The next morning, Elizabeth woke before Jack did. Sunlight streamed in through the windows of the Pearl's captain's cabin—her cabin too, she supposed, and she rolled over to look at her new husband as he slept on his stomach, head pillowed on one bent elbow. The sheet had crept down around his thighs, and without all his hair, the line of his neck followed the smooth curve of his back all the way around his buttocks. She reached out to stroke his scarred shoulders, but then pulled back and grinned at a sudden idea. The night before, they had both enjoyed all that reminiscing about their first meeting, and had in fact acted out how (in retrospect) they felt it should have gone. But as long as they were feeling nostalgic, she knew how she could wake him.

A peculiar scent drifted across Jack's nostrils, and they twitched. Even asleep, he knew that scent. "No!" he cried, coming awake instantly. "Not good!" He leaped to his feet, still naked, and looked wildly around the cabin.

"Good morning, Jack," Elizabeth said, eyes dancing. "I have good news and bad news."

Nose twitching, he still looked around for the source of the burning smell he still had nightmares about. "Eh? Wot?"

"Well, the bad news is that we have to go into Port Royale and face the governor in a couple of hours," she said.

Jack scowled. "Elizabeth Swann, if you've burned all the rum again—"

"—Which brings me to the good news," she said smoothly. She held up a full bottle and sloshed it. "The rum is not gone. In fact, we have more of it than before, because I had Marty and the lads steal a couple of extra kegs of it from that Dutch ship we took yesterday. I only burned a spoonful of it, to wake you up."

"You think I ever want to wake up to that smell again as long as I live?" he groused, glaring at her. "You," he said, advancing on her from across the room, "Are a horrid, heartless, harridan harpy. And you're mean, to boot! Why would you do something like that to someone you claim to love?"

Elizabeth tried not to giggle. "I'm so sorry, Jack. So very, very sorry. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you..." she came closer and let her hands drift down from his shoulders to parts south. "Do you think you could ever possibly forgive me?" she asked, with a caress to accompany every other word.

Jack groaned, closing his eyes. He reached out and clasped her shoulders. "There may be a way," he said, his voice going a little hoarse. He spun them around so her knees hit the bed and buckled, and he followed her down onto the mattress. He bent his head and tasted the skin of her neck. "You're a clever lass, Liz. Let's see if you can figure it out."

Luckily for them both, Elizabeth did figure it out, and her new husband forgave her quite readily. At least, she assumed he did, as by the time they were finally dressing to see the governor two hours later he seemed to have completely forgotten the latest rum-burning incident.

Although a certain gleam in his eye when he thought she wasn't looking told her that he never, ever would.

Note: I didn't mean to give myself a shout-out in this chapter; it just happened. It was something Jack would have said. Honest!