"What are the other places?"

Barbossa wasn't sure that he heard Elizabeth correctly. "What did yeh say?"

"The other places for a man to…you know."

He smirked at her bold question and decided to push her boundaries. "Well, I'd really have to show yeh."

Elizabeth bit her lip as she considered his request. "Okay then. Show me."

Barbossa couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was it really going to be that easy with her? Certainly there was a catch somewhere. "If I do, that means yeh'll have to participate."

He could see the hesitant look that danced across her face, but luckily for him, her curiosity got the better of her as it was wont to do. "Fine. What do I do?"

Reaching for Elizabeth's wrist, Barbossa pulled her towards him. "Get on yer knees in front of me on the floor," he instructed.

Elizabeth did as he said, but he saw how her eyes enlarged when he loosened his breeches just enough to free himself. He wrapped his hand around his length, sliding it up and down as the foreskin covered and uncovered the head repeatedly. As he watched her watching his hand, he couldn't believe that she would really do this, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth – well, so to speak. He'd happily take whatever she would offer.

"The first place is here," Barbossa told her as he ran the tip of his cock along her lips. "So, open up." She opened her mouth some, but not enough for him. "Wider." When he slid in and felt the warmth of her, he groaned. It always had been his favorite. "Close your mouth around me, but be mindful of yer teeth. Yeah. That be nice. A little faster." He could tell that she was inexperienced with such things, but he didn't mind. He'd be more than happy to let her practice on him all she wanted, in fact. "Take more of me. Good girl. Now wrap yer hand there…like that…and use both yer hand and yer mouth…mmm…exactly." He fought the urge to thrust into her mouth; it felt so damn good. She could finish him off in a couple minutes if he'd let her, but it wasn't time for that just yet – she had asked him a question, and he was answering, so he reluctantly pulled himself from the warm cocoon of her mouth.

"Are yeh ready for the second?"

"I agreed to it, didn't I?" she replied, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

Barbossa certainly did appreciate Elizabeth's fortitude. "There will be no changin' yer mind," he warned her. "What I've started, I will finish. Do yeh understand?" When she nodded in agreement, he helped her up. "Bend over the edge of the bed." Elizabeth gave him a funny look but hesitantly complied. He reached under her to loosen her breeches and then slid them over her slim hips and down her legs. He palmed each buttock and squeezed. She could have used a bit more meat on her, but he would enjoy this regardless. He leaned over her so that he could kiss and nip at her neck while he generously licked his middle finger before slipping it between her buttocks. When he pushed against the taboo opening, Elizabeth stiffened and cried out.

"There?!"

Barbossa chuckled, purposely allowing his weight to hold her down. "Aye, there," he confirmed, easing the tip of his finger past the ring of muscle that had clamped down on him. When Elizabeth tried to squeeze her legs together, he kicked them apart. Continuing to lick and kiss around the shell of her ear, he worked his finger in and out slowly, and it was only a minute or so before she relaxed some.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Barbossa looked towards the door. Who the bloody hell was bothering him now? This was not a good time.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Then he woke up.

Sporting a weeping and throbbing erection that was bordering on painful, Barbossa angrily climbed from his bed, grabbed his coat to cover himself and then stomped to the door.

Flinging it open, Barbossa growled, "Someone best be dead to be disturbin' my slumber at this hour!" It was well after midnight, and the crew knew not to disturb his sleep unless there was an extreme emergency.

Mr. Gibbs took a step backwards from the disheveled and obviously irate Barbossa. "Apologies, Cap'n, but Elizabeth fell," he explained quickly. "She thinks her ankle be sprained."

"And yeh couldn't take care of it yerself?" Barbossa barked. He had a wonderfully sordid dream that he was desperate to finish, in more ways than one.

Mr. Gibbs winced and shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "She asked for you, Cap'n."

Barbossa's gruff expression softened instantly upon hearing his crewman's statement. She'd asked for him? "I see. Well…is her ankle wrapped yet?"

"No, Cap'n."

