Barbossa and Elizabeth had reached the final crossroad of their tryst; only a tub of steaming water and two robes stood between them. The room was relatively quiet except for random activity outside the small window, and there were a couple sconces with beeswax candles in them providing soft light. They gazed at each other for a few moments after the innkeeper poured in the last bucket of warm water. A thousand questions danced in their eyes, and neither could believe they were actually standing there together.

Barbossa was nervous, but he would never admit it. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd been with a woman and experienced it properly – that curse had lasted a long, long time. He'd fantasized about being with Elizabeth a hundred times over the past three years, but never did he think that it would actually happen. With a deep breath, he began to undress. He didn't want to waste any time with her.

Elizabeth watched Barbossa out of the corner of her eyes as she began to remove her clothing. There was something quite surreal about the moment – she almost felt like she was dreaming – but she had no second thoughts. She slipped her coat and boots off and then placed her hat on the pile. Casting a quick glance at him again, she saw that he'd already taken off his hat, coat, boots and holsters. She placed her sword down next and worked on her breeches, wiggling out of them before noticing that he was staring at her.

Barbossa still wore his bandana and breeches, but nothing else. Elizabeth's curious gaze travelled across his body. She immediately noticed the numerous scars on his chest, especially the gun shot wound from Jack, but she tried to put that memory out of her head. He seemed smaller, somehow, but she knew that was only because his hat and layers of clothing were gone. Barbossa, the captain, had been replaced by Barbossa, the man. When she noticed that he was staring at her the same way that she was staring at him, she smiled. She felt no guilt – no regret – just desire. It was a relief because she'd been worried about how she'd feel if she ever actually made a decision to be with him.

Barbossa gazed upon Elizabeth, allowing himself the indulgence of etching the moment into his mind; the night that she gave herself to him. Her hair hung loose, and her bare legs extended out from the only article of clothing that she hadn't removed yet; her white shirt. She was breathtaking, and he had the brief wish that he'd been the first man to be with her, but he knew that that was his ego talking. He reminded himself that the water in the tub was cooling, so he reached to untie his breeches – his last piece of clothing – and then slid them down and off before carefully stepping into the tub.

Elizabeth swallowed. Like any other woman's would be, her eyes were immediately drawn to his manhood. She'd assumed that all men were different, of course, but he was bigger than Will, and Will had hurt as it was. She took another deep breath and told herself that she would be fine. She'd gotten that far, after all. Just stop thinking and get in, she told herself. She'd done quite enough thinking already.

Barbossa watched from where he sat reclined in the tub as Elizabeth pulled her white shirt over her head and let it drop to the floor. Her breasts were small, but her nipples looked like hard pebbles, and his mouth watered at the thought of rolling his tongue around them; he could practically taste her already. Her body was slender with only the slightest curve of hip, but the nest of curls between her thighs made his length twitch under the water. Her eyes met his unabashedly as she took a couple steps towards him. She'd never been more beautiful. Gone was the snobby, porcelain doll in frilly clothes he'd first met years ago. Before him stood a woman who had been to hell and back – literally and figuratively – and had the scars to prove it and yet she was more enticing than she'd ever been. They'd been adversaries, they'd been allies, they'd laughed and schemed and argued – they'd come a long way in such a short time – and tonight, it all came full circle. Tonight, they would be lovers.

"Room for me in there?" she quipped to hide her nervousness.

Barbossa extended his hand, his eyes roaming over her golden skin as he helped her in. Elizabeth sat down in front of him and was immediately wrapped in his arms as she rested back against him, extending her legs out. The scented oils that the innkeeper had poured in mixed with the steam from the heated water, and it calmed her as she inhaled deeply. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"This is nice," Elizabeth commented, and she meant it. It felt good – comfortable even – to be with him like this. Finally.

"Couldn't agree more," was his reply. Barbossa cleared his throat before continuing. He needed to address the dock walker from earlier – he felt he owed her that given their current situation. "I – uh – yeh know that nothin' happened with that wench in the tavern."

