CHAPTER 6 - Temptations

Elizabeth sighed soundly in somewhat depressed manner, flopping herself to sit on the bunk in the spare cabin that served as hers and Will’s during their stay aboard the infamous Black Pearl. Though they were not yet married, they had to share a cabin due to the fact that there just wasn’t enough room aboard the ship. The pirates didn’t really give a damn whether they shared a bed or not, but now with Norrington onboard they’d have to be careful, even though they had nothing to be ashamed of. Will was always a perfect gentleman, and they really did just share a bed to sleep on. Even though Jack had, of course, made sly cracks about the matter.

The cabin was rather small, housing a bed large enough for two, a small table beside it and a medium sized drawer for various items and clothes. The evening was starting to slowly darken and the natural light coming from the slated windows soon wasn’t enough, so Elizabeth had lit some candles on the bedside table to illuminate the room. The candlelight flickered on the walls, enhancing the browns and blacks of the ship’s timber. The cabin was small to be sure, but it had a certain unique air to it that Elizabeth found surprisingly comforting, even romantic.

Will was not with her, probably still on deck discussing with the Commodore or chatting with Jack in his quarters. Elizabeth had stayed with him for a long time, but had finally wanted some time for herself after everything that had happened in the afternoon.

Idly tracing patterns on the simple, wiry bedspread with her finger, Elizabeth frowned unconsciously as she thought back at the discussion with Jack that had in the end almost bordered on an argument about the Spanish pirate, Captain Gabriela Delgado. Elizabeth’s sometimes rather quick temper had been sparked when Jack had brusquely announced that he would do nothing in order to stop or deter the villainous woman. His thoughtless way off completely shrugging off the matter had angered her, prompting her to face him. After his pointed reply, Jack had just swaggered away with that characteristic swaying gait of his, and Elizabeth’s still smouldering ire had been directed at the next best thing; one of Jack’s trusted crewmembers. Her very own cousin, as well as one of her best friends.

Elizabeth shut her eyes in embarrassment for a moment as she recalled the downright childish way she had behaved, pestering her own cousin to use her influence on the scruffy Captain and talk some sense into him. The way her cousin had arched her brows at her display of the “pampered little girl not getting her way”-scene had finally been the action that made her realize just how juvenile she sounded at that moment. Elizabeth shook her head in self-disgust. Usually, she felt even somewhat proud of considered being more mature than her near twenty years of life, but that moment right there had effectively crashed that belief. Maybe she wasn’t as mature as she had liked to believe.

Now, as she had properly given thought to the whole incident, she saw that both Jack and her dear cousin were right. They were pirates, and they had no obligations to their country or the navy. And it was also true that Captain Delgado was indeed, like Jack had pointed out, none of his or his crew’s problem. She was, first and foremost, the navy’s problem. It wasn’t the pirate’s job to catch other pirates sacking British settlements and ships.

They had just accidentally happened to sail across the Commodore and saved their lives, and that had been more than enough from their part. Now, how many pirates were willing to do such thing in the first place? Jack and his crew might be pirates, but they were good people that didn’t just leave men to die on a whim, unlike the other pirate Captain. And, Elizabeth concurred, Jack was correct about the map as well. All neither of them knew was that such thing existed, and that the Spaniards were obviously willing to do anything to acquire it. But they did not know where that map actually lead, where was it originally from, and who had the half the Spaniards searched for. And English trader as the only clue was as good as searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

Elizabeth sat up straight, exhaling slowly. She needed to apologize for her behaviour from her cousin and probably from Jack too, even thought Elizabeth was quite certain Jack most likely didn’t think much of her miffed words.

The door to their cabin suddenly opened, after a quick knock. Elizabeth smiled as Will stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” she said softly with a smile as Will came up to her, sitting down beside her on the bed.

“Hey,” he said back just as softly, bending his head to give her a light kiss on her lips. Will smiled as they broke apart, asking, “So, did you manage to think things through?”

Elizabeth frowned. “How did you know that?”

Will smiled again. “You looked like you needed to figure some things out when you left the deck.”

“You know me too well,” Elizabeth replied with a small smile of her own, before sobering. “Yes, I think I did...”

Will nodded, waiting for her to go on. When she didn’t, he spoke up. “It’s a complicated situation.”

“It is,” Elizabeth agreed quietly. “I just wish there was something we could do to help.”

“I know,” Will said. “It’s important that this woman is stopped before she does any more damage. But getting mad at Jack won’t help the matter any. It’s not his problem, and you know that,” he reminded gently.

Elizabeth nodded. “I know, I know. I just got angry when he dismissed the matter so quickly. But I do understand now that this Delgado is not any of his worry.”

“Or your cousins,” Will added.

Elizabeth cringed a little. “Or my cousins,” she agreed. “I’ll apologize to both her and Jack later.”

Will nodded. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “I’m sure the Commodore will do all he can to stop Captain Delgado as soon as we reach Port Royal again.”

Elizabeth said nothing, but just smiled at this. Will was really making an effort to befriend Commodore Norrington, and for that she was grateful. Things would run so much smoother if they could put aside their differences and be friends. It was somewhat difficult for both of the men, but at least they were trying.

“I’m sure he will,” Elizabeth voiced after a minute, and grinned. “Jack sure wasn’t too happy about taking them aboard.”

Will laughed. “No, he certainly was not! He and the Commodore are not exactly best friends. But any man worse than Jack would have left them to die,” he finished quietly.

“He’s a good man, just like you said all those months ago. A pirate maybe, but a good man nonetheless,” Elizabeth smiled at her fiancé. “Speaking of him, have you noticed how close he and my cousin have become over time?”

Will raised a brow, looking at now grinning Elizabeth. He had his own suspicions and observations about the two pirates, but this far he’d dismissed them as imagination. “What do you mean?” he asked her to elaborate.

Elizabeth shrugged a little. Oh, nothing big, just these small things that I’ve noticed. For example, I’ve seen the way she looks at Jack from time to time. When she thinks its safe, so to say, that nobody sees her do so. And there is this... connection between them, it’s hard to explain really. But something is there alright, even if they won’t admit it.”

As Will considered her words, he started to think about his own observations. The small, casual touches here and there, the unconscious way the pirates nearly always positioned themselves close to one another, and lastly, Jack’s subtle protectiveness towards the strong willed woman. It wasn’t apparent to a casual observer, but Will now recalled the times Jack’s eyes had sought out the female pirate, as if reassuring himself that she was there, safe and sound. And of course, the way Jack had stepped up to her and fended off the drunken man in that tavern in Trinidad, even though she could have handled that herself. As Will thought about it now, the seemingly casual, very Jack Sparrow-like action suddenly got a deeper meaning.

A slow smile pulled at Will’s lips. “I think you might be down to something, Elizabeth,” he said, telling her about his thoughts.

Elizabeth grinned. “And, my dear cousin could have bored holes on the head of that tavern wench with that glare of hers. I daresay she was jealous.”

“So, do you think they ever get anything done about this?” Will asked curiously.

Elizabeth thought of this, considering the pair. “I think that if anyone, besides us of course,” she quickly added, “Can make things work, it’s those two. They are not so different than one might think.”

“Even with Jack’s apparent…” Will paused, searching for the correct word, “...zeal for women?”

Elizabeth just grinned. “Now Will, give it some time. I have a feeling Jack may yet surprise us all.”

“I guess stranger things have happened,” Will replied lightly, wrapping his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “You’re probably right. After all, what else would you expect from Captain Jack Sparrow than the unexpected?”

* * *

You tap your finger absently on your chin, deep in thought as you let your gaze wander over the masses of water, seemingly deep blue in the darkening evening. It was your turn to take the dogwatch, and your shift was nearing its end. It would soon be eight o’clock, and Mr. Cotton was supposed to relieve you after that.

However, no matter how hard you tried to keep your mind clear and focused on your task at hand, you couldn’t keep your thoughts from wandering off. Ever since the discussion some hours ago with Norrington, Jack, Will and Elizabeth about the Damned Spirit and Captain Delgado, all sorts of thoughts and ideas have been running around your head. What was so important to Delgado that she was willing to coldly kill everyone that got in her way? Was that damn piece of map really worth all the destruction and mayhem she’d already caused?

Sighing, you rub your temple tiredly. On top of everything, you had a feeling that Elizabeth was a bit pissed at you for not speaking with Jack after the conversation. And speaking of the man, what the hell was going on with Jack? You hadn’t failed to see that fleeting look of surprise on his face as the name Gabriela Delgado was mentioned. Not to mention that when you had asked him about her, Jack’s face was way too casual. After having spent so many months aboard the Pearl, his mannerisms and expressions had become very familiar to you over the time. In fact, you were probably one of the few ones that could read him the best, just as he in turn read you. But anyway, the point was that Jack was surely keeping things to himself about this Delgado. You were loath to admit it, but you were dying to know the past between Jack and the woman.

Had Jack met the Spaniard before? Had they had an affair, maybe? The possibility of Jack and Delgado being old lovers suddenly makes your stomach sink, and you scold yourself of being childish and ridiculous to feel that way. Knowing Jack reputation with women, it would be no wonder if they had. Nevertheless, the thought makes you dislike the woman even more than you already do.

You shake your head slightly in thought. There were just too many bloody questions and too few answers to them.

Suddenly, a weight lands heavily on your left shoulder and you startle, a surprised yell escaping your mouth.

“Grub!” Parrot croaks, its pretty sharp talons pinching the skin of your shoulder.

You press your palm over your heart that beats rapidly from the scare the bird gave you. “Bloody devil bird,” you hiss sourly, glaring at Parrot.

Parrot croaks a little, rubbing its blunt beak over the side of your head lightly, as if asking for forgiveness. “Grub,” it repeats in a bit quieter volume, cocking its head in a birdlike fashion.

You narrow your eyes and exhale in aggravation, but a smile threatens to spread on your lips at the bird’s antics. Sometimes Parrot can be really irritating, even downright hazardous with its sudden (and rather unstable) flights from place to place. Or giving people near heart attacks like the one you just received. But from time to time, it also managed be somewhat endearing.

“I don’t have any grub for you, silly bird,” you reply, lightly scratching the bird under its beak with your finger. You once made a mistake of giving Parrot a piece of your hardtack, and now it begs for food from you when it gets the chance.

Parrot makes a small croak that sounds distinctively like disappointment, and you laugh a little. Just then, Mr. Cotton comes up to you, ready to take his shift. You smile at the old man; he’s really one of the crewmembers that you like the best, aside Anamaria and Gibbs.

“Good evening, Mr. Cotton,” you greet him, and Cotton smiles at you in return, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Parrot spreads its wings and hops over to sit on Cotton’s shoulder. After bidding byes to the pair, you start to wander off.

Slowly trudging towards the stern of the ship, you look at the navy men littering the deck. The night was warm, and luckily there were no signs of rain in sight. Lucky for Norrington’s men that is, since there was no where else they could sleep but on the deck.

The Pearl was, compared to other vessels, a fair sized ship. There were the crew quarters which any other ships did not have, forcing the crew to sleep on the deck. Then there was of course the Captain’s quarters, and two spare cabins. One of them was yours and Anamaria’s, and the second was currently occupied by Will and Lizzie. You just hoped there would be no rain until you reached Port Royal, or there would be some trouble finding dry places to sleep for the mariners. Oh well, no use worrying about that now.

As you walk past Mullroy and Murtogg, you smile as you overhear them bickering about something again. Those two were really an amusing pair; they seemingly disagreed about everything, but they were still obviously best buddies.

You spot Gibbs some distance away giving telling Matelot and Crimp something, and they proceed to climb up the rigging to secure the sail.

“Evening, Gibbs,” you say cheerily as you reach the older man’s side.

“’Ello, lass,” he replies with a smile. “Done with yer watch?”

“Yep, and saw not a single thing. Cotton took over a moment ago.”

“Aye, doubt that nothin’ be happenin’ tonight. We’re so out of the way nobody can find us ‘ere other than in accident,” Gibbs muses.

You nod in agreement, only now noticing that the majority of the Pearl’s crew are missing. “Where is everybody?”

Gibbs hums a little in amusement. “Prolly back in the crew quarters playin’ cards. They think I don’t know about that, but I wasn’t born yesterday,” he laughs.

Gambling was forbidden on ships since it easily provoked disagreements among the crew, but sometimes the men indulged themselves with a friendly game of cards, betting some of their pay. But luckily the Pearl’s crew were not ones to get easily into arguments, and if Anamaria was there (as you thought for sure she was) she’d very efficiently get them under control in no time.

“So why don’t you go join ‘em?” You ask with a smirk, raising a brow. “I hear tell that you’re a fair card player yourself.”

Gibbs looks at you with incredulous expression. “Fair? Only fair? I’m one of the best! Who’s been sayin’ I’m only fair?”

You smile. “Do you really have to ask?”

Gibbs nods, eyes narrowing slightly in realization. “Jack. The man can’t keep his own concentration on the cards long enough to actually win and he says I’m a ‘fair card player’! Ha!”

You can’t help but to grin at Gibbs’ rant. Then you suddenly remember your earlier promise to yourself to speak with Jack. “Speaking of him, is he in his quarters?”

“Aye,” Gibbs nods, “But I wouldn’t be goin’ there if I were you, lass! The Cap’n isn’t in a very fine mood. I think he’s more cross about the Commodore bein’ ‘ere than he let’s out...”

You arch your brow. “Is that so...? Well Gibbs, it’s a very good thing then that you are not me, isn’t it?” you smirk and wink at the older man, sauntering determinately towards the stairs leading below deck. You know just the thing that surely makes Jack feel at least a bit better.

“Either yer braver than I give ye credit fer or just plain self-destructive!” Gibbs shouts after you, and you throw him a smile over your shoulder.

“I guess I like living dangerously,” you quip as you reach the stairs, starting to descend them.

Descending down to the second floor, you head for the hold. Slowly trudging thought the familiar, narrow hallways of the ship, inhaling the slightly wood-smelling air. Finally reaching the hold, you step in while squinting your eyes in the dim light. A grin breaks on your lips as you spot the goods you were searching for; the various barrels and boxes of rum.

Carefully making your way towards the rum, you dodge different crates and bags as you go. Crouching down over one the rum crates, you lift the wooden lid off and set it aside. Grabbing the neck of one bottle, you pull it out of the box, examining it. The bottle was long necked, made from brown glass and hold about two pints of rum inside. Nodding your approval, you take two bottles from the crate and place the lid back over the crate. Satisfied, you get up with one bottle in each hand and make your way out of the hold, back to the stairs. Now, you and Captain Sparrow would have a little discussion about the mysterious Gabriela Delgado...

