CHAPTER 16 – Peas in a Pod?

You hum quietly to yourself as you promenade along the streets of Tortuga, heading back towards the Faithful Bride tavern. You and Anamaria had both went to the docks after you had eaten breakfast and made sure everything was as it should aboard the Pearl. While walking over, you’d told a little about the conversation you had with Jack to Anamaria, and accidentally slipped out Jack’s nickname for her. Anamaria had narrowed her eyes, probably thinking about something equally uncomplimentary about him. You tried to defend Jack a bit, telling Ana that ‘Spitfire’ wasn’t really that bad, but somehow you got the feeling it didn’t help much to improve the matter. Oh well, you just hoped Anamaria wouldn’t be too harsh when extracting her revenge on Jack.

You’d taken Lucky with you, and the dog had curiously explored around the ship, eagerly sniffing the new smells. Anamaria had stayed aboard for a while longer, and since Lucky had seemed reluctant to go just yet, you left the pup in Anamaria’s care.

Reaching the tavern, you step over the threshold and make your way in, glancing around for Jack. You spot him sitting over a table towards the back of the building, and start walking towards him. Suddenly, your attention is riveted by a tall woman strolling gracefully towards you, making her way out of the establishment. She’s well over a head taller than you, her wavy black hair coursing freely down her shoulders. As you’re only about seven feet away from her, she fixes her steely gaze on you and you flinch involuntarily. Those eyes were cold and calculating, grey like a fog over the sea, but those facts aren’t what caused your near startled reaction. You had seen eyes very similar to hers before, they were almost hauntingly familiar.

Neither you nor the dark-skinned woman halt your steps, but the tall woman cocks her head ever so slightly as she keeps looking at you with her piercing eyes, and a slow, feral smirk curls the corners of her lips up as she passes you by. Now you do stop, and look after her. But she keeps on walking, striding out of the tavern and out of your sight without a backwards glance. A cold shiver runs down your back; something about that smile of hers was just plain creepy and disturbing. Unsettled, you force yourself to move again, fixing your eyes on Jack who’s thoughtfully staring down at his plate.

“Hey,” you greet Jack as you sit down across him, trying to sound cheery although there’s a slight nervous tremor in your tone after the mysterious woman smiled at you. Shaking that off quickly, you point at his half-empty plate and inquire amusedly, "You're not gonna finish that?"

Jack shakes his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, and pushes the plate aside with one finger. "Lost me appetite, sort of. So, how're things at me Pearl?"

You smile, expecting this question. "Everything is in perfect shipshape, so there's absolutely nothing to worry about."

Jack nods. "Good. Excellent," he says lightly, but you can't help but to notice that he seems a bit distracted. Raising your brow, you wonder what's bothering him.

"Okay, what's the matter?"

Jack looks at you, expression puzzled. "Matter?" he repeats. "Nothing's the matter."

"Something has to be the matter, you seem preoccupied. Has something happened?" you press, cocking your head to the side slightly.

Jack narrows his eyes slightly at you. "You never give up, do you?" he asks dryly, but there's an amused undertone in his voice.

You grin. "Not on my lifetime. Come on, tell me all about it. Best friends, remember?"

Regarding you for a moment in silence, Jack finally exhales softly and leans back in his chair. "Did you happen to come across a tall woman on your way back here? Black hair, grey eyes, general air of eeriness about her…?" Jack trails off with small smile.

You raise your brows at the perfect description of the woman who smiled at you in that spine-chilling way of hers before striding out of the tavern only moments ago. "I did, actually. Passed her by at the entrance. She was creepy, wasn't she? She smiled at me in this really perturbing way, almost as if she'd known me. Mind you, I've never seen her before, but there was something unsettlingly familiar about her…"

Now it's Jack who raises his brow inquisitively. "What do you mean familiar?"

You shrug your shoulders a little. "I can't explain it, really. Maybe it was her eyes, they seemed familiar. Like I'd seen them before somewhere. But that was probably just my overactive imagination speaking."

Jack listens closely, eyes narrowed ever so slightly in thought. "I see… Well, she did know you, even if you didn't know her. That was the notorious Captain Delgado, herself."

Your eyes widen at the news. The ruthless woman who killed without mercy and left the Commodore to die in the middle of the Caribbean had passed you by only by inches. "That Amazon was Gabriela Delgado?!" you ask in disbelief.

"The one and only, luv. She knows you're my friend and part of me crew."

You wait for a moment, expecting Jack to go on. He doesn't. "And that's a bad thing…?" you ask him, shaking your head a little.

"It has potential to be," Jack replies, looking at you. "She was rather interested about the status of our relationship," he says solemnly, and suddenly grins shrewdly. "Although I can't really blame her for that. Probably jealous she can't have me herself."

You sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. Only Jack could break the serious mood with such suggestive, arrogant comment. Wait a minute, 'can't have me herself'? What was that supposed to mean…?

"You're incorrigible, Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Jack Sparrow, darling," he automatically corrects with a raised forefinger. You can't help but to smile at that oh-so typical line. In all its egotism and annoyance, there's something simply endearing about his insistence to correct the lack of his title every time.

"You're unbelievable," you chuckle.

Jack grins and leans closer to you, speaking in low voice. "You have no idea."

"I think I have a hunch," your reply with a smile. As much as you enjoy this banter, you want to know more about Delgado and what did she want from Jack. "Back to the point, alright? What exactly did Delgado want? Somehow I don't think she stopped by to wish you a good morning," you say, watching Jack's reaction.

"Actually, she did say that," Jack points out.

"Well, what do you know, a polite murderer," you reply sarcastically.

"And then some," Jack adds with amused smile, but grows serious after a moment. "Well, basically, she told me not to trust the good Commodore and get together with her instead. We'd search for the treasure together and split it in two," he explains casually.

You blink, marvelling at the audacity of the woman. "She certainly has a lot of nerve," you finally say slowly.

"Believe me, you don't know the half of it," Jack mutters while studying his fingernails.

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth, wondering what it was exactly that Delgado had told Jack, and what had Jack responded to her in return. Surely Jack wouldn't turn his coat like that and join forces with Delgado instead? No way. Jack was a man of his word, as was the Commodore. If Norrington promised he'd give Jack a full pardon, then that's what he would do. It was sheer stupidity to even think otherwise. But Gabriela Delgado wasn't one to play fair, and something told you she was good in playing tricks with one's minds.

"What exactly did she say to you?" you ask Jack softly.

Jack smiles sardonically, still picking on his nails. "Oh, you know, the usual… the Commodore cannot be trusted and he'll only hang me at the end of the day. That she could give me more than I could ever imagine; riches, power and all that."

You narrow your eyes a bit. So, dear ole Gabby was seducing Jack over to her side by offering him everything a pirate could desire. You had to admit, that was clever. But Jack was not a betrayer like her. He was a good man with his heart on the right place. One thing suddenly crosses your mind; the map. Gabriela couldn't find the treasure without the missing piece, now could she?

"What about the map-half we have? I take it you didn't tell her about it…?"

"No," Jack affirms with laughter in his voice, finally looking at you in the eyes and grinning slightly. "I figured it was best for me own hide to keep that little piece of information from her for the time being."

You smile back, nodding. "Very wise decision."

"Aye, I like to think so," Jack replies with a smirk.

You eye Jack for a moment, before speaking softly. "You do know that the Commodore doesn't go back on his word. And you don't make promises you can't or don't intend to keep…"

"I'm aware of that, luv," Jack says solemnly while gazing at you. "Truth be told, I was tempted by her offer. For a moment, but tempted nevertheless… I wouldn't be much of a pirate if I hadn't, now would I?" he grins slightly and you give him a small smile, waiting for him to go on. "But I have no intentions of turning into a bloody backstabber. People like that are the very ones I loathe with all that I have."

You nod, and judging by the slightly bitter note in his voice you know Jack means Barbossa. He stabbed Jack in the back unlike nobody ever before, and that was something Jack would never forget. Even though Jack had come a long way with his trust issues during these past few years, you were certain there was still a part of him that never truly would get over the mutiny and the betrayal, a small part that reminded him not to trust people so easily. That wasn't really a bad thing, the life of a pirate was full of perils and one should always keep their eyes open. But you had a feeling that during the last few years, you, Will, Elizabeth, Gibbs and Anamaria had helped him a lot with that. He wasn't the same loner anymore that he'd been before the incident that that brought you, Jack and Will together that day on Port Royal.

"Besides," Jack speaks up again, smile spreading to his lips as he looks at you, "I'd miss having you around."

You raise your brow in pleased amusement, smirking. "Oh, really?"

"But of course! Who else would pester me incessantly with all kinds of questions and drink rum with me? Not to mention share me views about raisins," he grins.

You laugh at this, shaking your head and smiling at his words. "Certainly not Delgado..."

Jack kept an eye on you, seeing that you were processing his earlier words. All the things he said were true; he had no intentions of turning into Barbossa himself. Yet, the idea of the treasure and being richer than a king appealed to Jack immensely. But the option of taking Delgado up on her offer was out of the question. Then again… who ever said he'd have to play by Delgado's rules? He'd just set his own ones, keep his word to the Commodore and get everything else he wanted in the process. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow! Nothing was impossible, just improbable. The plan was already starting to form in his mind, and Jack couldn't curb the self-satisfied grin that curled his lips upwards.

You notice the grin that suddenly spreads on Jack's face, and wonder to yourself what was going on in his mind this time. The man was a regular enigma, one that you'd stopped trying to figure out months ago; you'd never fully succeed, it seemed. "What are you grinning about, now?"

Jack blinks, wiping the grin off his face and looking innocent. "Nothing at all, luv."

You frown a little, but not in displeased manner. "Right," you say, unconvinced, but let the matter be. “Alright, just as long as that’s settled. But remember that if you even think of taking Delgado up on her offer, I’ll deck you and lock you up in your quarters until you come to your senses,” you tease in light tone.

Jack raises a brow, mischievous glint in his eyes. “Would you, now?” he says, smiling in a way that only the corners of his mouth curl up slightly. You have no idea how he does it, but it looks undeniably good.

“Damn straight, I’d tie you to your bed,” you reply, wincing inwardly as you realize the many ways that comment could be interpreted. Jack’s smile stretches into a grin as he reaches the same conclusion, typically interpreting it in the naughty way.

“Really? Why luv, I didn’t know you fancied that sort of thing, but I’m definitely up for it,” he says with a sly grin, deliberately choosing the words to make his reply as suggestive as possible. “Oh yes, it sounds like fun. Come to think about it, it does… tie in nicely with that wanting to be on top inclination or yours,” he trails off with a smirk.

You chuckle and smirk back. “Your uncanny ability to twist everything into a sexual connotation is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.”

Jack grins again, that familiar glint lighting up his eyes, and you quickly hold up your hands. “No, stop! Don’t say it!” you cry, almost certain what Jack was about to crack next, but Jack pays your objection no mind.

“Luv, that’s not my only ability that’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before!” Jack grins victoriously and you groan in frustration, leaning your elbow on the table and holding your forehead with your palm.

“You just had to say that, didn’t you…” you mutter.

Jack’s broad grin seems to be etched on his face. “Can I help it if you keep giving me all these lovely chances? Come on, you know you like it.”

You give Jack a wry look that speaks volumes and open your mouth to reply, but a flurry of movement suddenly appearing next to your table interrupts you.

“Good morning!” Elizabeth chips cheerily as she stops next to your table, practically dragging Will behind her by his hand. She’s still dressed in her trousers and shirt, looking nothing like the Governor’s daughter, a respectable lady from Port Royal. Before neither you nor Jack manages to reply, Elizabeth goes on, obviously exited. “Will and I are going out to explore the town a bit better. We’ll be back in an hour or two,” she goes on, not staying around to chat but already pulls Will along with her towards the exit.

Will rolls his eyes behind Elizabeth but smiles, shrugging his shoulders at you and Jack. Jack grins impishly and rolls his wrist, making a whiplash-sound. You snicker, and Will points his finger at Jack in a “don’t do that again” manner before he’s dragged off by over-enthusiastic Elizabeth.

“Young love,” Jack says as the two disappear. “Poor William, the lass already has him whipped. And they’re not even married yet!”

“Aye,” you agree. A sudden thought crosses your mind, and before you even realize it, you blurt the question out. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”

Jack looks at you, taken aback. “Me? Married? Ha! Now there’s a thought,” he says wryly. “No, can’t say that I have, luv. My life isn’t exactly fit for marriage, I can’t be settled down anytime soon…” he muses, and glances at you. “What about you?”

You shake your head faintly. “No, haven’t really thought about it…”

Jack nods in understanding, and a slightly awkward silence ensues. Why does it feel awkward, you have no idea. After a moment of quietness, Jack finally speaks up.

“Fancy a drink?”

“I’d love one.”

* * *

Nerita sneered to herself as she sat down in the shabby tavern, glancing around in distaste. The darn tavern, if the rat hole could be called that, was full of lousy, drunken idiots even though the afternoon hadn’t even fully begun yet. Not to mention the place was on the other side of the harbour, which meant Nerita had to walk all the way through the town. Nerita, unlike pirates normally, hated Tortuga. It was full of seedy men and women, drunkards, whores and cheaters. Enough reasons for her to detest the entire island. But her Captain wanted to see her in the tavern, and like the faithful first mate that she was, Nerita was there on the appointed time, as always.

The diminutive Spaniard unconsciously ran her forefinger down the gruesome scar that split her cheek from her jaw line to the inner corner of her eye, like she had a habit of doing when she was either uneasy or deep in thought. Delgado was fifteen minute late, and every minute she had to sit in the shabby tavern only made her feel more aggravated; the drunken noise in the background was starting to pain her ears. She absolutely hated drunkards, especially men. She’d suffered long enough in the hands of an abusive drunkard before becoming a pirate.

That was also how she received her scar; her late husband had smacked her with an empty bottle one night after again having too much to drink. The bottle had broken, as had her face; Nerita was lucky she hadn’t lost her eye in the process. That had been the night when Nerita had finally had enough; three years of beating had hardened her to the point where she’d taken another bottle and returned the favour, smashing it against her husbands skull with a violent force. Thinking back on the incident, Nerita couldn’t recall if the cracking sound came from the bottle or his head, but the result had been a desired one; her husband ended up lying on the floor, lifeless, crimson substance matting his hair and forming a puddle on the carpet.

“My apologies for being late,” Gabriela Delgado’s smooth Spanish snapped Nerita out of her reflective state, and she looked up in time to see Gabriela sit down across from her.

“It’s alright,” Nerita replied shortly. She was never particularly talkative.

Gabriela cocked her head inquisitively. “Is everything alright? You seem shaken, almost…”

“Everything is fine,” Nerita insisted with a dismissive wave of her hand. “How are your plans advancing?”

Gabriela smiled faintly. “You’re changing the subject, Nerita. But if you don’t wish to talk about it, then I suppose I cannot make you,” she replied indifferently. “As for my plans… everything is working out exactly as I had intended,” Gabriela smirked. “Of course.”

“Of course,” Nerita chorused smoothly, but said nothing more. Over-confidence was one of Delgado’s biggest flaws, one that might seriously backfire on her someday. But Nerita knew better than to point that out to her. If there was something Gabriela could not stand, it was others pointing out her own mistakes and flaws. “What of Jack Sparrow?”

Slow smirk curled Gabriela’s lips upwards. “Captain Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl are almost as good as our allies, Nerita. I’m certain he will take me up on my offer. He’d be a fool not to.”

Nerita was not feeling as certain about it as Delgado was, but again kept her opinions to herself. “Are you sure?” she asked tentatively instead.

“I know you aren’t as sure as I am,” Delgado said wryly, with a slightly condescending look at her first mate, “But I know how that man’s mind works. Believe me, everything will work out perfectly.”

“I see,” Nerita replied emotionlessly. “And the map? Has you informant given you any information about its whereabouts?”

Gabriela’s eyes grew stormy. “Not yet. But I’m giving the pitiful excuse of human being one last chance. He claims he can find out something that leads us back on the right track.”

Nerita raised a sardonic brow. “That’s a big claim.”

Gabriela’s eyes flickered to meet Nerita’s gaze, and she grinned almost maliciously. “I know. I’m almost expecting him to fail me. That pig is nothing but a waste of space.”

Nerita grinned slightly. Gabriela’s ardent hate and disgust towards men was almost amusing. But obviously this Jack Sparrow had impressed the icy Captain; he was the only male Nerita recalled Gabriela being favourable towards, meaning she hadn’t killed him yet.

Nerita had known Gabriela since she was barely twenty years old, and knew that Gabriela’s deeply rooted hate towards the opposite sex had started since she was but a little girl, never having had a father figure in her life. She had been raised by her mother, Esperanza, and her now deceased grandfather, Jose Delgado. Esperanza’s occupation had also left its mark on little Gabriela; she was a prostitute in Puerto Rico, and very much sought-after prostitute at that. She was renowned for her stunning beauty, and she could entertain numerous men during one evening. Gabriela had often wished that her mother wasn’t so beautiful; maybe then the men wouldn’t have come at all. Ironically, Gabriela had herself inherited Esperanza’s beauty, the very same she’d cursed as a child. Jose Delgado had been Gabriela’s confidant for years, but even all the respect Gabriela had had towards her grandfather did not save the rest of the men from her hate. Starting from her mysterious father, Gabriela loathed them all, and the revulsion had stayed with her until this very day.

“But still… there’s something amusing in the little man,” Gabriela mused aloud. “I suppose if he tells me something worthy tonight, I might even let him live.”

Nerita raised her brows. “How considerate.”

“Certainly much more than he deserves,” Gabriela replied. “We’ll see about that tonight. In the mean time, I want you to make sure we’re ready to set sail if need be.”

Nerita silently nodded her acquiescence, and Gabriela smiled. “I have a good feeling about this, Nerita; our quest is nearing its end. Finally, after almost ten years or searching...” flicking an unruly strand of black hair behind her shoulder, she grinned. “Soon, we’re going to richer than in our wildest dreams.”

Again, Nerita hoped she had Gabriela’s confidence in the matter.

* * *

Many hours later, the afternoon had turned into an evening, the sky started to dim and the people in Tortuga got even more drunk. The streets were bustling with drunks, whores and a bunch of assorted scallywags.

You and Jack had stayed in the Bride talking and having a few drinks after Will and Elizabeth rushed out to explore Tortuga. Although, Jack had pointed out that there wasn’t really that much to explore, it was all the same. Gibbs had stopped by earlier, and after having a drink, he was off again to the Pearl, Jack having sent him to retrieve the map half from his quarters.