Barbossa nodded. "Gather some bandages and bring 'em to her cabin."

"Aye."

Mr. Gibbs set about his task while Barbossa walked the handful of steps to Elizabeth's cabin and knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

Barbossa opened the door to find Elizabeth sitting at the small table with her ankle resting on the seat of the other chair.

"What happened?" he asked, walking towards her, thankful that his physical condition from minutes ago was gone. The images, however, were not.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. "Rope coils," she spat, crossing her arms in frustration. "I tripped on a bloody rope coil and twisted my ankle."

Barbossa recognized both her anger and embarrassment, but he found her dejectedness endearing. "What were yeh doin' out so late, anyway?" he asked curiously.

Elizabeth met his eyes, but then she looked away. There was no point going over it again – he knew what plagued her thoughts. "Couldn't sleep," she answered with a shrug.

Mr. Gibbs walked in with the bandages then. "Here yeh are, Cap'n. Want me to –"

"No. Go back to yer duties," Barbossa interrupted, taking the material from him. "I'll see to her."

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs replied, closing the door behind him.

Barbossa stood in front of Elizabeth and held up the bandages. "I don't suppose yeh know how to wrap a sprain?" He decided not to press the issue of why she was wandering around. At least she wasn't sobbing in the brig again.

Offering up her big, brown eyes, Elizabeth shook her head. She felt silly – she did know how – but for some reason, she hoped that he'd do it for her. She knew it was ridiculous to lie about that, but she was hurt and wanted a little attention. His attention if he'd give it.

Barbossa sat down across from her after picking up her foot and gently placing it into his lap. He didn't see any bruising yet, but it was swollen. Reaching for the cloth, he began to wrap it around her foot and ankle, trying to ignore the very vivid memories of his completely inappropriate yet ridiculously erotic dream about her that wanted to surface both physically and mentally.

Elizabeth had to remind herself to breathe. Barbossa's weathered and calloused hands were feather soft against her sensitive bare skin, and it was evident that he was making great effort to be gentle. Though her ankle throbbed in pain, she smiled in appreciation. And that's when he looked up.

"What's the grin for?" Barbossa asked curiously.

"Were you this careful with your son when he was a baby?"

Barbossa smiled then as he finished her wrap. "Just because I be a gruff and scabrous old pirate don't mean I can't be tender when the situation calls for it." He brazenly rubbed the pad of his thumb lightly along the bottoms of her toes and winked to punctuate his point. "Yeh'll need to stay off yer ankle for a few days to let it heal."

Elizabeth, who'd been reeling from the sensation that his brief touch upon her toes had caused, quickly snapped out of her reverie.

"A few days?!"

"Aye."

"But – I can't stay cooped up in here all day!"

Barbossa chuckled, placed her foot back on the table and stood up. "Then next time, yeh should watch where yer goin'," he teased. "If yeh'd been in bed where yeh belonged, this never would have happened in the first place."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and petulantly crossed her arms. Leave it to the captain to go from sweet to sour in a heartbeat. "Thanks so much for that bit of wisdom."

"Yer welcome," he said as he headed towards the door. "Now, if yeh be done hurtin' yerself, I be goin' back to bed." He opened the door and pointed to her ankle. "And keep that up."

Elizabeth sighed when he left. This is awful, she thought. Now, I'm going to be stuck in here with nothing to do. Damn rope coil.

Barbossa's hands sure felt nice though, she thought, but then she shook her head. Surely she hadn't really enjoyed his touch. She was missing her husband was all. She was just hungry for Will's affection.

When Elizabeth climbed into bed a few minutes later, it wasn't her husband's touch that kept her from going to sleep.

The next couple days crawled by at a snail's pace for Elizabeth. She stayed in her cabin and kept her ankle elevated as much as possible. Meals were brought to her by Gibbs, and Ragetti brought her his Bible so she'd have something to read (she thanked him for his nice gesture even though she didn't intend to read it), but it was her thoughts that were the real problem.