* * *

Stopping before the door of Jack’s quarters, you glance around the deck. The mariners are gathered in little groups, talking quietly. Gibbs, Matelot and Crimp have vanished, probably gone to play cards as well, but Cotton, Parrot and keep watch in the bow with Duncan, who’s obviously joined them while you were getting the rum.

Rapping your knuckles on one of the doors of Jack’s quarters, you hide the bottles behind your back and wait.

“Who is it?” Jack’s rough voice replies, slightly muffled by the door. Despite that, you can hear the irritation in his voice, and raise your brow in surprise. You haven’t heard that tone in his voice for a long time. He must be really irked. Oh well, you’re not about to back down now.

Getting over your initial astonishment, you manage to answer. “Just me.”

Jack doesn’t reply, and you think for a moment he’s not about to let you in. Narrowing your eyes, you glare at the door. Finally, you hear a faint sound of an empty bottle rolling on the floor and a smothered cuss from Jack. You grin impishly, imagining Jack almost tripping on his empty bottles.

You wipe the grin off your face as Jack yanks the right door open, and damn near bite your tongue off at the sight. Holy hell, you think. Jack is standing there, looking at you curiously with those beautiful dark eyes, clad only in his bandanna, the white shirt with its strings untied, leaving a good portion of his tanned chest bare (you draw in a slightly shaky breath at this sight.) His dark breeches, the sash and belt around his waist are the only other articles he has on. He’s also barefooted, having removed his long, brown boots. The light from the cabin illuminates his figure from behind, glinting slightly in the trinkets on his hair. You notice that his eyes look almost black rather than brown.

In the name of all that’s holy, you swear you’ve never seen any man look so incredibly sexy and handsome than Jack Sparrow does right now.

As if sensing your thoughts, Jack props his right forearm against the side of the still closed door, leaning slightly towards it and smiling a small smile. You’ve always thought the phrase “sparkling eyes” was just a figure of speech, but Jack’s eyes really do sparkle at the moment.

“Well darling, are you going to just stand there staring at me or would you like to let us know what is it that you want?” Jack drawls with an amused smile, his voice low and so damned sexy.

Pulling yourself together and shaking off your little observations, you give him a quick smile.

“Actually, Gibbs told me you’d been a bit cranky, soo… I brought something to cheer you up.”

“Is that so?” Jack replies, sly grin pulling the corners of his lips upwards as his gaze slides appreciatively up and down your body. “I think I’m cheering up already, luv...”

You swallow as he scans your body with his eyes. Composing yourself quickly, you shake your head in amusement. It just figures that Jack would think of something naughty.

“You’re such a gutter mind, Jack.”

Darting his wandering eyes back to meet yours, Jack grins broadly. “Just stating the facts, that’s all.” Gazing you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he goes on. “I knew you’d warm up to me eventually. Took a bit longer than I expected though, but obviously there isn’t a single woman out there that can resist my charms,” Jack grins very self-assuredly.

You raise your brows in amused incredulity. “Aren’t we full of ourselves tonight, Captain Sparrow! But what about Anamaria and Elizabeth? They seem to be resisting you just fine...” you trail off with a smirk.

The grin vanishes from Jack’s lips at your comment, and he sniffs a little in distaste, his kohl brimmed eyes narrowing for a moment before widening again. You watch his reaction curiously. Jack’s facial expressions are so unique and variable that he’s almost developed it into a new art form. His face is always so animated and expressive, except when he doesn’t want to give anything away. That’s another extremity of his; he also knows how to keep his face perfectly expressionless and shield his true intentions. Those are just one small part of Jack Sparrow’s one of a kind idiosyncrasies that make him such an interesting and fascinating persona that he is.

“Anamaria is different, she doesn’t count. And as for Elizabeth,” Jack shrugs, the baubles in his hair jingling slightly. “I’m afraid there’s something wrong with that girl,” he says, looking sorry. His expression reminds you of the time when Jack told Lizzie their “relationship” would never have worked before pulling you off the bloody battlement with him a year ago.

“If she prefers eunuchs to real men such as me, she must be ill somehow. It’s tragic, really. Then again, she also has a disturbing habit of destroying perfectly fine rum,” Jack goes on, shuddering at the mere idea of Lizzie burning the rum. “And that makes me even more certain that she has to be sick in one way or another. So she’s really no great loss.”

Your concentration faltered slightly at the point where Jack shrugged, causing his shirt to slip slightly and reveal more of his tanned chest to your undeniably greedy eyes. Hell. It should be illegal to possess a body like that. It’s downright hazardous in all its gorgeousness! Tearing your eyes off of his chest, you lift your eyes back to his, hoping you weren’t staring too noticeably.

You almost startle as you raise your eyes to meet his and see the intensity of the gaze Jack’s giving you, his eyes black in the dim evening. You find yourself unable to look away from their enchanting depths. As you stand there, you actually believe the saying of eyes being the gateways to ones soul. You lose all comprehension of time as you stare at each other, not knowing if you’ve stood there for a minute or an hour. You catch something flickering in Jack’s gaze for a brief moment, but it passed before you could make out what exactly. You absently wonder what he sees in your eyes. Suddenly, a small feel of dread creeps into your mind. Did you just made a foolish mistake in getting caught in his gaze and lay your whole soul bared before him?

Finally Jack smiles. It’s a small, slightly lopsided smile that seems almost... tender? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile quite like that before. Maybe that’s the reason why it makes your insides warm and your heart skip a beat. You’re so captivated by that small smile you don’t even remember to scold yourself for feeling like some swoony school girl with her first crush.

“So...” Jack speaks up first, his voice somewhat huskier than normally. “What’ve you got behind your back?”

Feeling both relieved and saddened that the intense moment between you passed, you smile slightly and bring the bottles in front of you. “I thought some of this would lift your spirits.”

Jack looks at the bottles, straightening his stance as his brows lift and eyes widen slightly. The familiar grin breaks upon his features. “You blessed woman!” he exclaims happily, and before you even realize what happens, Jack reaches out and wraps his long fingers around your wrist carefully. Just as quickly he pulls you closer and pushes you past him inside the cabin as he closes the door behind you. After this, Jack places his warm hand on your shoulders, starting to gently push you forward, towards the table in the middle of the quarters. You stop next to it, amused at his obvious eagerness.

With grand, exaggerated gestures, Jack pulls out of chair for you, and just as grandly sweeps his had over it, fingers twirling. “Do sit down, luv,” he grins charmingly, and you can’t help but to smile as you do so.

You place the bottles on the table as Jack seats himself on the other chair to your right, few feet separating you. Lazily, he lifts his legs and props his bare feet on the table like he has a habit of doing. “Alright luv, lift my spirits, will you?” he grins.

You laugh a little, carefully shoving one of the bottles so that it slides over the table towards Jack. He catches the neck of the bottle deftly, lifting it and uncorking it with his other hand. Small smirk pulls your lips as you watch Jack take a long swig of the bottle, draining a quarter of the liquor. You yank the cork off your own bottle and take a small sip, appreciating the warm feeling the rum gives you as it slides down your throat. You glance quickly around Jack’s surprisingly tidy (even with a couple of empty bottles here and there) quarters; it’s dim and lit with candles like usually when it gets dark, giving it a very homey feeling.

Jack lowers the bottle finally, swallowing and looking at you. “Well, now that me spirits are somewhat lifted, why don’t you tell me what’s botherin’ you?”

You quirk your brows. “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”

Jack smiles. “You just have this look when you’re troubled.”

“Oh?” you say with a small laugh.

“Let’s have it,” Jack orders in a tone that brooks no arguments, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he takes another, smaller drink from the bottle.

You absent-mindedly fiddle with your own bottle resting on the table, drumming your fingers silently on the glass as you look back at Jack with a thoughtful frown. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened this afternoon with that Spanish galleon…” you start slowly, watching his reaction.

Jack raises his brows so slightly it’s more like a twitch, his seemingly boneless posture tensing just a bit. Very subtle signs, but you have a feeling he isn’t going to like what your about to ask him.

“And...?” he prods with a wary tone, shifting his eyes on the bottle as he says this.

Okay, out with it. “Do you know this Captain Delgado, Jack?”

Jack’s eyes dart back and fort for a moment, never looking at you. You wait patiently, taking a bigger swig of your bottle. As you set the bottle back on the table, you meet his gaze. Jack’s face is nonchalant in that familiar way that doesn’t give anything away. You raised you brow expectantly.

“I told you before that I knew of her,” he answers cleverly so that he really doesn’t answer at all.

“Yes, but I don’t necessarily believe you. I’m not sayin’ you lie, just that you’re not telling everything,” you look at the bottle while you say this, and then tilt your head to look back at him.

Jack holds you gaze for a moment, and the looks back on the bottle in his hand, sighing softly. “Alright. I know her. Or at least I did. A very long, long time ago...”

You frown a little at his dispassionate tone, cocking your head a little to the side and waiting for him to go on. But he doesn’t. Instead, he takes another swig of rum. You avert your gaze and follow the fines lines of the wooden table though you don’t really concentrate on watching them. Well, now you have your answer. So Jack does know Delgado after all, just like you suspected earlier. But your curiosity hasn’t been satisfied, far from it. Now, more than anything you want to know what happened between Jack and Delgado. But is it really none of your business? Obviously it’s a matter Jack doesn’t care talking about. A wonder, really, that he allowed you to know even this much.

You lift your head slightly, discreetly watching the flickering candlelight play over his face. It casts brief shadows over his features and after a second again illuminates them. You notice that his eyes are again a shade of deep chocolate brown. You now understand when some people say that the candlelight is the best light; in the soft glow of the candles, Jack looks even more attractive than normally.

“Alright, let’s hear the rest,” Jack says suddenly in amused tone, looking at you with a small smirk.

“What rest?” you ask.

“Your questions, of course,” Jack answers, and the smirk widens a little. You blink, opening your mouth to speak, but you can’t think of anything.

Jack’s smirk morphs into a grin, his eyes glinting. “I know ye better than to think you’d let it go that easily! You can be very...” he pauses, pursing his lips slightly as he searches for the word.

“Determined?” you offer.

“Pestering was the word I was going for,” Jack grins, and you roll your eyes.

“Hmm. I guess I am pestering, then,” you finally agree, shrugging your shoulders a little.

“’Ey, don’t get me wrong, darling. In point of fact, it’s one of your endearing qualities,” Jack says, gazing at you playfully.

You laugh out loud at this. “You’re daft!” you chuckle after your laughter dies down.

Jack smirks pleasantly. “Aye, for some reason I get told that every now and then.”

You smile at him, fully enjoying the moment of levity and the careless banter between the two of you. You’re loath to break the light mood, but the bloody pirate woman comes back to haunt your thoughts. Lowering your gaze back to your bottle that seems to have become some sort of focus point, you start from the at least semi-neutral question. “Where did you meet her?”

Jack frowns a little in thought as he takes a sip of the rum. “Somewhere in Puerto Rico, if memory serves,” he finally answers, giving you a slightly sheepish look. “It was a long time ago, and I had a little something stronger than water to drink that night...”

“Of course,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “So when did this happen?”

Jack’s expression goes sombre and his knuckles turn slightly white as he clutches the neck of his bottle that’s he’s staring at. You frown worriedly at his reaction. Was that a bad question?

“It was... maybe a year after the mutiny,” Jack mumbles in reply, and you wince.

Yes, it was a very bad question apparently. Barbossa’s betrayal, the mutiny and the marooning were still somewhat sore subjects to Jack, and you can understand that perfectly. Those wounds would probably never fully heal. They’d get scabbed and fade in time, but they would still leave scars that wouldn’t fade even with all the time in the world. You knew very what that was like; you had few of your own scars to bear.

You keep silent for a moment, thinking about this. Jack had met Delgado ten years ago then, since the mutiny happened eleven years ago. You wonder how old this Delgado was, and was she already a Captain when Jack met up with her?

“Was she a Captain even then?” you voice your thought out loud.

Jack shakes his head, the faint jingling of the beads in his hair filling the silence. “No. Well, not that I remember, anyway. I think she was a first mate. But that ship was there even then, Espíritu Maldito… A surprise really that she’s even seaworthy anymore, the word around went that she looked to be in such poor shape it was moments away from foundering.”

“Right. Norrington did mention her being in bad condition,” you nod. “But why did you claim you didn’t know her, earlier?” You look at him expectantly, but he just smiles slightly in return, seeming a bit saddened.

“Those aren’t the most pleasant memories of mine, and best left in the past, luv. No need to start tearing open old wounds for nothing…” he says in subdued manner, his eyes pleading you to let it be.

You think about this, and realize that he’s right. Jack and his previous encounter with Delgado have nothing to do with the current situation. You would have loved to know what did Delgado want from Jack (besides the obvious, you think is distaste) and had Jack heard about her after their first meeting. But, you’ll just have to keep your questions to yourself and curb your incessant curiosity.

“Yeah, you’re right, Jack,” you say with a small smile.

Jack smirks, as if reading your mind and knowing you’re still curious. “I’d have to have a lot more to drink before telling you anything else,” he says nonchalantly, and taking a long swig of rum as demonstration, draining the rest of the liquor in his stomach. You still have a good half of the bottle left.

Wishing to go back to that same, care-free mood you had before this Delgado-discussion, you grin broadly at Jack, who raises his brows in questioning but slightly wary way.

You lean forward in your chair. “How much more...?” you ask mischievously with the impish grin.

Jack could hear the challenge in your voice and see it in your eyes. He chuckles, a slow grin spreading on his lips as his dark eyes glint. He mimics your actions and drops his feet on the floor, leaning his face closer to yours. Now there is only about ten inches of space between your faces.

“Why don’t we find out, luv,” he drawls in low voice that caresses your ears, matching your grin.

You raise your brows, smirking confidently as you stare into his eyes. “Alright, then. Bring it on, Captain.”

Now, this could turn out to be very interesting...

* * * * *

CHAPTER 7 - There's No Honour In Raisins

Beautiful. Soulful. So very, very beautiful...

You and Jack stare at each other in the eyes unblinkingly, your faces about three inches apart. Once again you decide that Jack Sparrow has the most beautiful, chocolate brown eyes you've ever seen. The black kohl around his lids only enhances the deep brown of them.

You realize that you're more than a little tipsy, and that's no wonder really; both you and Jack have been consuming rum quite steadily since the little challenge of yours. That was maybe an hour ago. Well, Jack was not one to turn down a challenge, so here you are sitting now, both of you already more or less inebriated.