You’d fully enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere, talking this and that with Jack. You had also told him about running into Otis the night before, and he had agreed with you that there was something odd about the whole encounter. Before you got to think about it further, Will and Elizabeth had returned safe and sound. Now with more people in your little party, you got up and searched another table with benches so you could all sit down. Luckily the very same table you’d sat by last night was free. It wasn’t very long until Gibbs arrived with Anamaria, the mulatto woman carrying Lucky in her arms. Promptly, she’d set the pup in your lap, looking relieved, but you could see the affectionate way Anamaria had glanced at the small dog only moments before. You hid your smile as Ana sat down on your other side and scratched the dog behind his large ears. Even Jack, who was sitting on your left side, inconspicuously patted the pup a few times when he thought you didn’t notice. There was something almost cute in the gesture.

Just as an older bar maid brought the drinks to your table, Commodore Norrington arrives all by himself. Jack smirks at the Commodore as he approaches the table. “Why, Commodore Norrington! So good you could join our merry little group. And you came just in time for a drink, too! If that’s not etiquette, I don’t know what is. Quite daring to venture into Tortuga all by your onesies, by the way…”

Norrington forces a smile on his face. “Well, I could hardly miss this appointment, now could I, Captain Sparrow,” he says shortly, moving over to sit on the bench with Will and Gibbs, whereas you, Anamaria and Elizabeth were sitting with Jack on the other side.

Jack chuckles slightly, taking a sip from his pint before addressing Gibbs across the table. “You have the piece, mate?”

“Aye Captain, I got it.”

“Good. I figure Lucas should be here any minute,” Jack replies, taking another drink.

“You’ve hardly told us anything about this Captain Fowler, Jack,” Will speaks up. “What’s he like? And how do you know him in the first place?”

Jack grins in amusement, obviously thinking about Fowler. “Well, mate, Fowler is… different. A bit odd, but in a good way, I assure you.”

You quirk your eyebrow and smirk. “Much like you then, eh?”

“Luv, no one is much like me…” Jack drawls in reply, and you chuckle. Well, that was true.

“I s’pose you’ll see soon. Ain’t that Fowler or am I mistaken?” Gibbs suddenly inquires, discreetly pointing with his finger at the figure that entered the tavern only some seconds ago.

Jack blinks, and takes a look at the man Gibbs pointed towards, as does everybody else on the table. The man is walking toward the bar with purposeful strides with slight, barely detectable sway in his steps that could only be the remaining remnant from his life aboard a ship. He’s wearing a worn, light brown overcoat that brushes against his booted calves as he walks. You can’t see his face properly, but you frown at his behaviour over the bar; he’s explaining something to the bartender very animatedly, motioning with his hands wildly. Very much like certain someone that’s currently sitting next to you. His hair is dark and longer than men of his age usually wear it, but not overly so. His overall appearance seems eerily alike Jack’s. You glance at Jack for an explanation, but he’s looking at Fowler. The man finally gets his tankard, and he grabs it quickly from the counter. Turning around deftly with the pint clutched in his hand, Fowler starts striding towards your table. Now you see that his hair has a dash of grey over the temples, and he has a neatly trimmed dark beard.

Jack stands up, and Fowler’s gaze is drawn on him. Fowler’s head jerks back ever so slightly in surprise and his eyes widen for a second. His brown eyes.

“’Ello, Lucas!” Jack says cheerfully, grinning so broadly his golden teeth glint in the candlelight.

Fowler blinks, getting over his initial astonishment of seeing Jack. “’Ell, I’ll be!” he says as he stares at Jack, and then grins as well. “Whelp!”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 17 – Questions and Answers

“Whelp!”

Lucas Fowler’s cheerful exclamation causes numerous reactions to occur simultaneously; Jack cringes and squeezes his eyes shut, you arch your brows high in incredulous amusement, Will snickers audibly, Elizabeth bites her lip to curb her laughter, Gibbs takes a quick drink from his pint to hide his smirk, Norrington looks confused, and Anamaria grins broadly, shamelessly enjoying Jack’s uneasiness.

“Whelp…?” you finally repeat slowly, your repressed laughter making your voice tremble slightly. Jack turns a bit to give you a sharp look that clearly tells you that he never wants to hear the word again unless it’s directed at Will. You smirk. Too bad; this is just too good to pass up!

“You know I hate that name,” Jack grumbles unpleasantly as he regards Fowler again.

Fowler grins. “Aye, I’m aware o’ that. But don’t ye go forgettin’ I practically raised you, so I think I’ll be callin’ you whelp if I bloody well please,” he finishes in a matter-a-fact tone. Jack looks utterly frustrated, throwing his hands up in exasperation and letting out a small grunt.

Fowler regards Jack’s reaction with amusement, knowing he has the upper hand in the situation. Cutting Jack some slack, the old Captain finally smirks. “But enough o’ that fer now. Lad, ye sure look more like yer father every time I see you. How long has it been? Five years? Six? Ye could visit yer ol’ uncle a bit mo’ often, y’know!”

“Aye, if you hadn’t told me the last time to keep clear from you for few years,” Jack counters with a smirk of his own.

Fowler looks slightly puzzled as he thinks this. “Did I, now? Hmm… ‘ell, in that case. Oy, where be yer manners, boy? Do introduce me to yer friends. ‘Specially to these bonnie lasses you have ‘ere…” Fowler trails off with a charming smile towards your, Anamaria’s and Elizabeth’s direction.

Jack looks slightly aggravated by Fowler’s small slight and his interest towards the three of you. Your lips twitch as you try to contain your smile; this was certainly the most fun you’d had in a while. So, Fowler’s had “practically raised” Jack? Then it was no wonder how alike the two men were, Jack obviously idolizes this Lucas Fowler. But you couldn’t help but to notice that there was a small resemblance in their facial features, as well. Fowler was maybe an inch or two taller than Jack, but whereas Jack was relatively lithely built, Fowler was of somewhat heavier make; not over-weight in the least, just a bit sturdy. Fowler’s voice was deep and had a gravel-like rumble to it, slightly lower than Jack’s. You figure it was because of all the years of consuming (most likely considerable amounts of) rum. You briefly wonder if Jack got is passion for the liquor from Fowler, if he had indeed raised Jack.

“Alright, alright…” Jack mutters, turning around and waving his hands in flamboyant circle. “My good ladies, gentlemen… this here is Captain Lucas Fowler. He’s also my father’s brother, which would make him my uncle.”

Jack’s uncle? You raise your brow; well, that certainly explains a lot of things. You’re surprised and intrigued at the same time; Jack’s past had been pretty much a mystery to everyone, and now suddenly his uncle was here, one that had apparently been responsible of Jack’s upbringing. That created more questions; who was his father, and why had Jack’s uncle raised him instead of his parents? Were his parents even alive anymore? Jack went on, introducing everyone to Fowler.

“You already know Mister Gibbs here, my quartermaster,” Jack said, waving his hand slightly in Gibbs’ direction.

“Certainly I remember,” Fowler replies smoothly, and offers his free hand for a handshake. Turning his attention from Gibbs to Will, Fowler frowns thoughtfully before glancing at his nephew. “Are me old eyes deceivin’ me? This cannot be Bootstrap Bill I see!”

“No, not quite,” Jack answers. “That be good ol’ Bootstrap’s son, Will Turner.”

“Ah,” Fowler says with raised brows, offering his hand to Will. “Named ye after yer father, then. I knew your father, since he was hangin’ around this hoodlum,” he smirks, nodding his head towards Jack who rolls his eyes. “Good man he was, and a great pirate. I was honoured to know ‘im. ‘Tis a pleasure to meet ye,” he tells Will solemnly as they shake hands.

“Likewise,” Will smiles, appreciating Fowler’s words about his father.

Next, Fowler regards Norrington and narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Now, I may ‘ave been layin’ it low for some years already, but I still know a redcoat when I see one.”

Norrington raises his brows, looking slightly snubbed by the depreciatory term.

“Now, now,” Jack says placatingly. “This is Commodore Norrington, from the Royal Navy of England. Sailed with us from Port Royal, and was kind enough to offer his assistance with our current… undertaking,” Jack finishes with a smile.

Fowler darts his eyes to Jack, shooting him a dubious look. “Ye were always one to get yourself tangled in all sorts of odd predicaments, lad. I see that hasn’t changed,” he says wryly, causing Jack to briefly flick his eyes upwards in decidedly frustrated way. “Interestin’ to meet ye, Commodore,” Fowler tells Norrington diplomatically.

Norrington offers Fowler a tight smile. “The feeling is mutual, I’m sure.”

“And here we have Elizabeth, young William’s bride to be,” Jack introduces. “Lovely lass, but has a nasty partiality to burn perfectly fine rum…” he trails off with a meaningful look in Elizabeth’s direction that lets her know Jack would never forgive that.

“Are you ever going to let that matter drop?” Elizabeth demands.

“Not likely!” Jack replies, and you smirk. Rum was indeed a sacred thing to Jack.

Fowler smirks, before placing his free hands on his chest and bowing a little and smiling. “Charming to meet ye, milady.”

Elizabeth smiles back. “As well as you, Captain Fowler.”

“And this be Anamaria, my firstmate and a bloody good pirate. Though she’s a bit spirited, so you should be careful around her. She packs a mean slap,” Jack grins despite Anamaria’s glare.

“Those are reserved just fer ye,” Anamaria replies dryly and nods to Fowler in a way of greeting with a small smile.

“Aren’t I lucky,” Jack mutters to himself, but you catch him anyway since he’s pretty close. “And last but most certainly not the least, my best mate and a great crewmember,” Jack introduces you with a grin.

You smile and offer your hand to be shaken, but much to your surprise, Fowler takes it in his and kisses the back of your hand lightly. “Enchanted to meet you,” he smiles.

You grin back. “The pleasure is all mine,” you reply. Yep, this was certainly Jack’s relative, alright!

“Alright, enough of that,” Jack says abruptly, motioning for Gibbs, Will and Norrington to shove over so that Fowler can sit down as well. They do so, and the older man sits down while Jack takes his place next to you, across from Fowler. You wonder about Jack’s behaviour when Fowler kissed your hand; he appeared almost annoyed. As if he was… jealous? Surely not?

“Byrne, eh?” Fowler asks you after taking a drink from his pint. “Ye be Bloodshot Pete Byrne’s daughter, then?”

You nod. “Aye, I am.”

Fowler raises his brows. “That’s very interestin’. Did you two know yer fathers knew one another?” he asks, waving his forefinger between you and Jack. You blink in disbelief, and Jack frowns.

“Apparently not,” Fowler concludes, taking another gulp of rum.

“Wait, are you saying my father and Jack’s knew each other?” you ask incredulously.

“Exactly so,” Fowler replies. “A long time ago, of course. Joshua told me in one o’ his letters. Joshua Fowler, that is,” Fowler clarifies to you and the others. “He was me younger brother and Jack’s father.”

“When did this happen?” Jack asks, narrowing his eyes.

“A good thirty years back,” Fowler says after thinking about it for a moment. “Well, ye know yer father was a thief as well as I do, Jack.”

“A highway man,” Jack corrects with a small smile. “He detested to be called a thief.”

Fowler rolls his eyes. “Stole from people nonetheless. I think ye were born around the time Joshua and Pete Byrne met in London. Joshua wrote he’d ‘met a fine fellow from Ireland with an eye for a good catch’. Meanin’ he could spot carriages and things like that which had most to rob with ease.”

All this new information was making your head spin. Your father and Jack’s were stealing together? Suppose it was possible, since your father never told you much about his life before he met your mother Melissa. “So they robbed carriages together…?” you ask Fowler tentatively.

“Among other things, aye. After a year or so, Pete however travelled to the Caribbean and took up piracy.”

You glance at Jack, who meets your gaze and shakes his head slightly, letting you know he had no idea about this, either. Everybody else had been listening intently on Fowler’s story, staying silent.

“Well, that was certainly unexpected.” Jack finally breaks the silence, his tone characteristically blithe. You nod your head in agreement, still puzzling over the news.

“’Tis a small world indeed,” Fowler says sagely. “So, whelp,” he goes on, eliciting a new round of snickers especially from Will who seemed to be having a blast, grinning victoriously at Jack’s obvious chagrin.

“Please stop saying that,” Jack mutters.

“’Ave ye gotten me ship back?” Fowler goes on, ignoring Jack’s muttered plea.

“Your ship?!” he exclaims incredulously with wide eyes. “The Pearl’s been my ship for good eleven years! And yes, I got her back last year,” Jack finishes quickly in more subdued tone before taking a drink from his pint.

“Eleven years in which ye spent near ten tryin’ to retrieve her from that bastard Barbossa,” Fowler says dryly. “I told ye that boy was nothin’ but trouble, but did ye listen? O’ course ye didn’t.”

“I got your point, thanks very much,” Jack grumbles sourly. Glancing at Jack, you lightly pat his arm in hopes to calm him down. High blood pressure wasn’t good.

“The Black Pearl was your ship, then?” Elizabeth asks Fowler curiously, her eyes sparkling with the promise of more information to be added in her vast collection of pirate stories.

“That it was, missy!” Fowler smiles. “The finest ship in the Caribbean. Aye, I still remember the day I showed her to Jack, ‘ere. The boy was barely twelve when I took ‘im under me wing, all skinny like and had more hair than was necessary fer a boy that age,” Fowler recalls, and Jack props his elbow on the table and presses his palm on his forehead, groaning in embarrassment as Fowler’s comments prompt more chuckling.

The image of Jack as a twelve-year-old, scrawny and with a mop of unruly dark hair is enough to cause you to smile widely, and you cast your gaze downwards, looking at the peacefully sleeping pup on your lap in order to hide your smile.

“Anyway, I thought fer sure the boy’s jaw was about to drop, he was gawking at the ship in such way,” Fowler goes on with a grin. “’Ell, when Jack finally turned twenty four, I gave ‘im the Pearl as I wanted to settle down with me girl and keep a bit lower profile.”

So, Jack had been sailing under Fowler’s tutelage for… thirteen years. Heck, it was no wonder then that he might have picked up some of the older man’s mannerisms along the way. Very interesting...

“Alright, now that you’ve successfully recounted all those lovely little tidbits about me life and profusely embarrassed me, what say you we get to business,” Jack says wryly, glancing at Gibbs.

“Aye. ‘Ere ye are,” Gibbs says, taking the yellowed piece of parchment from his pocket and handing it to Jack who accepts it with a nod of thanks.

“Luv here,” Jack starts with a small nod towards you, “found something interesting from the hold of the Pearl recently. I figured you might know a thing or two about this…”

Fowler’s eyes widen as he glances down at the map piece spread on the table in front of him. “Bloody hell!” he exclaims, taking the piece in his hand and scrutinizing it closely. Then he chuckles humourlessly. “This be a piece from the map of the Abyss, lad.”

“Aye, we’ve found out that much,” Jack replies lazily. “The real question is, what exactly is the Abyss?”

Fowler lets out a soft sigh, tearing his eyes from the piece. “What is the Abyss, eh? Well then, I will tell you a little story. Get comfy, this might take a bit…” he trails off, taking a drink from his pint before speaking again.

“Alright. ’S been a while since I’ve told this particular tale, so excuse me if me memory fails at points. Anyway, when me and Joshua were nothin’ but few unruly kids back in England, our grandfather used to tell us this tale ev’rytime he saw us. Now Joshua was ne’er one to be too interested, but I tried to pay attention since it seemed to be an important matter fer the old man. The Abyss was a ship that belonged to the ancient Greeks. And that’s where the story begins.

“Before the war of Troy, there was a young couple. The man and the woman were in love with one another, and that’s nothin’ unusual. But the woman was Cassandra, daughter of King Priam of Troy, whereas the young man was Aeneas, a soldier of kinds who fought for the Trojans in the war. [AN1] Cassandra had learned the gift of foresight from the god Apollo, and prophesised future events that were, more often than not, very disastrous. She even predicted the outcome of the war, and the use of the infamous wooden horse.”

“But if Cassandra knew what was going to happen, how come the city was destroyed after all?” Elizabeth asks, puzzled.

“Exactly, missy,” Fowler smirks. “Simple. Even though Cassandra uttered true prophecies, people rarely took ‘er word for it. They were scared of the horrors she described, and deemed her crazy. Even Aeneas sometimes found the visions of hers hard to believe, despite his love for her. ‘Ell, the war did happen after all, as did the wooden horse. Finally after many years of war, Aeneas fled the city that was by then bein’ consumed by flames and took his love with him, as well as other women, children and elders he managed to save. They came to Mount Ida, where they were joined by inhabitants and troops who had left Dardanus and other cities after seein’ at the distance the fire rising from Troy. With the help of the other men, Aeneas built a fleet in the city of Antandrus and set sail. The ship Aeneas and Cassandra sailed on, as you may have guessed, was the Abyss.

“They spent months sailing around the Mediterranean Sea, searching for a place to settle down and start their lives all over. They moved from city to city, and finally arrived to Carthage, a city in Egypt that was ruled by Queen Dido. But once they arrived, Cassandra told Aeneas that the visit would only bring death and destruction upon them. Aeneas shook off her words, claiming everythin’ would be fine even though he probably should ‘ave listened to her. One would think if a gal already sees the war and the horse he’d take ‘er a bit more seriously,” Fowler mutters wryly with a roll of his eyes before continuing the story.

“As it was, Queen Dido fell in love with the handsome Aeneas, but the man didn’t return her affections since he was completely enamoured by the beautiful Cassandra. This o’ course made the Queen outraged and envious, and even though she outwardly seemed hospitable, she was plottin’ on the best way to get her revenge on the young lovers. Havin’ some skills of her own, the Queen placed a curse upon Aeneas’ sword that had been mended by Dido’s blacksmiths, and returned the said sword to him with a smile when Aeneas and Cassandra were about to leave Carthage and continue their journey.”

“A curse…?” Will repeats with apprehension. You can sympathize; dealing with curses wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Fowler nods grimly. “Aye, a curse. After departing from Carthage, Cassandra had another vision; her very own death. Before she got to tell Aeneas about her vision, chaos broke loose aboard the Abyss. It seemed that the curse Queen Dido had placed upon the sword made the men turn against each other in blind rage. Several men were killed; in fact only a handful was still alive when one of them tried to kill Aeneas. That’s when Cassandra’s vision came true; the woman was unable to stand the thought of her loved one dying, so she threw herself between the two men, and in the process got stabbed by Aeneas’ own sword.”

