to make him leave her…
She shook herself. What kind of insanity was this? Her heart twisted painfully, caught as ever between Will and the pirate who was speaking now.
"No, he said he understood. Said he knew I wasn't well – he'd seen me."
Elizabeth turned to stare at him, confused. "What?"
Jack nodded. "He'd seen me, on the other side. Not all there, but enough to know it were me." He shrugged. "Guess I was closer to death's door than I thought."
"He saw you," she echoed, eyes wide with fear. God, how close had she coming to losing him? Her hands reached out, seeking his warm, firm body even though she could see him before her, healthy and alive as ever.
His face changed, careless disregard for his own life giving way to concern as her skin turned white and her hands shook. "Hey, now, I'm still here, aren't I?" He caught her trembling hands in his, but he wasn't prepared when she threw herself at him.
"You almost died," she choked out. "What would I have done if you died?"
He stuttered, floored by her reaction. "I…but I din't, Liz. I'm right here!" He tightened his embrace, pulling her closer, showing her that he was far from dead, no matter how close he had been.
"What would I have done if you died?" she repeated, terror evident in her voice. He shook her gently. "Elizabeth!"
She pulled back far enough to look at him, and her wide eyes made him anxious. He cupped her face in his hands, holding steady. "Liz. You'd have been fine. You'd have kept on raisin' your boy, waitin' for your Will. 'm not your whole life."
She laughed then, wildly. "Oh, but you are, Jack, you are. You've wormed your way so deep into me that I can't ever separate you from anything else." She laughed again, but her voice cracked and tears began to course down her cheeks.
He stared down at her, concern deepening to fear. "Jesus, Elizabeth. Stop it. You're scarin' me." He took her hands from her face and wrapped his arms around her again, tucking her head under his chin, gently rocking her back and forth. She clutched at him almost painfully, sobs wracking her slender frame. "All right, love, you're all right. You're all right," he murmured softly.
He held her tightly until her tears subsided, and when she squirmed in his arms he let her go. She swiped her sleeve across her face, wiping away the wet tracks. When she emerged from the sleeve, she stared at him, her red-rimmed eyes angry. He cringed away from her as her fury broke over him.
"Don't you ever be so candid about things like that again, Jack!" she screeched.
He let his head droop, taking her rage in silence. At least if she was yelling at him, she wouldn't have that wide-eyed terror on her face; an expression that had shaken him to the core. Anger he could deal with. Tears, even. But that frail, broken look was one he intended to never experience again.
They boarded the Pearl that day, and not for the first time, Elizabeth wondered what the crew thought of Jack's furloughs at her house. Most of them she didn't know personally; Jack's crew changed so often. But the mainstays – Cotton, Marty, Pintel and Ragetti – had known her for years now, and while none of them ever said anything about how she and Jack spent their time together on her island, she noted their less-than-coy glances and the way they hurried to change the topic when she approached.
Gibbs, however, was not so close-mouthed. After reacquainting himself with William and entrusting the boy to the care of the more reputable crew, he met Elizabeth at the main mast, where she had been about to climb to her perch in the crow's nest; ostensibly to look for the Dutchman, but mostly to watch Jack.
Said pirate captain was preening at the wheel, examining his reflection in the gold leaf that, Elizabeth was somewhat surprised to see, was still decorating the Pearl's surfaces. He did not notice his First Mate approach Elizabeth.
"'Liz'beth, I've been meanin' t'speak with you," Gibbs said quietly, sneaking a surreptitious glance at his peacocking captain. Elizabeth smiled to herself. Gibbs was a mother hen, given to fussing over ship and crew, but mostly he kept a careful eye out for Jack, whom Elizabeth thought he viewed almost as a son. She had no idea how old Gibbs was, but he had not been young when he sailed under Norrington and accompanied them on the crossing from London.
She liked Gibbs, to be sure. He was a wealth of information, both in general and specifically about Jack, although she could never be sure if he was telling her the actual truth or just what Jack told him to say. He had been the one bright spot on her voyage to Jamaica when she was twelve, regaling her with stories and tales despite his obvious discomfort with having a woman on board, and when she had first come face to face with him after eight years, it was with relief and pleasure that she had taken in his craggy face and twinkling eyes. Gibbs was ever a comfort to her.
"Now, it's no business of mine how you spend your time, Liz, and far be it from me to spread any rumours about you, but when it comes to Jack…well…" The pirate trailed off, looking supremely uncomfortable, and Elizabeth took pity on him.
"Joshamee," she began, and his expression grew more serious at her use of his given name. "I know you care very much about Jack. So do I."
He nodded sagely. "I knows it, Liz. Seen it in you since the first days. And I beg your forgiveness for my forwardness, but I see a lot of Jack in young William."
She smiled again. These pirates were a funny lot. "Yes. Jack is his father, I'm fairly certain."
Gibbs frowned in return. "I thought as much. Does he know?"
She nodded, then paused, unsure. "I don't know exactly what he knows. He knows that William could be his or Will's. I'm not certain if he thinks he is William's father or not. He treats William well, almost like a son, but I…I don't know."
"Mmm," Gibbs hummed vaguely. "Well, it's your secret to tell, and I need not say that it'll be kept safe with me." He looked at her peculiarly and not for the first time, she felt that schoolmarm air that Gibbs possessed. He was disappointed in her, and she was disappointed in herself because of it. "Just this: I ask you to be careful how you treat Jack. He's a tough ol' bird, but he's taken a lot of abuse and it's done damage to him. I see how he is with you, Liz, and it makes me happy to see him so happy, but I can't help but remembering that you're a married woman, and maybe he doesn't think of that as much as he should."