You're doing your best to ignore the smug grin gracing Jack's lips as you concentrate on staring at him in the eyes. Your eyes are starting to get dry and stinging, but still you won't blink. You're not about to lose this time.

Suddenly you feel Jack's finger quickly run down the side of your neck, and you jump slightly in surprise and blink. "Damn it, Jack!"

Jack laughs, grinning broadly in victory. "And again you lose, luv."

"You cheated!" you argue incredulously with wide eyes. Undeniably, Jack's finger sliding down your neck felt very pleasant, but losing again really smarts you.

If possible, Jack's grin only broadens. "Pirate. Who says we have to play fair, hmm?"

"That was mean," you claim stubbornly, narrowing your eyes. In your drunken state, that probably doesn't look too intimidating.

"You blink, you drink, and that's the rule. Come on, down the hatch," Jack grins with a slight slur in his voice, shoving the large bottle in front of you.

With a sigh, you take the bottle and take a drink, gulping down few mouthfuls of rum. Lowering the bottle and swallowing, you set the bottle on the floor beside you as the liquor warms your insides. You and Jack both sit on the floor, next to his bed. How you got there, you don't really remember anymore, it was sometime after Jack had gotten some more rum a while back.

"I still don't know why you insisted on playin' this stupid game," you grouse.

Jack had some odd minutes ago had a supposedly wonderful idea of having a staring contest, and the loser has to take a drink. So far, you've already lost three rounds, but only because Jack has a damn unfair advantage in the game! You stare at his gorgeous eyes so intensely that he manages to tickle or touch you so that it startles you and makes you blink.

"You're just a sore loser, darling," Jack replies with a smirk. "Alright, I'll give you a one last chance."

You smirk as you recall Jack's earlier words. Indeed, whoever said you'd have to play fair? As you both stay still and stare at one another in the eyes again. You think about what would be the best tactic to choose.

But of course, you think mischievously to yourself, the one that's guaranteed to get Jack's attention.

Tilting your head ever so slightly to the side while keeping your gaze firmly on his, you give him the best come-hither look you can manage. You pout a bit, and then part your lips slightly and run the tip of your tongue over your lower lip in slow, suggestive manner. Sure enough, this action draws Jack's eyes down on your lips like a magnet; his eyes widen slightly and he blinks.

"Yes!" you yell victoriously, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. "You lose!"

Jack stares at you for a moment, eyes wide in that adorable, drunken manner. Then he blinks slowly, as if coming out of some stupor. "Now that! …was mean," he finally says. "'Twas absolutely cruel."

You just grin widely, grabbing the rum bottle and offering it to Jack. "You said it yourself; who says we have to play fair?"

Jack studies you for a moment, and a slow smile spreads on his lips. "You're catching up, luv," he smirks with low voice, and takes the bottle from you.

He takes a long swig, gulping down the brown alcohol. He drinks and drinks, the liquid level of the bottle decreasing with every gulp he takes. Your eyes are drawn to his throat that's now exposed properly, watching his Adam's apple move up and down with each swallow. You swallow too, your mouth suddenly dry. Damn, the man even has a sexy throat, not to mention neck. You forcefully tear your stare off of his skin as your imagination takes off. The alcohol is crashing down your defences and inhibitions, and you mind creates delicious visions of you reaching over and pressing your lips on the hollow of his throat, before trailing kisses over to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, gently sucking on the skin there… Whoa! Okay, control time, control… You swallow again, trying to banish such ideas. You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

Jack finally lowers the bottle, having drained the entire thing. Noticing your blush, he frowns a little, squinting his eyes. "You all right, luv? You're flushed."

No, I'm not. "Uh, yeah, fine, I'm just peachy. It's the rum," you stammer, smiling.

Jack purses his lips, and then grins wickedly. "Ah, admit it, you were thinking about something naughty. Why don't you share and I'll see what I can do about it…" he drawls while leaning a bit ahead, grinning suggestively.

You smirk shrewdly. "Yeah, I bet you'd love that."

Jack's attention is intently focused on you as he extends his hand and slowly slides his palm to rest on the side of your neck, his long fingers twining into your hair as his thumb strokes your jaw line lazily. His palm is warm against your neck; his fingers slightly callused but soft at the same time. It's a simple touch, but the sensations it creates in you are enough to make an expectant shiver run down your spine. It's the rum, you remind yourself, but realize immediately how feeble that sounds.

"Maybe I would, sweetness," Jack says huskily, his heated gaze fixed on you as his fingers slowly caress your skin.

His low voice causes more shivers to run through you, and suddenly you feel nervous. There's no question that you wouldn't want this to happen, but you're still not so far gone that you wouldn't have your doubts. You're both drunk enough, and people sometimes do very stupid things when intoxicated. Jack is letting you understand he wants this now, but will he feel the same way about it in the morning? You could end up ruining the wonderful friendship you have with him with a drunken one-night stand. You couldn't handle it if things would turn awkward between you.

Jack waits for your reply, any sign for him to go on, but he obviously sees your hesitation. Smiling slightly, he speaks up, slurring the ends of his words. "Now luv, this is the point where you either respond or slap me… personally, I'm not too fond of the latter option but I s'pose I may deserve it."

Despite everything, you cannot hold back a small laugh. "Yeah, but I promised you back then on Tortuga that I wouldn't slap you…" you say quietly and smile a little at the memory of Jack, you and Will arriving to Tortuga a year ago, and Jack getting slapped by the two whores whose names you don't care to remember.

Jack grins as well. "Ah yes… the first woman ever to do so."

You smile, a little sadly. You don't want to hurt Jack, but you just can't do this, not yet. With a small, inaudible sigh, you raise you own palm and lay it over Jack's that's still resting on your neck. Gently you lift his palm off your neck and entwine your fingers together, squeezing his hand a little. Jack looks down at your joined, equally grimy hands, your smaller one next to his larger hand. He squeezes back, rubbing his thumb fleeting over your skin as he looks at you with a small smile and a barely perceptible nod, letting you know its okay. You smile at him, both in thanks and the way you just communicated wordlessly.

"D'you know what we need now?" Jack suddenly breaks the silence, looking at you with a funny half-smile.

You raise your brows in curiosity. "What do we need now?"

Slow grin breaks upon Jack's lips, the golden teeth glinting as they catch their share of the candlelight. "More rum!"

* * *

"So…" Jack slurs after taking another hearty swig of rum. "Have I ever told you how this peculiar tribe once made me their chief?"

You chuckle, grinning broadly. "Yes, Jack, you've told me that 'bout a dozen times over the past year… The firsth time bein' on the island, r'member?" your own speech has by now started to slur, too.

Jack blinks, twice, a thoughtful frown on his face as he tries to jog his alcohol hazed mind. "Ah yes, the island," he suddenly grins in recollection. "Good times…"

You snort. "What was so good 'bout it?"

Jack shrugs unsteadily. "Lots o' rum and bonnie gals," he grins.

You smirk. "Until one o' the gals burned the rum. And it wasn't me, in case you forgot."

Jack makes a resentful face. "You just had to remind me…"

You just chuckle, taking a drink of your bottle. Swallowing, you suddenly notice for the first time how just many empty bottles litter the floor around you. You cannot have drunk that much. There has to be at least closer to ten bottles, maybe a few more.

"'Ave we honestly drunk all those?" you ask with incredulous expression, pointing with your finger.

Jack's head jerks back marginally in a comical way before he slants his head down to follow your gaze. His dark eyes dark from bottle to bottle, and then he lifts his back to look at you with a puzzled expression. "But that's not even a lot."

You can't help but to laugh, his expression is so adoringly confused. Your laughter just makes him look even more baffled.

"I'm sorry…" you manage to gasp between the fits of laughter. "You just…" you can finish since a new wave of giggles interrupts you. Oh yeah, you're drunk alright! You rarely giggle.

A sudden sting on your right hip makes you stop laughing. "OW! Whatta bloody… did you just pinch me?!"

Jack's eyes widen comically. "Why, I'd never!" he says innocently. Way too innocently.

"You did!" you say, your eyes wide as well. "You bloody cad, that hurt," you whine, rubbing the abused spot with your fingers to ebb the stinging.

"That'll teach you to laugh at Cap'n Jack Sparrow," Jack grins, taking a swig of the liquor.

You sneer at him, but he just raises his brows in amusement. Blowing air from your nostrils in aggravated manner, you mutter under your breath, "You dork…"

"Aw, luv," Jack croons, voice low as he wraps his left arm around your shoulders, pulling your closer to his side. "I may be a dork sometimes, but admit it. You still like me," he grins smugly, squeezing your left shoulder gently.

You try to keep on to your annoyance, but find it very hard to do so when Jack keeps looking at you with that goofy grin. You roll your eyes and elbow him lightly on his side. "You really are a dork," you say quietly, a smile breaking out.

Jack chuckles, a deep, pleasant sound you could listen for a damned eternity. "I knew you loved me," he finally says confidently.

For a moment you just sit there side by side in a comfortable silence, only the occasional small squeaks of the wood breaking the quietness.

"By the way…" you start quietly after a moment. "Did you notice how buddy buddy Will and Norrie were being? Innit that a bit funny?"

"Thank heavens," Jack replies, sounding somewhat relieved. "I thought I was the only one who thought it was a tad odd."

You nod in agreement. "Aye, Lizzie keeps sayin' that Norrie has changed and blah blah blah, but I believe than only when I see it…"

"Maybe someone should tell the whelp that hanging around that fellow is nothing but bad news. Look at what happened to all of his ships!" Jack says, his right hand holding the rum bottle making a large circle while he speaks.

“Though, those weren’t really his fault…” You say, and grin. "You're not lettin' that 'whelp' go, are you?"

"'S better than your 'sugarlump'," Jack retorts squarely.

"Hey hey hey! No belittling the sugarlump!" you protest, wagging your fore finger at him. "First o' all, that was Lizzie's name originally, and besides, it's a priceless name! Gets a rise out of Will faster than any whelp in the world!"

Jack just grins at your rant. "You really do look adorable when you get all riled up, luv…"

“Why, you little…” you pause abruptly, unable to think of the perfect subjective in your inebriated state. So you end up blurting out the first thing that for some (very odd) reason comes to your mind, “Raisin brain…!”

Jack stares down at you with wide, unbelieving eyes. “That’s the best you can come up with? Raisin brain?!”

You wave with your hand dismissively. “Okay, I’m smashed, alright!” you defend yourself. Then, you frown. “And just wha’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Jack repeats incredulously. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it! The raisins!”

You narrow your eyes in thought. No, still don’t get it. “Huh…?”

Jack sighs almost impatiently, setting down the rum bottle and drawing his arms off your shoulders. He pulls back slightly so he can look at you properly. “It’s the raisins! Haven’t you ever though about it?” Jack asks ardently, and you bite your bottom lip slightly in puzzlement.

“I don’t usually think ‘bout raisins too much. I ain’t too fond of ‘em,” you reply slowly.

“Exactly!” Jack says enthusiastically, pointing his forefinger at you. “And you know why? Because, in essence, what raisins really are… they’re just a sad bunch… of humiliated grapes, savvy?” he finishes, making small circles with his hands and raising his brows at you, waiting for your reply.

You blink. “Humiliated grapes…?”

“Aye, humiliated grapes. Think about it!” Jack goes on, waving his right hand in quick motion. “The grapes were once these juicy, tasty green fruits, right? And then, they get degraded into these dry, wrinkly, shapeless clods that not only look extremely unappetizing but taste awful as well. Now if that’s not humiliation, then I don't know what is. There’s no honour in raisins,” Jack finishes solemnly.

You stare at him in wonder. You’ve never known anyone who would have analyzed the life and times of grapes quite like that before.

You keep your eyes on him, and nod slowly. “Y’know, I never thought of it that way. You’re right, Jack. What’s the point in raisins?”

“I know,” Jack agrees sagely. “I’m positive it’s the French who thought of ‘em. They invented the mayonnaise, but they could’ve left the grapes alone.”

“I like mayonnaise,” you say lightly. “But not raisins. They’re just… eww.”

“The French are an odd bunch, I tell you. They’re obsessed with raisins. A shame, really. But, they do have lovely singing voices. They’re eunuchs, you know, all of them,” Jack says with a sly smirk, making a “snip-snip” gesture with his index- and middle finger.

You laugh. “All of ‘em?”

“All of them,” Jack says certainly, nodding a little in emphasis, the beads in his hair jingling slightly.

By now, the alcohol is catching up on you, and you feel your lids getting heavier by the minute. Scooting your back firmly against the bed you’re both sitting next to, you lean on it for support. Jack grabs the bottle he set down a moment before his raisin-speech, and casually throws his left arm around your shoulders again.

“So, how d’you know that the French are all eunuchs, Jack?” you ask him in cheeky tone.

“Are you implying something?” Jack asks with a tone that strongly suggests you should not do so.

“Why, I’d never!” you repeat the words he spoke to you after the pinch.

Jack chuckles, and you can hear the all-knowing smirk in his voice. “I just do, alright.”

Your head is starting to feel heavy. Without much of a though, you lower your head and set it on Jack’s shoulder. His dreadlocks are a bit coarse under your cheek, but you could care less.

“Hmm. ’Cause you’re Captain Jack Sparrow,” you say sleepily, closing your eyes. Though, it sounded pretty incomprehensible since you yawned at the same time.

“Damn straight, luv,” Jack replies with amused tone, obviously managing to get the gist of your yawned retort.

Damn, Jack smells good, you think blearily as the sleep starts to overcome your hazy mind. On an impulse, you vocalize the thought out loud.

Jack’s chuckles deeply in reply and you feel something hard on top of your head. Jack’s bead string; he’s laid the side of his face on the crown of your head.

“G’night, sweetness,” you hear him say softly under his breath before you’re sent off into the la-la land.

* * *

You blink blearily, sleep slowly eluding you. Rubbing your eyes with your hand, you close them again, basking in the comfortable feeling surrounding you right now. Something warm encompasses your waist, and the mattress underneath you is wonderfully soft. With a content sigh, you snuggle the side of your face deeper into the pillow and try to go back to sleep.

It take a moment for that information to sink into your consciousness; mattress? Wait a minute, you have not mattress; you sleep in a hammock…

Slowly opening your eyes again, you assess the situation. Your right side is currently, indeed, resting on a proper mattress instead of your usual narrow hammock. Staying still, you let your gaze wander across the room and you recognize it very soon; Jack’s quarters. Sunlight pours in from the windows, making it clear it’s indeed morning already. You can hear some shouts of the crew outside. Empty bottles are lying on the floor, and slowly you start remembering last night and your little drink fest with Jack. No wonder your head is starting to throb, a reminder why you shouldn’t drink. Funny how one always forgets the morning-after that follows a night of drinking.