“That’s awful!” Elizabeth interjects quietly, and even Anamaria looks slightly sad.

“Aye,” Fowler says. “This apparently broke the curse, and the men were again back to their selves. But Queen Dido had had her revenge; most of the men were dead, and Cassandra lay lifeless in Aeneas’ arms. Aeneas was crushed. The only woman he’d ever loved had been killed, and by his own sword, nonetheless. Driven by rage and sorrow, Aeneas forced the remaining men off the ship and in the sea, to be picked up by the other ships. By himself, Aeneas sailed off the Mediterranean, across the Atlantic and on until he arrived to the Caribbean, sailing the ship somewhere where it would never be found. The rest of the fleet sailed to Italy, but neither Aeneas nor the Abyss was never to be seen again,” Fowler finishes, and a moment of silence ensues as everyone considers the tragic story.

“So, ironically it was Aeneas in the time of the ancient Greeks that first found the Caribbean instead of Christopher Columbus in 1492,” Jack muses thoughtfully, amused edge in his tone while absently stroking his chin.

Norrington, Will and Elizabeth look at Jack as if he’d grown another head. Noticing this, Jack raises his brows. “What? Just because I’m a pirate doesn’t mean I don’t know any history,” he says in amusement.

You smile at this; you’ve gotten familiar with the fact that Jack does indeed know history, very well in fact. He remembers years and events very clearly, especially if they have something to do with sailing or piracy.

“So what does Delgado want with the ship, then?” you speculate.

“Delgado?” Fowler asks, straightening his spine and glancing at Jack.

“Aye, Captain Gabriela Delgado has the other half of the map, and believe me, she’s hell-bent on finding that ship. She doesn’t know we have the other piece,” Jack informs the older man.

“Damn,” Fowler grumbles. “I thought the Delgado’s were out of the picture after Jose Delgado died. Gabriela’s his grandchild I gather, since Jose only had one daughter and she’s no sailor. See, this map was in possession of the Fowlers long before Jose Delgado, that’s why it has the Fowler family crest ‘ere, but Jose Delgado’s father was the one who stole it to himself at some point. He was greedy and envious, and wanted to find the ship and its treasure. The map was later retrieved by my grandfather’s father, but the map was accidentally split in two in the process; one half was left to Jose Delgado’s father and the other to my grandfather’s father. Our piece got lost along the years, but now it seems that you’ve found it and brought it back. As for Delgado… if she’s as greedy as Jose, like she probably is, she wants the treasure inside the ship. The Abyss was filled with valuables the refugees from Troy and other cities took with them.”

You happen to glance towards the other end of the tavern, and your heart nearly skips a beat when you catch the sight of a familiar figure. It’s Otis; apparently in a hurry to leave the tavern. You frown; the fact that you’ve seen the man twice now can’t be just a mere coincidence. And why was he in such a hurry to leave? What was he doing in the Bride in the first place; he rarely went into any other tavern but his own. The sighting makes you feel uneasy, and you tug on the sleeve of Jack’s coat to get his attention.

“What’s the matter?”

“Look there,” you say, nodding towards the entrance. Jack glances towards the outdoor, just in time to catch Otis lumbering out.

Jack frowns. “He was certainly in a hurry.”

“Aye, and I don’t think he was here just for a drink. What if he was eavesdropping on us?”

Jack thinks about it for a moment, before looking at you with a decidedly mischievous grin. “There’s only one way to find out, luv!”

* * *

“Ouch!” you gripe as you stub your toe on a rock lying on the ground. Despite your boot, your toe still throbs slightly after the unintentional blow.

“Hush,” Jack admonishes, and you poke your tongue at his back in reply as you slink behind him along the dark alleyways of Tortuga.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” you hiss back.

Jack gives you a quick, incredulous look behind his shoulder. “’Course I do! I’m Captain Jack Sparrow!”

You’d mouthed the last part along with him, knowing he was going to say it. You’d left the Faithful Bride with Jack after clearing the situation quickly to the others and leaving still-sleeping Lucky in Anamaria’s care before hurrying to shadow after Otis before he got away. Fortunately, Otis wasn’t actually what you might call ‘agile’, so you managed to catch up with him quite easily. Suddenly, Jack stops in his tracks and you slam into his back, stumbling a little as you gain your footing again and take a half-step back. Jack has stopped next to a corner of a building, few small palm trees growing next to the street.

“Now, curb your enthusiasm luv, there’s plenty of time for that kind of thing later,” Jack drawls with a broad grin as he glances at you.

Instead of answering verbally, you settle for giving him a look that’s something between amusement and exasperation. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because our lumbering quarry did so first,” Jack replies with a small smile, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Mhm. And you couldn’t give me a heads up that you were about to stop, now couldn’t you?”

Jack’s grin is impish and his dark eyes seem to have a spark in them even in the darkness of the night as he again looks at you. “Now, come on luv. Where would be the fun in that?”

“So you enjoy that much having me run into you?” you ask with a smirk as you peer at Otis behind Jack’s back. The fat man seems to be standing rather idly in front of his tavern, glancing around into the dark streets in nervous fashion. You’ve never seen him look quite that shaken before, and wonder who he is waiting for. You doubt he’d stand there if he weren’t expecting somebody.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jack responds to your teasing question, his tone light and typically somewhat suggestive. “You’re all soft and lovely to–”

“Ahem...”

“What?” Jack asks innocently. “Well, you are.”

You smile at his insisting tone, he sounds like a little boy determined to have the last word. You briefly wonder how the typical light-hearted banter between the two of you has recently changed into something more charged, suggestive exchange. Sure Jack was suggestive before, too, but it’s somehow different nowadays; you can’t quite explain it. You cast a speculative glance at Jack, who’s again observing Otis. What’s going on in that head of yours, Jack?

You’re about to open your mouth to speak up again, but Jack moves faster than you can realize. In what seems to be a split-second of time, he suddenly turns and snakes his arm around your waist, taking a quick step to right and pulling you with him behind the corner, hiding your presence in the shadows and palm branches that hang low. Jack leans his back against the building and pulls you flush against his front before you can even comprehend it, his both arms around your waist holding you still firmly. Your eyes widen and you realize your palms are flat against his chest, feeling the soft skin of his chest beneath your fingertips.

“This is hardly the time or place to test anybody’s softness, Jack!” you hiss, finally regaining the control of your wits and try to wriggle yourself a bit further from his body.

Jack glances down at you with a smirk, speaking in low tone. “Luv, you’d better stop squirming or certain things won’t stay soft much longer.”

You halt your movements immediately, knowing all too well which certain thing he was referring to. You give Jack a wry look and give up, relaxing your posture. Jack smiles, slightly victoriously it seems, before slanting his head to the side and returning his attention back to Otis. You follow his gaze, leaning a tiny bit closer to Jack as you too peer over the corner of the building you’re leaning against. Your eyes widen again at the sight.

“Oh, damn,” you whisper, seeing Otis standing outside his shabby tavern… with no other than Captain Gabriela Delgado herself. Even in the darkness, her formidable frame is easily recognizable.

“Wouldn’t argue with that assessment,” Jack replies slowly, his tone surprisingly light despite the worrying situation.

Otis and Delgado are too far away for either you or Jack to hear what is being said, but the fact that Otis knows Delgado is enough. And seeing how Otis hurried away from the Bride and headed straight to meet Delgado, it’s almost certain that he was spying on Jack for Delgado. And if Otis overheard the business about the map, he will of course relay everything to Delgado. And after Delgado finds out that Jack has the map even though he claimed otherwise, she will not be a particularly happy person. You glance up at Jack, deciphering from his expression that he’s thinking the same.

“Well,” Jack says. “This is certainly an interesting twist. I figure it’s safe to say we need another plan.”

“And do you have one?” you ask with raised brows, keeping your tone quiet.

The slow, familiar grin spreads to Jack’s lips, the golden teeth peeking out as he glances down at you and proclaims, “Don’t you worry, darling. I always have a plan!”

“Right, because you’re Captain Jack Sparrow,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes.

“Precisely,” he beams.

“But is your plan a good one?” you ask with a smirk.

Jack looks offended. “Ah, you smite me with your words,” he says with a dramatic sigh. “I have nothing but only perfect ideas, luv.”

You bite your lip to keep from snickering, and smile. “But of course,” you reply, and take another look at Delgado and Otis.

…Except they’re not standing in front of the tavern any longer.

“Jack!” you exclaim as you search the pair with your gaze, unconsciously grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your slightly distressed state, pulling it downwards slightly. Jack looks down at you hand gripping his shirt with big grin, before replying.

“If you wanted me to take my shirt of so badly, all you need to do is ask,” he drawls suggestively, and you look at him in puzzlement.

“What?”

Jack glances down at your fisted hand meaningfully, and you follow his gaze. “Oh!” you exclaim, noticing your errand hand. “Sorry,” you say meekly and let go of the clothing, suddenly very aware of Jack’s close proximity.

“Nothing to be sorry about, luv,” Jack smirks, tightening his hold of you ever so slightly. “Quite nice experience, in fact…”

You smirk back, amused at Jack’s flirtatiousness. You’re abruptly struck by the fact that Jack looks absolutely gorgeous; his dark, dreadlocked hair hanging down his shoulders with few errand locks lying over your left palm, the sparse lighting from the torches lit here and there glinting slightly off the beads in his hair. His toned body is pressed against yours so that you can feel him breathing while his strong arms hold you close firmly but gently. And most of all, his amazing brown eyes are boring into yours with such fiery intensity you feel slightly light-headed.

Suddenly, you’re not feeling amused at all.

“You know what?” Jack breaks the silence, his voice low and husky.

“What?” you manage to stutter, your own voice equally hoarse.

Small, seductive smile pulls the corners of his mouth up. “I finally have you all to me onesies, and I’m bloody well going to kiss you right now.”

And so he does. Before you get a chance to do anything but to swallow at his low tone that sends shivers down you back, Jack lowers his head and claims your lips with his own, one hand gliding up your back to the nape of your neck and tangling in your hair as he kisses you with intense passion. You melt against him as he eagerly tastes your lips, your own hands climbing up and looping around his neck while Jack pulls you, if possible, even closer to him. Another shiver runs down your back as you feel Jack’s tongue flick against your lips, making you gasp softly against his lips. This grants Jack access in your mouth, and you let out a small, pleased moan as his tongue duels with yours. Jack’s hand that was resting on your neck slides forward, caressing your jaw and settling on your cheek as he tilts your head gently, deepening the kiss. You play idly with the hairs on his neck, delighted to feel him shiver slightly. Encouraged by his response, you nip at Jack’s lower lip gently and get a tremendous feeling of power as you hear him groan in your mouth. Finally, you start to pull away as the need for oxygen become overpowering, and Jack bestows one final, light kiss on you lower lip before pulling away.

You’re still close enough to feel his breath on your swollen lips as you stare in his darkened eyes, breathing heavily yourself. Your hands are still around his neck, while his other arm is around your middle and the other drawn up, his palm resting on your cheek. Neither of you seem to be willing to move away from the embrace, continuing to gaze in each other eyes in silence while Jack moves his fingers resting on your face, stroking your skin lightly with his fingertips. Oh gods, you think to yourself, still wondering if that really happened. That was even more amazing kiss than the one you shared a year ago.

Finally, Jack speaks up. “Come on, luv,” he says quietly, still gazing at you. “We need to get back before Delgado goes on the warpath,” he continues, reluctantly removing his hand from you face and letting go of your waist as you unwrap your hands from his neck.

“Uh, right,” you manage to say, clearing your throat slightly. Frankly, you had forgotten all about the bloody witch when Jack’s lips touched yours. Jack gives you a smile, and grabs your hand in his.

“Come along, then,” he says, quite cheerfully and nearly drags you along with him, heading back towards the Faithful Bride where the others were waiting.

* * * * *

[AN1] – The love story between Cassandra and Aeneas isn’t true; I’m just using the characters for plot purposes. Cassandra was Priam’s daughter and a prophetess who wasn’t believed, but she wasn’t involved with Aeneas. It’s also true that Aeneas built a fleet after fleeing Troy and sailed around the Mediterranean, ending up in Carthage and having an affair with Queen Dido. But he eventually left her and went to Italy. Everything else is my own making.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 18 - Baths and Bonding

Nerita followed the scene unfolding in front of her eyes with barely contained glee from her place next to a mahogany bureau near the hull, a respectable distance away from the two other persons in the cabin. Ever since Gabriela had strode aboard the Espíritu Maldito only minutes ago with a short, disgusting little man in tow, the crew had placed their bets on whether or not he would leave the ship alive. Nerita, having known Gabriela the longest, had bet heavily on "no".

The grotesque little man glanced around the dim Captain's quarters uneasily. He was almost twitching with nervous energy whereas Gabriela Delgado was the very image of eerie calmness, sitting on her chair with her long legs crossed and her right elbow propped against the armrest. Her fingers were idly playing with the silver band around her middle finger as her grey eyes scrutinized Otis. The boa constrictor that Gabriela kept as a pet was draped over her shoulders, the pale skin of the albino snake creating a sharp contrast against her wavy black locks – it made Gabriela look like some sort of vengeful heathen goddess.

The snake had fixed its pink eyes on Otis, the forked tongue protruding out every once in the while to taste the air. Nerita noticed the snake's interest only made Otis more jumpy, and she grinned in amusement. Gabriela had been correct; this little man indeed was nothing but a waste of space.

"Alright, let us reiterate, shall we?" Gabriela spoke up suddenly, addressing Otis. "You say that you saw Captain Sparrow and his acquaintances in the Faithful Bride tavern, talking to Captain Lucas Fowler?"

"Yea, I saw 'em wit me own eyes!" Otis hurried to assure.

"And, you also said that Sparrow introduced a certain item to Fowler. Now, did you happen to see what it was exactly?" Gabriela asked patiently. "Was it, oh, I don't know… a piece of a map, perhaps?"

Otis thought for a while before nodding eagerly, the fat around his chin wobbling along the movement. "Now tha' ya mention'd, it did look loik tha'."

Gabriela raised an eyebrow. "Are you absolutely sure? You think hard, my little friend..."

Said the spider to the fly, Nerita thought to herself absently as she watched Otis again nod his head frantically.

"Aye, aye, it was a map!"

"I see."

Delgado's tone was calm, but Nerita recognized the subtle, steely edge in it that promised nothing good. Nerita observed her Captain discreetly. Delgado had mastered the art of keeping her face perfectly passive, but her eyes usually betrayed her hidden emotions. Judging from the way they had started to cloud over and darken ominously, Nerita could tell she was furious. Leaning one arm against the bureau casually, Nerita braced herself against the inevitable onslaught of Gabriela's ire.

Gabriela uncrossed her legs slowly, moving with carefully calculated movements. Just as meticulously, she stood in her full height and picked up the snake from her shoulders, setting the being surprisingly gently on the table where the snake coiled around itself unhurriedly. Without a word, Gabriela picked up a wicked looking dagger from the same table and played with the blade, unreadable expression on her face.

"So, Sparrow has the missing half, after all? Even when he claimed never having even seen the entire map," Gabriela spoke, her voice freezing.

Nerita kept quiet and still, being used to the Captain's bouts of wrath. They tended to burn out as quickly as they ignited, and after she'd gotten to vent for a moment she usually composed herself swiftly afterwards. Otis on the other hand seemed twice as uncomfortable as before, sweating like a pig.

Gabriela hissed suddenly, a vehement sound that made Otis take a hasty step away from the angered woman. "That son of a bitch!!" she shouted heatedly, and with a quick movement flung the dagger haphazardly away.

Nerita didn't even have the time to flinch as the said blade embedded itself in the hull of the ship, only a few lucky inches from her head. Calmly, she turned her head marginally and gazed at the dagger that could've hit her neatly in the middle of her forehead if Gabriela's aim had been even the slightest bit inaccurate. The handle of the blade was still swaying back and forth rapidly from the power of the throw. Lifting her arm, Nerita placed her forefinger against the handle and stopped its movement, before curling her palm around it properly and pulling the dagger out of the wood while Gabriela stalked to and fro, fiercely muttering obscenities in Spanish under her breath.

Nerita looked down to hide her sudden smile, picking her fingernails inattentively with the blade; she had the strongest urge to point out that it was actually Gabriela who was the child of a whore, here. But she knew better than to open her mouth now, unless she actually wished to experience what it felt like to have a dagger stuck in her head or other body part. Or have her throat crushed; that was one of Gabriela's favourite methods.

Otis was as pale as a sheet, paralysed in place as he desperately tried to keep himself from trembling while he watched the tall Spaniard stalk around the cabin, muttering to herself. Just as abruptly as she'd lapsed in her bout of fury, she stilled her movements and tilted her head back slightly, gazing at the ceiling for a second. Inhaling, Gabriela lowered her chin and turned to face Otis, once again looking calm and collected.

"Do you happen to like snakes?" She asked Otis in English, throwing the man completely off guard. Nerita stifled her snicker; both at Gabriela's sudden mood swing and at Otis' bewildered expression.

"Eh?" the fat man stuttered.

"Snakes," Gabriela repeated, advancing slowly towards Otis. "Personally, I must say I admire them. They're the most perfect creations of nature, beautiful, magnificent creatures. Especially the constrictors," she went on conversationally as she circled around Otis like a vulture would around a carcass. Otis swallowed nervously, becoming rapidly more and more uneasy.

"Most people think that the constrictors kill their quarry by squeezing them so hard that they break their bones and organs. But no, that's not the truth. Nothing so gory. You see, in reality…" Gabriela trailed off with a smirk, stopping behind Otis and leaning down to whisper in his ear, "They tighten their hold every time the prey breathes in until the prey simply can't draw breath any longer and suffocates."

Quicker than Otis could comprehend, Gabriela threw her right arm over his head and looped it around his throat while placing her left forearm against the back of his neck, squeezing hard. Nerita blinked, caught off guard herself by Gabriela's speedy movements even though she had anticipated them. Otis' eyes widened and bulged out even more than they already did. In panic, he grasped Gabriela's arm with both hands, trying to pry it off while gurgling and gasping.

"You've served your purpose, miserable worm," Gabriela hissed venomously to Otis who tried in vain to free himself from her death grip. The more Otis trashed around, the tighter Gabriela pressed her arms together, eliciting more gurgles from the man who was now red-faced. "I have no need for you any longer. But please, don't take this too personally," Gabriela quipped with grin as she squeezed yet harder.