Elizabeth couldn't forget Barbossa's hands upon her skin and how fantastic they had felt no matter how hard she tried or how much she tried to think about her husband. It was as if she could still feel the warmth right then, even though it had been two days ago. It was maddening, really. She'd desperately tried to remember what Will's hands had felt like when he'd touched her, but she couldn't. That made her sad and a little confused.

And she didn't need sad and confused right now. She was already melancholy because of being stuck in the cabin and frustrated because she couldn't remember how her husband's hands felt on her body – she didn't need to add Barbossa into the mix, yet he was there, whether she liked it or not.

"Oh Will," she breathed, shaking her head. "I ruined us, didn't I?"

Remembering the moment that she'd decided Will's future, Elizabeth hung her head as the tears fell. She'd made him stab the heart because she couldn't bear the thought of him dying, effectively forcing him to have to ferry souls, whether he wanted to or not, and instead of pining away for him, she was relishing the touch of another man while he carried out the task that she'd chosen for him. She really was a horribly selfish person.

Later that night, a knock on the door told her that Gibbs was there with dinner.

"Feelin' all right there, Elizabeth?" he asked, handing her a plate and a mug.

"I guess," she answered with a shrug, but her despondency was obvious. "Thank you for the food."

Elizabeth picked at her food after Gibbs left; she wasn't really hungry. Too many thoughts were circling around in her head, and she was tired of them. What she wanted was rum and lots of it. Where is Jack when you need him, she thought lightheartedly.

An hour later, there was another knock as the captain entered, one arm purposely kept behind his back. "Gibbs bring yeh yer meal?" he asked.

"He did."

Barbossa glanced at the plate on the floor beside her bed, noting that most of the food was still on it. "Not hungry?" He'd noticed her sullen disposition the past couple days, but he'd hoped that it would work itself out. There just wasn't anything to do for a sprain but wait, unfortunately.

Elizabeth glanced down at the plate. "Not terribly," she answered, pausing to play with the frayed edge of her blanket. "I would like some rum, though."

Barbossa chuckled and shook his head. "Yeh got that from Sparrow, didn't yeh?" the captain asked rhetorically. "How about some wine instead?" He pulled his arm from behind his back to reveal a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Elizabeth smiled at his kindness. "Sounds lovely," she replied. "I need the thoughts in my head to stop."

"Aye," Barbossa nodded. "A few glasses of this will do just that." He sat down on the edge of her bed and poured a glass for each of them.

"Thank you." Elizabeth took the goblet and enjoyed a long sip of the red wine. The rich berry flavor was very pleasing to her, and she was glad that he thought to bring it. When she shifted uncomfortably, she was reminded of how tired she was of staying in bed; sitting around did not appeal to her. "How much longer will this take to heal?" she asked about her ankle.

"Depends," Barbossa answered. "Few more days maybe."

"A few more days?" Elizabeth shrieked. "That's awful!" She knew that she was pouting, but she didn't care. She was miserable. Stupid rope coil. Stupid sprain. Stupid thoughts in her head.

The captain laughed at her exclamation. "Let's hope just a couple more days, aye?"

Elizabeth sighed and swung her legs over the side. "Well, I've got to get up for just a moment," she remarked. "Lying here like this is making me mental."

He knew getting up was not something that she needed to do. "What do yeh think yer doin'?"

"I'm going to stand up for just a minute," Elizabeth told him, placing her glass of wine on the small table beside the bed.

"Yeh need to stay in bed."

"I'm going to stand up and stretch."

Barbossa rolled his eyes and set his glass on the floor. He stood and offered her his arm, knowing she'd require some help. He knew better than to argue with her as her fingers curled around his forearm.

Elizabeth stood on her good foot so she could stretch her leg and back muscles while extending her other arm above her head. "Mmm…that feels much better." Unfortunately, she stretched a little too far and lost her balance. When she fell forward, the captain grabbed her to keep her from toppling over.

Elizabeth, who had grabbed onto Barbossa, as well, looked up at the captain then. The way he stared at her prevented her from looking away from him. It had been a long time since they'd been that close. His usual smug and cocky demeanor was absent, but she wasn't sure what had taken its place. She liked it, though it made her stomach feel strange.