Looking down, you realize that the wonderful warm feeling that encompassed you is actually Jack’s left arm thrown around your waist, his somewhat grimy palm resting limply over your tummy. You smile in recollection; this is not the first time you’ve woken up to find Jack’s arm around you. Who knew Captain Sparrow enjoys cuddling so much?

Carefully so not to wake him up, you flop on your back and turn your head to your left, gazing at the sleeping face of Jack Sparrow. A small smile curves your lips as you look at him; few errand dreadlocks have slipped over his cheek, resting half-way on his pillow. You just keep still and watch him for a moment. From time to time, he snores lightly or makes some other noise, a sigh or a grunt. He looks much younger than normally when he’s asleep, and you wonder how old he in reality is, anyway. You’ve never asked him that, but your tentative guess would be somewhere between thirty, thirty five. But who knows? You make a mental note to yourself to ask him about that later. You glance down, noticing he’s still wearing his shirt and breeches, as are you. That would be all you’d need now if you weren’t!

Sighing again, you turn your head back, gazing at the ceiling. Shutting your eyes momentarily, you raise your hand and rub your forehead. The bloody headache is threatening to increase. On top of that, you’re thirsty as hell. Deciding to head down to the galley for some water and a bite to eat, you take a one last glance at Jack, you gently take a hold of his wrist and lift it off your stomach, placing it on the mattress. You sit up, swinging your feet on the floor and stretch your arms a little, yawing silently.

You’re just about to get up and leave when Jack suddenly stirs in his sleep. You freeze, looking over your shoulder, watching as he extends his arm over the spot where your body laid only a moment ago, mumbling something under his breath. Then he sighs a little, and stills again. You blink, staring at him uncertainly; the low mutter that escaped his mouth sounded suspiciously like your name. You look at his sleeping figure for a moment, and finally shake your head. Obviously you were hearing things. Getting up, you carefully step over the empty bottles and make your way as soundlessly as possible over to the doors. Pushing one of them open, you slip out of Jack’s quarters and close it quietly behind you.

The sun glares at you brightly and you squint, rubbing your eyes again to rid the lingering sleepiness. Starting to slowly trudge towards the stairs leading below, you pass Murtogg and Mullroy on your way.

“Bright morning, ain’t it mates?” you say cheerfully despite your headache, managing a smile.

“Good morning, miss!” Murtogg replies easily with an answering smile. You really like this guy; he’s not bad for a redcoat.

“It certainly is a fine morning,” Mullroy choruses, surprisingly polite behaviour from him compared to the last time you saw the pair. Maybe the near-death experience yesterday had left its mark on everyone.

“Aye,” you nod with a smile. “Well. I got to go now. See you mates later,” you say, picking up your pace.

The fresh air is luckily making the headache a bit more bearable. Reaching the stairs, you descend them and stride along the narrow corridors of the Pearl towards the galley. Finally reaching it, you step in, and at the same moment Elizabeth, Will and Anamaria who were already there stop talking and stare at you. You stop in your tracks, feeling a bit nervous at their pointed looks.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything…?” you ask hesitantly, looking from Anamaria (who looks shrewd) to Elizabeth (who looks surprised) to Will (who looks amused)

You narrow your eyes slightly when no one says anything, moving over to get yourself some water. “Okay, what have I done now?” you ask with humor in your voice as you do so.

“Oh, nothing…” Anamaria drawls with amused undertone, and you just know that tone brings no good. “I was just a bit surprised when you didn’t sleep in your hammock last night.”

Aha. Well, you should’ve guessed that was coming. “Oh?” you say as you turn around with a mug filled with water in your hand.

“Mm. Wanna tell us what that was about?” Anamaria goes on, smirking smugly. You give her a look. She’s really enjoying this. Will and Elizabeth look at you, their faces interested and expectant.

“It’s simply really. I slept with Jack,” you reply casually as you sit down at the long table with them, setting down your mug.

The silence that ensues after your comment is so total you could hear even a needle dropping on the floor.

You look at your companions and notice their stunned expressions. You roll your eyes. “Not like that! ‘Slept’ as in fell asleep in his quarters. Honestly…” you mutter, taking a gulp of water.

“Oh,” Elizabeth says in a tone you’d almost think she was disappointed. Even Anamaria looks slightly disgruntled.

“What? You want me to sleep with Jack?” you ask with a smirk before sipping some water again.

“I’m sure Jack would have no objections,” Will quips, only to get his ribs jabbed by Lizzie’s elbow.

You shake your head in amusement as you watch the pair. Elizabeth clears her throat a little before speaking up. “So… how did you end up sleeping… with Jack?”

You sigh silently. “We were having a perfectly reasonable discussion about Delgado and all that happened yesterday, and had some rum while we were at it. Then the conversation turned into a talk about humiliated grapes and French eunuchs, until I passed out. And that’s about it.”

“Humiliated grapes…?” Will repeats.

“It sounds weird, but actually makes sense when you think of it. Ask Jack to explain sometime,” you explain with a small smile and take a sip of water.

“You talked ‘bout Captain Delgado?” Anamaria asks with narrowed eyes. “You have anythin’ that needs to be shared?”

You think about what to say as you take another drink of your water. What Jack told you about Delgado and their meeting years back was unquestionably confidential, and had nothing to do with the sacking of Norrington’s ship yesterday. If Jack wants that to be public knowledge, it’s his business to make it so, not yours.

“No. We were just wondering why Delgado wants the map-half so badly,” you reply evenly.

Anamaria regards you for a moment, and then nods slowly. “Well, I figure the Captain will let us know if anything comes up, aye?” she states more than asks, but something in her eyes tells you that she’s perhaps not entire convinced you’re telling the truth. Well, no can do.

“If only we knew more about this Captain Delgado and her intentions!” Elizabeth cries in frustration. “Then maybe we could figure out her next move. She’s obviously not stopping until she gets what she wants.”

“Which is, of course, the half of that map. But that’s not much use to us since we have no idea exactly what map,” Will comments.

You nod in agreement, sipping your water in silence.

Anamaria scoffs. “Just forget about the whole damned map already!” she exclaims. “It’s of no use to sit around worryin’. As soon as the Commodore gets back to Port Royal, he’ll be off to hunt down the woman. End of story. ‘Sides, do you really want to get mixed up with another cursed treasure?” she reminds pointedly, referring to the heated argument between the two Spanish women in Trinidad.

“There’s a point. Once was enough at least for me,” you say, Barbossa’s cursed miscreants still fresh in your memory.

Elizabeth makes a dismissive motion with her hand. “That’s another thing entirely! I don’t care about the allegedly cursed treasure; I just want to see this woman stopped before she does any further damage!”

Anamaria is about to retort, but the familiar low drawl from the entrance interrupts her. “Ladies, ladies, do calm down. Or at least wait until I get seated before the catfight,” Jack says with the characteristic smirk of his as he sways next to the table, decked in his long jacket and the tri-cornered hat.

Both Anamaria and Elizabeth give Jack a glare, and he holds his hands up in a placating gesture before rolling his eyes quickly. Then he looks down at you, twirling his wrists in rapid shooing motions, indicating you to make room for him. You roll your eyes; like there weren’t enough room for him on your other side! Nevertheless, you oblige him and scoot a bit to the side on the long bench, and Jack sits down next to you, promptly throwing his arm around your shoulders in amiable manner.

“Now luv, it’s not very nice to just slink off in the morning like that after a night spent together. It’s usually the male participant that does so, just for your information. But what a wild night it was, eh?” he drawls suggestively, raising his brows and grinning cheekily.

“I didn’t slink, I walked normally,” you point out calmly. “And you can stop trying to shock them. They already know the only wild thing about last night was the amount of rum consumed. So you can stop flashing those bits of shine in your mouth,” you jibe and smile at Jack’s dejected look. “Nice try, though.”

Jack sighs as he drops his arms off your shoulders. “Worth a shot, in any case. Maybe next time, then,” he adds in smug tone, recovering quickly from your hindering retort.

Anamaria is unwilling to let the map-subject drop. “I say we set sail for Port Royal as soon as possible, get rid of the Navy folk and forget about the whole bleedin' thing,” she says in fed up way, looking at Jack sharply. “Or what says the Captain?”

“Took the words out of my mouth, Anamaria,” Jack replies smoothly, giving Elizabeth a sympathetic look. “Darling, I know that you’re eager for some adventure, God knows the town you live in is utterly mind-numbing,” Jack adds and rolls his eyes, “But honestly, there are less hazardous ways of doing that. For your own good, just forget about the bloody map already, aye?”

You’re barely listening to the conversation, thinking hard while drinking your water occasionally. Obviously Delgado and her crew have been looking for the damned map for a long time already. They’ve sacked numerous ships and raided many settlements, and they still haven’t found it. Even with the odd being against them, that’s still a bit strange. Unless…

“I’m not looking for adventure, I’m looking for justice!” Elizabeth cries out in frustration, while Will tries to calm her down.

Unless… the map isn’t where it’s supposed to be, after all! There are other pirates sailing the Caribbean and raiding merchant vessels, maybe the map has already been raided and sold to God knows where by now. Wait a minute…

“Justice!” Jack repeats with sardonic edge in his tone. “Why don’t you let your bloody friend Norrington take care of that, luv…”

Wait, you are pirates, yourselves! And didn’t you just some weeks ago raid a small merchant vessel that was sailing from Europe somewhere? The one that’s had all those crates and chests full of stuff that you stole as well, since Jack was intending to sell them later…

“Of course!” you exclaim in realization, and everyone looks at you like you’ve just grown another head.

“What?” Jack asks you finally, with as much puzzlement in his voice as he can muster.

“I have to check something out,” you say absent-mindedly, your mind already working on this new puzzle. You scramble off the bench and hurry out of the galley, striding purposefully towards the hold.

“It’s definitely a long shot, but it’s worth looking into…” you mumble to yourself as you hurriedly walk along the corridors of the Pearl, reaching the stairs and descending them down yet one level.

“Ah, luv?” you hear Jack’s voice behind you, and you glance briefly over your shoulder to see him trailing few steps behind you, looking perplexed and slightly worried.

“Aye Jack?” you ask as you turn your head back to look ahead of you, not slowing down.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you were feeling alright? See, irrational behaviour such as this is usually considered a sign of everything in fact not being alright,” Jack explains jovially as you reach the hold and step inside, Jack following you like a shadow.

“I’m perfectly alright, thanks for asking…” you trail off, searching for the chests you looted from the merchant ship few weeks back. Spotting them over one side, you stride over them.

“Jack, do you remember the merchant vessel we raided about two weeks ago? The one that was owner by that stocky English chap whose diamond brooch you just had to take before leaving…?” you go on with a smirk, remembering the bald, burly gentleman with at least three extra chins who wore a large diamond brooch on the lapel of his elaborate jacket.

Jack had been unable to resist the temptation, but plucked the brooch off of him before departing, leaving the poor man spluttering in appalled rage, making his whole head turn a dangerous shade of red.

Jack grins broadly and laughs a little at the memory. “Ah yes! He was a nice fellow, really.”

“Sure,” you smirk as you turn your attention back to the chests, and crouch down in front of one of them, swiftly opening it. You rifle though the things in it; some old books, different ornaments various things that look like they’re quite aged already.

“Well, didn’t that nice fellow tell us that that they sailed from England, if I remember correctly? And that they had only antique and things like that onboard?” you ask Jack as you continue to inspect the things in the chest.

“Aye, but— Oh, for rum’s sake!” Jack growls in aggravation, catching up. “Don’t tell me you think the map is hidden somewhere in these?” he asks, and you can see from the corner of your eyes how he waves his hands hastily in time with his speech, the long bauble-string on the left side of his face swinging.

You shrug, sparing a quick glance at Jack who looks quite exasperated as he stares down at you expectantly. “I know it’s a long shot, but let’s think about it; Delgado and her cronies think the map is in the hands of an English trader, no? Well, we just raided a ship, an English merchant ship, did we not? Now, if were lucky, maybe two plus just might equal four, understand?”

Jack sighs heavily as you shut the chest and move on to the next one, finding nothing of interest in the first. “Not you too…” he mutters in desperation as you determinately got though the various things I the second chest, not really listening.

“Elizabeth I could’ve yet handled… Tell me, does this run in the family or something?!” he grumbles as he kneels next to you. Your hand suddenly comes into contract with a worn piece of parchment sandwiched between two old books, and your eyes widen slightly as you look down at it. Oh, this can’t be happening…

Jack doesn’t seem to notice your look, but holds his palms in front of his face waving them very marginally. “Alright luv, repeat after me; there are no maps in here, savvy?”

You gaze down at the piece, and swallow nervously. Tentatively you pick up the yellowed, torn, and worn out piece of parchment from the chest and hold it in front of Jack’s face. “Maps like this, Jack…?” you ask quietly.

Jack blinks as he studies the piece, carefully taking it from you. A frown appears on his face as he stares at the half and mutters, “Well, sink me…”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 8 - Pit of Snakes

A woman with light brown hair down to her shoulders glared at the young Brit sailor before her, her green eyes narrowed in a spiteful way that was very characteristic of her. An ugly, pinkish scar with jagged edges split her cheek, running down from the inner corner of her left eye all the way to her jaw line. The young sailor had never seen such an angry looking woman ever before in his entire life, and swallowed nervously at the sight of the cutlass blood smeared the woman was clutching tightly in her fist as she stalked towards him.

“Please, don’t…” the young man pleaded desperately for the woman to spare his life, even though he knew it was most likely futile; she and the other women had killed almost everybody else on the vessel, and the air around the ship smelled eerily of blood and gunpowder.

The pirate woman suddenly stopped, coking her head slightly to one side. “And what would you give to be left alive?” the woman spoke up in heavily accented English, obviously not accustomed to speaking the particular language much.

The man blinked in surprise. “I don’t know… anything!” he stammered.

The woman's eyes narrowed again, and she lunged forward, stabbing her cutlass into the man’s midriff. Glaring at the wide-eyed, gasping youngster, she bent her head a little and whispered harshly in his ear; “There is nothing you could give that I would want, ¡usted idiota!” (You idiot!)

Pulling her blade out of the man, she watched as the sailor slumped on the deck, lifeless.

“Wasn’t that a bit harsh, Nerita?” A deep, amused voice suddenly addressed her in Spanish.