Nerita watched with morbid fascination as Otis' face turned from red to bluish, and he let out a final gurgling wheeze before his eyes rolled back and his hands slackened their grip of Gabriela's arm. He went completely limp and Gabriela let go of him, scrunching her nose up in disgust as she watched him drop dead on the floorboards. Giving the corpse last withering look, Gabriela stepped over the body and walked back next to the table.

"Nerita?" she said without even bothering to look at the first mate. Knowing what Delgado was asking of her, Nerita set the dagger on the bureau and strode past the corpse, opening the door of the cabin and taking a few steps out to the deck.

"Carmen!" Nerita called as she spotted the quartermaster of the Maldito, beckoning the woman to come closer. The other woman did so, hurrying over.

"What is it?" Carmen asked bluntly in Spanish. She was about two heads taller than Nerita, her dark brown hair was gathered back and plaited in one thick braid that hung down her back. She had strong physique, but she was half blind. Her left eye was light brown, but the right one, which was sightless, lacked nearly all pigment; it was light blue, almost white. Gabriela and Nerita had recruited Carmen from Puerto Rico nearly ten years ago along with many other women, shortly after Gabriela had killed the previous Captain of the Maldito and claimed the Captaincy for herself.

Carmen and Nerita didn't always get along perfectly; Carmen's loud mouth and obnoxious pride was annoying Nerita, whereas Nerita's staidness was incomprehensible to Carmen. But they were always at least somewhat civil to each other, save for some occasional barbs thrown at one another every once in the while. However, both women knew their places; Carmen might have been the quartermaster, but Nerita was the one that the crew strictly answered to after Gabriela. Carmen knew better than to upset Nerita too much, for she could most likely take her out in a fight despite the considerable size difference.

"Help me with this," Nerita ordered, nodding slightly towards the Captain's quarters.

Despite the fact that Nerita was only barely five feet tall and the rest of the women were considerably taller than she was, every single one of the respected Nerita and did exactly as she told them to. Not only because she was the second in command and in good terms with the Captain, but also because she was simply a person nobody wished to upset. She might have been small, but only Gabriela was fiercer than her aboard the Maldito.

Carmen didn't reply verbally, but grinned knowingly. Together the two women walked back in the cabin and started dragging Otis' corpse away as swiftly as possible to keep from disturbing Gabriela, who was calmly sitting by the table again. Gabriela gave the pair a brief, cool glance, before settling her eyes back on the snake.

Nerita and Carmen dragged the body across the deck, over the starboard side of the ship. Together, they unceremoniously heaved him over the railing, watching as his body hit the water with a mighty splash.

"Looks like you won the bet, then," Carmen said out loud scornfully, glancing at Nerita.

Nerita allowed herself a brief grin, thinking about the amount of money that would be hers. "Yes," she replied shortly.

Carmen rolled her eyes in fed up manner. "You're always the talkative one…" she muttered, turning around and leaning against the railing of the ship. "Oh, there she is again, lurking around like a scaredy mouse…!" she suddenly spat distastefully, a frown on her face.

Nerita raised a brow, following Carmen's gaze. Nerita's eyes fell on Gemma, one of the most recent recruits from about a year ago. She was not exactly fit for the life of a pirate; she detested conflicts, and wasn't much of a sailor, either. On top of everything, she was English. That's why most of the crewmembers didn't like her; Carmen especially seemed to hate her, bullying her around frequently. It was funny, really; Gabriela hated the English, but she'd made an exception with Gemma. Nerita thought Gabriela had taken her aboard just for her own amusement, to follow Gemma's discomfiture among the Spaniards. That wouldn't be past the Captain who was quite the sadistic.

Gemma had curly, light brown hair, and big blue eyes. She was a quite jumpy, and seemed fragile somehow. And she wasn't all that tall, either, maybe a head taller than Nerita was. Nerita suddenly felt a small swell of pity towards the woman stuck onboard with people who didn't really appreciate her.

"I don't understand why the Captain keeps her around, anyway," Carmen went on with her griping, staring to grate on Nerita's nerves.

Nerita felt oddly compelled to stick up for Gemma a bit. "She works hard enough and keeps her mouth shut about it."

Carmen raised her brow, turning around to fully face Nerita so she could see her with her good eye. "Are you actually defending her?!"

Having had enough of Carmen and her complaints about Gemma, Nerita gave the taller woman a glare. "You could follow her example. Has that broken shroud been mended yet? What about the torn main topsail?"

Carmen blinked, taken aback. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, obviously trying to work up some excuse. "Ah… no. Not yet. I'll see to them now," she mumbled finally, embarrassed to be caught. Without another word, she turned on her heels and walked away.

Nerita shook her head tiredly. The sad truth was that the Maldito had seen better days; there was always something that needed to be fixed or worked on. Throwing one last glance at poor Gemma, who'd obviously been given the task of sewing of the torn sail, Nerita made her way back inside the Captain's quarters and shut the door behind her.

Gabriela was still sitting in the same position as before, glancing up from the snake as Nerita entered. "So, Sparrow has the missing piece," she said as Nerita stopped her steps and crossed her arms over her chest. "I knew the piece was close, but to think it might have been in Sparrow's pocket when I talked to him this morning…" Gabriela trailed off and clenched one hand into a fist, trying to calm her temper.

Nerita observed the Captain for a moment before speaking up. "Well, at least now we know for certain where the piece is."

Gabriela smiled wryly. "True… if our little friend was speaking the truth. Do you think I was a bit too hasty with him?"

Nerita knew from experience that there was only one acceptable answer for such question. "No."

Leaning back in her chair, Gabriela crossed her legs again. "That's what I thought, too. But, onto more important matters. Otis said that Sparrow and his friends were staying at the Faithful Bride. It's safe to say they're still there."

"Are we going to go and get the piece, then?" Nerita asked, anticipation evident in her tone.

Gabriela smirked, glancing at her first mate. "Yes indeed, Nerita. We are going to get the piece, and soon."

Suddenly, the door to the cabin was thrown open and Carmen barged in. "Captain! It's the Black Pearl! They're gone!"

Gabriela's grey eyes flashed dangerously, and in a moment she was standing, towering over the shorter quartermaster. "What do you mean, gone?" she demanded, and Carmen winced slightly.

"As in they've left the port… the ship is gone. We only noticed it a moment ago…"

Gabriela stared down at Carmen, her posture showing signs of fury again. "Are you meaning to tell me…" she started slowly in icy tone, the volume rising with each word. "That you incompetents actually missed the departure of the most recognizable ship in the Caribbean?! I thought you were only HALF blind!!"

Carmen gulped nervously, truly fearing for her life. Gabriela Delgado did not tolerate mistakes of any kind. Seething with anger, Gabriela raised her hand and struck Carmen hard across her face, causing her to fall down on the floor. With last withering look at Carmen, Delgado strode out of the cabin.

Carmen stayed still, holding her trembling palm over the abused side of her face, her breath coming out in short, shocked gasps. Nerita stared down at her unsympathetically, feeling malicious pleasure of seeing proud Carmen in such state. Shaking her head slowly, she tsked.

"My, my, Carmen. You're damn lucky she allowed you to keep your remaining eye," she smirked before walking out after Delgado.

* * *

The pale moon was shining brightly on the sky, the silver glow it cast on the ground being the only illumination in the darkness of the night as Fowler, Will, Elizabeth, you and Jack made your way through the jungle-like forest, the distance between your little group and the ever-lively town of Tortuga growing with each passing minute.

When Jack and you returned to the Bride earlier, Jack did, true to his word, have a plan ready on how to proceed next. He'd sent Anamaria and Gibbs back to the Pearl, telling them to set sail. The meaning was to trick Delgado into believing you'd already left Tortuga with the map she wanted so badly. This would (hopefully) throw Delgado off the track and buy you more time. Lucas Fowler had suggested that they sail the Pearl around the island of Tortuga, and hide the ship in one of the coves over there. Fowler lived with his wife, Nora, on the other side of the island, in a secluded cottage by the coast. It would take about an hour or so to walk there through the forest, and Fowler had insisted that you'd stay with him and his wife for a day or two and think about the next move. After this was decided, Gibbs and Anamaria had left, and you'd given Lucky to Ana for care taking, not wanting to take the pup with you since you had a long walk up to the cottage ahead of you. Ana and Gibbs would meet you later up on the cottage, anyway, so you'd be reunited with Lucky soon enough.

Commodore Norrington had been slightly cross that he hadn't been informed that Gabriela Delgado was in Tortuga earlier, demanding Jack to explain why he hadn't let anyone know about the matter. He was correct; only you and Jack knew that Delgado was in Tortuga, after the meeting in the morning. As usual, Jack hadn't been fazed in the slightest by the Commodore's semi-accusation, but calmly explained that he'd wanted to wait and see what Delgado would do next, and reminded the Commodore that no matter how badly Norrington wanted Delgado to be caught, he couldn't really officially seize her outside the British territorial waters. You paid attention to the fact that Jack didn't mention the deal Gabriela had suggested to him even with a word, but you decided to keep quiet about it. It wasn't really important since Jack wasn't about to take her up on the offer anyway.

Norrington had, albeit somewhat grudgingly, concurred with Jack's point and taken his leave, intending to return to Port Royal, deeming staying any longer in Tortuga fruitless. The rest of you would have to go back there soon as well; it was only three days to Will and Elizabeth's wedding, and understandably they wished to attend to the said event. Besides, Jack loved weddings (and free drinks) very dearly, which he reminded Elizabeth of as she had in turn reminded him about the wedding. No, if it were up to Jack Sparrow, there would be no way anybody would miss the particular occasion.

You'd already walked for a good half and hour, and you briefly wonder how did Lucas know where to go in this blasted darkness. But suppose he knew his way around this area well, having lived there for several years already. Otherwise you'd probably end up seriously lost. Fowler was leading, with Elizabeth close on his heels, talking to him. They were probably swapping stories; earlier in the tavern Elizabeth had been fascinated by all the pirate stories and tales the old man knew, and was eager to hear them. Will hovered close by Elizabeth, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts but still keeping an eye on her, as if worried she might disappear or get lost if he didn't. You were trailing a few steps behind Will, while Jack brought up the rear.

And speaking of rears… you had the funniest feeling that Jack frequently kept looking at yours. It was somewhat annoying.

"Do you think you could possibly stop staring at my ass?" you ask with a look over your shoulder, catching Jack quickly darting his eyes from your tush up to your face.

"What ever do you mean? I was just marvellin' at this lovely scenery," he replies, the shrewd grin spreading on his lips not quite matching with his innocent tone.

"Scenery, huh?" you repeat doubtfully. "What exactly is so lovely in a near pitch-black forest?"

"Well," Jack starts at length. "There are… trees…"

You bite your lip to keep from chuckling. "Trees?"

"Mhmm, and then there are certain… mounds and hills I find very fascinatin', you know," he goes on in suggestive tone, and you can feel his eyes on your arse again. Mounds, right.

You sigh audibly, shaking your head. You're sure "Jack Sparrow" was a synonym for "Sexual innuendo". Among other things you thought wiser not to dwell on at the precise moment…

"Hey, can ye blame a man for admiring such lovely female… assets when presented one?"

"Well, if my arse presents such a distraction, we'd probably better switch places," you say with a smirk and stop, waiting for Jack to walk past you in order to trade places.

But he doesn't. Instead, he grins and extends his left arm, deftly wrapping it around your waist as he passes and pulling you with him without even once halting his steps. You let out a muted yelp as you nearly trip, caught off guard by his stunt. Quickly regaining your balance, you find yourself walking alongside Jack with your sides touching and his arm flung over your back, his warm hand resting comfortably over your left hip. You find that the feeling is not unpleasant at all.

"I'm afraid that just won't do," Jack says with a smile, replying to your previous sentence. "You could get lost or something, and we can't have none of that."

"Oh yes, because I'd surely get the impulse to jump off this trail and get myself lost if I'd be the last one in the line. I'm so darn happy you're here to keep me from doing that," you say dryly while rolling your eyes.

"I'm so glad that you see my point, luv!" Jack replies delightedly, deliberately ignoring your sarcasm and patting your hip a few times with his palm.

You smile to yourself, unable to be annoyed with him. Besides, this wasn't exactly the worst place to be… you suddenly notice that Jack's behaviour towards you has changed a bit after the kiss, that amazing kiss that sent shivers down your back just thinking about it; he was touching you more openly, even in front of others. You recall the way he took your hand in his right after the kiss, not letting go of you until you reached the Bride again. And when you left the said tavern again, Jack had laid his hand on your lower back while steering you out, something he'd never done before. And now this; almost casual embrace, as if you were long-time lovers or something instead of friends.

This made you think. What exactly were you and Jack now? Surely, you were still best friends, but did best friends kiss each other passionately like that? No, not usually. But still, you weren't lovers either. The thought almost made you blush. It wasn't as if you hadn't thought about it, what it would be like to lie in his arms, skin against skin, whispering sweet nothings to each other and feel his questing lips and hands slowly roam all over your body, teasing you and making you arch into his touch… you hastily break that train of thought before you would truly blush. Oh yeah, you had thought about it all right, and had some quite vivid dreams, too.

Again your logical mind came into play, starting mull over the facts and creating endless strings of questions in which you craved answers to. Where was this leading, or was it leading anywhere? Were you just fooling around, caught in the moment? No, you didn't really believe that; at least you hoped that was not the case. Anamaria's opinion suddenly came back to you, that you should go with the flow sometimes and stop analysing everything so much. Sneaking a glance at Jack, you make up your mind and determinately push out the questions plaguing your mind. For the time being, you would do exactly what Anamaria suggested; you'd just go with the flow and see where it took you. Insecurities and second guesses would surely get you nowhere, that much was certain. After all, if you're not willing to play, there'll be no hope of winning, is there?

"Say, Jack…" you start, suddenly remembering something that you'd been itching to ask him ever since Fowler's introduction.

"What is it?" Jack asks warily, recognizing the telltale edge of unyielding inquisitiveness in your tone. Along the year, Jack had gotten very familiar with the slight changes in your voice and what they usually meant. That precise tone told Jack you were going ask him something he didn't necessarily wish to answer, and also that you'd pester him about it until he'd tell you the truth.

"I figure 'Sparrow' isn't your real last name since both your father and uncle are Fowlers, which would make it your last name as well, correct?" you state, tilting your head a little and looking at him.

"Aye, you'd be right about that," Jack agrees with a nod, but keeps his eyes ahead.

Jack Fowler, you think. Captain Jack Fowler. Nice, but not as nice as Sparrow, quite frankly… "Is Jack your real first name?" you ask, figuring he could've changed that as well with the last name.

Now Jack does glance at you briefly, looking mildly amused. "It's as real as any name, luv."

"But is it the name your parents gave you?" you persist, noticing how he skilfully avoided answering in the actual question.

"Does it matter?"

"Aye," you say simply.

"Why's that?" he asks in turn, sounding amused by your relentlessness.

"Quit answering my questions with more questions. Is it?"

"Is what?"

"Jack…!" you growl warningly.

"What's in the name, anyway? Jack is me real name now, and that's the end of it," Jack says in exasperation, waving his free hand flamboyantly in the air for emphasis.

"Aha! You said 'now', so you admit it isn't your real name. Hey, that's good enough for me, really," you assure hurriedly after seeing Jack's wry look.

Jack exhales through his nose softly, shaking his head a little so that the strings of beads in his hair jingle gently at the movement. Lowering his head a bit towards yours, he pulls you closer to his side slightly as you keep trailing after Fowler, Elizabeth and Will in the dark forest.

"I can think of a few other things to do with that sweet mouth of yours than talkin', luv…" he murmurs seductively in your ear, his hot breath against your sensitive skin sending small shockwaves through your system.

"I'm sure you could," you reply, and to your credit your voice is only a tad bit breathless. "If you're trying to distract me from asking any more questions…" you stop abruptly as Jack places a light kiss on your earlobe, making you inhale sharply. …It's working! You finish your sentence in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? You can't believe the affect Jack has on you. And all he did was kissed your ear, for pity's sake…

"Now, why would I do something like that?" Jack grins as he pulls away, clearly smug over your reaction to the light peck.

Oh, what a low move! Didn't Jack know that payback is a bitch? Smirking, you speak up. "So, was your real first name really bloody awful, like Winfred or something? Is that why you changed it?" you smile sweetly. "Whelp?"

You can feel Jack's spine stiffen as he gives you a warning glare. "I never, ever want to hear that word again, savvy?"

You just smile, not intimidated in the least. "I savvy, but only if you tell me that name."

"No!"

"C'mon," you say, pleading. "It honestly can't be that bad."

"Be that as it may, you're not hearin' it from me," Jack replies. "And I'm orderin' you to drop it as your Captain, and don't even think of going against me word again."

"Oh, fine," you sigh. "You're no fun."

"Au contraire, luv, I'm lots and lots of fun," Jack grins suggestively. "Want me to show you?" (On the contrary)

You chuckle at Jack's typical, sudden mood change, only then realizing what he said. "Hey, I didn't know you could speak French."

"My ma was French, so I had to learn some as a kid," Jack says casually as you keep on walking, and you look at him in wonder. Did he really just give away a piece of his past voluntarily, just like that?

"Tell me more about your mother…?" you ask softly, interested to learn more but not really expecting Jack to tell you.

Jack is quiet for a moment, thinking about your request. He hasn't let go of you even for a moment during your bantering, and his fingers are idly drawing circles on your hip, making your skin tingle pleasantly beneath the fabric.

"Well, there's not that much to tell. She worked as a maid in a big mansion in London before I was born, and met my dad along the way somewhere. Dad of course fancied beautiful women as much as the next man. Well, maybe a bit more, actually," Jack smirks, and you roll your eyes slightly. Like father, like son, apparently.

"You can probably guess the rest, as I'm sure I don't have to explain where babies come from, do I?" Jack grins, and goes on at your wry look. "Well, there ma was, pregnant and out of wedlock no less. Bad situation for any woman I suppose, but it's especially bad for a maid working for a prestigious family. Still, she was in luck. She'd made friends with the daughter of the family, and they didn't throw ma out on the streets like most would've done. So, she was allowed to stay and work, and then I was born," Jack shrugs a bit.

You think about Jack's story for a minute. "What about your father? Did he have any part in this…?"

