When Mr. Gibbs delivered Elizabeth's dinner the next night, she was ready to explode, demanding to know where the captain was. She'd sat for another entire day with no word from him, and she was beyond angry.

"He be in his cabin," Gibbs told her. "Said he didn't want to be disturbed."

Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Is that so? Would you please tell him that the Pirate King would like to see him?"

Gibbs looked uncertain. "Er…I'm not sure…"

"Go!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pointing to the door.

"Mother's love," Gibbs muttered under his breath as he quickly left and knocked on the captain's door. He was not the smartest man on the ship, but even he sensed that something was amiss between the captain and Elizabeth.

"I'm not to be disturbed," the captain called out.

"Please, Cap'n," Gibbs pushed, wringing his hat in his hands. "Elizabeth sent me."

Captain Barbossa rolled his eyes and sighed where he sat at the table. "Get in," he barked, watching as Gibbs stepped inside and remained by the closed door.

"What does the girl want now?"

"Sir, she said to tell you that the Pirate King would like to see you."

"What for?"

"She didn't say, Cap'n."

Barbossa grinned in his antagonizing way. "Tell her I'm disinclined to acquiesce to her request," he instructed, noticing Gibbs' perplexed look at his reply. "Go!"

Gibbs exited the cabin quickly and went back to Elizabeth's. When he repeated what the captain had told him, she gasped.

"How dare he!" Elizabeth exclaimed, swinging her feet around and off the bed. "Help me, Mr. Gibbs. The king is going to pay the captain a visit whether he wants it or not."

"I'm not sure that you should –"

"Help me, or I'll crawl over there myself!"

Knowing better than to argue with either one of them, Gibbs put his arm around Elizabeth and helped her hop her way to the cabin. "Leave me," she instructed when they reached the captain's door. When Gibbs started to walk away, she touched his arm. "Thank you," she added with a small smile – she hadn't meant to get mad at him.

Gibbs was all too happy to leave as he didn't want to be around for the scene that would undoubtedly take place in just a matter of moments. He did think it odd that she was so upset over not seeing the captain, but he reminded himself that it wasn't his business, anyway.

Elizabeth's adrenaline was pulsing under her skin, but she was more frustrated than anything else. Not bothering to knock, she opened the door to find the captain at the table looking at maps, plotting and tracking their course to Madagascar. He looked up the second that she hopped in.

"What be the meanin' of this?" Barbossa roared, standing up, ire burning in his eyes. "Yeh can't just barge in here! Get out!"

"I will not! I'm king! I have every right to barge in here!"

"No yeh don't!"

"Yes I do!"

"I could make yeh walk the plank!"

"And I could lock you in the brig!"

Barbossa narrowed his eyes at Elizabeth. "You wouldn't dare," he growled.

Elizabeth crossed her arms and smirked. "Try me."

"Get out!" he yelled again, pointing towards the door.

"I will not!" she repeated. "You've ignored me for two days, and I want to know why!"

Barbossa clenched his fists and rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to avoid her. He should have known that the fiery side of her would win over and demand attention. He had to admit that he was surprised, though. He didn't think that she cared about his company all that much, and that notion doused some of his earlier fire. "Did I not send over food and drink for yeh?" he barked. "I even sent Jack over to keep yeh company."

"The monkey as company?" Elizabeth scoffed. "Oh, please! Don't insult me so."

Overwhelmed with frustration at trying to stay away from someone that he wanted so badly, Barbossa stormed over to her in his uneven stomp. "I don't have to send over anythin', yeh know," he told her, voice low. "I could just let yeh sit over there with nothin'. Better yet, I could make yeh hobble around all day and still work."

Elizabeth knew that he was just trying to rattle her. "No, you wouldn't," she argued, narrowing her eyes.

"No?" Barbossa repeated, stepping even closer to her. "Would yeh like me to prove it? I'll put yeh to work out there right now! Make yeh work all through the night and all day tomorrow, too!"

Elizabeth dropped her arms in exasperation. "I just…I've sat in a small, dark room for five days now with nothing to do and no one around," she lamented, voice quieter. "I thought…since I was stuck in my cabin…maybe you'd come visit me. You haven't been by in two days." She closed her eyes briefly before meeting his. "I don't really talk to anyone else, at least, not about the things that we talk about."

Barbossa sighed heavily again. He could not bring himself to continue to be mean to her. It almost sounded as if Elizabeth had missed him. Surely it was the drink. Or the heat. She wasn't thinking clearly. Or maybe she was. He'd never known her to have anything but a level, logical head about her, although others would have argued that point, so maybe she had been hoping to see him. A little part of him hoped so. "Yeh put yer father through hell, didn't yeh?" he asked with the slightest smile of capitulation softening his facial expression. He really didn't want to fight with her.