Nerita turned around and looked up to the tall, dark haired Spaniard whose lips were pulled into a smirk.

“Capitán Delgado,” Nerita acknowledged with a nod. Then remembering the question, she smirked in return. “Not in my opinion, no.”

Gabriela Delgado, the Captain of Espirítu Maldito, let out a low laugh at this. “That’s one of the reasons I like about you, Nerita. You offer no excuses…”

With that, Delgado turned around and started to slowly walk towards the stern of the ship. Nerita followed, falling into step beside her. The two of them, the Captain and the firstmate, were nearly a comical sight when walking together like this. Gabriela was abnormally tall for a woman, towering well past six feet in height, where as Nerita was quite short, managing only barely full five feet. They might have looked amusing together, but nobody would certainly be laughing after getting to know the women.

Many years ago, they had met in Cuba when Gabriela was only eighteen years old. A couple of years older Nerita and Gabriela made quick friends, sharing the same basic nature. Nerita had told Gabriela that the ship that’s crew she belonged to was searching for a new recruit. Gabriela, who had been looking for an opportunity like that, had asked Nerita to introduce her to the Captain.

Luis Perez, Captain of the Espirítu Maldito, had been impressed by Gabriela’s knowledge of seafaring, as well as her skills with a cutlass. Captain Perez also had an eye for female beauty, and had recruited Gabriela that same day. And now, twelve years later, Gabriela was the Captain of the said vessel after various events along the years. For the last nine years, Gabriela and her crew had been searching for the lost half of the map of the Abyss, and now they were finally so close to finding it!

“What’s the situation?” Gabriela demanded as she and Nerita walked along the deck, oblivious to the bodies of the vessel’s crew that littered it.

Nerita braced herself for the Captain’s quick temper that would likely flare when she heard the bad news. “We haven’t been able to find it, Captain.”

Delgado glanced down at her firstmate sharply, her grey eyes hardening. “It was supposed to be onboard this damned vessel!” she hissed between clenched teeth, reminding Nerita of a poisonous snake coiled up and ready to strike.

“Sí, Capitán!” Nerita hurriedly said, “I know this. I assure you, the sisters have turned every inch of this ship around… but the map is nowhere to be found.”

Gabriela’s eyes narrowed in barely contained anger as she gazed over the azure blue waters. After sacking many ship and various settlements, she had finally gotten on the correct track; she had found out the name of the trader and his ship that was in possession of the map-half they’d spent years locating. And now, after finding the ship, the map was not onboard after all?

Gabriela hissed a crude curse, making Nerita actually flinch at the venom in her tone. “Did you find the trader?” she asked finally with forced patience.

“Sí, Capitán,” Nerita assured, “Over here,” she went on, motioning towards a small group of women standing near the helm of the ship, watching a middle-aged man with eyeglasses and white wig.

Nerita struggled to keep up with Delgado’s long strides as she made her way over the group, the women quickly parting before her. The man in the middle of the women was shaking nervously, and swallowed visibly at the sight of Gabriela who stopped in front of the poor man, towering over him.

Smiling pleasantly, Gabriela spoke in accented English. “Good afternoon, sir. I apologize for the intrusion, but I’m afraid that it was necessary. I’m Captain Delgado. And might you possibly be Conrad Harrods?”

The man looked shocked at this. “H-how do you know my name?”

Gabriela smirked. “Good! We are on the right track, then. It would have been a shame to have wasted time and effort on your ship and crew if you weren’t,” she said almost joyously, ignoring his question.

Mr. Harrods shook his head in stunned disbelief. “Why are you doing this…? What do you want?”

Gabriela’s smirk vanished, her face going blank. “Let’s have a talk, shall we?”

Quicker than Mr. Harrods could comprehend, Delgado grabbed him from his collar and swiped one leg behind his ankles, kicking the man off of his feet. Gabriela let go of his jacket, and Harrods fell flat on his back on the deck with a startled yell. He was nearly paralyzed with terror as he watched the woman kneel down next to him, strands of long black hair falling down to frame her beautiful features. For a fleeting moment, Mr. Harrods was certain he was looking straight into the cold, grey eyes of Death herself.

Delgado had produced a wicked looking dagger somewhere, and Harrods drew in a sharp breath as she shoved the sharp tip right under his chin.

“I heard from a reliable source that you were in possession of something that I want; a half of a certain ancient map…” Delgado said slowly, her voice low. Narrowing her eyes in question, she went on more forcefully, “So make this easier on yourself and tell me where it is, right now.”

“W-what map…? I have no idea–“

“The map of the Abyss, Mr. Harrods! I know you have it, now where is it?!” Delgado hissed dangerously, pushing the blade more firmly against his skin but didn’t draw blood. Yet.

“B-but the, the legend of the Abyss is just a story,” Harrods stuttered, breaking into cold sweat.

Gabriela let out a furious growl deep from her throat, slamming her free hand forcefully on the deck right next to Harrods’ head, causing him to flinch.

“I didn’t ask for your opinions, Mr. Harrods!” she yelled in fury, eyes flashing. “For the last time, where is the map?! If you value your life, you’ll start talking soon. See, I’m not a very patient woman, Mr. Harrods…” she drawled, digging the dagger deeper enough to puncture the skin, causing a small dribble of blood to run down Harrods’ throat.

“I sold it! I sold it, alright!” Harrods moaned in terror, close to weeping.

Gabriela stared at the man mutely. Only the cloudiness of her grey eyes was the only thing betraying her rising anger.

“You sold it?” Gabriela repeated pointedly.

“Many weeks ago!” Harrods sobbed in desperation. “To another trader. But I can’t remember his name, I swear I can’t…”

Gabriela cocked her head and removed the blade under the man’s chin. With one swift movement, she flipped in her hand so that the blade so that it pointed downwards, and without taking her eyes off Harrods’, plunged the tip into his abdomen. The man screamed in pain as Gabriela watched him, perfectly calm.

“You think, Mr. Harrods. Think very hard. If you can tell me the name of the trader whom you sold the map to, or his vessels, I’ll spare your miserable life. This wound is not fatal, but it hurts like hell, as you’ve probably noticed…” Gabriela said with a smirk.

Mr. Harrods whimpered in agony, gasping. “The trader… Frederic Parker… But!” the man inhaled sharply, stopping.

“But what?” Delgado prompted. “Go on.”

“His ship… got raided… by pirates… weeks ago… That’s what I heard,” Harrods panted, and Delgado frowned at the unexpected turn.

“Pirates? Whom exactly? Which ship?” She demanded anxiously, pushing the blade a little deeper.

“I don’t know!” Harrods screamed, shaking his head. “I swear, I don’t know! Please stop!”

Sneering, Gabriela leaned a bit closer to the man, whispering menacingly in his ear, “Well, that wasn’t much of use to us, was it?”

Mr. Harrods’ eyes widened in terror, the meaning of Delgado’s words dawning on him. “But you said–!”

Plunging the blade all the way down, Gabriela stared at the man as he screamed and writhed in pain. Then, he stilled and drew his last breath, going limp.

“I lied.” Gabriela said simply as she pulled the blade out, wiping the blood on Harrods’ jacket and sliding the dagger back in its sheath inside her boot.

Standing up to her full height, Gabriela’s anger and annoyance returned full force. Glaring at the crew women milling around her, she barked in Spanish, “Don’t just stand there gawking! Rig the magazine and make sure this boat gets blown into pieces!”

The women scrambled around to obey, some heading below to the powder magazine as Gabriela strode off with the hems of her long overcoat swaying, heading to the gangplank leading aboard her galleon. Stomping up the ramp, she glanced behind her shoulder to Nerita who was the only woman that dared to follow her.

“Take over and make sure we’re ready to sail as soon as they get back onboard,” Gabriela ordered curtly, referring to the women still aboard the merchant vessel.

“Sí, Capitán,” Nerita replied, backing orders to the crew to weigh anchor. Gabriela made her way towards the Captain’s quarters, irritation radiating from her. Entering her cabin, she slammed the door shut forcefully behind her.

Stalking over to the round, mahogany table situated in the middle of her dim cabin, she rounded the table and sat down in her chair. There was a low shelve behind the chair, and Gabriela leaned the chair back slightly so that it rested against the shelve. As she propped her long, booted legs on the edge of the table, a flash of white in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. Turning her head to the side, she smiled at the sight of the large snake curled on the shelf only some feet away from her.

“Mi pequeña querida…” she said affectionately, reaching out and lifting the heavy snake with both her hands on the table in front of her. (My little darling…)

It was a boa constrictor. She was still small, only about seven feet long, but it was already fairly heavy. It was coloured in rare fashion, white base color with pale yellow marks; it was an albino. Normally boa constrictors were sandy brown with darker brown marks on the back. Some pirates brought back parrots or things like that from their travels; Delgado had taken a liking to snakes. This one had been her pet for a few years already.

Gabriela watched as the snakes forked tongue came out every now and then, tasting the air. Stroking the reptiles back, Delgado allowed the snake to slowly slither up her arm onto her shoulders. The snake gazed around from its perch on her shoulders with her pale pink eyes, and Delgado absently stroked the bulky head of the reptilian with her fingers.

So, the map was now most likely in the hands of some other pirate. This was certainly not what Delgado had expected. It put a twist into things, and Gabriela hated it when other people meddled in to her affairs more than anything. The gentle rocking of the ship told Gabriela they were already moving; and some moment later she could hear the dull ‘boom’ of the vessel they’d sacked minutes ago exploding. Smiling at the sound, Gabriela looked at the snake again.

A hesitant knocking came from the door, interrupting Gabriela’s thoughts.

“Enter!” she snapped, little irritated at the intrusion.

Nerita stepped inside the cabin, nodding to the Captain. “Captain, I came to inquire where are we headed to, next?”

Gabriela frowned, glancing down at the white snake who eyed Nerita with its round, pink eyes, tongue slipping out and in as it smelled the air. Truthfully, she’d been so caught up in her irritation over the map that she hadn’t yet thought about their next destination.

Nerita cleared her throat, and Gabriela looked at her. “Yes?” she prompted impatiently, seeing Nerita obviously had something to say.

“Maybe we could head to Tortuga. We could try to ask around, see if anyone knows of the map. And frankly, we need some supplies,” she suggested.

Gabriela raised her brow a little. Tortuga was not a bad choice. It was a haven for pirates, and if there were any news about the map and its current owner to be had, they would be found there. Besides… maybe it was time to visit the little mole of hers situated in the wretched town.

“Yes, Nerita. Set course towards Tortuga…” Gabriela drawled with a nod, looking down at the snake and grinning deviously. “I have a little informant there, and I think it’s time to pay him a visit…”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 9 - Unexpected Proposition

You watch the cove that houses the mostly prestigious city of Port Royal edge closer each passing minute the Pearl glides across the sparkling blue waters of Caribbean. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, because you were.

After the rather startling discovery of the map from the hold of the Pearl, you’d stayed rooted to your kneeling position over the trunk next to Jack who was studying the map piece with a thoughtful frown. With a quick glance at you, he’d grabbed your hand and pulled you up with him, striding out of the hold, mumbling about something you couldn’t quite catch. Some minutes later, you, Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Gibbs, Anamaria and Norrington had gathered in Jack quarters, everyone except you and Jack staring at the little piece of worn out parchment like it were a big wonder. After lots of speculation and some arguments, Jack had made the decision to set sail towards Port Royal immediately. The map business could wait for a while and he really wanted Norrington and the naval soldiers off his ship, but his voiced excuse was that some of Norrington’s men really did need some medical attention soon, so...

Here you were now, almost closing in on the said town. You stood in the helm with Jack who was staring grimly ahead, every now and then correcting the course and turning the rudder slightly. The nervous energy keeps gathering inside you, and you feel like hopping up and down to relieve some of the tension.

“You think this is going to work…?” you break the silence, glancing at Jack.

Jack takes a breath. “Well I figure it has to,” he says in pretty nonchalant tone despite the situation. Giving you a quick look, he goes on. “Otherwise we’ll be in one hell of a mess, no?”

You smirk humourlessly. “How reassuring,” you say dryly. “Funny how things turn out sometimes,” you muse after a moment. “Last time we had to throw ourselves off the fricking battlement to get out of that town, and now we’re going back in voluntarily.”

Jack smirks. “Irony… the spice of life. Along with variation and rum, of course.”

You snort. “How did you manage to bring rum into a discussion like this?”

“It’s a talent honed along the years, luv,” Jack grins cockily, gold flashing quickly in the sunlight.

You look at him with a small smile. Just when you thought you’d know all his little quirks, he dishes out something new for you to puzzle over. Truly, he’s the most unique person you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. “You’re unbelievable…” you mumble with a shake of your head.

“Oh, yes… so I’ve been told a few times,” Jack remarks in semi-modest tone, trying to smother the grin threatening to break out.

You quirk your brow, giving him amused look. “Modesty isn’t really your thing, Jack.”

Jack shrugs with a grin. “Just thought I’d give it a try. Variation, you see.”

You laugh a little, before gazing ahead again. You could now make out the port, which meant you had to drop the anchor soon.

Commodore Norrington was making his way up the stairs to the helm, striding slowly up to Jack and you. Nobody says anything; you just stand there and watch the town creep closer.

“You do realize, Captain Sparrow,” Norrington starts slowly after a moment of silence, his tone almost… amused? “That this… arrival effectively deters my military career as well as my image as the known pirate adversary?”

You’re surprised to see a small smile play in the corner of Norrington’s mouth, but maybe that was just an ironical smile. Trading a quick, amused glance with you, Jack shifts his weight a bit in seemingly restless manner.

“Well mate, appearing here with a ship full of the King’s finest isn’t really working wonders on my reputation either,” Jack replies smoothly with a smirk. “So we’re all in the same boat, here. Figuratively speaking, of course, since the Pearl is really a ship instead of some dingy boat,” Jack elaborates thoughtfully with an absent wave of his hand and a nod of his head.

“I suppose,” Norrington comments dryly while gazing towards the city.

“Look at it this way, mate; this is the grandest, most unforgettable entrance that a Commodore of the Royal navy could ever wish for,” Jack explains with flourish, momentarily letting go of the rudder and sweeping both of his hands in the air in a grand gesture before dropping them on the smooth wood of the wheel again. “You’re sure to get your name in history as the only Commodore ever to set foot aboard the infamous Black Pearl…” Jack smirks as he throws a look at Norrington. “So really, you should be proud of yourself.”

You smile at Jack’s long-winded monologue, glancing at Norrington who looks slightly fed up. You’ve noticed that’s a pretty frequent look on him when dealing with Jack, for some odd reason.