"I'd say he played a key role, considering that he did knock ma up," Jack cracks with a smirk and you elbow him lightly on his side. "Alright, no need to get violent, luv! Aye, da was around… he used to drop by the mansion every now and then, in secret of course. When I was old enough to walk and talk he'd take me with him to the town or somewhere, just to spend time with him. And when I grew up a bit more, he taught me all the tricks of the trade although he knew ma would clout him for that if she'd find out. She did eventually," Jack grins at the memory, and you smile, having no difficulties in picturing Jack's father teaching his son how to pick pockets and things like that.

"He and ma had this odd love-hate relationship. They always, always, bickered when they saw each other, especially when da came to pick me up, but still… the way dad looked at ma was different than the way he looked at other women, despite the fact that he always went on and on about not fallin' in love. But I have a feeling his head was saying one thing and his heart another. And ma with all her griping only proved me point that she cared about da more than she admitted aloud. Sad, really," Jack says quietly.

You smile sadly, thinking the same. "What was her name?"

Jack smiles faintly. "Syrea. Syrea de Vant."

"That's a beautiful name," you say quietly. "What happened to her after you came here?"

Jack shakes his head, his grip of your hip tightening slightly at the memory. "She died a year before that. She caught a flu and had a fever a bit too high…"

"I'm sorry," you murmur sympathetically.

"Don't be," Jack smiles slightly, rubbing your hip a bit. "That was a long time ago. Anyhow, after ma passed away, da wrote to Lucas who'd been a pirate in the Caribbean for years already. Da asked if Lucas would take me aboard his ship, even for a while. That was very unselfish of him. See luv, I've always loved the sea and ships. Ever since I was a kid, I honestly do not know where it all came from. Da never could understand my interests, but he did respect them. He was the biggest landlubber of them all," Jack smiles.

"Nevertheless, by the time I was nearly twelve, he'd managed to arrange my trip to the Caribbean. I don't remember much of that, really, but suddenly I was here. There were no more cobblestone streets and rain, just white sand and sunshine, wide, blue waters… and marvellous ships. I'd never seen anything more beautiful than the Black Pearl as she floated over the waves, the ebony hull surrounded by cerulean water, black sails full in the wind…" Jack trails off reverently with a far-off look in his dark eyes.

He was still holding his free hand in air where it had been drawing vague shapes during his description. Again, you're struck with a reminder of how much he truly loves his ship. The Pearl was everything to him.

Dropping his hand, Jack blinks. "It was the most perfectly named ship I'd ever seen. And still is. I must say I couldn't quite guess then that someday I would be calling her my ship," Jack smiles, his fingers again starting to trace shapes on your hip absently.

You smile, grateful that Jack felt comfortable enough with you to tell you all those things about his childhood. Somehow, you now a have bit better understanding of the unique, complex persona that Jack was. There would always be a part of him that you or anybody else could never fully decipher, that much you knew for certain. But that didn't bother you in the least; it actually made you appreciate Jack even more.

"Save for Lucas, you're the only one I've told this much, luv. I hope you appreciate it," Jack says lightly with a smirk.

"Thank you for telling," you say sincerely and Jack chuckles slightly, squeezing your hip a little.

A comfortable silence ensues and you look over at the others, noticing that you and Jack have lagged behind during your talk at least a good fifteen feet. Fowler, Elizabeth and Will haven't paid any attention to you and Jack, and you feel somewhat thankful for that. You're not quite sure how to explain this newfound closeness between you and Jack. Although, you're pretty sure Anamaria had her suspicions. She had given you and Jack some funny looks when you got back, as if she knew you'd been smooching fervently only minutes ago. And you hadn't missed her raised eyebrows at Jack's gesture when you again left the tavern. Oh, she'd be so darn gleeful and smug when she found out…

"What about you, luv? What was your father like?" Jack suddenly asks softly, breaking the silence.

The question brings up many memories or your father and the beautiful White Wraith, both happy and sad. But to your contentment, you find you have more happy memories along your years with your father than sad ones. With a faint smile, you speak up.

"He was… tall," you say with a small laugh. That was the first thing that always came to your mind when you thought about your father, Bloodshot Pete. "He was very tall, well over six feet. Broad shouldered and heavily built, that's why most people were quite intimidated by him if they didn't already know him. But despite his appearance, he was very kind and friendly, unless you were on his bad side. Then he really could be very intimidating. He was a wonderful father, very patient. Though he did often get frustrated with my stubbornness. And when I was younger and doing things I shouldn't have done, he used to bellow so loudly I swear the whole ship trembled," you grin at the memory. "But he was never angry with me for too long. And I learned quickly that I should behave myself, after having my hide thrown overboard a one time too many."

"Thrown overboard?" Jack repeats questioningly with a raised brow.

"Oh, yeah. That's what Pete used to do to punish me. He'd grab me by the waist with one arm and flung me over the railing. Needless to say I learned to swim very early on in my life. He'd haul me back onboard when I'd apologized and promised never to do whatever it was I'd been doing again."

Jack lets out a low whistle. "I need to remember that one," he mutters to himself. "So what did you do to get disciplined like that?"

You shrug slightly. "Little things, really. Hid things that were needed the most, loosened the ties of the hammocks, soaped the door latches, put gunpowder in the stew, water in the rum, so on and so on… I was a horrible prankster as a kid. But as I said, I learned very quickly not to be one."

"I'd throw you overboard too if you'd mess with me rum," Jack says seriously, and you grin mischievously.

"Now, would you really?" you ask, never losing your grin.

"Don't even think about it! My rum is sacred!"

"Yes, I think everyone is aware of that by now, Jack," you say dryly with a small smile. "Anyway, all in all, Pete was a wonderful father even though he had to raise me by himself since mom died in the labour," you go on quietly. "I once overheard him telling Shadrach, one of his best friends aboard, that he was worried what I would become like with no mother… well, I was a bit tomboyish, but I think I turned out alright," you smirk.

Jack smiles, tightening his hold of you and pulling you a bit closer. "More than alright, luv," he says in deep voice, meeting your eyes with his.

You smile back faintly, distracted by Jack's gorgeous eyes gazing down at you to fully concentrate on smiling. "More than alright, huh?" you ask in hushed tone.

"Most definitely more than alright," Jack replies huskily, his gaze sliding down to your lips.

"Oh. That's… nice," you stutter, slightly flustered by Jack's interest.

"Very nice indeed," Jack agrees, but you get the feeling he's rather meaning your lips than the original topic.

Fowler's somewhat distant cry makes you jump a bit and breaks the moment efficiently. "Haul arse you two, we're almost there!!"

Jack pulls away from you, sighing softly. "Well, ye heard the man," he smirks, patting your hip with his palm again a few times, but not letting go. "Pick up your feet."

* * *

You stare at Fowler's cottage in awe, feeling Will and Elizabeth regard the building with similar air about them. It's absolutely beautiful, even in the moonlight. It has maybe two floors, white walls and verandas circling the small house. Yellow candlelight is pouring out from some of the windows, softly illuminating the screens. Lush greenery is growing around the house, sheltering it; different trees and palms, taller and smaller bushes. You're sure it looks more fantastic in the daylight.

"Do come inside, Nora will be thrilled to have some guests. And to see ye again, Jack," Fowler says with a smile, starting to make his way towards the stairs leading to the porch. Jack, you, Will and Elizabeth follow him in silence, stepping inside after him.

"Darling, I'm back, an' I brought visitors with me!" Fowler yells while discarding his long coat and carelessly throwing it over a chair that even though there is a coat rack nearby.

An older woman with brown hair gathered into a bun walks in the hallway from the adjoining room, a broad smile appearing on her face as he seems Jack, her blue eyes sparkling. She's about a head shorter than Elizabeth, and a tiny bit on the round side.

"Look what I found, deary," Fowler grins, pointing his thumb at Jack.

Jack smiles broadly at the woman. "'Ello again, Nora."

"Oh my goodness!" Nora cries happily, rushing over and hugging Jack fiercely. "John! I'm so happy to see you, boy!"

John? You raise your brows, glancing at Jack inquiringly. John Fowler was his name before Jack Sparrow? Jack, however, doesn't notice your look, since he seems to be having slight problems with breathing properly in Nora's tight embrace. Will and Elizabeth grin at the scene, amused.

"'S good to see you too," Jack manages to say as Nora pulls away. "And it's Jack."

Nora shakes her head with slight frown marring her pretty face. "Aw, I'll never understand you, boy! Ye had such a handsome name and ye had to go and change it!" she tsks, giving Jack a quick once over. "Yer much too thin. Haven't you been eating properly? 'Ell, I'll have to change that. Oh, but do introduce me to your friends!" Nora changes the subject suddenly, looking kindly at you, Will and Elizabeth.

Fowler shakes his head slightly but smiles, obviously familiar with his wife's antics. Jack introduces Will, Elizabeth and you to Nora, who's kind smile never once falters.

"Your all very welcomed," she says. "Oh, but you must be hungry! Mrs Potters and me will whip something up in no time, make yourselves right at home," she gushes.

You realize that you're indeed hungry, but even more than that you'd love a bath. It's been days since you've last had the chance to wash, and frankly you feel dirty. You discreetly touch your hair, cringing slightly at the greasy feel. Yuck.

"Sweetie, you look like ye could use a bath," Nora suddenly says as she stops you from following the others that Fowler is herding towards the living room. Was this lady a mind reader? Nah, she probably just used her eyes. Anyway, you already liked this woman.

"Yes, in fact that's exactly what I could use, badly," you say, looking down at yourself sheepishly.

Nora smiles. "Don't worry, dear. I have just the thing for ye!"

* * *

"Wow," you whisper to yourself, taking in the sight.

Nora had promptly given you a thick towel, a bathrobe, a washing cloth and some soap, and taken you out to the yard behind the cottage. There she told you to follow the narrow path that led through the garden-like area and disappeared into the forest. You had done so, and trailed down the sandy path. The place where it led you was amazing; it was a small, bath-like pond filled with clear water, the moonlight making the surface glow. Thick shrubs and other greenery littered the ground around it, and a big tree with branches hanging low stood next to the left end of the pond.

Walking closer, you kneeled down next to the water and dipped your hand in; the water was warm, surprisingly warm. With a smile, you got up and traipsed next to the tree, draping the towel and the robe over one branch. Discarding your boots, you glanced around out of habit before unbuckling your belt and shimmying out of your pants, landing them on a heap on the ground. You did the same to your long sleeved shirt and the smaller black shirt underneath, before taking off your underpants and kicking your dirty clothes in a neat pile underneath the tree. Nora had insisted to wash them when you got back, and you didn't object. Grabbing the cloth and the soap, you carefully lowered yourself in the water, sighing in pleasure as the water soothed your tired muscles.

You set the cloth and the soap on the bank, before wading yet a step or two deeper in the water. With your feet on the bottom, the water level only barely covered your breasts, but you didn't really care; there was nobody around to see, anyway. The bottom of the pond was sandy, much to your surprise. You glance around while idly waving your arms slightly, letting the water float them. The pond really wasn't all that big, maybe around twenty feet in diameter. It was more like a spring, really.

Taking a breath, you dip your head below the surface to wet your hair, pushing few errand locks off your face as you surfaced. You then wade back to the bank for the soap and the cloth, letting the cloth float on the surface of the water as you rub some soap on your hand and slant it on your hair, lathering. You repeat the process a few times until your hair is filled with white lather, and soap the washing cloth as well. Setting the soap back on the edge of the pond, you run the cloth down your arms, up your neck, over your chest and shoulders, scrubbing off the dirt and sweat. You were already feeling a lot better. You scrub your stomach and things, bending down in the water slightly to reach your legs. Satisfied, you let go or the cloth and bend your knees so that your head submerges again, and you hurriedly rinse off the soap while holding your breath.

Emerging from the water, you take a deep breath and run a hand over your face, pushing your hair back while keeping your eyes shut.

"So, this is how water nymphs look like… very divine," a low, slightly amused voice suddenly drawls, and you snap your eyes open.

You let out a scream and sink back in the water up to your chin and glare up at Jack, who's standing next to the pond with a broad grin on his lips as he gazes down at you. It's dark and you're almost sure he can't see anything below the surface, but out of instinct you cross your arms over your breasts.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" you demand crossly. "How long have you been there?"

"Oh, not too long, much to my utter disappointment," Jack replies.

"Yes, what a darn shame," you say sarcastically, wondering if you unwittingly flashed him your goods. "What are you doing here?"

Jack's grin broadens. "Admiring the scenery, of course!"

"Oh, really?" you say wryly.

"Aye. And I figured a bath would do no harm, either…"

"Whoa, what?!" you nearly squeak. Did he really just say…? Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Jack's belt hitting the ground, and you look up to see him unwrapping the long sash around his waist. You notice for the first time that he's not wearing his coat of his effects. You follow his actions mutely, too stunned to speak. As he discards the blue vest and takes off his brown boots, you finally gain control of your wits.

"Wait a minute, you're- you're going to be… naked? In here?" you nearly smack yourself for stammering, but the idea of Jack butt naked in the spring with you, who also happen to be naked too, is just… way too much to handle.

Jack grins at your obvious shock. "That's the general idea in baths, luv," he winks, tugging the hem of his white shirt. "I already saw that you're at least half naked in there, so I'm sure you can't be a total stranger to the concept," he says impishly.

"You did…?" you repeat, mortified. Yes, you apparently did flash your assets at him.

Jack pulls the shirt over his head, throwing it carelessly on the ground. Oh, freaking hell. Your stomach does little flip-flops at the sight; he's standing the like some kind of God, his bare chest toned and firm, the moonlight casting a pale glow on him… oh hell, you were in trouble!

"Oh yes," Jack smiles, his eyes darting down where your chest is hidden beneath the water. "I did indeed. Quite lovely, darling. You honestly shouldn't hide them, there's no shame in flaunting pretty goods such as yours were..." he trails off slyly.

You blush, hoping he can't see it in the dark. "I wasn't flaunting anything, you– hell," you whisper the last word, seeing that he's starting to take his pants off. The thought makes heat rush on your cheeks, and the water seems suddenly a bit too warm. Quickly, you dip your head under the surface again, hoping to calm down a bit. After a moment you exhale through your nose and emerge again, careful to keep your knees bet slightly as not to "flaunt" again. Wiping your face with your hand, you open your eyes and see that Jack is now in the water as well, only a few feet away from you. And that he's staring down at your chest, squinting slightly in hopes to see something in the darkness.

You huff in annoyance. "Are you purposefully trying to catch a glimpse of my boobs?"

Jack looks at you in the eyes, small grin lifting the corners of his lips. "Ah, yes?"

You roll your eyes in exasperation. Men and their fascination with breasts, seriously… apparently it lasted from the cradle to the grave.

"I'd have to be dead not to, luv," Jack drawls in low tone that's sends a shiver down your spine, taking a step closer to you. "See darling, to a man, there is nothing more exquisite in the entire world than a naked woman," he says huskily, his eyes lingering on your chest where the water is lapping slightly below your collarbones. His gaze slides up to your shoulders, before travelling languorously up your neck, to your face and hair. "Well, except a naked, wet woman," he corrects with a small smile.

You swallow slightly as he scrutinizes you, his heated gaze following the small droplets of water that slide down your skin from your damp hair. Your own eyes are pulled down as well, and your gaze slides over his broad shoulders and dip lower to glide across the planes of his chest, lingering on the two round scars above his left breast. You get the strongest urge to trace your fingers over them, maybe place a light kisses over the discolorations… Your breath catches in your throat as he leans his head closer to you, torturously slowly. The familiar grin pulls his lips again as he looks at you straight in the eyes, his irises black in the darkness of the night.

"Would you mind handing me that cloth, or must I get it myself?"

You blink, the haziness lifting from your mind a bit. "Cloth. Yeah. Sure," you say, breaking eye contact and grabbing the cloth that had been floating somewhere behind your back.

Jack takes it from your grasp. "My thanks, luv."

"You're welcome," you say with a quick smile, and bite your bottom lip lightly as he starts to lackadaisically run the sodden cloth over his arms, his muscles rippling beneath the skin as he flexes them. Water from the cloth runs down his skin, and the moonlight paints his wet skin silver.

Oh, blasted, bleeding hell. You were not going to make it through this night alive.

* * * * *

Author's Note – The next chapter will be rated R for sexual content (there'll be a few more of those in the future), but the general rating of the story will remain PG-13! You can however safely skip the R-rated chapters and still keep up with the plot; they contain nothing but, well, sex. ;)

* * * * *

CHAPTER 19 - The Unforgettable Fire (Rated R!)

Poetry in motion.

You'd never really understood the meaning of that phrase, or poetry in general, being the "uncivilized" pirate that you are. But the concept of "poetry" you'd always associated with something beautiful and wondrous, even though you had never seen anything alike that the particular phrase would fit to describe. But now, the very essence of "poetry in motion" stood in front of you, up to his chest in the water. You're mesmerized by the play of Jack's muscles beneath his skin as he flexes his arms, the pale moonlight casting silver flecks over the rippling water as the still surface breaks from your slight movements.

Countless stars were shining overhead, glittering amidst the inky blueness of the sky. Some birds were chirping around you in the dark forest, and from the distance you could hear the faint rumble of waves rushing against the coasts, lapping the shorelines. The place was absolutely beautiful, but more so was the man in the pond with you.

Jack is seemingly oblivious to your observing him, concentrating on scrubbing his arms and shoulders, passing the cloth over his chest. The small droplets running down his skin captivate your interest, especially the one that's sliding down from the hollow of his throat and down his flat chest; you mentally imagine following the same trail with your tongue. The situation is causing those strong emotions you've kept bottled up to surface again, but strangely you feel no trace of trepidation over them this time. The only thing you're aware of is that you and Jack are both naked as the day you were born and all alone in this little hideaway. As you keep on discreetly watching Jack, your earlier nervousness slowly melts away.

"I think I'm not the only one enjoying the view here, luv," Jack suddenly speaks up, and you meet his mischievous eyes. "Am I?"

You raise your brows slightly, and smirk. "Maybe… maybe not…"

"Really?" Jack says slowly with an impish look, keeping his eyes on you as he again drags the cloth over his chest. Your eyes are instantly drawn to the expanse of smooth skin, appreciating the way the water glistens on it temptingly. Jack grins victoriously at your reaction, and raises his eyebrow in question.

"Alright," you admit with small smile. "I admit that you're very easy on the eyes, Jack."