Elizabeth smiled, too, and answered sheepishly, "Yeah, a little I guess."

"And yeh always got yer way." It wasn't a question.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Most of the time – maybe."

"If anyone else had come stormin' into my cabin like that, king or not, I'd have given them twenty lashes for disrespect."

Elizabeth swallowed, knowing that he spoke the truth. "I meant no disrespect." And she hadn't. She just wanted to talk to him.

"Aye, I know yeh didn't," Barbossa said with a nod. "I guess yeh'd like some rum for all yer trouble."

Elizabeth grinned then, relieved that he was not going to send her away. "It would be nice," she replied, beginning to hop her way across the room to the table, already feeling better.

"Stop that hoppin'," Barbossa growled. There was no need for her to hop like a rabbit all the way to the table, so with one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, he lifted Elizabeth up with ease and carried her over, gently setting her down by the chair so she could seat herself. He refused to look at her, and he refused to think about how good it felt to hold her.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said quietly, having never been held like that in her adult life, not even by Will. And Barbossa was strong; so much more than she thought he was. It was the first time she was actually glad that her ankle was sprained, and her face flushed at her thoughts.

A bottle of rum was handed to her as Barbossa sat on the same side of the table with his own bottle. "Nothin' fancy tonight," he remarked with a grin before uncorking his bottle and drinking from it.

Elizabeth did the same and then asked, "Am I interrupting?"

Barbossa laughed heartily and shook his head. "Bit late for that question, ain't it?"

Elizabeth's cheeks felt hot again as she took another drink. She seemed to do a lot of blushing lately.

"I be chartin' our course since the crewman who was doin' it be temporarily out of commission," Barbossa continued. "A little rum and some company won't hurt, though."

"How much further to Madagascar?"

"Eh…perhaps another week," Barbossa answered, drinking more rum.

Elizabeth nodded. "You know, I can almost put my weight on my ankle now, so maybe in another day or so, I can return to my duties."

"Did Gibbs look at it?" Barbossa had told him to the day before.

"No, not since you wrapped it."

Barbossa rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Useless, good for nothin'….hand me yer foot. Need to check that the bruise is goin' away and that there be no swellin'." And that was exactly what he hadn't wanted to do – damn Gibbs.

Elizabeth hesitated before lifting her ankle up to Barbossa's awaiting hands, remembering how it had felt the last time. Her heart rate increased as he settled her foot on his thigh just above his knee and began to unwind the bandage slowly. He placed the material in his lap and examined her ankle, balancing it in his hand and turning her foot from side to side. Her breath caught in her throat; his touch was just as powerful as it had been before, much to her dismay. Truth be known, she was starved for physical attention. She'd thought that her love for Will would be enough to tide her over, but she was quickly discovering that it wasn't. He'd shown her physical love and had then promptly left her – not of his own choice, of course, that was solely her fault – but she still craved human touch. She wondered how she could ignore her feelings and desires when they were so strong and how she could to do it for seven more years. That was an awfully long time.

"Looks like I be gettin' a crew member back soon," Barbossa commented, interrupting her thoughts. "Bruise is nearly gone, and there not be any swellin'."

When Barbossa reached for the material to rewrap her ankle again, Elizabeth quickly asked, "Could you…keep doing what you were doing…just for a minute?" She couldn't believe she'd actually said it, but she couldn't take it back. It was out before she could change her mind. His touch just felt so damn good; she had to have a little more.

Barbossa's eyes questioned hers only briefly before looking down at her foot still resting on his leg. He began sliding his hand lightly along the top of her foot, wishing that he could touch her entire body. He looked up and found she was watching him intently, and he held her gaze for a moment. It was quite a bold request from a married woman, but he wasn't all that surprised. Elizabeth was a vibrant young lady without her husband to take care of her needs. He looked back down at her foot and continued his caresses. He'd certainly not deny her, not when he wanted it, too.

Barbossa's touch sent chills through her and awoke longings that only her husband had done previously. Never did she think that Barbossa would be capable of making her feel that way and certainly not from simply rubbing her foot. Maybe she was going mad. If she was, then gods be damned, because she was thoroughly enjoying it. She closed her eyes to enjoy the moment, certain that there would not be another like it. Three years had been a long time.

"Does this bring yeh pleasure?" Barbossa asked, his usually gruff voice a gravelly caress. It was certainly bringing him pleasure; almost too much.