Captain Barbossa gazed at the beautiful young woman in his arms and reveled in their unintended embrace. It had been too long for such pleasures. Curiosity shrouded her face, but she didn't pull away from him. When he realized that he wanted nothing more at that very moment than to press his lips to hers, he knew that bringing her along on his venture to the Colonies had been a bad idea. Reality hit him hard; she was naught but a girl, and he was old enough to be her father – not to mention that she was a married woman.

"Can't even stand up without falling over," Elizabeth finally spoke with an embarrassed smile. "Thank you, Captain." She let go of him and settled herself back in bed. Her heart raced as she reached for her glass of wine, and she suddenly found it difficult to look at him. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but whatever it was, it hadn't happened before.

Barbossa immediately missed her warmth. It had been easy for him to brush off Tia's advances years ago after she brought him back, but Elizabeth was another story. The softness of her skin felt like silk against his weathered flesh, and the heat that radiated off of her was more than any fire could provide. Memories of women from his past flooded his mind, and suddenly their faces were all replaced with Elizabeth's. He wanted her, but she was not available, so any efforts towards such a goal would only be foolish. And he was no fool. The madness had to stop.

"There be business for me to attend to," Barbossa stated suddenly and walked briskly for the door. He had to get away from her, and right then, before he did something that he might not regret.

In confusion, Elizabeth called out after him, but he left without acknowledging her. She really hadn't wanted him to go, especially not then. She'd been enjoying his visit.

But the door closed behind him. Elizabeth looked at his glass and wine bottle on the floor, and she realized that her heart was still beating madly. Just like with her foot, she could still feel the captain's touch, and she couldn't help but compare his with Will's. Her husband's embrace had been cautious and unsure while the captain's had been confident and strong. Elizabeth shook her head. Surely she wasn't truly attracted to the captain. Maybe it was what Jack had said; maybe she was just curious. Captain Barbossa was not exactly handsome per se, but his ruggedness made him quite distinguished nonetheless, when he wasn't barking orders at the crew, anyway. And she had been allowed to see a side of him that those past the door never saw. He was a pirate, yes. He could kill and plunder, but yet he was decent and honorable, too. She was beginning to understand that opposites could exist harmoniously together – one could be both good and bad at the same time.

She still didn't understand why he'd left like he had. She felt worse than she had before Gibbs brought her dinner, and she set her wine glass down on the floor beside her. She didn't want it anymore. She didn't know what she wanted.

Or maybe she did, and that was the problem.

The next day passed excruciatingly slower than the previous ones had, and Elizabeth's sadness and frustration had twisted into anger. Cotton had let the bird stay with her for a little while, and later Ragetti brought little Jack by to entertain her, but the captain never visited her. She tried not to think much of it, knowing the ship demanded much of his attention, but certainly he could have taken a few minutes to check on her. She was king, after all!

More than that, she thought that they had a sort of friendship. They dined together, they discussed things with each other that they didn't discuss with anyone else, and they had quite a colorful past together that she thought gave them a different relationship than either of them had with anyone else on the ship. She was hurt; she couldn't deny it. And she didn't need to feel hurt by him on top of everything else.

Please don't be cross with me - I've been having an awful emotional struggle the past few months. Losing your mom is DAMN hard, and you'll never know just HOW hard until it happens. Grief is not like depression; it's a completely different game. I've had DAYS where I was just useless and incapable of doing anything but existing, and then I've had days where I'm fine. Just today, I was looking at Christmas cards, and it hit me that I would no longer be buying my usual 'parents' card. It sucks.

Anyway, I do have a few chapters of this story written out that I'm working on editing, so hopefully I'll have another in the next few weeks. As those who have followed my stories previously know...it may take me a while to post, but when I do, it will be worth it. At least, I try my best to make it worth it.

Reviews always encouraged. No one likes to hear crickets after a performance, yeah? Thanks for reading.