"Easy on the eyes, eh?" Jack smirks, gazing somewhere around the waterline lapping at your chest. "Well, you're not at all bad to look at, either…"

"Oh, thanks," you say wryly, but smile anyway.

"Here. Make yourself useful," Jack grins, tossing the wet cloth to you. You catch it with one hand, arching a brow in question.

"Wash my back, luv," Jack clarifies, the smug grin still on his lips as he turns his back to you, the water sloshing gently around him. "Come come, now," he coaxes, and you swallow slightly while gazing at his back, following the outlines of the finely defined muscles with your eyes.

Drawing a breath to steady yourself, you take a step closer to Jack, your greedy eyes still lingering over the tanned skin of his back. You’re standing behind him, not even an arms length away; close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. You exhale quietly, wondering how you’re going to survive this. All the urges and wants you’ve kept closely bottled up inside you for several months are threatening to surface and take over you, and you’re startled to realize that you wouldn’t necessarily mind if they did. In fact, the prospect was making you feel strangely excited. Oh gods, you think to yourself feebly. You couldn’t believe the affect this man was having on you.

“Go on, I won’t bite you,” Jack drawls, turning his head to the side so that you can see his grin. “Unless you want me to, of course…”

Rolling your eyes, you reach out with your left hand and push some of the errand dreadlocks and strands of hair lying over his back to drape over his shoulders. You suddenly notice a thin, white line running down his right shoulder blade and impulsively run your finger down the four-inch scar, frowning as you wonder where he got it. You feel Jack’s muscle twitch faintly under your slight touch, and the reaction makes you smile.

“Got that one in a brawl maybe thirteen years back. The bloody coward struck me with his blade when the whole thing had in actuality been already settled,” Jack speaks softly, as if reading your thoughts.

You nod in response even though Jack can’t see it. You have your own scars, as well. Mostly they are quite small, but you also had two larger ones; one trailed over your abdomen, and the other ran down the outer side of your right thigh. They were both permanent reminders of nasty incidents you’d rather forget for good. Remembering your task, you tentatively place the fingertips of your left hand on his left shoulder, somewhat hesitant to touch him; if only his close proximity already makes you feel warm and shaky, what more would actually touching him do?

Just as you’re about to press the cloth on his back, Jack places his hand over your left one, pressing your entire palm flat over his shoulder instead of just the fingers. You draw in a breath at the feel of the warm, soft skin and toned muscle beneath your hand, wondering how such a simple touch is nearly enough to make you shiver. Swallowing soundlessly, you press the cloth on his back and start to gently rub it over the planes of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin even through the wet cloth. Moving the soft rag in small circles over his shoulders and trailing languorously lower, you spread your fingers a bit wider apart to hold onto his shoulder better.

The musky, masculine scent of Jack is making you light-headed, and you can smell a bit of rum and salt water on him, too. It’s making you want to step even closer, to feel his body against yours as you lean down to nuzzle his neck and kiss his skin to find out if he tastes as good as he smells… The wanton thought makes you blush and draw in a breath, and you desperately try to calm yourself down. Try as you might, you find it’s getting increasingly harder and harder to deny the unbelievable attraction you’re feeling towards Jack. His closeness is lighting a burning fire inside you that refuses to be quelled until fully satisfied. Struggling to banish your lustful thoughts, you keep rubbing Jack’s back with the cloth and unconsciously slide your hand that’s been resting on his shoulder a bit lower, loving the feel of smooth skin and solid muscle under your sensitive palm.

Jack closed his eyes as you slid your hand lower, the unconscious caress making his heart skip a beat. He was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea, after all; this was slowly turning out to be purely torturous for him. Jack was painfully aware that you were standing so close behind him, gloriously naked. It was killing him to stay still instead of turning around and pulling you in his arms, to feel your bare body pressing against his as he kissed you breathless. Jack squeezed his eyes shut again in attempts to calm down his raging desire for you, fighting against the months worth of lust and attraction he’d managed to push aside until now. Jack couldn’t remember if he’d ever wanted a woman as much as he wanted you right now.

The earlier sight of you standing in the pond suddenly entered Jack’s mind. The vision had made Jack stop dead in his tracks and his breath caught in his throat; he’d been mesmerized by the way the water glistened on your skin in the pale moonlight, small droplets sliding alluringly down your shoulders and chest, over the round breasts and further down... for the first time in his life, Jack had been rendered utterly speechless. Only after you’d submerged yourself in the water, he’d again gained control of his wits.

Feeling you carefully scrub the cloth down his spine, Jack made up his mind. He knew you felt something more than mere friendship for him, otherwise you would have none of his flirting, and much less would’ve responded to that kiss earlier; you were a woman who was more than capable of speaking her mind and putting a swift stop to things you didn’t appreciate. It was time to stop dancing around each other, for it had went on for a year already and Jack wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to take it. Slowly, Jack reached his right arm behind him, his fingertips meeting soft skin as they came in contact with your waist. He felt your muscles tense for a moment and then relax, the reaction encouraging Jack to gently press his entire palm on your waist. Jack smiled, pleased to hear you gasp softly at the contact. Marvelling at the feel of your soft skin, Jack languidly rubbed his thumb in circles over the silken skin, content on just touching you like this for now.

Your heartbeat sped up the moment Jack’s hand touched your waist underneath the water. You try to keep your concentration on the task at hand, but it’s proving to be very nearly impossible with Jack’s warm hand resting over your waist, his thumb rubbing the skin of your side. The simple touch was making your lids grow heavy, and you had to remind yourself to concentrate instead of closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation. Drawing in a steadying breath, you run the cloth down his back again, edging closer to his lower back. You stop the movement as you feel Jack's hand mimic the motion, slowly stroking the skin of your side with his hand in time with yours, his palm now resting on your hip. His thumb starts to draw lazy circles over your hipbone that juts up slightly, and the simple contact is making warmth flow through your entire body.

You're suddenly struck with the realisation that this wasn't a game any longer, and if you wanted out of it, it was to be done soon before things went too far. But you didn't want out. You didn't want to stop, and you didn't want Jack to stop either, not now. With a small smile, you drag the cloth upwards once more, your smile growing as Jack again imitates the movement and slides his palm up, back to your waist. Jack's caresses are making you increasingly bolder, and you trail your free hand resting below his left shoulder down to his lower back and up again while tilting your hand so that your fingers skim over his side, delighting at the feel of his muscles twitching slightly beneath your touch. You've practically forgotten the cloth and the fact that you're supposed to be washing his back, enthralled by the sight in front of you. Jack's body is fascinating, and you have the strongest urge to run your hands over every inch of him; you've never scrutinized a male body this close, and certainly never one this perfect. Even the scars on his skin only seem to enhance his attractiveness instead of marring it; they're part of him, and you wouldn't have it any other way. He has to be the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your entire life.

Filled with sudden mischief, you press both your palms on his back and lean forward a bit. "You know, turnabout is fair play, Captain Sparrow," you whisper in his ear, smiling impishly.

Jack turns his head to the side, looking at your over his shoulder with a raised brow and a small smirk. "Indeed," he says in low voice that always sends a shiver down your back.

You pull back and let go of him, even though you already miss the contact. You turn around the same time as Jack does, the water sloshing quietly around you. Bending your arm slightly over your shoulder, you offer the cloth to Jack, your eyes slipping shut involuntarily as Jack's fingers brush fleetingly against your palm as he takes the cloth from you. You open them instantly, however, as you feel him gently touch the side of your neck and pull back the damp strands of hair, moving them to drape over your left shoulder just as you had done to him. You grab the tail of hair lying over your shoulder and chest with your left hand to keep it there, squeezing it yet a bit tighter as Jack again places one warm hand on your waist, while the other starts to brush against your back, scrubbing it with the cloth.

His tangible presence behind you is comforting, and a certain sense of safety lingers about your mind. But the thing you're most acutely aware of is the warmth emanating from his body, which in turn reminds you about your current state of nakedness. Jack brushes the cloth over your back in the same, unhurried way he did earlier with himself, taking his time in following the contours of your muscles. Suddenly Jack starts to stroke your waist lightly, caressing the skin as he slowly rubs his palm up and down, causing your breath to hitch. He pauses momentarily at your reaction, before picking up the movement again and allowing his hand to climb a bit higher on your body, all the way up to your ribcage, before sliding down again.

Your mind has started to cloud over; Jack's caresses are making excitement course through your whole body, making you feel warm and light-headed. You feel Jack place his right hand on your waist as well, and it takes you a moment to comprehend that he's discarded the washing cloth completely; he now has his both hands on your either sides of your waist, skimming over your sensitive skin in slow strokes. Jack's soft lips abruptly descend on the nape of your neck and place a soft kiss there, and your own lips part in a soundless moan as you instinctively tilt your chin towards your chest slightly to grant him better access. His palms slide over your waist, moving forward and gliding over your stomach, fingers splayed out to touch as much of you as possible. His fingertips rub your skin pleasurably as he murmurs your name breathlessly, his hot breath puffing against your neck and making you shiver in delight.

You sigh as Jack kisses you again, starting to trail light kisses down the side of your neck, his moustache tickling your skin pleasantly. Small moan escapes you lips as he kisses the particularly sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck. Your moan turns into a soft whimper and your eyes slip shut as Jack sucks on the skin, encouraged by your response. Your grip of your hair slackens under the exquisite onslaught of Jack's soft lips on your neck, and your hands drop under the water to rest over his on your stomach, holding onto them for support as Jack nips at your skin with his teeth lightly, only to soothe the spot with his tongue next. Your breathing has turned noticeably more laboured as Jack sucks at your skin once more before pulling away, dropping one more kiss on your nape and leaning his forehead against the back of your head, breathing heavily. The feel of his hot breath against your neck thrills you; you're ecstatic over the fact that he's affected like this with you.

You stand like that for a minute, equally out of breath by the brief but intense moment. You gaze down where your hands are still resting over Jack's that in turn lay on your stomach, the outlines slightly blurred by the water surrounding you. You feel everything so clearly, so strongly; the warm water around you, the way Jack's palms feel against your belly, the texture of his hands beneath your own palms, his breath against your neck, the lighting-like scar on Jack's left forearm that's pressing against your side… sudden fire burns in your veins, and you greedily want more, craving more than anything to know how every single inch of him feels like.

Gently, you pry his hands off of your stomach and turn around to face Jack, taking him in. He snakes his arms loosely around your waist again, stroking your lower back with his fingers, and you're overwhelmed by the desire to press against him. Smiling up at him, you do just that, watching his reaction as you quickly take a step closer and press yourself flush against his body, reaching your hands up to hold onto his shoulders. You gasp as you feel your breasts press against his smooth chest, your stomach mating against his and his manhood pressing hard against your abdomen. Jack's eyes widen momentarily and he inhales sharply as you press against him, his strong arms holding onto you tighter. His eyes have darkened, seeming coal black in the moonlight, desire burning in their depths as he gazes down at you intensely.

"Are you sure you want this, luv?" he asks you, his voice gruff. "If you wish me to stop, say it now. It'll probably kill me, but I will if you ask me to…"

You smile, amazed by this man. It was you who had sidled up to him, and still he was offering you a chance to stop it and be on your merry way without worries. In response you lower your gaze on his chest, over the two round bullet marks, and give into your old urge. Bending your head down, you press your lips over the lower mark, kissing the discoloration as if in hopes to erase it from his skin. You smile to yourself as you feel Jack's breath hitch at the contact, and you brush you lips over the other scar, as well. Again, you can smell the unique scent of him and sigh softly. If there was one moment you could get stuck in for good, it was this. Lifting you head, you meet Jack's smouldering eyes and smile slightly.

"If you stop now, I'll be forced to put water in your rum," you reply softly, surprised by the husky tone your voice has taken.

"Well, we can't have that, can we…?" Jack drawls while lowering his head slowly closer to yours.

You shake your head almost marginally, eyes locked on Jack's. "Suppose not…" you manage to whisper before Jack's lips are on yours, one hand sliding up your back and tangling in your damp locks, pulling you in a passionate kiss. You loop your arms around his neck as Jack's arm curls tightly around your waist, holding you close. Jack kisses you fervently, tilting your head gently to the side as his tongue slips past your lips, intent on exploring every crevice of your mouth. Heat pours through you, and you feel like you're on fire as the floodgates slam open, unleashing the fiery passion between the two of you.

Your hands slip down from his neck to run over his well-toned physique, caressing his back and stroking his sides while he keeps kissing you. Jack's hands aren't idle either but start to roam over your body freely, touching you everywhere he can possibly reach. Your body trembles slightly as his palms slide down your back, his fingers skimming over your spine as they travel yet downwards, gliding over your buttocks and even lower to gently stroke the sensitive skin of the back of your thighs, Jack's questing mouth over yours muffling your soft moan of pleasure. Your hands won't stop their explorations either, but slide between your bodies to rub the solid muscles of his abdomen, climbing up to his chest where you teasingly brush your fingertips over his flat nipples, making Jack groan in the kiss and tighten his grip of your thighs slightly in response. Neither of you can't seem to get enough of the other, the pull between you too strong to be ceased now.

The need for air finally forces you to break apart, but only for a moment. Gasping for breath, you just manage to fill your lungs as Jack's lips again crash against yours, but this time the kiss is hard and demanding. You welcome the sensation and return the kiss with equal fervour, your tongue engaging in a heated duel with his as he ravishes your mouth. With last fleeting squeeze of the backs of your thighs, Jack's roaming hands slip to the sides, running up and down the length of your thighs for a moment. Finally trailing up again, he slides his palms leisurely over the roundness of your hips, following the gentle curves of your waist and the slightest raise of your ribcage until his thumbs brush against the sides of your breasts and making you gasp in the kiss. You slide your hands up to Jack's shoulders and curl them around his neck again, craving to feel more of his touch.

Sucking on your bottom lip lightly, Jack pulls back from the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. With heavy lids, you gaze up at him, staring into his dark eyes, burning with barely restrained desire. Desire for you. The heady thought makes you shiver lightly, and you draw in a breath to speak.

"Jack…" you whisper breathlessly, unable to say more, but pleading wordlessly with your eyes.

"Shhh," he shushes you with a small smile, leaning down to press his lips against yours oh so gently; the kiss is slow and tender, a complete opposite from the previous, hungry kiss.

While brushing his lips across yours in almost teasing manner, Jack cups your round breasts in his hands, caressing the supple flesh with his fingers. He sweeps his thumbs over your stiff nipples in experiment, and the instant jolt of pleasure running through your body causes you to whimper and clutch onto his back. Pressing a butterfly kiss on the corner of your mouth, Jack trails a path to your jaw and down to the side of your neck, bestowing teasing nips, sucks and light kisses on your skin while his hands keep massaging your breasts. You moan aloud as he rolls his thumbs again over your nipples, adding more pressure this time around.

Tangling one hand in his wild hair and clutching his back with another, you're incapable of doing anything but closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side a little as Jack's lips work their magic on your neck, his talented touch upon your breasts causing you to sigh and moan softly. Your ardent responses are affecting Jack as well; you can feel his breathing turning laboured again, his caresses getting slightly more passionate. Slipping his hands down from your chest, Jack slides them down to your waist and curls his arms around you for support before gently pressing against you, urging you to move backwards.

"I need to see you," Jack says throatily, his hot breath blowing against your ear.

You realize he wants you out of the water, where he can see your entire body completely. Trusting in Jack, you let him push you onward as you slowly step backwards in the water, the soft sand of the pond's bottom under your soles. Jack backs you up against the side of the pond, where the water reaches you around your waist, maybe slightly lower. In sure movements, he grabs you by the waist with both hands and lifts you up to sit on the bank of the pond with your legs dangling over the edge, submerged in the water up to your calves. Jack is standing between your legs, still in the pond as he stares at your wet form, his burning gaze trailing over every inch of your revealed skin. You lean your palms on the soft grass of the bank, fighting against the shiver threatening to shake you as you watch Jack watching you.

At last, Jack touches his hand to you thigh left, languorously trailing his fingers across your skin, over your hip and brushing over your navel before journeying upwards, across your stomach and the valley between your breasts, gliding up to your collarbones and neck to finally cup your cheek.

"Beautiful… absolutely beautiful," he murmurs, gazing at you in appreciation. You smile, feeling yourself blush at the earnest words.

Jack leans in to kiss you, his lips pressing against yours as the passion flares between you again, driving you to seek him out, to touch him. You weave one hand in his dreadlocks to keep him close as his tongue flicks at your bottom lip, asking for access in your mouth. Granting it to him, you sigh as his tongue again plunders your mouth, shuddering at the intimate sensation. His caresses, scent and nearness are making your feel drunk, banishing all thought from your head except the obvious; you want more of him. Placing your free hand flat on his chest, you trail your palm down his muscles, scraping your fingernails lightly over his skin as you go and get rewarded by a shiver from Jack. Circling his navel with your finger, you keep going down, urged on by the fire coursing through your veins and burning in your belly, demanding to be satisfied.

Jack breaks the kiss abruptly as you touch your fingers to his hardness, gasping and squeezing his eyes shut as if in pain. Enthralled by his reaction, you curl your fingers around him and clutch him gently, causing Jack to groan. Marvelling at the soft, yet hard feel, you run your hand down his length, making Jack's body shudder and another guttural groan to spill from his lips, followed by your name. You're absolutely enraptured by the affect this is having on Jack, awed that you could make him react so strongly. Just as you're about to keep on with your ministrations, Jack pries your fingers off of him and grabs your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it quickly while looking deep into your eyes.

"Not just yet, darling," he whispers, his voice rough and throaty.

He claims your mouth in a passionate kiss before you manage to reply, hungrily tasting your lips. You respond wantonly, enjoying every minute, but at the same time getting readier by the moment to plead him to end this exquisite torture. As if reading your thoughts, Jack snakes one hand down your stomach, across your abdomen and sinks his fingers in the patch of soft curls at the apex of your thighs. You break from the kiss with a sharp gasp as you feel him brush against your most sensitive place, your gasp turning into a loud moan as he swiftly locates the small nub hidden within and gently grazes his fingertip over it, your muscles clenching at the contact.