Elizabeth smiled as she ran her fingertips along his forearm that was draped across her waist under water. "You don't answer to me," she told him. "You're free to do what you want with who you want." She laughed quietly. "Though I wouldn't have talked to you for days. She was awful. You did that on purpose, didn't you – to get me jealous?"

Barbossa chuckled softly behind her, imagining the fury that had blazed in her eyes when he'd confronted her on the dock. "Yeh be beautiful when yer jealous," he said, unfolding his arms and sliding his hands down her wet thighs as far as his hands could reach. Her skin was ridiculously soft, and he was afraid his rough hands might hurt her, but he had to touch her – had to run his hands along her body, the body that had tortured him in dreams.

"Thank you." Elizabeth closed her eyes again as his hands continued sliding up and down her legs. His touch was confident, unlike Will's. Even though she couldn't help but compare, she tried to push any thought of her husband from her mind. Barbossa was worldly, and he'd known many women; of course he would have more confidence. When he trailed his fingertips up the sensitive insides of her thighs, close to her most private area, she moaned and squeezed her legs together instinctively, sloshing the water a bit when she did.

"Yeh like that?" Barbossa's raspy voice was hot against her ear. "Lift yer knees up and put yer feet on the tub bottom."

Elizabeth did as he requested, and she was rewarded with his hands sweeping up and down her inner thighs again. When his thumbs barely brushed against her sex, it made her moan and writhe against him as she squeezed the sides of the tub where her arms rested.

"Oh God," Elizabeth breathed, biting her lip. "Do more of that." It had been too long, and touching herself just wasn't the same as being touched.

Barbossa smirked. "Yes, my king." His fingers eagerly floated along her thighs until they reached the velvety soft tissue between them. He spread her labia with two fingers of one hand while gently flicking the fleshy nub back and forth with one finger of the other. He could have drawn it out much longer, but he knew their time in the washroom was limited. Elizabeth immediately stiffened as she dropped her head back to his shoulder.

"Yes. Oh – that's – " Moans commandeered her words. She thought she might have been muttering incoherently, but she wasn't really sure. Her only reality was the delicious sensations building between her legs at the moment, courtesy of Barbossa's skilled fingers. Her release was going to happen very quickly, and she squirmed uncontrollably in his embrace.

Barbossa alternated between slow flicks and fast ones until Elizabeth's movements stilled and she began to murmur 'yes' over and over. Spreading her with his fingers just a bit more, he continued his attentions until she cried out and toppled over the edge. He nearly came just from listening to her moans and whimpers – bringing a woman to completion with his hands was one of his favorite things to do and something that he'd been fairly adept at. He hadn't lost his touch, apparently. He grinned.

Elizabeth jerked and spasmed in Barbossa's arms, and she was quite sure that she saw stars explode behind her eyelids. The internal tremors had been hard and intense, but as they gradually slowed, her muscles began to relax. She was breathing heavy when his fingers left her, but when she felt his erection press against her lower back, she wanted him inside of her immediately. She wanted him right then.

Feeling quite bold, she carefully turned around and faced him, resting on her knees on either side of his thighs in the water.

"You're despicable," Elizabeth said with a grin. "That felt wonderful. Your turn." She placed her hands on the side of the tub with the intent of sliding down over him.

"Not yet," Barbossa said, gripping her hips to stop her. "We should go upstairs first."

"Why? Just for a moment. We'll be careful, we won't spill –"

"It not be the water," Barbossa remarked, reluctantly meeting her doe-like, inquisitive gaze, knowing the time had come to tell her. "It be me."

Elizabeth frowned, wondering if he had changed his mind about being with her. "I don't understand. I thought you wanted - "

"I do, but we need to return to the room so that I can dry off and put on a condom first."

"But I just want to make you feel good for a couple minutes like you did for me. Why do you have to –"

"Because I do, all right?" he snapped, looking away from her.