“Indeed,” Norrington replies sardonically. After a moment of silence (and probably, collecting mental strength) he speaks up again, looking towards the town again. “Might I use your telescope?”

Jack turns the rudder slightly before looking at Norrington with a mischievous smile. “But certainly! If you say the magic word that is…”

Norrington sighs silently. “Please?”

Jack chuckles, shaking his head a bit. “The other one.”

Norrington frowns in puzzlement, clearly at loss. You grin, leaning a bit towards him and drop him a hint. “It begins with a ‘C’.”

Norrington looks at you with even more perplexed expression, but you just nod a little. He really should figure that one out, being as intelligent as he’s supposed to be. After a moment, Norrington gets a look of realization, and again he heaves a sigh. “Captain?”

Jack grins in delight. “That’s the one! Very good, Commodore. It would do you good to bear that in mind, so I wouldn’t constantly have to remind you of it…” he trails of with a scornful edge in his tone as he bends down to pick up the telescope.

Norrington’s face is showing his annoyance. “Tell me, Captain Sparrow; are you utterly unable to be straightforward? Would it kill you to actually say what you’re about to say instead of talking in riddles?”

Jack tilts his head to the side slightly, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes as he ponders this. After a moment, he looks at Norrington and smirks. “Yeah.”

“Totally, utterly and absolutely unable,” you agree with a grin.

Norrington rolls his eyes, clearly holding onto the last remaining pieces of his patience. You’re actually starting to feel a little sorry for the guy, but only a little. Let him consider this as a payback from the condescending way he treated you and Jack a year back.

“Alright, alright, since you’re supposedly a guest, for the lack of a better term, I’ll oblige this once,” Jack says while holding up the telescope. “So do you want this or not?” he asks with a raised brow. “Was I being straightforward enough?”

Norrington’s face is sour as he snatches the gadget from Jack, unfolding it and peering into it. Jack makes a peeved face and twirls his fingers in annoyed manner, and you quickly smother your chuckles after seeing his expression.

Leaning towards you conspiratorially, Jack whispers in your ear, “Bit high-strung, eh?”

Ignoring the pleasant, husky sound of Jack’s voice, you nod. “You don’t say,” you whisper back in amused tone.

Pulling back with a smirk, Jack gazes towards the battlements of Fort Charles that tower over Port Royal.

“Let’s hope your little mates ask questions first and shoot later. If my ship gets any unnecessary holes on her sides, I won’t be feeling very amused,” Jack remarks lazily to Norrington who’s still peering in the telescope.

“Don’t worry, Captain Sparrow,” Norrington replies laconically. “Lieutenant Groves isn’t a man of rash actions. They’ll hold fire.”

Judging from his initial expression, Jack doesn’t seem very convinced, but quickly slips back into his typical, carefree mood. “Well!” he exclaims airily, grinning broadly as he gives you a quick look. “Let’s get this show going then, eh?”

* * *

Lieutenant Groves was not an amused man. Ever since Commodore Norrington had boarded the HMS Messenger about a week ago and left Groves in charge during his absence, Groves had been very close to losing his nerves completely numerous times during the past days by certain overly zealous Lieutenant Gillette.

During Commodore Norrington’s absence, the junior Lieutenant had been constantly following him around, pestering him with questions about this and that. Surely Gillette meant good, but Groves’ nerves were almost shot to hell thanks to his over eager behaviour. The man was, Groves had decided, a downright nuisance.

As Lieutenant Groves was making his daily rounds over the battlements overlooking Port Royal, he thanked heavens he’d seen no a hide or hair of Gillette this afternoon. Everything was calm and peaceful in this particular day, and Groves only hoped it would stay that way.

“Lieutenant Groves!”

Groves stopped dead in his tracks and squeezed his eyes shut at the familiar voice. Speak of the devil… Forcing a polite look on his face, Groves turned around in time to see Gillette hurrying his steps to catch up, unhappy look on his face.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Gillette,” Groves ground out.

“Lieutenant Groves,” Gillette started, dismissing all pleasantries. “I was wondering why haven’t the–“

“Sail ho!”

A shout from a sentry nearby interrupted Gillette, and Groves mentally thanked what ever force spared him from Gillette’s displeased rambles this time. As they turned around to look in the direction the sentry was pointing at, both Groves and Gillette were stunned into silence.

Sailing towards the port was a large, dark ship with unmistakable black sails billowing in the wind, the figurehead of a winged woman holding a dove clearly visible in the bright sunlight. It was the notorious Black Pearl herself.

“Pirates!” Gillette finally blurted out after a moment.

Groves frowned; the ship that had sacked Port Royal a year ago did not appear to behave like it was about to attack now. Nor did the vessel appear to have a Jolly Roger hoisted up.

“Lieutenant Groves! Something must be done, that ship is a threat to the safety of the citizens!” Gillette exclaimed. Had he been in charge, they would have already opened fire on the ship.

“Bring me a telescope,” Groves finally ordered the men that had gathered around to witness the arrival of the pirate vessel.

Someone quickly handed Groves the gadget, and he swiftly lifted it up and aimed it at the vessel. His suspicions were confirmed; the ship had a white flag hoisted in its mainmast, which was a surprise in itself.

“All units are to hold fire!” Groves ordered. “The ship is not about to attack.”

“But sir!” Gillette protested loudly, but Groves quickly lowered the telescope enough to glare at the younger man.

“I said, hold fire,” Groves repeated, lifting the telescope back in front of his right eye. “The ship is signalling they aren’t about to attack! And…” he trailed off, blinking in surprise as he saw the people standing onboard.

“And it appears that Commodore Norrington and his men are aboard that vessel,” he finally said, lowering the telescope.

“What?!” Gillette cried out, his expression unbelieving.

“Lieutenant Gillette,” Groves said, not taking his eyes off the ship. “Fetch Lieutenant Jefferson and tell him to arrange a group to meet up with the Commodore on the port.”

Gillette looked disgruntled, but nodded curtly. “Yes, Lieutenant Groves.”

With that, Gillette hurried down to find Jefferson. Groves looked down on the ship again that had dropped the anchor and heaving in the sails. If the Commodore had been forced to board a pirate vessel, then something very grave must have happened on their voyage. With one final look at the ship, he hurried down the battlement as well.

* * *

You grab the side of the boat lightly with one hand as the gentle waves rocked it, gazing ahead towards the sandy shore not far away. You sat beside Elizabeth in the stern of a relatively small boat, as Will and Norrington sat in the middle, rowing (the image of Norrington rowing was very amusing, but you’d managed this far to curb your smirk) whereas Jack was standing in the bow (yes, standing, looking very much like the Captain he is) Despite the slight waving of the boat, Jack kept his balance perfectly. That was no wonder though; he had sea legs unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before. Even your late father, Peter Byrne, also known as Bloodshot Pete, would most likely lose to Jack in that aspect.

Jack had typically made a comment in very sly tone about you sitting on his lap while you were cramping in the small boat. Norrington had however pointed out that it wasn’t necessary; he and Will would row. You’d smiled to yourself as you’d overheard Jack muttering something about bloody gentlemen under his breath.

“Looks like we got ourselves a welcoming committee,” Jack speaks up suddenly, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You lean a bit over the side of the boat so take a better look ahead, seeing several soldiers were littering the beach with their muskets ready to welcome you to Port Royal. You also spotted one man who wasn’t wearing a red uniform, but blue; the commander of the little bunch.

After another moment spent in silence you finally reached the shore, the boat scraping against the sandy bottom. Jack nimbly leaps out of the boat, waving at the soldiers aiming their muskets warningly towards him.

“Good day, mates! Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” Jack says carelessly with a grin.

Will and Norrington climb out of the boat, pulling it a bit more fully to rest firmly on the shore. Elizabeth gets out first, with Will’s help of course. As you follow her and are about to step out of the boat, Jack takes your hand, supporting you as you step on the sand. You quirk your brows at this gesture, but Jack just smirks in return and lets go of your hand, but not before sweeping his thumb fleetingly across your fingers. The gesture is oddly intimate, and you look at him inquiringly. But Jack’s his attention is already on the soldiers and the guy in the blue uniform.

“Commodore Norrington, sir! Miss Swann, Mister Turner,” the guy begins, and you suddenly recognize him; it’s Lieutenant Jefferson, the man who told Smith to take you to the brig the last time you were in Port Royal a year ago. A very pompous bastard, you recall.

“What possibly could have happened that possessed you to associate with these… pirates?!” Jefferson goes on in condescending tone, looking at you and Jack like you’re the scum of the earth.

“Lieutenant Jefferson, calm down. Men, put down your weapons,” Norrington says in a tone that brooks no arguments, and the soldiers obey, setting the muskets back against their shoulders.

“But…” Jefferson stammers incredulously. “Sir, they’re pirates!”

“Thank you for that acute observation, Lieutenant.” Norrington says with a hint of sarcasm. Before anyone manages to say anything else, two more commanders suddenly show up, hurriedly striding towards you with more soldiers.

“This party just keeps growing,” you mumble under your breath.

“Well, the more the merrier, eh?” Jack mutters back from his place beside you, and you chuckle.

“Commodore Norrington!” one of the new commanders says as they reach you. You don’t know who he is, but you recognize the other one. It’s the over-confident Lieutenant Gillette himself.

“Lieutenant Groves,” Norrington nods in greeting.

“What is going on here? What does Sparrow do in Port Royal?” Gillette asks in disbelief.

“It’s Captain Sparrow, son,” Jack corrects impatiently. “Why do I always have to remind everyone of that?” he goes on in exasperation.

“As I was explaining, Captain Sparrow and Miss Byrne here are to be allowed to move freely. It’s the least we can do,” Norrington says, earning disbelieving looks from the Lieutenants. Jack grins smugly as Gillette happens to glance towards him.

“May I ask why, Commodore?” Groves asks, surprisingly not unkindly, but rather curiously.

“Without Captain Sparrow and his crew, both I and the crew aboard the Messenger would have drowned for sure. We were attacked by a Spanish pirate called Captain Delgado. She sacked our ship and left us to die. Without Captain Sparrow’s unselfish act we would have,” Norrington explains calmly, and you look at him in wonder.

You never would have thought the day would come when the Commodore would speak so kindly of Jack. Could it really be that the Commodore has in fact changed? Jack looks a bit uncomfortable as well, but does a good job hiding it with the characteristic smirk, pointing at himself in “that’s me” manner.

Gillette looks stunned and disgruntled at the same time. “But didn’t you said it yourself that one good deed is not enough to redeem a lifetime of wickedness, Sir?”

Norrington regards Gillette with a look that’s a mix between amusement and vexation. “Do you often memorize my sayings, Gillette?”

You raise your brows at the reprimanding comment, and Jack whistles under his breath. “Ooh, burned,” he mutters in amused appreciation. Even Will and Elizabeth have to hide their smiles.

Gillette splutters. “Of course not, Sir, but–”

“No buts, Lieutenant Gillette,” Norrington cuts him off rather rudely. “Lieutenant Groves? Please assemble a few longboats to fetch the men off the Black Pearl. Some of them are injured, and require immediate medical attention. See to it that they receive it.”

Groves nods in understanding. “Certainly, Commodore Norrington. I shall see to it.”

Lieutenant Groves bids polite goodbyes to everyone, even you and Jack, and you decide that you like this guy. He’s not pompous and condescending like Gillette and Jefferson.

“Lieutenant Gillette,” Norrington starts, “Please arrange a carriage to Ms. Swann and Mr. Turner. They must be tired, and I’m sure Ms. Swann would like to see the Governor.”

“Yes, Commodore,” Gillette says, albeit somewhat drudgingly, before leaving.

Elizabeth smiles her thanks for Norrington, who returns the smile. Then, he turns towards Jefferson and the remaining handful of soldiers. “Lieutenant Jefferson, take you men and return to the fort. Make sure that everyone is aware of Captain Sparrow’s and Ms. Byrne’s immunity during their stay in Port Royal.”

“Certainly, Commodore,” Jefferson replies stiffly. He nods to the men and they start making their way off the shore.

Norrington turns to look at Jack. “Captain Sparrow. I would like to have a word with you in private, if that’s no problem?”

Jack raises his brows curiously, clearly pondering on Norrington’s motives. “No problem at all, Commodore. Lead the way,” he says finally, motioning with his hand.

You frown, wondering what Norrington wants to talk about. You suddenly feel like an outsider, with Jack apparently going with Norrington and Will and Elizabeth about to head back to the mansion. As if reading your thoughts, Elizabeth touches your arm to get your attention.

“Wouldn’t you come with me and Will to see father? He would love to see you, I’m sure. Please?” Elizabeth asks softly, brown eyes pleading. She looks like a puppy, and you find it hard to say no.

Still, you’re not sure about leaving Jack, and glance at him for reassurance. Jack smiles slightly.

“Go on, luv, don’t worry. I’m sure the good Commodore and I will catch up with you after our little chat, eh?” Jack says airily with a glance at Norrington.

“Certainly,” Norrington replies shortly with a small nod.

You’re still not certain, but relent after a moment. You’re not too eager to see the Fort again on such close proximity, anyway. “Fine,” you say. “I’ll see you later, then.”

* * *

Stepping out of the carriage, you stare up at the huge, lightly coloured building in front of you. It wasn’t a house, it was a bloody mansion. Elizabeth smiles at your look, beckoning you to follow.

“It’s not a big as it looks,” Will whispers to you with a smirk behind Elizabeth’s back.

You grin in return. “Oh, yeah?”

The three of you make your way up the stairs, but before you make it to the elaborate, white door, it’s opened by an elderly man dressed in simple wig and clothing that tell you he’s probably the butler.

The butler inclined his head stiffly in a manner of greeting. “Miss Swann, Mister Turner. Governor Swann has been rather anxious to see you.”

Elizabeth smiles at the man as you step indoors. “Thank you, Harold. Oh, this is Miss Byrne, my cousin and the Governor’s niece,” she introduced you, and you smile politely even though you’re getting a bit fed up with the “Miss” everyone obviously insists on calling you.

“Milady,” Harold the butler bows properly.

“Would you please let my father know were here? We’ll be waiting in the parlour,” Elizabeth asks.

“Certainly, Miss,” Harold bows again, turning and walking away.

“So,” you ask Will and Elizabeth as you walk towards the parlour, trying to make conversation. “What do you suppose Harold meant with the Governor being anxious?”