You grasp Jack's shoulders tightly, holding onto him for dear life as he keeps swirling his finger over the perfect spot while his other hand strokes your back, giving you pleasure unlike anything you've ever felt before. Jack nuzzles your neck, whispering small endearments in your ear as your whole body trembles underneath his touch, whimpers and moans escaping your lips as jolts of pleasure shoot up from your very core, spreading through your entire body and making you feel dizzy, desperately yearning for more. You squeeze your eyes shut, breathing heavily as the delirious pleasure keeps mounting inside you with every touch of Jack's, your whole body quivering and demanding release. The pleasure he's giving you is so intense it's almost painful, and one part of you wishes him to stop, but the other desperately wants him to continue.

Without a warning Jack's touch suddenly leaves you, prompting you to let out a sound of protest, peeved and distressed that he left you hanging only moments away from the release you so longed for. Jack silences you with a feverish kiss, reassuring you that he wasn't done with you yet. His hands snake down your back, caressing the skin as they finally land on your buttocks, cupping the soft flesh and scooting you yet a bit closer to the edge of the pond, closer to him. You inhale sharply at the feel of him pressed hard against your womanhood, breaking the kiss. Jack wraps his arms around you and leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he looks deep in your eyes beseechingly.

You smile as you realize that he's asking for your permission, searching for any indication telling him that you might want to stop. Your smile grows a bit as you promptly lift your legs up from the water and swiftly wrap them around Jack's waist, crossing your ankles and digging your heels against his charmingly firm ass. Jack draws in a sharp breath as the action presses you yet closer to him, and his lips descend hungrily against yours again. Your mind is swimming in the hazy, delirious pleasure, so caught up in the wonderful kiss that you're only faintly aware of Jack positioning himself at your opening. With one, smooth thrust, he's fully inside you, and both of you break away from the kiss, your moans mingling as your bodies become one.

You clutch each other like two people about to drown, holding onto another like a lifeline. You close your eyes as you rest your forehead against Jack's shoulder, trying to calm your breathing and getting used to the gentle inside stretching and the unique feel of Jack buried inside of you, hard and throbbing. Jack's one hand is stroking the back of your neck, while his other arm is still wrapped around your waist. His laboured breath is puffing against your skin as he drops kisses on your shoulder and the side of your neck, forcing himself to stay still until you're comfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you in any way.

After a moment, your body had adapted into his presence and you no longer feel at all uncomfortable. Your muscles relax, and you embrace the new sensation wholeheartedly. Inhaling the scent of Jack's skin, rum and salt water, you smile at the feeling of completeness that surrounds you. The blazing hot fire starts to rekindle in your belly; urging you onwards and making you crave for more. Turning your face, you press your lips against Jack's neck, tasting his skin like you've dreamed of doing. Swaying your hips slightly in experiment, you press yourself against Jack more firmly, knowing he'll take the hint.

Jack's grip of your waist tightens immediately, his hand on your neck tangling in your hair as he raises his head to look at you, his gaze heated while he pulls himself out of you almost entirely, only to thrust deeply back in. The unbelievable sensation makes you moan, your back arching gently in response. You pant as Jack rolls his hips leisurely, plunging in and out of you in slow, almost teasing strokes while watching you. You lick you lips and squeeze your legs around his waist a bit harder, unconsciously clenching your inner muscles as well, causing Jack to groan and close his eyes as your body grips him tighter. Still, he maintains his unhurried pace, intent on making the moment last for as long as possible. You whimper as Jack pushes a bit deeper, enjoying the delicious friction created by his thrusting. Your body shivers, the muscles of your thighs and calves clenching and unclenching as his slow pace is starting to drive you insane with want. Needing more, you again squeeze you muscles and are instantly rewarded with a throaty groan from Jack and a deeper, harder plunge that sends a jolt of sharp pleasure rippling through your body. You moan in pleasure as Jack picks up the pace, rolling his hips faster.

Suddenly your world tilts violently, and you find yourself lying flat on your back in the soft grass, with Jack hovering on top of you, bracing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, never once ceasing his movements. Another moan tears from your lips as the new position allows Jack to thrust in deeper and harder. You stare up at him through you lashes, watching his beautiful body sway on top of yours, his skin painted silver by the moonlight, his muscles flexing, few untamed dreadlocks draping down his shoulders, his eyes coal black in the darkness… he looks like some sort of god, the picture of him like this etching forever into your mind.

Your eyes slip shut involuntarily as surges of unadulterated pleasure emanate from your core, sweeping through your entire being like an unstoppable tidal wave, making you gasp and writhe shamelessly beneath Jack. A loud groan spills from your mouth unbridled as you suddenly feel Jack's lips on your right breast, and you force your eyes open. His dark head is bowed upon your breast, his hot mouth on the sensitive flesh. You sink your fingers in his hair, gasping as his lips and tongue torment the hardened nipple, adding to the near excruciating amount of pleasure that runs through you. All the while Jack keeps up his merciless thrusting, driving you closer and closer to the brink you're longing to fall down from.

You cry out Jack's name, panting and writhing beneath his touch, begging without modesty as his thrusts become harder still, almost desperate, and you know he's just as close to the sweet release as you are. Moaning, you arch your back as he plunges in deep, your stomach meeting his. Your hips have started to rise from the ground to meet his thrusts, matching his movements perfectly. Abandoning your breast, Jack draws in a shuddering breath before crashing his mouth on yours, kissing you feverishly as he leans his weight on one arm, trailing the other down your trembling body to land between your thighs, flicking his finger over the most sensitive spot in your body. That's all it takes, and you moan and whimper in Jack's mouth as the hot-white pleasure blinds you and sweeps though you in waves, your muscles clenching tighter around Jack as an intense orgasm overtakes you. Jack groans, breaking the kiss as he thrusts yet a few times, hard and deep as you spasm around him, his body trembling as he soon follows you, finding his own release with a masculine growl.

Trying to desperately catch your breath, you wrap your arms around Jack's neck as he collapses over you, spent. He buries his face in your neck, breathing hard, and your sensitised body still trembles in the wake of the glorious orgasm. Jack's weight on top of you is comforting, and you welcome the intimate feel of him pressed against you so completely. Your breathing is still laboured, you chest rising and falling rhythmically, as does Jack's. Neither of you says anything, both content on just basking in the presence of another and the calm serenity of the afterglow.

"Oh gods," you finally manage to whisper breathlessly, momentarily incapable of more elaborate articulation.

Jack smiles against you neck, pressing a kiss on it. "I'll say," he murmurs with a low chuckle.

After a moment of silence, Jack carefully withdraws from your body and rolls gracefully on his back, taking you with him and reversing your places so that you're now lying on top of him. You press your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and sigh softly as Jack starts stroking your back with one hand, brushing his fingers over your spine. You reach your left hand up to absently trace the round scars on his chest with one finger, the dark marks standing out from his light skin clearly even in the moonlight. You feel slightly drowsy, wishing you could just fall asleep here with Jack's arms around you and forget about everything else. But you know you can't; you'll have to get back to the cottage soon. The others are probably already wondering where you two disappeared.

Out of nowhere, a thought enters in your mind. I just slept with my best friend. Curiously, the notion only makes you want to laugh, and a quiet chuckle escapes you although you try to stifle it.

"May I enquire what's so amusing?" Jack asks lazily, drumming his fingers on your back once.

You exhale through your nose, shrugging feebly. "I was just wondering if we're still best friends after this little… scene," you say, slight amusement in your tone.

Jack picks up your hand tracing the scars on his chest with his free one, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. "You're always going to my best friend, no matter what happens."

You lift up your head and lean you chin on his chest, staring down at him. "Yeah?"

Jack smiles, meeting your gaze. "Yeah."

You smile slightly in a way of response. "So…" you start, a bit hesitant. "Where do we go from here?"

Sliding his hand up your back to your hair, Jack idly plays with a lock of your hair before answering. "We'll take it one day at a time, luv."

You think about it, knowing there isn't much else to do but that. "Sounds good to me," you reply.

Jack's gaze trails down your face, lingering around your neck. A smug grin spreads on his lips as he obviously notices something.

"What?" you ask defensively.

Brushing a finger over the spot where your shoulder and neck meet, Jack responds. "Left a bit of a mark, there…" he trails off, grinning.

You roll your eyes, albeit good-naturedly. "Great," you say wryly, imagining the love bite that must be decorating your skin. How on earth were you going to cover that up, you honestly had no idea…

"Aw, it's not that bad," Jack says and smirks slyly. "I like it. A lot, actually."

"You would," you chuckle, laying your head back on his chest. Jack's response is to wrap his arms around you with a chuckle of his own. You close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling. You know you would have to get up soon and head back to the cottage, but not yet. Just not quite yet…

* * * * *

CHAPTER 20 – Changes

To say things were tense aboard the Espirítu Maldito would've been an understatement. Ever since the incident a few hours ago when the crew had failed to notice the departure of the Black Pearl, one of the most recognisable ship in the entire Caribbean, the apprehensive air aboard the shabby galleon had been so thick one could've easily cut it with the metaphorical knife. Following the quartermaster Carmen's announcement, Captain Delgado had stormed out of her quarters and spent a good while venting her blazing fury at the crew, cursing their incompetence so vehemently that even the most hardened sea dogs around would've blushed at her words.

Bearing the brunt of Gabriela's still simmering ire had fallen upon Carmen. The half-blind quartermaster of the Maldito had been the one responsible of the watch at the time, so naturally Gabriela blamed her for the entire incident. The rest of the crew had promptly gone back to their respective tasks after Delgado's harsh bout of anger, glad to escape the uneasy situation in the safety of work. None of them dared to show open camaraderie towards the ill-fated Carmen, but steered clear of her in fear of Gabriela's punishment for socializing with the woman that the intimidating Captain now considered almost as bad as a betrayer.

Standing on the quarterdeck, staring out in the dark horizon stretching in front of the galleon as the harsh gusts of wind blew across the sea, Gabriela was still seething silently. The sea was starting to get restless, the wind was picking up and ominous black clouds were rolling over the inky blue night sky, signalling for the approaching storm. The weather reflected Gabriela's current mood perfectly.

She knew she should tell Nerita to turn the ship around and return back to Tortuga before the storm would be over them, but she stayed silent. They'd searched for the Black Pearl for a good while already, but so far their efforts had been nothing but a waste of time. This only made Gabriela's temper flare all over again; after nine years of searching for the missing half of the map, they'd finally located it. They finally knew exactly who had it, and they had been so close to extracting it. And then one idiotic, dim-witted woman from her own crew, no less, destroys everything, causing all of Gabriela's carefully weaved plans to crumble down.

"Damn one-eyed fool," Gabriela hissed viciously under her breath, cursing Carmen all over again in her mind.

Nerita, who'd been steering the ship, glanced fleetingly at the Captain standing some four feet away from her and the wheel, catching her fierce murmur. Turning the rudder a few points to port, she gripped the worn handles of the wheel with both hands, feeling the heavy galleon respond to the move beneath her feet and alter her course slightly.

As much of a Captain as Gabriela was and as impressive as her skills were, her title was mainly nominal, seeing as she rarely steered the Maldito herself. Nerita found this slightly odd, but did not question it. Gabriela was not a pirate because of a passion for the sea, or for the ship; she was a pirate for the power and the riches. Grown up in poverty, Delgado detested poor conditions in living and her general lifestyle. But sometimes even she had to make exceptions, like the stay in Otis' sorry excuse of a tavern. Be that as it may, there were only few times Nerita had seen Gabriela sail the Maldito herself.

But it suited Nerita just fine; that meant the task would befall on her, the loyal first mate, and she had no problems with that. Nerita loved sailing, always had. It was amazing to feel the massive vessel live underneath her soles and be aware of her every movement.

"The weather is getting worse and the wind keeps picking up. The conditions are against us, Captain," Nerita voiced her thought aloud, hoping that Delgado wouldn't punish everyone of Carmen's mistake. Truthfully, Nerita was slightly surprised Gabriela had allowed Carmen to keep breathing. The search for the treasure of the Abyss meant everything to her, and she rarely tolerated mistakes of any kind.

Levelling her smoky, grey eyes on the short first mate, Gabriela raised one dark brow. "Are they indeed?" she asked sardonically, narrowing her gaze. "Thank you for pointing that out, Nerita!"

Nerita sighed to herself. She should've known the Captain was going to be obstinate about this. They would never find the Black Pearl like this, and certainly not in the increasingly horrible weather!

"With all due respect Captain, I think we should consider returning to Tortuga," Nerita said, almost expecting Gabriela to get infuriated again.

Gabriela glanced at Nerita sharply, tearing her eyes off of the turbulent horizon. Staring down at the shorter woman piercingly for a moment, Gabriela looked back across the open waters.

"You're correct. Turn us around and get us back. I'm going back to my quarters. I don't want to be disturbed, unless it's something of utmost importance," she said sternly, giving Nerita a quick look before starting to stalk down the stairs of the helm.

"Sí, Capitan," Nerita acknowledged after her.

Descending down the stairs, Delgado strode inside her quarters and slammed the door shut in her wake just as the rain started pounding the decks of the ship rhythmically. Shrugging off her long overcoat and throwing it across the back of her chair, Gabriela walked over her bureau and opened one of the small drawers. Pulling out a piece of yellowed parchment, she carefully unrolled it and stared at the slightly faded, dark drawings on the map.

"Damn you, Sparrow. You should have known better then to turn me down," Gabriela said to the empty cabin, save for the lightly coloured snake coiled up on one of the shelves.

Turning around slowly with the map-half in her hands, Gabriela took a few steps away from the bureau and sat down on one of the chairs by the round table in the middle of the cabin. Propping her elbows on the table, Gabriela kept staring at the map that had taken years out of her life. She knew she'd have to think up another way to get the other half from Sparrow, now that the tables had suddenly turned to her disadvantage.

"Everybody has a weak point, even the infamous Captain Sparrow," she said in mocking tone. "And I'll find it, sooner or later. And when I do, it's only a matter of giving that very point a little prod…" she trailed off, flicking her eyes on the albino boa resting on top of the shelf. A cold, predatory grin curled her lips upwards.

"Oh yes. I'll be giving it a prod, alright… hard, and with something sharp."

* * * *

Will Turner stared out of the window of the Fowler's idyllic cottage, his gaze climbing up from the lush greenery surrounding the small house to the white stars that glittered overhead against the inky blueness of the sky. Will had wandered in the adjoining room from the lounge where Elizabeth, Lucas Fowler, Gibbs and Anamaria were sitting and talking, while waiting for Nora and Mrs. Potters, the Fowler's elderly housekeeper, to fix a bit something to eat.

After having taken care of the Pearl, Gibbs and Anamaria had arrived to the cottage only few minutes ago with a small puppy dog that apparently was a newfound friend of Elizabeth's cousin. The Black Pearl was safely hidden away in a little cove nearby the cottage, a place where both Gibbs and Anamaria had convinced everyone that she wouldn't be found very easily. And now with the added help of the night that blended the black ship in the darkness, there was nothing to worry about.

Will noted absently that the wind had picked up slightly, bending the branches of the trees and rustling the bushes, promising rain. But the weather conditions were the last thing on the young blacksmith's mind. Ever since the meeting with Lucas Fowler in the Faithful Bride tavern, the normally level-headed youngster's thoughts had kept wandering off, always going back to one person; his father.

Are me old eyes deceivin’ me? This cannot be Bootstrap Bill I see! Lucas Fowler had cried out in amazement after laying his eyes on Will for the first time.

Another very similar comment sprung to Will's mind, spoken a year ago aboard the Black Pearl that was still cursed and captained by Barbossa. He’s a spittin' image of ol’ Bootstrap Bill, come back to 'aunt us!

Heaving a silent sigh, Will shook his head slightly and folded his arms over his chest. Spitting image… it was still hard to believe. It had been a year now since Will had, in desperation to save Elizabeth, met the oddball pirate Jack Sparrow, the erstwhile Captain of the Black Pearl on a private quest to reclaim the possession of his ship. When Will had sprung Jack and his new-made friend (who'd turned out to be Elizabeth's cousin) from the cell in Fort Charles, he had no idea how much of his past would be revealed to him during the sail to Tortuga.

Will remembered clearly how shocked and numb he'd felt when Jack had told him that William Turner senior was also known by the name of Bootstrap Bill, and that he was not a respectable merchant sailor who obeyed the law like Will had always believed. No, he had been a pirate, a scallywag, just like Jack. In fact, they had even been friends before Barbossa had led the crew in a mutiny against Jack.

A Pirate. That had almost seemed like a curse word to Will a year ago. He could scarcely believe it. Pirates were vile, disgusting creatures that greedily looted everything they got theirs hands on and killed cruelly. His father could have not been like that! Will's initial thought was that Jack must have been lying. He was a pirate himself, wasn't he? Pirates never told the truth, right? No. As Will had dangled over the sea, hanging from the boom and having no choice but to listen to Jack, his sincere words had finally made Will think. Jack would've had no reason to lie to him, when there was no profit in the action for Jack. And, Will realized later on, the older man had to held some kind of allegiance to the son of his old friend, even if he didn't necessarily recognize it or wasn't about to admit it himself.

Later, in the Faithful Bride on Tortuga, Will had been dragged over to the bar by Elizabeth's cousin while Jack was talking with Gibbs. They'd mainly talked about Jack and his trust-worthiness, but Will remember clearly how you had assured him with both of his insecurities about Jack and his father. There are different kinds of pirates out there, Will; ones that are good men and ones that are not. I have a gut feeling Jack is a good man, just like your father was.

The final piece of the puzzle fell into place when Will had been locked in the brig of the Pearl, and asked about his father from Pintell and Ragetti. Will had realized then what a sacrifice his father had made, his loyalty to Jack so strong that he'd risked his life and sent one piece of the cursed treasure to Will. The benevolence of the unselfish act had suddenly dawned to Will, rendering him speechless. Just like Jack and you had told him, William Turner had been a good man, and this was enough for Will.

With that, Will had come to grips quickly after the whole misadventure with Barbossa was over. But another thing about his heritage still had him wondering. Who was he, in reality? Was he a pirate or a blacksmith? Elizabeth had, albeit with some playfulness, called him a pirate over the battlements just before their first kiss. Recalling Jack's words aboard the Interceptor, Will realized he had been very correct.

But pirate's in your blood, boy, so you're gonna have to square with that some day.

That day had long since been coming, but had he squared with the matter entirely yet? Will wasn't entirely sure about this. But he understood himself a bit better, now. There had always been something in Will that called out to the sea, a small stir lingering somewhere in the back of his mind. Something about the sea made him slightly restless, but before meeting Jack, Will hadn't truly comprehended what it really meant. He'd summed it up to being some sort of trauma caused by the disastrous fate of the ship Will had been aboard as a lad while on the crossing from England. But now he knew better; it was the blood of the pirate in his veins that called to him.