Elizabeth was confused. "Have I done something wrong?" she asked, sitting down in the water, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed.

Barbossa sighed. If they were going to be together – even just the one time – she deserved to know; he would not put her in danger. "Remember those pills that yeh asked about a couple times?" Elizabeth nodded. "They be mercury. I have the French disease, and they treat it."

Elizabeth thought for a moment. She remembered hearing of it from eavesdropping on the maids. "The French disease? Is that the same as the Great Pox?"

Barbossa slowly nodded, hoping to whatever heaven that might exist that it wouldn't change her mind – he'd never told anyone. Dock walkers didn't care about such things, but Elizabeth was different – he wouldn't hide it from her. He knew of her secrets; it was only fair she knew his. He'd already shared more with her than anyone on his crew, anyway.

Elizabeth blinked a few times, trying to recall the little she'd heard about the disease. "It's from intercourse, isn't it? With someone who was already infected?"

Barbossa nodded again, not wanting to say more than was necessary.

"Do you know who –"

He shook his head. "There be no way of knowin' that. It was before the curse and I – well, let's just say that I'd enjoyed a few women at a few ports." He remembered being in rare form there for a year or so; he wasn't surprised to get it.

"Will I get it if we –"

"Nay, not if I keep meself covered with a condom."

Elizabeth didn't understand the specifics of the disease, but as long as she couldn't get it, then it wouldn't stop her from being with him. "Okay, let's finish and go upstairs then."

Barbossa was more than relieved.

After washing their hair, Barbossa and Elizabeth donned the robes, gathered their clothes and returned to their room. Barbossa locked the door and smirked at Elizabeth who stood by the bed. She was his, at least for one night. Tomorrow be damned. He fetched a condom from his coat pocket, opened his robe and hastily slid the thin membrane of material over himself while Elizabeth watched curiously.

Barbossa looked different to Elizabeth. She supposed being naked with only a robe on contributed to that, but she was thankful for it, as well. She didn't particularly need him looking like 'the captain'; he just needed to look like Hector. She smiled as he walked up to her.

Part of him wanted to take his time with Elizabeth and savor every touch, kiss and moan that was uniquely her, while another part of him wanted to ravish her immediately. Barbossa decided on something in the middle as he began to slowly untie her robe.

"Don't think yeh be needin' this anymore," he said, his eyes locked on hers as he slipped the soft material up and over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and pool around her bare feet.

"Then I don't suppose you need yours, either," Elizabeth replied playfully, removing his and letting it fall to the floor like hers.

Barbossa watched as Elizabeth turned the bed down and then climbed in. He wasted no time in joining her and gathering her in his arms. The feel of her soft skin against his and the taste of her kiss was nearly his undoing. In a way, he felt like he was a young, virginal boy again, getting so worked up and excited like he was, but he supposed after being deprived of human touch for so many years, he more than deserved to feel a little giddy.

Elizabeth's world beyond the apartment door had ceased to exist. Being with Barbossa felt so much like her dreams – better even. She happily succumbed to him physically, and in a way, emotionally. She allowed him free reign – she let him control everything – and part of the reason why was because she knew that that was his first time in a long time since he could feel; she hadn't forgotten that. She was honored to be with him and honored to be that first for him; she knew what the waiting was like.

When Barbossa's mouth descended to her neck to nip and suck around her collarbone, Elizabeth whispered, "Is it everything you remember?"

He chuckled. "It is, and then some." It had been many, many moons since he'd had a woman in his bed that wasn't there for the coins. He figured Catherine had been the last one, as best he could remember. Dock walkers never lacked enthusiasm, but they did lack sincerity. Barbossa was certain that the moans and whimpers coming from Elizabeth as he kneaded her breasts and gently pinched her nipples were real and not there because of money. And that's what he wanted – he wanted her sincerity – he wanted everything to be as genuine as it could be, given their circumstances. When Elizabeth shifted her legs on the back of his, he felt her hand close around him to guide him in, and while he was anxious about pillaging her prized treasure, he knew it had been a long time for her, as well, and he had to force himself to proceed slowly.