You raise your brows as they both look a bit uncomfortable. “Well, you see…” Elizabeth starts as you reach the parlour; a round room with big windows, beautiful settees and a large, mahogany table in the middle of the room. It was obviously a sitting area for serving tea and such. You weren’t really sure, since you did not exactly know the finer points of the lifestyle such as the Swann’s had.

After a quick glance at Will, Elizabeth was about to go on with her explanation, but suddenly the Governor appeared from the other entrance on the other side of the parlour with a maid in tow.

“Elizabeth!” he cries happily, hurrying to reach his daughter and embracing her warmly.

You stand next to Will, or a bit behind him, more accurately. This whole reunion seemed a bit funny to you, like the Governor hadn’t seen Elizabeth in weeks.

“Where have you been, Elizabeth?” Weatherby Swann asks Elizabeth as they separate.

You frown at this; hadn’t Elizabeth and Will told the Governor where they were going before boarding the Pearl? That would explain it.

“And Will, my boy, why on earth–” the Governor stops short after seeing you. You smile a bit uncertainly, not really sure that to say.

“Dear girl, what are you doing here?” he asks in surprised tone. “I’m happy to see you, of course, but I thought you…” he shakes his head in confusion, glancing from Elizabeth to Will and then back to you. “Now, I think someone better explain to me what exactly is going on in here.”

Elizabeth takes Will’s hand, and they sit down on one of the settees. You follow their example and sit on the one behind you, glancing at Will and Elizabeth.

“I have been worried about both of you,” the Governor speaks up with a bit of annoyance in his tone, looking at Will and Elizabeth. “The way you just disappeared like that. And that note you left behind was quite puzzling, to say the least! Where on earth have you been these past four days?”

Elizabeth sighs a little. “You deserve an explanation,” she admits, glancing at Will who smiles at her encouragingly. “We’ve spent the last few days aboard the Black Pearl with Captain Sparrow and his crew.”

The Governor looks appalled. “Aboard a pirate ship?! Are you both out of your mind? They’re… pirates!”

“With all do respect Sir, they’re also our friends,” Will says softly.

Weatherby Swann looks frustrated, shaking his head. Finally, he turns to regard you questioningly. “So, why are you in Port Royal then, if I may ask? Have you finally reconsidered your… choice of career?”

You stifle your snort. The Governor can keep on wishing, unfortunately. “No, I have not. We’re just making a quick stop here. We had to drop off the Commodore and his men before we can be on our way again.”

“What? Commodore Norrington?” The Governor repeats in disbelief, glancing at Will and Elizabeth, and then sighs in defeat. Glancing at the maid who’s still standing near the entrance, he says, “Marie, could you please bring us some tea?”

The maid drops into a curtsy, and hurries to fetch the blasted tea.

“Now,” the Governor says, sitting down. “Could someone please start from the beginning?”

You sigh silently, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. This would be one long discussion...

* * *

Jack glanced around Norrington’s office with unimpressed look, his wrists hanging limply in front of him.

“Rather frugal style you’ve got going on ‘ere, mate,” Jack smirked as he strolled slowly around the room, swaying past a large shelf filled with books and other things, running a grimy finger over the titles as he went.

Norrington offered a tight smile at the comment, even though Jack couldn’t see it since he wasn’t even facing him; the pirate was seemingly more interested at the things on the shelves.

“Right,” Norrington said, sitting down on his chair by his desk. “Maybe we could get to business?” he suggested, somewhat pointedly.

Jack tilted his head to the side, glancing at Norrington. “By all means, go right ahead,” he grinned, before turning his attention back to Norrington’s things.

Norrington inhaled, calming himself down. Sparrow was unquestionably one of the most vexing people he knew.

“I asked you here because I wanted to discuss about this Captain Delgado,” Norrington began, searching for any sign of attention from the pirate Captain who was currently studying some chart with a concentrated frown.

After a moment, Norrington gave up on waiting for an answer from Jack and rolled his eyes. “As it is, I actually have a proposition for you.”

Jack was still studying the chart he was holding with both hands, but turned around towards Norrington even though his eyes never left the chart. “Is that so…” he muttered in uninterested tone.

“Quite so,” Norrington replied shortly.

Jack let out a low, meditative hum from the back of his throat. He rolled up the chart he was holding, turning slightly and stuffing it back in the shelf where he took it from. Turning back to face Norrington, he regarded the Commodore under the rim of his tri-corn hat for a short moment, his kohl-brimmed eyes narrowed.

“Well,” he finally said airily, raising his brows. Stalking forward the few steps to the chair on the other side of the desk, Jack sat down and crossed his legs. Spreading his arms to his sides, Jack grinned. “Let’s hear it, then!”

Norrington was silent for a moment, and then leaned forward in his chair, interlacing his fingers and resting his hands over the desk. “I want this woman captured and brought in front of justice for her actions. She’s a threat to the safety of the British citizens; therefore it is my duty to see that she is apprehended.”

Jack eyed the Commodore in suspicion, toying with one of the braids on his goatee absentmindedly. “Admirable goal, to be sure… and what exactly does this noble ambition of yours have to do with whatever it is you’re about to propose?”

Again, the Commodore was quiet for a moment. Finally, he exhaled, bracing himself for the suggestion that had formed in his mind a while back. “If you and your crew help me detain Captain Delgado… I shall see to it that you will receive full pardon for your crimes against the Crown.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up, his long fingers playing with the braid going still. Whatever Jack had been figuring the Commodore would come up with; this was certainly the last thing he’d expected.

Effectively masking his initial surprise, Jack smirked in his usual, smug manner. “Well, I must say, Commodore… that is truly, very interesting.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 10 - All Roads Lead To Tortuga

You could barely suppress the relieved sigh when the whole matter with Delgado’s attack and Jack’s rescue of Norrington and his men was finally explained to Governor Swann. Will and Elizabeth had told him everything, even about the map. He had listened attentively, nodding his understanding every now and then. You’d decided to just keep quiet and listen, speaking up only if anyone asked a question. You were starting to get impatient, and wondered what Jack and Norrington were talking about. You just hoped they would hurry up so you could get you out of this place soon. You gaze absently in the teacup cradled in your right hand; the maid, Marie or something like that, had kept refilling the small cup every time you set it down on the table. You'd tried glaring at her subtly so she'd stop doing that, but she was completely oblivious to your signs. Luckily, she'd been excused a moment ago and had retreated to the adjoining room.

The Governor shakes his head finally, after contemplating the story for a minute. “Unbelievable... So, where is Commodore Norrington now? I would like to have a word with him.”

“He’s at the Fort with Captain Sparrow. He wanted to discuss something with him,” Will replies.

“But I’m sure they’ll stop by once they have everything settled,” Elizabeth hurries to say.

The Governor looks a bit shocked at this. “Here? That pirate?”

You frown at the distasteful way the comment was said. Before you can retort, Elizabeth speaks up.

“Father! A pirate or not, Jack Sparrow is a good man. Not only is he our friend, but he also saved the Commodore and his men from certain death! Have you ever heard of a pirate helping the officer of the Royal Navy? I think he deserves a bit more respect than that,” she says, surprisingly sharply.

You almost automatically correct Elizabeth for forgetting the ‘Captain’, but manage to keep your mouth shut. You feel amused at this; shows how well the man has gotten that notion in your head. With a smirk, you take a sip of your warm tea. It wasn't actually that bad, once you got used to it.

The Governor looks startled at Elizabeth’s ardent words, gaping at her. After a moment, he shakes his head again wearily. “I… I suppose you’re correct, Elizabeth. That is certainly unheard of,” he admits at length.

Elizabeth smiles gently. “Jack’s a good man, father,” she repeats softly.

“Yes, you certainly seem to think so,” he smiles back, before going serious again. “Well… if both you and Commodore Norrington speak for him, then I have nothing more to say in the matter. I trust your judgment, even if I still have my own reservations.”

Will smiles slightly. “There’s nothing to worry about, Governor. I, too, vouch for Jack.”

The Governor nods with a small smile. “Then the matter is settled, I suppose,” he says sagely, glancing at you. “And what about you, dear child? I hope that Captain Sparrow treats you with respect and is… good for you.”

You raise your brows inquisitively. “Uh, yes, he does respect me…” you trail off uncertainly, not quite sure what to make of the question.

“I see,” the Governor nods. “If you don’t mind me asking… does he plan on making you an honest woman anytime in the near future?”

Your eyes grow wide. “Come again?”

Governor Swann looks hesitant. “Well, I am assuming that you two live in a… relationship. A pirate or not, I would expect him to do the honourable thing!”

“In a relation–” you start incredulously, stopping short. Where has he gotten that idea?! You glance at Will and Elizabeth in hopes of some clarity, and see that they’re both grinning broadly. This is actually amusing them!

“I’m sure you remember your sudden departure a year ago?” Elizabeth asks you with a mischievous smirk.

“Aye,” you reply slowly in wary tone.

“Governor Swann is referring to your rather public display of affection after you fell down in the sea,” Will finishes with a smile.

Oh... That.

You laugh a little, blushing lightly. A year back, you were so caught up in the fact that you’d escaped that you hadn’t even thought that the remaining people up on the battlement would have witnessed the rather fervent kiss Jack gave you after you emerged from the water. Bloody hell.

“Oh, that, that was just… No, no,” you shake your head, glancing at the perplexed Governor. “Jack and I are not together like that. We’re just friends. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, I’m sure. We were just happy to be free and alive. That’s it,” you finish, forcing a small smile.

Governor Swann seems a bit disturbed by the fact that someone would kiss you (or that you’d kiss someone) like that, before marriage no less, but manages a smile finally. “I see. My apologies for being so presumptuous.”

“It’s alright,” you reply with a quick smile.

Harold, the butler, suddenly appears on the entrance of the parlour. “Milord, Commodore Norrington and Captain Sparrow are here,” he announces with a small bow of his head.

Governor Swann nods, standing up. “Show them here, please.”

Harold leaves again, and you exhale quietly, relieved to be off the hook. The last thing you needed right now was speculation of the relationship between you and Jack. Sometimes, you weren’t really sure yourself what it was exactly the two of you had.

After a moment, the butler returns to the parlour with Norrington and Jack in tow, and you smile at the way Jack is glancing around with the typical air of nonchalance about him, even though you know he's in fact very aware of everything and everyone round.

"Good afternoon, Governor Swann," Norrington greets him with a small nod and a smile.

Jack tears his carefully evaluating gaze away from the silvery candleholders placed atop the fine table a nearby, and faces the Governor. With flourish, he takes his hat off and holds it to his chest, bowing deeply while sweeping his free hand in the air.

"A very fine afternoon to you, Governor," he grins broadly as he straightens his stance, the trinkets in his hair clinking at the movement. "As… captivating as your esteemed little town was the last time around, it seems that Port Royal has only grown more enchanting over the year," he smirks, and you hide your impish grin behind your palm at the double-meaning of his words.

Will and Elizabeth too seem to be having troubles hiding their smiles, while Norrington looks slightly vexed again. You idly wonder how their meeting went, and did Norrington manage to keep his cool with Jack who, undoubtedly, did his best to be difficult.

"Captain Sparrow," the Governor replies with somewhat forced politeness, "How… pleasant too see you. Again."

Now somehow, you get the feeling the Governor could have pushed the reunion ahead with yet another year, judging by his tone.

"The pleasure's all mine, to be sure," Jack assures graciously while twiddling his fingers fleetingly, totally unperturbed despite the Governor's mostly false courteousness. “Suppose you don’t mind if I sit down for a bit, aye?”

Without waiting for a reply, Jack grins at the Governor and sashays over to the settee you’re currently occupying, sitting down on your right side and patting your knee as he does so. You arch your brow inquiringly at this, but Jack just smiles in return, leaning back a little and draping his right arm casually over the backrest of the settee.

The butler pours some tea in one of the excess cups on the tray, and offers it to Jack. Jack’s eyebrows shoot up as he regards it warily, darting his eyes from the cup to the stoic butler. Noticing that both Norrington and the Governor are watching him, Jack takes the offered cup from the older man after a moment, flashing a rather forced smile at the butler. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from snickering at the image. The butler leaves the parlour soon after.

“So, Captain Sparrow… I understand that we are indebted to you for allowing the Commodore here and his crew to board your ship. Rather unselfish act for a pirate, don’t you agree?” the Governor questions Jack in somewhat curious tone.

“Well, what can I say, mate,” Jack starts smoothly, smirking. “I was feeling charitable.”

You smile softly at this. Sure you were, Jack. A pirate he may be, but Jack was not a murderer. You’d also learned over the months that he tended to avoid conflicts and fights, preferring to talk or trick his way out of such situations and relaying on his cutlass on when absolutely necessary. He does have his morals; some of them are maybe more flexible than others, but he’d never take the blame of leaving anyone to die on his conscience if he could do something to prevent it.

“I’m sure Commodore Norrington will think of a way to express our gratitude,” the Governor says diplomatically with a ghost of a smile, and you notice that Norrington looks a bit hesitant at that comment.

Jack’s smirk turns smug. “Oh yes, the good Commodore and I had a nice converse about that in the Fort.”

This piques your interest immensely and you raise your brows curiously; what could have gotten Jack so pleased? And what was up with Norrington?

“Really?” Weatherby Swann asks in interested tone, turning to regard Norrington. “Would you mind sharing this with us?”

As son as the Governor and Norrington are engaged in their own discussion, Jack eyes the teacup with distasteful sneer, before discreetly glancing around for something. He raises his brow and narrows his eyes a little in contemplative fashion as he gazes at the large potted plant situated next to the settee you’re sitting on.

“Actually, Governor, I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private, if that’s of no trouble? There are few issues I need to address,” Norrington says fairly vaguely.

In the meantime, Jack promptly extends his arm holding the cup and quickly pours the offending liquid over the roots of the plant, the tea absorbing in the black soil stuffed inside the clay pot. You chuckle quietly at this, biting your lower lip while trying to stop. Will coughs a few times, and as you glance in his direction, you see that it was to smother his own laugh. Elizabeth shakes her head in disapproving manner, but despite that, a small smile plays in the corner of her mouth. Jack looks at you with an innocent ‘what?’ -face.

“Right,” the Governor replies, “Let’s take this to the study then, shall we?” he suggests, glancing back at the four of you sitting on the settees. “Elizabeth, I’m sure you’ll take care of our… guests?”

“Of course, father,” Elizabeth says with a smile. Satisfied with this, the Governor returns her smile and leaves the parlour with Norrington. After being certain that both men are out of earshot, Elizabeth smiles sweetly at Jack. “More tea, Jack?”

