I haven't seen nor talk to Jones since our fight two days ago. Tituba and I have switched duties for a now; or at least until I can manage to get off this ship, and move on with my damn life. I want off this ship as soon as possible, before my feelings are manipulated anymore than they already have been. It's hard to focus without him popping up in my head. Tituba knows not to talk about him around me. It's still a touchy subject. The sooner he is out of my life, the sooner I forget. And that's what I am going to continue telling myself. I will push through and find my way through this maze.
The following night I was awaken to the sound of a fist thudding against our wooden door. Tituba startled looks at me confused. I push myself up out of bed, and answer the door. I peek out, and see a very worried and tired looking Gibbs.
"Gibbs? What the hell is going on?" I ask rubbing my sleepy eyes awake.
"It's the captain, lass." He says sheepishly. I sigh and roll my eyes.
"Tituba and I have switched duties; you'll have to refer to her-" I begin to say turning back to my room, but he cuts me off.
"I know, but something is wrong with him, I-" Gibbs tries to explain.
"There are many things wrong with him, Gibbs." I say.
"Listen to me, please." He begs. "I was just informed by the watchmen, that there were gunshots heard firing from inside his cabin." With worry unwillingly sprouting in the pit of my stomach, I remain silent, and listen. "When they entered to see what was going on, Jones just screamed at them to get out. He's obviously drunk… very drunk."
"I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?" I ask.
"If he's drunk, and waving a gun around then I need you to talk some sense into him. I think you're the only one who actually can."
"And what's preventing him from shooting me?"
"Jones would never harm you, lass. Trust me on that." I consider Gibb's words. "You know, I've noticed these last few days, a change in him. He's been acting strange, almost depressed. Not being his cheery self that I've seen these last few years. And I reckon… it's got something to do with you, and that argument you two had. I think it might have hit a sensitive spot." I stand there and watch Gibbs give me puppy dog eyes. I look at him sternly, but then smile a bit.
"Fine." I sigh. "I'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." I say joining the hallway with Gibbs.
"Thank you, lass." He says with relief. I walk past him, and head to the captain's cabin.
I walk up to Jones' cabin. I give the door a slight knock.
"Damn it! I said leave me alone!" Jones yells. The sound of glass breaking is heard from inside. I open the door ignoring his yells. The place was a wreck; broken glass shards, tables knocked over, bullet holes in the walls. Jones stands in the middle of the room. He was shirtless, with a gun in one hand, and rum bottle in the other. He and I lock eyes, and I watch his tense body calm down. I close the door behind me.
"Jones, what the hell are you doing?" I ask.
"Just relieving some anger." He says. "What are you doing?" he asks taking another swig of rum.
"Your crews worried. Gibbs asked me to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. But by the looks of things I'm too late."
"Listen Burrows. We n-need to talk." He says starting to walk towards me. I roll my eyes. "What I said to Gibbs wasn't true; I just didn't want to seem like a little pansy." I just look at him skeptically. "You've gotta trust me, lass." He grunts.
"You realize you're asking me to trust a pirate right? Not only a pirate, I pirate captain. I'm guessing your captain for being the most ruthless aboard the ship, are you not?" he stares at me annoyed. "So to answer your question, no I don't trust you. I did, but not anymore. " I turn to leave.
"Fine. I'll prove it to you." He says. I turn to see him placing the gun to his temple. I gasp.
"Jones, stop!" I say. "You're just drunk!"
"As the devil." He smirks. "But this is the only way you'll believe me, Burrows."
"I believe you! I do!" I say assuring.
"No you don't!" he yells frustrated. "Ever since I met you I can't focus-"
"Jones…" I try to say, but he ignores me and continues his banter.
"I've never felt this way and it scares me. It scares the living hell out of me-" he laughs itching the back of his head with the gun.
"Jones…" I begin to say irritated that he won't listen.
"I mean I haven't even slept these past few days-"
"Jones!"
"What the fuck am I supposed to do-"
"Killian!" I finally yell. It gets his attention. He looks at me surprised. I had never actually said his name. It felt amazing to finally feel the word leave my lips, though. I believe him. I don't know why but something is telling me. In my gut, I know he's telling me the truth. He's rambling like idiot. It's cute actually. The gun was now at his side. I strut right over to him. I place my hands on his scruffy cheeks, and bring my lips to his. I hear the gun, and rum bottle hit the floor, and feel his hands on my back, pulling me closer. When we finally release, we rest our foreheads against each others. I wrap my arms around his neck. I look into his eyes hooded. I see him smile, and then feel one of my own. "I believe you." I whisper. I pull away from him and walk over to his bed. I jump on bouncing a bit, and look at him. He had a look of relief on his face. I smile and pat the bed next to me. "Come on, sailor. You need sleep." I smile. He smiled back and slowly walked over to the bed and joined me. I snuggled up to his body as he wrapped his arms around me. We both drifted off into darkness, together.
I woke up the next morning in Killians arms; it was perfect. I rubbed my sleepy eyes awake, and looked up towards Killian. He was still sleeping like baby. He was too beautiful. I unwrapped myself from his arms, and it dosed him awake a bit. I crawled on top of him and straddled his hips. I lean forward and kiss his lips lightly. His eyes open up sleepily. My heart jumps when I see a smile spread on his face.
"Good morning." I smile.
"Mornin' love." He says resting his hands on my hips. "I'm thanking the good lord last night was not a dream." I laugh.
"No. No it wasn't. I believe you." We smile at one another. His brow flusters, and he begins to rub his head painfully irritated. "You okay?"
"Feels like Satan's dancing in my head. Probably should learn not to try to drink my sorrows away. Never works."
"I know what will make you feel better." I smile. He smirks and raises an eyebrow at me. I lean down and kiss his lips. He still tastes like rum and I enjoy it. I then move my way to his cheek, then his neck, and then his chest, warmly kissing all over. I feel his body relax under my kisses. I stop, and sit up and look at him. He cocks an eyebrow at me disappointed. "Don't look at me like that. I have work to do and so do you."
"I'd rather do something involving us being naked." He sighs. I laugh.
"Well, if you be a good lad, we will." I whisper. He smirks back.