Barbossa covered her mouth with his once more in a slow but deliberate kiss that drove away any rational thought as he began to push inside her. When she stiffened in discomfort, he dropped his mouth to her neck again, kissing and biting the sensitive flesh until he heard her moan. Trying again, it was only moments before Elizabeth was pushing his hips away.

"It hurts," she breathed, trying not to get upset. She didn't remember it feeling quite like that her first time, and she was afraid that they wouldn't be able to do anything. What a disappointment that would be if she couldn't. The thought was more than disheartening.

"A little pain be normal," Barbossa said quietly, reassuring her. "Yeh haven't done this in a while. It'll get better, I promise."

In a move that Elizabeth wasn't expecting, Barbossa pulled a handful of her hair and bit down harder on her neck, setting every nerve ending of her body on fire. When she cried out in both shock and pleasure, he pushed again, and that time, he was able to slide all the way in. She instinctively clawed at his back at the sudden entrance, but as he began to move just a little, she realized that it did feel better, and she was relieved.

Barbossa thought of every crewman on the ship to keep from releasing himself too soon. Their union felt so good – too good – and he growled as he thrust faster. She fit tight around him, so much tighter than he could ever remember a woman being, and he was torn between drawing it out as long as he could to enjoy it or hurrying and enjoying the release. He'd taken matters into his own hands many times since returning to the land of the living, but none of those times seem to make a difference. He was overwhelmed with his longing for her – the last time that he'd felt such an undertow was with Catherine.

"Elizabeth, yeh be feelin' mighty good. I'm tryin' to hold out, but – "

"Don't try. Just do what feels good. We have all night."

Barbossa decided to do what she'd said, and he gave into his desire that had been forced to lie dormant for so many years. It had finally awakened, and it was starving. He was more than happy to feed it. He gripped her tighter and allowed his lust full freedoms, the symphony of their groans and the squeaky bed filling the room. Faster and faster he thrust, submerging himself in her – her scent, her taste, her touch – before the coil that had been wound up tighter and tighter within his loins finally snapped, releasing himself with a garbled and desperate growl.

Elizabeth was certain she'd feel remnants of their activity tomorrow, but she cared not. She was happy – happier than she'd been in months – and she smiled as she listened to Barbossa's heavy gasps and moans as they quieted. She loved hearing him. He sounded so manly; so primal. She wanted to hear him again. He lifted his head from where it had been buried in the crook of her neck, and when their eyes met, they both smiled. It was a moment that she would never forget. His usual scowl – that he had to display to the crew – was replaced by a genuine, relaxed smile; it was even in his eyes. She felt a tug at her heart that she wasn't expecting, but she pushed it away; then was not the time for such things.

Barbossa's heart was pounding as he tried to catch his breath. He knew his age took a toll, but he felt so wonderful, he could have died right then, and it would have been all right. Died again, anyway. Gazing into the chestnut colored orbs that were twinkling in physical bliss, he thought that she must be feeling pretty good, too. He'd make it last longer next time; he knew he could do things that the whelp couldn't. Being young didn't always have the advantage.

Elizabeth winced when Barbossa slipped from her. She watched in a sort of haze as he stood up, disposed of the condom and then lay beside her again. Given their relationship, she rolled over towards him, but she didn't touch him. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to, actually.

Elizabeth reached for the sheet and blanket, as her skin was still damp with sweat and felt chilly in the night air. "Are there other positions besides that one?" she asked curiously.

Barbossa chuckled as he pulled the covers up to his waist. "Many."

Elizabeth was immediately interested. "Will you show me?"

With a glance over at her, Barbossa answered, "If yeh want." There were many things that he could show her. He hoped there would be opportunity for such when they returned to the ship.