Elizabeth nodded, but she didn't open her eyes. "It does," she answered quietly. She felt as if she were confessing a sin to the devil himself. She told herself that it was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong – it felt wonderful.

Elizabeth's milky white skin under his hands was intoxicating, and Barbossa was thankful that he was sitting down to hide the physical effect of said intoxication. While Elizabeth was young, she was what every lady should be, at least in his opinion, and he told himself that he should not have treated her rudely like he had earlier. His attraction was not her fault therefore he couldn't punish her by ignoring her.

Barbossa cleared his throat. "I…apologize…for my avoidance the past couple days," he offered to her. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd apologized to anyone. Elizabeth was not just anyone, though, and he wouldn't pretend that she was.

At that statement, Elizabeth's eyes opened and met with his. "Thank you, Captain," she replied with a smile. Secretly, it made her heart leap that he'd apologized, for she knew it to be a rare occurrence. "And I apologize for storming in like I did. I shouldn't have done that."

Barbossa chuckled softly. "Somethin' tells me it won't be the last time," he commented, gently kneading the ball of her foot. When she moaned, he stopped and looked up at her. "Did that hurt?"

Elizabeth's face was scarlet; she hadn't intended to moan audibly. "I'm sorry – no…it…I –" she stammered in embarrassment and looked down into her lap. Perhaps she shouldn't have asked him to continue rubbing her foot; it was starting to feel rather intimate.

"So, it felt good then," Barbossa concluded, continuing to massage her foot. He was happy to hear that – he wished to provide even more pleasure for her if only she'd allow it. He knew he could make her feel things that the whelp hadn't even come close to.

Elizabeth nodded, but she didn't look up. Maybe she should get up & return to her room. Maybe –

"Are yeh ashamed to allow yerself pleasure?" Barbossa asked boldly. She'd proven tonight that not only had she missed his company but that she wanted his touch, as well, so he was sure that meant something. Maybe it was time to push their boundaries.

Elizabeth hesitantly lifted her guilt ridden eyes. "Well, I…I am married, but you're not my husband…so shouldn't I be?" She was more confused than ever. She often thought that she should have just married Norrington and lived happily ever after as a commodore's wife.

Barbossa studied the porcelain color of her flesh and soft lines of her foot. "Pleasure is a rare gift, Elizabeth," he answered. "I suffered for many years without it, and if Turner thinks that a nubile and voracious woman like you will be content to find pleasure once every ten years, he's a fool. Humans have needs that will be met one way or another. To deny them is to deny yer very existence." His steely eyes lifted to hers. "And I don't think that yeh be the type lass to deny yer very existence."

"I…well…I'm not sure."

Barbossa grinned. "Yes yeh are; yeh just can't admit it to yerself yet."

"And I suppose you'll be there when I can?" she quipped. She wondered if they were discussing what she thought they were discussing. She felt like she'd just walked the plank and was staring down at the water, contemplating jumping and what the consequences would be if she did.

"Elizabeth, I be a scallywag. With little more than a nod, you'd be naked and underneath me on my bed. I've no reason to pretend otherwise."

Elizabeth swallowed thickly, not prepared for his forthrightness, though she should have expected it. "So you…you'd just take any female that was willing then?" She wasn't sure why she asked that except that she wanted to keep talking to cover up her nervousness. She was still trying to process his comment. Naked and underneath me on my bed – the image in her mind was quite vivid. She did not need vivid.

"Yeh know, there was a time when I wasn't none too picky," Barbossa replied honestly. "But ever since comin' back, I've not been quite so eager."

"So there hasn't been as many?"

Barbossa blinked. "As many what?"

"Women." Elizabeth knew that it was an intensely personal topic, but she was curious about the answer. And he brought it up, anyway, she told herself.

Barbossa looked away. He hadn't expected her to ask him that, though he should have known better, nosey wench that she was. He mumbled a response, but she didn't hear him.

"Pardon?"

"None!" Barbossa snapped in annoyance, more at himself than at her. "There's been none."

Elizabeth's eyes enlarged. "But why? You just said – "

"I know what I said," Barbossa barked, suddenly feeling like a caged animal. He carefully removed her foot from his lap so he could stand and then took a couple steps away from the table. He wasn't sure why he told her that there hadn't been anyone. It was really none of her business whom he bedded or didn't bed. He supposed the line of propriety between them had been crossed long ago, though. And perhaps there was a tiny part of him that had wanted her to know.