Be that as it may, being a blacksmith was something he knew both in and out. He'd been trained in the craft for years, and Will knew Mr. Brown was about to leave the smithy to him soon. The thought made him feel joyous, to know that before long he could take full pride of his own work instead of it being handed over to the idle Mr. Brown. But on the other hand, ever since Will had boarded the infamous Black Pearl with Elizabeth before this whole mess with Captain Delgado had even begun, he hadn't been able to quell the rush of excitement that ran through him as he walked aboard the magnificent ship and felt the sea rocking gently beneath the vessel. He'd understood Jack perfectly at that moment, and knew why he was so attached to his way of life. And as bleak as the situation they were all in with the malicious Captain Delgado was, Will had to admit that the new adventure was not totally unwelcome at all. That had to be the pirate in him talking.

Finally, Will came to a decision. He was a pirate in blacksmith's clothes. Was it so bad to be both?

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around Will's middle from behind, making him smile at the familiar gesture. Elizabeth leaned the side of her face against his arm, gazing up at him. "What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

Staying silent for a moment, Will looked down at his fiancée. "Elizabeth, which do you think I am; a blacksmith or a pirate?"

Elizabeth raised her brows at the peculiar question, but the tone of Will's voice and the expression on his face told Elizabeth this was important to him. Frowning a little, Elizabeth thought about it for a second, and then smiled up to Will. "Both. And I love you just the way you are."

Will's features melted into a grin. "I knew I could count on you," he murmured, grateful.

"And you always can," Elizabeth smiled back. "Now come on, before there'll be nothing left for you!" she teased with a grin, taking Will's hand in hers and pulling him back towards the sitting room with her.

"There you two lovebirds are!" Nora Fowler smiled as Will and Elizabeth returned to the lounge.

Nora and Mrs. Potters were setting cups and plates on the table in the middle of the lounge that was flanked by comfortable armchairs and sofas. Fire was blazing and crackling in the fireplace, casting warm glow in the room. Lucky had been curled up on the floor in front of it, basking in the warmth, but hearing the plates clinking the dog lifted its head and gazed curiously towards the table.

Elizabeth returned the smile. "We were just admiring the house, it's such a beautiful one, Mrs. Fowler," she said diplomatically while she and Will sat on one of the settees over the table.

"Why thank you, dear. But please, call me Nora. It makes me feel old when I'm called a missus!" she laughed pleasantly. "Now, all of you; eat!"

She didn't need to ask twice, especially Gibbs and Anamaria were only happy to oblige. It was only tea and some sandwiches, but compared to the food one got aboard a ship during the sails, it was pure luxury.

"Where be Jack and the lass?" Gibbs mumbled through a mouthful of bread, earning a disapproving glance from Anamaria. Gibbs immediately closed his mouth and swallowed the bite, and then asked again, making Anamaria nod to herself and bite into her own sandwich. Lucky had inconspicuously padded next to the sofa Ana and Gibbs were sitting on, dropped on the floor and now stared up at Anamaria's sandwich with round, pleading eyes.

"That's the question, isn't it?" Will smirked behind his cup of tea, causing Anamaria to arch her brow and Elizabeth to smile.

Nora took the tray she'd used while bringing the dishes over from the kitchen, smiling enigmatically. "I'll go get us some biscuits and jam for afters, I'll be right back." With that, she started walking towards the kitchen.

Lucas Fowler was the only one who recognized the smile on his wife's face, knowing she was up to something. Glancing at the younger folk, he smiled apolitically. "S'cuse me for a moment," he said and got up, following Nora into the kitchen.

Finding his wife of twenty-five years busying herself with finding the biscuits, Lucas stopped next to the kitchen counter and sighed. "Darling…?"

"Yes, Lucas?" Nora asked while opening a cupboard door.

"Ye wouldn't happen to know where our reckless nephew and 'is charming lady friend are?" he asked, crossing his arms. A small smile was playing upon his lips, knowing what a hopeless romantic his dear wife was.

Nora closed the cupboard door, a jar of biscuits in her hand. "Why ever would you think that, Lucas?" she asked innocently, but Lucas knew better than to fall for the trick.

"Nora…"

Taking out another plate, Nora placed some biscuits on it, shrugging her shoulders. "All I know is that the lovely young lady wanted a bath, so I gave her a towel and told 'er where to find the pond."

Lucas rolled his eyes in exasperation, looking momentarily very much like his younger nephew. "Aw, dearest, ye didn't…?"

"Didn't what?"

"Tell Jack 'bout that?"

Nora was quiet for a moment, before glancing at her husband behind her shoulder with a mischievous smile. "I might 'ave accidentally slipped something 'bout her whereabouts to the boy…"

"Nora!" Lucas groaned, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Don't you 'Nora' me, ye old sea dog," Nora replied with a teasing edge, stepping closer to him. "They're two adults, whether you see them as ones or not. And, I have you know, they're not just friends. I've known that boy since he was but a lad, and so 'ave you. And I'm tellin' you I've never seen 'im look at a lass like he does at 'er."

Lucas was quiet for a while, gazing down at his shorter wife with his brown eyes. "Old?" he repeated incredulously after a moment.

Nora laughed, slapping Lucas playfully on his chest. "Is that all ye heard, you scallywag?"

"No, I heard ye. …But do you really think of me as old?"

"No, I don't." Nora sighed, smiling up at his husband.

"Tha's good. So, are ye tellin' me those two are at the pond? By their onesies?" Lucas asked while motioning with his fingers, wanting to make sure.

"I think I am, aye."

Lucas chuckled, shaking his head again. "What're ye hopin' to gain by playin' a matchmaker, love?"

Nora smiled. "Just want to see that boy happy. I 'ave a gut feeling that girl just might make 'im so, at least one day."

"Ah, one of yer famous gut feelings!" Lucas exclaimed teasingly, and Nora gave a disapproving noise, pointing her forefinger warningly at him. Lucas quickly raised his hands in surrender, brown eyes widening.

Despite the fact that Nora had know Lucas for thirty years already and been married to him for twenty-five, that was an expression Nora still wasn't able to resist. Smiling, she hugged Lucas. Wrapping his arms around his wife lovingly, Lucas kissed her forehead and chuckled.

"That pond is pretty special, ain't it? Let's hope yer gut feelin' is correct."

"They're always correct, ye lout," Nora admonished gently, and Lucas chuckled again.

"Love ye, Nora."

"I know you do, dearest. Love ye back."

* * * *

There's a certain feeling of levity about you as you and Jack make your way slowly back towards the cottage, walking side by side in the dark forest. Jack was no different; you again catch the grin on his face from the corner of your eye while Jack thinks you're not watching. Hiding your own smile, you glance briefly down at the bundle of clothes you're carrying. You're clad in the soft bathrobe and your boots, and suddenly remember thinking the collar was luckily high enough to hide the dark love bite on your neck while you were putting it on earlier. Jack had donned his pants and shirt and tied the sash around his waist, (after you'd told him he couldn't go naked, like he'd initially suggested. Not that you had anything against it, but the others might find it a bit awkward) but dangled his belt and vest in one hand.

There was a new level of closeness between you and Jack, some unexplained, elusive feeling that just existed between two people that knew each other intimately. You notice that ever since you left the pond few moments ago, neither of you has really said much nor stepped further away from one another than one step. You figure you were both adjusting to the drastic change in your relationship that had until now been platonic, aside from the flirting game you'd been playing ever since you'd met a little over a year ago.

You had no regrets over what had happened between you, but still you were a bit at loss. You and Jack had both agreed to take things one day at a time from now on, but you were still wondering where this left you and Jack standing now. Jack had said you were still his best friend, no matter what, and you know for certain he's still yours. That wouldn't change, but you knew other things had irrevocably changed the moment you had embraced in the pond and wordlessly agreed to take things a step further.

Glancing up at Jack briefly, you determinately banish your analytical thoughts from your mind. You know you want to be with Jack and apparently he with you, and that was good enough for you at the moment. Things would eventually be resolving by themselves, you were certain of it.

Noticing your quick look, Jack grins. He stops abruptly and pulls you in his arms. "See something you like?" he asks, never losing that grin of his.

"Oh, possibly…" you respond, trying to be serious but failing miserably. You can't seem to keep from smiling.

"Really? I definitely see something I like very much," Jack breathes, bending down to kiss you.

You close your eyes as you feel his soft lips brush against yours, instinctively parting your mouth to allow him access in. The kiss is slow and gentle, but no less intense than the fervent ones you bestowed upon one another in the throes of passion a while ago. Parting after a moment, you open your eyes and look directly in the beautiful, dark depths of Jack's as he rests his forehead against yours, his arms still around you.

"You don't have any regrets, do you?" he asks quietly, looking somewhat hesitant.

You shake your head marginally, smiling. "No, none at all. Have you?"

Jack grins. "Just one. That we didn't do this sooner."

You laugh, and Jack lifts one hand to pull the collar of your robe down slightly, grinning mindlessly at the revealed skin of your neck. You roll your eyes.

"Yes Jack, it's still there," you remark dryly, both amused and perplexed by his interest with the love bite he gave you.

"Sorry luv, I couldn't resist. There's something fascinating about it… to know that I'm the one who gave you that," Jack grins cheekily, his eyes positively sparkling.

Shaking your head, you smile at the remark in amusement. "Only you, Jack. Only you…"

"Damn straight only me. I'll bloody kill everyone else who dares to touch you," he murmurs against your lips, only half-playfully. You laugh a bit before Jack claims your lips again, though the possessive comment sends a small shiver down your back.

"We really need to get going, you know, before someone comes out looking for us," you say as you break apart, slightly out of breath.

Jack sighs, clearly disagreeing with you. "Aye, suppose you're right," he finally says, pulling back from you slightly.

"Jack?" you ask tentatively, wishing to know his opinion. "Do you think we should… keep this a secret?"

Jack is silent for a moment, thinking about this. "I think… what happened tonight concerns just you and me, darling, it's no one else's business. But I'm not saying we should actively keep anything a secret, either. We have nothing to be ashamed of, right?" he says softly, looking at you in the eyes.

You grin, pleased to hear this. "My thoughts exactly."

Smiling and dropping yet one, quick kiss on your lips, Jack says, "We'd best be going. By the looks of things, it'll rain soon." With that, he starts guiding you down the path again, one arm around your waist.

Soon was indeed a correct guess; you and Jack hadn't taken but a few steps down the sandy path when the first drops of water started falling down from the darkened sky, quickly turning into an outright downpour. Luckily the cottage wasn't that far away anymore and you both stayed relatively dry as you ran the rest of the way. Making your way across the backyard of the cottage, you and Jack quickly climb up the stairs onto the roofed veranda, stopping only to take of your wet boots before getting inside, slamming the door firmly shut behind you.

The door leads straight into the spacious sitting room, and you suddenly find yourself being the target of six eye pairs, gazing at you and Jack. Will and Elizabeth seem somewhat stunned by the states of your apparels, Fowler shakes his head and shoots an amused look at Nora, who just smiles in return. Anamaria raises her brow, before blinking and smirking smugly. Gibbs seems to be more interested in whatever he's eating, but manages a slightly bemused look.

You're about to say something, but nothing comes to your mind. Jack however, always quick to recover, just grins pleasantly. "Gibbs! Anamaria! You're back quickly. Nasty weather, innit?"

"We we're away over an hour," Gibbs points out dryly, and Anamaria's smirk grows.

"Ha…" Jack hums in a way of response, glancing at you briefly. "Guess time flies when you have fun," he remarks so quietly only you catch it, smirking.

You snort, shooting Jack a droll look. A sudden, rapid patter of paws and nails clinking against the floor diverts your attention from Jack, and you kneel down as Lucky practically runs to greet you, small tail wagging madly from side to side.

"Lucky! Mommy's missed you, y'know? That's such a good boy," you coo quietly, scratching the puppy's neck before scooping him up in your arms and standing up. You catch Jack discreetly roll his eyes at your baby talk to the dog, but ignore it.

"Well, I think you'd prolly like a change of clothes, sweetie," Nora tells you with a smile as you and Jack walk over to the others.

"Yeah, I would," say reply with a smile of your own. These people were just so wonderful, openly welcoming all of you in their home.

"Come with me, I'll be showing ye your room while were at it," Nora says, nodding her head slightly for you to follow. Setting Lucky on the floor, you glance at Jack fleetingly and meet his gaze before following the older woman up the stairs not far from the sofas, feeling Jack's eyes on your back all the way up.

As you reach the second floor of the cottage, you can hear the rain pounding against the roof. Nora leads you along the hallway that stretches left from the top of the stairs, with several doors on both sides of the hallway. Walking past many doors, Nora finally stops at the last door on the right, pushing the door open.

"I think you'll like this room, 'ere," she smiles as you two walk in.

It's quite dark inside, but you can see a small balcony with French doors on the opposite side of the room from the entrance. Nora lights some candles, placing them on a white plate and setting the dish on a dresser that stands on the right side of the door, and the soft light illuminates the room. You can feel your jaw dropping slightly at the sight; you've never seen a room so beautiful before. It's not overly large in size, but just perfect. The wallpapers are light blue, reminding you of the sky in a clear day. The roof is high and arches slightly, painted pure white. The curtains on the windows and over the balcony doors are light, slightly translucent material, also white. On the right side of the room hangs a big, oval-shaped mirror with a decorative wooden frame around it. And finally, there's a large, queen-sized bed dominating the left side of the room, across the balcony, with an indigo blue bedspread pulled over it.

"It's beautiful," you finally manage to say, really meaning it.

Nora smiles at your wide eyes as you look around the room. "Thought you might like it," she says, and leans over a bit closer to you, as if fearing someone might overhear her. "The only room that has silk sheets, deary. Figured ye might enjoy 'em," she smirks.

You raise your brow and look at the older woman with a confused smile. "How so?"

Nora shrugs her shoulders. "I doubt ye have silken sheets aboard the Pearl. Every girl needs some luxury in 'er life once in a while."

You just nod slowly, and smile. Well, you had never slept in silk sheets before, so you had no objections with that.

"Well, I'll go fetch those clothes for ye. Your own ones are being washed; they'll be dry by the morning. But I do have some of me old clothes that are still perfectly fine. I figure you'll be wanting anything that's not a dress, aye?"

You grin. "Yeah, dresses aren't really my thing."

Nora chuckles and walks out, leaving you alone again to marvel at the room. Idly, you walk over the balcony and push one curtain aside. The small balcony is painted white, like the rest of the cottage. Rain is drumming gently against the glass of the French doors, blurring the vision out of them. You make out, however, that the view is towards the backyard and the forest where the pond is. A smile spreads to your lips as you think of the pond and the events that took place there only some while back. You still can't believe you and Jack had made love there, but you had. And it was absolutely amazing, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

You hadn't been a virgin, but you'd only been with a man once before Jack. And that time hadn't exactly been a memorable one. You feel sad that your first time wasn't with a man that you truly cared about, but some drunken one-night thing that had happened only few months after your father was killed. You'd been hurting so much over the incident that you'd just gotten drunk one night, wanting to forget everything at least for one night. Well, you were drunk, he was drunk, and it was just bad. You'd just lain there, waiting it to be over. It wasn't painful or anything like that, just very unsatisfactory and …indifferent, you guess. But all that was in the past. Jack was now, and that was what mattered.

"Alright, let's hear everythin'," Anamaria's voice suddenly breaks through your thoughts, and you turn around to find your friends standing in the room with her hands on her hips, looking at you expectantly.

"What everything?"

"Oh please, don't give me that," Ana rolls her eyes. "About you and the Captain, of course. Do ye think I'm blind?"

You look at her for a moment before shrugging. "What do you want me to say?"

Anamaria is about to retort, but Elizabeth suddenly bursts in the room, closing the door behind her. "Wait, I want to hear this, too!"

You groan in frustration, throwing your hands up in the air. "What is this, a Spanish inquisition?"

"More fittin' question would be what's this?" Anamaria cries out as she takes a step closer to you, pulling the collar of your robe to the side slightly to expose your hickey properly.

"Oh, that…" you trail off, slapping Ana's hand off.

Elizabeth gasps, saying your name in astonishment. Anamaria gives her a dry look. "Don't tell me Will has never given ye one o' those."

"What?! I… well, erm," Elizabeth stutters, before controlling herself and muttering, "Maybe once or twice..."

Anamaria smirks, looking at you. "Yer so caught now. Fess up!"

"For heaven's sake!" you exclaim. "Yes, Jack and me slept together, alright! We had sex, did the nasty, danced the horizontal tango, had a roll around the hay… are you getting the picture already?"

Elizabeth and Anamaria stare at you in silence. Finally Elizabeth, of all people, breaks it. "So… how was it?"

You grin. "Oh, very nice… mind-blowing, really. And that's all you're getting out of me, ladies!"

Both Anamaria and Elizabeth instantly let out their individual, disappointed sounds of protest, and you chuckle in amusement.

"C'mon now Lizzie, your wedding is in two days, you'll find out soon enough what's it like. And Ana, you just need to find yourself a bloke of your own," you smirk. Lizzie blushes slightly at the thought and Ana scowls at you, but there's a humorous sparkle in her eyes.

At that moment, Nora opens the door and steps inside with some clothes draped over her arm. "Oh, hello girls. I suppose yer questioning the poor lass about that nephew of ours, eh?" she flashes a wide grin.

You blink, looking at Nora. How the heck did she know that? Nora's smile doesn't diminish as she sets the clothes on the bed.

"Ah, I was once young too, y'know!" she winks. "Now, here are few shirts and some pants I found, take a look. I think they're about your size. Why don't we girls leave the lass to change," she goes on, talking to Anamaria and Elizabeth.

Ana and Elizabeth leave reluctantly, clearly not done pestering your about Jack quite yet. You had a feeling you'd have to endure some more gloating from Ana, at least. You smile to yourself as you step over to the bed, looking down at the clothes. Nora is about to step out of the room as well, but pauses at the door to look back at you.

"Yer a good girl, lass, and Jack's a decent lad deep down. Don't worry 'bout a thing, there are more important things in life to do than that," she says lightly with a smile, before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her.

You stare at the closed door for a moment, mulling over her words. A smile crosses your face as you start rummaging through the pile of clothes. Jack's aunt and uncle were indeed wonderful people.

CHAPTERS 21-25

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