She ducked her head, chastised. Even Gibbs was aware that she was hurting Jack. She wondered what kept him coming back to her.
The older pirate placed a dirty hand under her chin, tipping her head back up. "Now then, no sulkin', or he'll be wonderin' what we're discussin' that's makin' you so unhappy."
Elizabeth darted her eyes to the wheel, but Jack was busily examining his compass, and she wondered what he was searching for. But just then there was a noisy burst of spray and the Flying Dutchman surfaced from the depths.
Will was, as Elizabeth had hoped, happy to see William grown so big and having made progress with his reading and writing, but when the boy showed the wooden sword to the man he called "Father", she noted a pang of sorrow in her husband's eyes and began to regret allowing Jack to teach William. It was, after all, a father's right and duty to teach his son the basics of swordplay, and Will was probably the better teacher.
He said nothing disparaging, however, and watched William perform the same series that Elizabeth and Jack had so deliciously gone through. Just the sight of the series made her knees weaken, and she was glad Jack had elected to remain on the Pearl for once.
Will sent his son off with some crew members and approached her, covering up the sadness still on his face. "He's very good," he said, kissing her cheek. Elizabeth nodded and spoke frantically. "Will, I'm so sorry. Jack came and began to teach him – "
Her husband's eyes narrowed, just fractionally, and her heart stopped as she realized her mistake. "On the Pearl, I mean. He came on the Pearl and began to teach William. I never even thought of stopping him." She smiled hurriedly. "And of course, Jack told him you trained me, and he wouldn't leave me alone until I gave him a lesson or two."
Will smiled, but it wasn't his usual beaming smile, and Elizabeth cursed herself for ever hoping that he would turn suspicious. For all his faith and trust, Will was not an idiot. If she kept handing him clues so obviously, he would soon catch on, and it broke her heart to think of hurting him.
"So, what have you been up to?" she asked, a little too brightly, and Will seized the change of topic with an eagerness that pulled her tightly-wound nerves even tighter.
Though she knew it was risky, she couldn't resist the siren call, and when she slipped from Will's cabin out onto the deck, she found Jack waiting in the rigging, as she knew she would.
His face brightened when he saw her, but darkened again when he noticed her worried eyes and wringing hands. "What, love?" he demanded, lifting his strong hands to her shoulders and massaging the knots of tension that had been forming all day.
She moaned, turned to jelly at his touch, as always, and her head tipped backwards. But her voice was still fretful. "I think Will is catching on, Jack. He's not an idiot – " Jack snorted behind her – " – No, he's not. He's far more clever than you give him credit for. Ahh." She gasped as his talented hands located a knot just above her shoulder blade and dug in, working out the clenched muscle. "I should have never have let you teach William to use that sword."
"Bit late for that, innit?" His hands fell from her shoulders and she lifted her head at the lack of contact, but they soon caressed her hips, and this time her head fell back onto his shoulder as his lips came around to brush her ear.
"Elizabeth?"
The call came from the stairs leading down to the cabins, and Elizabeth uttered a silent shriek when she recognized Will's voice. As his boots sounded on the deck, Elizabeth was suddenly aware of the loss of Jack's body heat. With barely a creak of ropes, he had disappeared.
And just in time; Will rounded the corner and saw her standing, alone, with her hand at her throat. "Liz?"
"You startled me," she said, her voice pitched high with distress. Will frowned at her, his brow furrowed. "Sorry," he said gently. "What are you doing out here?"
She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. After so long on land, it's sometimes hard to sleep on the water."
He nodded, and then held out a hand to her. "Well, come back to bed, at least." His brown eyes regarded her with an expression she couldn't place, and she accepted his hand, wracked with guilt yet again.
After three days, the tension growing between them was too much to bear, and Will made a weak excuse about hearing of a proposed massacre off the African Coast. Elizabeth merely agreed quietly and gathered their things. William put up a bit of a fuss; he had begun to notice that he didn't spend as much time as his father as his little friends from the village, and the reasoning was beyond him, and when Elizabeth snapped at him in her anger at herself, he resorted to pouting.
Will bid her a brief farewell as the Dutchman linked boards with the Pearl, but spent a bit more time with his moping son, and though Elizabeth didn't hear their exchange, William was noticeably brighter as he tromped onto the Pearl. "Dad's gonna teach me some new moves next time we see him," he reported to his mother.
"Wonderful," Elizabeth enthused. The boards separated with a clank and the Dutchman disappeared with a ferocious splash, taking Elizabeth's hope of reconciliation with her husband with it to the bottom of the sea.
They took a more direct course back to her island than usual, Jack noting, but not commenting, on her subdued mood. When he delivered her and William to her house and turned to leave, she stopped him with a gentle hand on his sleeve. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "Don' be. I know this double life can't be easy on you." He tossed her a saucy wink, but it fell flat in the anxious atmosphere. She dropped her eyes. "I don't know that you'll need to come by next year, Jack."
She felt his reaction and hurried to look up. "No, not like that," she assured him, smoothing the line of rejection that formed between his browns with her hand. "It's not that I don't want to see you. I just don't know that Will will want to see me." It hurt to admit it, aloud, and it was his turn to comfort her, brushing his hand along her smooth cheek before he disappeared below the sandy ridge, leaving her alone with her pain.