"I don't understand," Elizabeth said quietly as she watched him, already missing the warmth of his touch. "I thought – when you made port – that…"

Purposely facing away from her, Barbossa reluctantly decided to be honest with her; he didn't have much of a choice, really. "I'd gone so long without the proper sense of touch that I wanted that first experience to be somewhat…significant." Barbossa turned around and waved his hand in frustration. "Go ahead. Laugh. I know how pathetic it sounds."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, and her heart went out to the captain. Before her was a man who had experienced life and death in the most horrible ways. He'd been alive, but without the senses to enjoy living; no touch, no taste, no nothing. It had been an empty existence, but existing still, tortuously so. Then he'd died for real, and no one knew how, but he'd returned to a life that he hadn't known in a long time. He could taste and touch and smell again, but better yet, he'd gotten a second chance. His experiences had obviously made him think twice about his decisions, and that's what made him a great captain. "Are you saying that you're sort of waiting for the right one?" she asked, batting her eyes at him good-naturedly. She'd never thought more of him than she did right then.

Barbossa smirked, relieved that she wasn't doubled over in laughter. He knew how such a statement sounded coming from him. "Nay, but I was hopin' for somethin' other than a trick turned by a dock walker. I be gettin' mighty tired of waitin', though. I didn't really think that it would take this long." He hadn't tried all that hard, to be honest. He figured that it would just happen eventually, but he was getting mighty close to changing his mind.

The subject made Elizabeth remember her dream which led her to thinking about when she was at Isla de Muerta with the captain originally. A question had plagued her for years, and she thought then was as good a time as any to ask it. "Why did you only cut my hand in that cave?" She looked at her palm to see the scar that he'd left. "I thought for sure that you were going to – " She couldn't finish her statement; she knew he'd understand.

Barbossa nodded as the memory came flooding back from what seemed like another lifetime. He supposed it had been in a way. "Won't necessary to," he answered with a shrug. "And it would've been bloody foolish of me. I was lookin' forward to the curse bein' lifted." He cocked one eyebrow and decided to test her resolve. "I had other plans for yeh, as it were."

"Like what?" Elizabeth asked innocently.

Barbossa glanced at the bed, then back at her and lifted both eyebrows.

When Elizabeth followed his gaze to his bed, her eyes grew wide in surprise.

"You most certainly would not have – "

"Aye," Barbossa confirmed with a grin. "Right there in the cave on all of the cursed gold and silver."

Elizabeth remembered that that's exactly how her dream had been, acutely aware that her heart rate had sped up once more. He was a pirate, yes, but she found it hard to believe that he would have forced himself upon her. "What if I'd said no?"

"I would have persuaded yeh." And then Barbossa winked at her.

"You're despicable," Elizabeth insulted affectionately, shaking her head. She assumed that he was teasing her, but a small part of her wondered what he really would have done – and what she would have let him do.

Barbossa chuckled. "Pirate," he replied simply. "Now, off to bed." Their chat needed to end before one of them embarrassed themselves – probably him.

Elizabeth stood with no argument and began to hop towards the door, but she quickly found herself scooped up in the captain's arms again. And she minded not.

"Carrying me to bed, are you, Captain?" Elizabeth teased, her fingers laced around his neck as they exited his cabin.

Crossing the threshold of her cabin and heading for her bed, Barbossa replied, "Usually, I join the lass when I carry her to bed, but I suppose that I can make an exception this one time." He gently placed Elizabeth on her feather mattress, but he did not stand. His hands remained firmly planted on the bed behind her back and under her knees as he purposely invaded her personal space. "However, next time I carry yeh to bed, I be joinin' yeh."

Elizabeth blushed furiously as he held her gaze, and she knew by his tone of voice that he wasn't kidding. The playful glint that had previously twinkled in his eyes had also disappeared. "I'll keep that in mind, Captain," she responded, her voice unsure and quiet. While she'd only been with one man, she knew desire when she saw it, and her throat was suddenly bone dry. He was looking at her as if she were a buffet of food spread upon a dinner table, and she was both scared and intrigued at the thought of sharing a bed with him.

"See that yeh do," Barbossa stated before standing and quickly returning to his cabin. He had a pressing matter that needed his immediate attention, namely his hand.

My goal was to get one more chapter posted before the holidays, and here it is! Yay! Hope you like. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated!

Hope everyone has a great holiday season. This year has been hard for me, so I'll admit that I'm not feeling very festive. I'm looking forward to 2014, though; lots of good stuff going on!

Special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: booda77, Preciossa, lostsocks54, Bloodsired, BrunetteAuthorette99. SeaChange79 and poty90. You all rock.