As so often lately, Rachel stood at the railing and watched as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon. She definitely had too much going on today for one day. On top of that, she had a guilty conscience about Jack, and that annoyed her.

The pirate had killed someone in front of her. She had never doubted that he was capable of killing. But to see it directly in front of her … that was another story.

No good person could kill, and therefore he did not deserve her conscience at all. This confirmed her comfortable assumption that all pirates were cruel murderers. And yet … had it not been for him, where would that have taken her? Straight into the clutches of other – unknown – pirates.

The crew of the Black Pearl was at least known to her. Rachel tried to make sense of her reaction. Jack Sparrow was practically the personification of everything that spoke against her moral values and yet, precisely with that, he claimed more and more space in her thoughts.

Jack Sparrow sat in his cabin with Gibbs and the first mate gave him a telling-off.

"That was just …"

"Rash and careless," Jack finished the sentence, bored.

Jack had Gibbs' full respect, but he sometimes felt he had to be a kind of father figure to Jack. And today's action only confirmed him in this once again.

Jack found this behaviour of Gibbs quite naff. He knew it was only well-intentioned, but after all, he did not lack sense. He was not a boy and could well bear the consequences for his own actions.

Gibbs started pacing again and continued his sermon.

"You could have been killed in the process!"

But his protégé – as he secretly called Jack – had long since stopped listening to him.

Jack sighed self-pityingly and stared fascinated at the rum bottle in front of him as if he had never seen anything more interesting. For the last half hour, the tactic of nodding the head and smiling had worked wonderfully. But from the moment Gibbs started repeating himself and Jack could have recited everything by heart, his brain shut down completely, and he stupidly kept nodding at the wrong parts of Gibbs' speech.

So the captain finally gave up pretending to be interested or even paying attention. Jack took the rum and almost drank it away in deep draughts. And only out of sheer desperation.

Gibbs watched him angrily and then took the bottle from him.

"What?" asked Jack, slightly inebriated.

His first mate shrugged his shoulders, grinned apologetically and drank the bottle dry.

"Gibbs … excuse me, but, I'm going to go … walk … whatever," Jack informed him, taking the precaution of grabbing more rum and staggering leisurely out of the cabin.

He stumbled and fell, the most important thing being the integrity of the bottle to Jack. He quickly straightened up again, knocked the non-existent dust off his clothes, and glanced around. Merely to make sure that no one had noticed this incident.

He only saw Rachel, who was still standing at the railing. She had heard the loud thumping, but it was nothing unusual to find not-so-sober people at this time of the day. Jack looked at her in surprise for a moment before sauntering to her.

"Dear, what are you doing here alone? Am I disturbing you?"

Only now did she turn to the person who had made the noise. Mutely, Rachel shook her head and stared at the sea again.

In the west of the clear evening sky, one could still see the faint, reddish light of the setting sun, which was fading. The sea sparkled mysteriously beneath.

Jack joined her without being asked and wanted to give her the rum.

"Maybe it'll help"

"No, thanks."

"We'd also have water on board if need be … just in case you're unwell again," he teased her.

Rachel was aware that it was meant to be an innuendo. Nevertheless, she only looked at him expressionlessly.

Jack began to sway.

"And you'd better sit down, at least then it was your decision and not gravity's," she returned with a smile.

Jack had to think about what that meant for a moment, then he winked at her.

Why did such a depraved man have such a charming grin and, to make matters worse, knew too well how it worked? – Rachel asked herself.

"Thought someone had to introduce you to humour first," he said, eyeing her with appreciation.

In her opinion, this did not deserve a reaction.

"How is your arm?" she asked coolly instead, although she felt sorry for him.

"Ah, don't mention it," he waved it off lightly.

For a moment she looked at him in disbelief before lowering her gaze again.

"I suppose I should thank you for that."

He just accepted it. Didn't even try to understand her change of heart.

"And how will you show your gratitude?" Jack inquired with a grin and took a step towards her. "I wouldn't be at all averse …," he continued, his grin getting filthier by the minute.

Even then, it had lost none of its tantalising charisma.

When Rachel seemed to fully grasp this statement, she looked at him indignantly and avoided his approach. He disregarded this signal and unabashedly leaned himself at her. Rachel pinched his injured arm without warning. The pirate winced heavily and screwed up his face.

"If this is your thanks, you should never thank me again. I'm shocked, dear!"

He hastily backed a few steps away from her.

"You killed a man!"

It was over too quickly for Rachel to be sure. But for a moment she thought she saw a dark glimmer of regret flit through his eyes.

Jack drank noisily from the bottle.

"Astute observation skills. Look at it this way: I consecrated my black soul even more deeply to hell so that he would not have to continue to bear the sin of killing. Or are you deliberately ignoring the fact, it was he who wanted to kill me first?"

"No, but …"

The charming smile she had become used to too quickly was absent this time, and Jack grinned wickedly at her instead.

"Do you then prefer to ignore what you would have faced? Not that he actually killed you … no, I think they wanted you alive. But the treatment, dear, it wouldn't have been pleasant."

He let the words sink in before he drew his eyebrows together, eyed her up and down and asked in confusion, "You're not a virgin, are you?"

It was exhausting to cope with his mood swings while there was also a mental war going on inside her. Rachel did not trust the pirate, still had a residual fear of him. But he had saved her – however much the manner displeased her. Rachel straightened herself up.

"In any case, I wanted to say that I thought you were brave," she continued calmly, thus bypassing his indecent question with selected objectivity.

His confusion, and also his desire to frighten her, was lost, and he leaned against the railing beside her without any discernible body tension.

"That's a matter of perspective," Jack said with a shrug. "Actually, courage can only exist where there is fear, aye? Which in turn just means that you make a judgement, which decides that something else is more important than fear itself," he blithely chattered away.

Rachel squinted at him from the side.

"I am surprised to hear such profundity – albeit utter confuse – speaking from you."

He snorted without looking at her. "May happen. I could do anything to you with words …"

He fell silent and looked at her – that grin on his face again, which Rachel could do nothing about and which she couldn't stand because it brought out in her the feeling of an uneasy warmth in her body.

"Are you saying you're impressed with me because you didn't think I could do so?" asked Jack.

"Honest answer?"

"On the counter-question, a dishonest, please."

"Then yes. I wouldn't have put it past you," Rachel answered him with a smile.

She had missed the moment when the fear of him had said goodbye, at least for tonight.

Jack returned her smile and looked at her extensively. After all, there was a version of her other than pure reluctance – or rejection. Jack was pleasantly surprised. But the thoughts were occupied with something completely different.

"Let's try something different, dear. Do you have any idea what the pirates wanted from you?"

"No. I was hoping you could tell me that … Captain," she added with amusement as Jack clung convulsively to the railing to keep his balance.

And just for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself not to condemn his abominable actions and to see them for what they were – self-preservation instinct and selflessness at the same time. He could have left her alone on the island – not had to worry about it.

At that moment she took a liking to this grotesque pirate, even if she would never admit it to herself because it destroyed too many of her convictions …