Jack makes a disgusted face, placing the empty cup on the table. “I think I’ll pass your kind offer. In fact, I’d rather drink bilge water than that muck.”

You smirk in amusement. “Bet you’d drink it if it were spiked.”

Jack contemplates on this. “It’s a possibility. Depends really with what and how much.”

“So Jack, what did Norrington wanted to speak to you about?” Will interrupts your banter curiously, and you gaze at Jack expectantly as well.

Jack grins mischievously, again leaning back against the backrest of the settee. “Now that, William, was a rather interesting turn of events… And one that, I must confess, I enjoyed immeasurably. I tell you, your dear Commodore must be in a real tight spot to even be thinking of such thing.”

“Which was…?” you prod after Jack’s long-winded prattle that revealed nothing.

Jack remains silent for a moment, never losing the grin that again had a smug quality to it. “Commodore Norrington, the well-known pirate antagonist of the Caribbean… has just asked me, Captain Jack Sparrow, the grandest and greatest pirate in the whole Spanish Main, to help him catch the spiteful hellcat known as Captain Gabriela Delgado.”

You, Will and Elizabeth are all quiet at this revelation. Then, all of you make a question at the same time.

“But the Commodore hates pirates, why you?” Elizabeth asks, slightly perplexed.

“What makes him think you would help him?” Will muses cautiously.

“Where’s the catch?” you enquire suspiciously. “There has to be one…”

Jack shrugs a little. “The way I see it, the Commodore is in a real fix with Delgado; she’s being really mean and goes around the Caribbean killing off British subjects that are under his protection, no? Not to mention he must be a bit ticked about losing another ship. So,” Jack pauses for an effect, waving his hand a little, “He figures he gets a pirate to catch a pirate. Takes one to know one, and all that.”

Elizabeth sighs. “I admit it makes sense. I think. But still, why you?”

Jack gives Elizabeth an incredulous look. “Why not me? I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, darling!”

“So you agreed to help Norrington, then?” Will asks, wanting to be sure.

“Aye. Like I said,” Jack smirks. “I was feeling charitable.”

“Forgive me my cynicism, but I don’t think you’re doing this just out of the goodness of your heart. What’s the profit in it for you?” you ask Jack with raised brows.

Jack grins in appreciation. “There’s no fooling you, is there? Alright then. The Commodore promised me a full pardon if I’ll lend him a hand,” he says nonchalantly, and the three of you gape at him.

“A full pardon?” you repeat. “Honestly?”

Jack flashes you a quick grin, lifting his brows a bit. “Very honestly.”

After a moment of silence, Will speaks up again. “So, what exactly do you intend to do in order to detain Delgado?”

Smirking, Jack replies lazily, “A matter of leverage, dear William. Just a matter of leverage, brilliant in all its simplicity.”

Raising a brow, you speak up. “The map?”

Jack nods once with his eyes narrowed, small smirk playing in the corner of his mouth. “She wants that map, badly. Otherwise she wouldn’t be wasting her time sacking all those ships. Where there’s the map, there’s Delgado. Simple enough math,” Jack says, his hand coming up to absently play with one of the plaits on his goatee. “Although, that map does peak my interest…”

“So, Delgado has one piece of the map, and now you have the missing half that they’ve been searching for,” Elizabeth recapitulates. “Where does it lead?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Jack says with amused lilt in his tone. “Luckily, you know the man who knows the man who knows all there is to know about this particular map.”

You frown a bit at this. “Why didn’t you tell this earlier?”

“It crossed my mind only a while before we anchored. See, as I took a final look at the map before getting here, I noticed that there was a crest drawn in the corner of the piece. Even if it was badly worn, I still recognized it. It belongs to the Fowler’s, an old family of seafarers. I happen to know a certain Captain Lucas Fowler, though I haven’t seen him in a while…” Jack explains. “So if anyone knows about the map, it’s him.”

“Captain Fowler?” Elizabeth asks.

“Pirate,” Jack replies with a smirk.

“Of course,” Elizabeth rolls her eyes.

“Do you know where he can be found, then?” you ask Jack. The name “Fowler” sparks no recognition in you.

“Aye. He has settled down in Tortuga,” Jack grins fondly in recollection of his favourite town.

“Tortuga?” Elizabeth repeated with slight resentment in her tone.

“Tortuga!” Jack echoed reverently with, if possible, even wider grin.

“Tortuga, great,” you grin as well. “When do we set sail?”

Jack’s grin vanishes, and his expression turns a bit hesitant. “See, about that, luv…”

Elizabeth, however, interrupts. “I want to come with you.”

Both you and Jack look at her in disbelief.

“Elizabeth, you realize that your wedding is in four days?” you ask her after a moment.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Will voices his doubt.

“I’m perfectly aware of that. But I’m sure we’ll make it back by then, won’t we Jack?”

“Probably,” Jack agrees, “But there’s just this little problem, involving both of you…” Jack trails off, pointing his finger between you and Elizabeth.

You don’t like the sound of this. “What problem exactly, Jack?” you ask pointedly, frowning.

Jack looks at you with a serious expression, though his dark eyes seem somewhat pleading. “I want you to sit this one out and stay here until we’ve taken care of Delgado.”

Your eyes widen. What? Did Jack just say he wanted you to stay in Port Royal when he, Norrington and the rest of the crew sailed to Tortuga?! Why the hell should you, you’re part of the crew as well! The nerve of him!

“Excuse me?!” you exclaim incredulously, glaring at Jack and use the worldwide female sign of irritation. In other words, you plant your fists on your hips. “Why?!”

Jack gestures placatingly with his hands. “Now, calm down, luv! I want to you stay because it’s for the best, alright? I know you can look after yourself, but none of you have any idea what that woman is capable of. Believe me; she’s not to be taken lightly.”

You sigh, forcing yourself to calm down. “I figured that she’s not exactly a nice woman, but don’t you think I should be the one deciding what’s best for me? C’mon Jack, you can’t be serious!”

“I’m very serious. I‘m asking you nicely, please, stay here with Elizabeth until we get back,” Jack asks, waving his hands slightly in emphasis.

“No, I won’t,” you reply with an angry frown.

Jack makes an irritated noise from his throat. “Damn it, woman! Must you always be so bloody stubborn?!” he says in frustration, glancing at Will. “Will, help me out here!”

Both you and Elizabeth glare at Will, who swallows nervously before speaking up. “I’m sorry, but I think Jack is right in this. You should stay here where it’s safe.”

“Oh, really?” Elizabeth says in freezing tone.

“Safe!” you cry in aggravation. “I can take care of myself, for crying out loud!”

“I know, I know,” Jack assures hurriedly, “But that isn’t the point here.”

“Well I’m failing to see the bloody point!” you snap crossly.

Jack winces slightly at your tone, but quickly plasters a smile on his face. “Look at it as a bit of a time off, a vacation! You can get re-acquainted with your uncle and all! It’ll only be a few days; we’ll be back before you know it.”

“Jack, I’m part of your crew, or did it slip your mind? I’m coming with you,” you say forcefully.

Jack stares at you for a moment, and you hold his gaze rebelliously. “That’s right,” Jack finally agrees. “You are part of me crew. And as your Captain, I’m ordering you to stay here, savvy?”

You inhale sharply, looking at Jack disbelievingly. “You’re pulling a rank on me?” you ask, with slightly offended tone. Never before had Jack specifically ordered you to do anything.

“Aye. I’m sorry about that, but that’s obviously the one way out of this,” Jack says resolutely.

You cross your arms over your chest, looking away from Jack. Damn him! The nerve of him, pulling a stunt like that! While you feel like stubbornly arguing with him again, you know you can’t. You are still under his command, and one of your ethical guidelines, one that your father always used to emphasize, is to respect the Captain and his orders. Jack has effectively pushed you into a corner in which there is only one way out.

“Very well, Captain,” you say, your anger still boiling. “I’ll stay.”

Jack is quiet for a moment, and you have no idea what he’s thinking about since you refuse to look at him. “Good,” he says quietly after a while.

In that same moment, Governor Swann and Norrington return to the parlour.

“Alright, Commodore Norrington has informed me of…” the Governor trails off after noticing the obvious tension in the room, and the aggravated expressions on both yours and Elizabeth’s faces. Commodore Norrington looks puzzled as well.

“Apparently we have missed something. Would somebody mind telling us what…?”

* * *

You stand near the entrance of the mansion with your arms crossed, watching as Will and Elizabeth bicker remarkably quietly a while away. Norrington had already left to set up the Dauntless. After Jack had announced to the Governor than you’d be staying here until they return, Will had expressed his desire to go with Jack and Norrington. Well, Jack had been delighted, but naturally, Elizabeth was less than enthusiastic. This also increased you annoyance and hurt; Will could go, but you weren’t allowed to come along. Did that Jack really think so little of you? That bloody mangy bonehead.

Your black thoughts were interrupted as Jack walks up to you, his chocolate brown eyes pleading you to understand. “Luv, please don’t be so mad. We’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” he tells you quietly.

With one last look to your eyes, turns around and walks out with Will who has now settled things with Elizabeth. Or so you thought, but a look at Elizabeth tells you the contrary; she’s just as pissed as you.

The butler, Harold, shuts the large outdoors behind them, and you suddenly feel like a caged wild animal.

“This is for the best, for the both of you,” the Governor breaks the silence, and you bite your lip slightly to keep quiet. The Governor had seemed genuinely happy that you’d staying for a while, and you didn’t want to disrespect the man with a snappy comment. “Elizabeth, I’m sure you’ll show your cousin her room?”

Elizabeth smiled thinly and nodded, obviously starting to feel sad about Will leaving. The Governor smiles, saying something about having something to do and seeing you later for tea, and leaves you two alone. You weren’t really listening to him, since your mind was already running a mile a minute.

“If Jack thinks he can just leave me here while he’s off to Tortuga, he has another thing coming,” you say determinately out loud, your rebellious side awakening.

Elizabeth looks at you in puzzlement. “Are you thinking about going with them, after all?”

You meet Elizabeth’s gaze, slow grin pulling your lips upwards. The plan was already forming in your mind. “Oh, yes. Are you with me?”

Elizabeth regards you for a moment, and smirks. “Definitely!”

With Elizabeth’s lead, you two quickly dash up the long stairwell, heading to Elizabeth’s room.

“You’ll need a change of wardrobe if you’re coming with us to Tortuga,” you say while glancing around Elizabeth’s spacious room. “Those dresses of yours stand out a bit too much.”

“You’re right,” she agrees, thinking for a moment. “Oh, I know just the place. You wait here for a moment,” she says excitedly, and rushes out of the room.

You shrug and head towards the window, opening it. You could see the Pearl anchored over at the cove, not too far away from the docks. It wouldn’t take long to row there. You wondered how much you had time; it would take a while to ready the Pearl, but you figured you’d still have to hurry up.

Elizabeth returned then, slamming the door shut awkwardly behind her as she dumped a huge pile of clothing on the bed. There’s a louder sound of something hitting the floor, but you can’t see what caused it.

“What’s this?” you ask her curiously, lifting a slightly yellowed shirt out of the pile.

“These are some of my father’s old clothes. He never throws anything away, these have been stored away,” she replies while going through the clothes.

“Aha,” you hum as you scrutinized the pile, subconsciously mimicking Jack. Elizabeth glanced at you and raised her brow.

Noticing her stare, you shake your head a little in inquiring manner. “What?”

Elizabeth smirks a bit, but returns her attention to the matter at hand. “Oh, nothing.”

You frown, but decide to let it slide. After a moment, you’d rummaged though the clothes and picked up the clean, small and undamaged items. Finally, Elizabeth was decked in brown trousers and a light blue shirt, with another smaller shirt underneath it. The pants were a bit too big, but Elizabeth had grabbed a small belt somewhere with her and tied it around her waist. She quickly unpinned her hair, freeing it from the elaborate do and tied it on a simple ponytail that hung down her back. On her feet she has worn, old boots.

“Not bad,” you gave your honest opinion. “Good, that’s good. We really have to go now before they set sail.”

Elizabeth hurries to a large closet on the other side of the room and pulls down some neatly folded white sheets, tossing them to you. “You start tying them together, while I write a quick note to my father. We can’t leave though the front door, the servants will notice and tell father,” she says, while making her way to her desk and pulling out some parchment from the drawer.

You raise your brow while looking at the sheets, but unroll them and start tying them together. “I get the feeling this is not the first time you’ve done this…”

Elizabeth grins while dipping the quill in the small inkbottle. “It isn’t. Remember when you and Jack rowed in the cave on Isla de Muerta after Jack got the Commodore to help Will?”

“Aye,” you reply curtly as you tie yet sheet to the string you’ve created.

“Well, the Commodore and father had me literally drag to the captain’s quarters and locked me in so I couldn’t interfere. So I tied up the sheets I found and climbed down from the porthole to the small rowboat. Then I rowed first to the Black Pearl to free Jack’s crew, and then back in the cave after they refused to help me,” Elizabeth tells you as she writes.

“Really?” you ask as you keep tying the sheets. “That’s quite something.”

Elizabeth finishes the note, capping the inkbottle and setting down the quill. Leaving the parchment on the desk, she rushes next to you to help. After a moment, you decide it’s long enough. You tie the other end tightly around the leg of Elizabeth’s massive bed, yanking it to make sure it holds. Satisfied when the knots hold, you nod to Elizabeth who grins back.

“Will told me he had to stop by the smithy first, so that should give us some more time,” she tells you as you take the improvised rope of yours over the opened window, glancing down. It’s quite high, but after the fall of battlements, nothing really seems too high to you anymore.

“Okay, let’s go,” you say determinately, and you drop the sheets down. It reaches the ground perfectly, and you lift yourself up on the windowsill. “I’ll go first, I’m probably heavier than you,” you tell Elizabeth. It was most likely true; working on the ship all day tended to build up some muscle.

“Be careful,” Elizabeth says as you manage to descend down the first step, clutching tightly at the sheets and bracing yourself with your feet against the house. Carefully you start to inch down, moving one hand under another. Finally, you’re only about a yard away from the ground and let go, landing solidly on your feet. In the meanwhile, Elizabeth has followed your example, already starting to descend down. You watch her process, while glancing around to make sure nobody sees you. After another moment, Elizabeth’s feet touch the ground and she lets go, turning to you.

“Ready to go?” you ask with a grin.

“Follow me,” she grins in return, “I know a shortcut through that wood.”

With one last glance at the house, you offer the Governor a mental apology for not staying for tea, and trot after Elizabeth who heads towards the rich vegetation growing around the mansion.

CHAPTERS 11-15

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