Elizabeth lay still for a couple minutes, just enjoying the moment. She felt alive – she'd forgotten just how much she enjoyed being with someone – and she was completely relaxed. All of the stress of trying to decide to be with him was gone. She was glad that she hadn't gone back to the ship.

"Was it worth the wait?" she asked. He'd waited so long; she hoped he wasn't disappointed with his choice; after all, she had such little experience compared to him.

Barbossa smiled sleepily as he rolled over and draped his arm over her waist. "I'd wait all over again if I had to," he murmured. "Now, turn over and get some sleep because I be wakin' yeh up in a little while."

Elizabeth did what he said and relaxed under his embrace. It was then that she realized it had been some time since she last thought of Will, and as she drifted off to sleep beside of Barbossa, she also realized that she was all right with it.

True to his word, Barbossa had taken her two more times during the night, and both had felt as wonderful as the first. He had the stamina of a younger man, and Elizabeth had been pleasantly surprised. She'd experienced physical sensations with him that she never had with Will, and she loved that Barbossa didn't ask her permission for everything – he just did whatever he wanted. Will had constantly asked about every little touch, and he'd been overly concerned whether she'd been in pain or not. Elizabeth had been appreciative, but it did take away from the moment somewhat. Barbossa did everything perfectly – at least it was to her. His kisses, his touches, the way they fit together – they should have done it weeks ago. He didn't have much to say, but he'd said enough with his actions, and he hadn't been shy about it. It had been all that Elizabeth had hoped it would be.

Barbossa woke soon after dawn the next morning. He rose, used the chamber pot quickly and dressed. He gazed at Elizabeth as she slept – she had definitely been worth the wait. She was beautiful, she was enthusiastic and they'd had a very good time together – the best that he could remember in many years. Their night together was better than he'd anticipated, and he hoped that it would not be the last.

Elizabeth woke a couple minutes later and sat up with a stretch and a yawn, quickly realizing that she was sore all over. She watched as he finished dressing, putting his coat and hat on and fastening his last holster. He looked like 'the captain' again, and though she smiled at him, she was a little sad, too. She wished she could go back to last night and experience it all over again.

"Now what?" she asked, wrapping the sheet around her as she suddenly felt rather self-conscious.

"Now we go back to the ship," Barbossa answered, adjusting his hat.

"I know that, I meant…"

Barbossa studied the young woman in the bed that he'd taken three times the night before. He wished to again, but the rest of his condoms were back on the ship, and he would not take the chance of infecting her. He walked over to the bed, looming tall above her.

"Yer cabin be next to mine," he reminded her with a wink. He reached for her hand and kissed the top of it. "But let's keep the extracurricular activities to ourselves, aye?"

Elizabeth nodded and bit her lip. Not that she'd planned on kissing him in front of the crew, but she wasn't a dirty secret, either. She wasn't sure how she felt about his comment, but she tried not to think on it too much.

Barbossa smiled and tipped his hat. "All right then. I'll send someone to escort yeh to the ship." Then he left.

And then, overcome with an emotion that she couldn't name or explain, Elizabeth buried her face in his pillow and sobbed like she never had before.

Many thanks to Black Heart, one no-name guest, PirateZ203, lostsocks54, Preciossa, BrunetteAuthorette99, Bloodsired, lea-smiles-a-lot and Little Bored Devil for taking the time to leave/send me reviews. I appreciate every single one, and I will always reply (if you have an acct).

I posted a few 'inspirational' pictures on my blog (link in my profile). It's what I imagined Madagascar looking like while our couple was there.

So - what's going to happen once they return to the ship?

For something a little different, I've added a poll question to my profile page. As most of you know, I have a website where I sell handmade goodies. I don't currently have any POTC items, so why don't YOU tell me what you'd like to see? Not sure? Check out my site psychedelic snowflake . com to see what I've already made. It'll be open until I post the next chapter.

Hope to hear from you!