CHAPTER 6 - In The Brig

You run to the galley, and find Gibbs sitting with the crew. Rushing over, you grab his arm, pulling him towards Jack’s room.

“Gibbs! Jack’s hurt!...you have to help me!” pulling him along behind you, you dash back up to Captains Quarters. You drop Gibbs’ arm, and rush over next to Jack’s side, placing your hand on his head, speaking quickly to Gibbs.

“Quick! Get me some water! And a cloth!” you turn back to Jack, worry creasing your face. Suddenly realizing you haven’t heard Gibbs move, you turn slowly, cautious.

“Gibbs.....?” your brow furrows at the sight of him standing there, looking at you imploringly. He’s holding a bottle of rum at his side.

“Gibbs! What...” your voice trails off as he walks over, whispering harshly in your ear.

“Sorry lass...” you hear a sound like breaking glass, and feel an immeasurable amount of pain in the back of your head. You drop to the bed, and the last thing you see before being engulfed in darkness is Gibbs looming over you, still holding the neck of a now broken bottle.

* * * *

You slip into dreams, fuzzy images dancing behind your eyelids, taunting you with pictures of riches, glory, love... Frowning, you zero in on one vision in particular...you are standing at the helm of a mighty ship, wind in your hair, head held up proudly. Jack is standing behind you, hands around your middle. You smile, knowing you’re safe and he’ll never let go. Suddenly a storm blows in from nowhere, and the gentle breeze now whips violently about you two. You feel his hand being pried from around you, and turn around to clutch at him, but he’s gone, whipped away by the wind and hurled into Davy Jones’ Locker. You will never see him again.

Gasping, you wake up, bolting up into a sitting position before your eyes are even open. You’re breathing heavily, and you realize that you’ve sat up right into Jack’s embrace. His arms fold warmly around you, and you grip his shoulders tightly, biting back the tears stinging your eyes. Pirates don’t cry. You’re not even sure why that dream was so upsetting.

“Shh...It’s all right, luv. Only a dream...” his voice soothes you, and he rubs your back slowly. Gradually your release your death grip on him. Breathing in a shaky but deep breath, you pull out of his arms. Clearing your throat, in an attempt to get rid of the rather uncomfortable lump that formed there, you stand up and survey your surroundings. You grow more furious with every second. You’re in the brig...locked in the god forsaken brig! Frowning, you try to remember what happened. You move to lie down and put your hands behind your head. Bolting upright again, you wince in pain. Seeing Jack’s concerned look, you clear your expression, waving a careless hand.

“Nothing...it’s nothing.” He frowns and shakes his head, moving over to you. You wave your hands again, trying to shoo him away.

“It’s nothing. Really. Just a little bruise...” He walks around behind you, gently parting your hair on the back of your head. He places a finger lightly on your wound, and you inhale sharply.

“Ahhh... so it’s not nothing...how’d this happen? There’s a cut too, luv. Deep one...looks pretty bad...” you shrug, trying to appear as if you didn’t feel like your head was splitting in two. His questions makes you wonder though...how did this happen? You rack your memory, trying to recall the events leading up to you waking in this prison. Glimpses of memories flit before your eyes, and then it all comes back in a rush, not aiding the pain in your head. Jack...in the bathroom, unconscious, running to find someone, Gibbs staring at you blankly, whispering into your ear, seeing him standing over you, blanketed with darkness, holding a broken rum bottle... your eyes widen, and you put a hand to your mouth in shock.

“What? What is it?” Jack turns to face you, eyes filled with concern. You look up at him, eyes sad and full of remorse.

“It was Gibbs. He did this. He...” you struggle to find the words, anger quickly replacing sadness. “...he hit me over the head...with yer rum...” you look up at Jack again; he’s looking away, jaw clenched and fists balled at his sides. He turns to you, and you see his eyes are filled with hate. A fire burns inside them, seemingly pouring out from his soul. Slightly alarmed, you place a hand on his arm, only to withdraw it quickly when he jumps. Holding your hands tightly in your lap, you stare at your knees. You see Jack walk over to the opposite side of the cell, muttering to himself. You catch a few words...

"Bloody...I’m a CAPTAIN...Jack Sparrow...the indignity...bloody traitor...” You continue to study your hands. Your head snaps up as your hear approaching footsteps. Trying your best to look nonchalant, you recline on the floor, propped up on your elbows. Jack leans against the wall, twirling his braids on his beard. Anamaria walks into view, eyes unsure but head held high. You growl as she places a tray down just outside the cell, and looks up at you.

“Sorry...” you hear her breathe, glancing at Jack. He stares back coldly.

“Jack...” she tries to explain. “Gibbs...he...bloody hell...I’m just a pirate! I’m not trustworthy....and I’m certainly not a hero!” she’s trying to sound angry, but you can tell she’s pleading. And you get the feeling she’s not only trying to convince you and Jack...

She looks at Jack, eyes shining. Suddenly Jack’s arm snakes through the bars and is at her throat. She gasps, but doesn’t cry out or try to move. You can’t tell how hard Jack is holding her neck, but you don’t care.

‘Bloody traitor’ you think.

“The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers...” Jack growls, and releases her neck. You are surprised to see a very visible hand impression on her dark skin. Placing a hand to her throat and casting a glance in your direction, she spits on the ground. She stands there for a moment, until Jack walks back up to the bars again. Their faces are only inches apart. She looks at him, and smiles timidly. He grins, then barks loudly.

She jumps about three feet in the air, eyes wide and terrified. You burst out laughing, so hard. Even harder than two days earlier with Jack. She tries to regain her composure, glaring at you and Jack. You don’t notice at all. You’re too busy rolling on the ground, grabbing your sides with laughter. Jack’s looking at you, grinning widely, and chuckling himself. Anamaria stomps back up on deck.

You can’t stop laughing. Jack squats down next to you, eyes twinkling. You’re gasping for air now from laughing so hard. He chuckles, and sits down next to your writhing body. You sit up, trying to compose yourself. Impossible. You keep bursting into fits of giggles, and what’s worse, is that now you really have to pee.

“Ahhhh! Aw bloody hell!” you manage to gasp out between bouts of laughter. Jack’s looking at you amusedly.

“What?” he asks. “Was it really that funny?” you nod fiercely, and then grab your lower stomach.

“Ooooohhh....now I gotta pee like...well...like somethin’ that has to pee a lot.” You curl up into a ball, trying to stop laughing. Jack grins wickedly.

“Jest try not t’ think of anythin’ with water...like the big blue ocean were surrounded by for leagues...or the torrential rains we’ll be heading into if we’re goin’ where I think we are...or Niagara Falls....or...or...” he slows, trying to think of something else that gushes water.

“Oh! Or a tiny hole in the bottom of a ship. With sea water rushing through at more than 100 litres per minute!” he finished triumphantly, looking at your now writhing body in amusement. Your eyes are wide with fear, fear of wetting yourself in front of the great Jack Sparrow. You manage to take a hand from your stomach to punch him in the arm. You cross your legs tightly, and focus on calm...calm like the breeze in your hair...calm like the steady breathing of a sleeping child...calm like the constant beat of rain on the roof...sighing, you open your eyes. You have successfully avoided recreating the crash of the Titanic, and you are that much a better person for it. (A/N: So I know titanic wasn’t around then, but whatever. I wanted to say that for like...forever. on with the show, mates!) Getting up cautiously, just in case you ‘leaked,’ you move over to the door of the cell. Fully confident that you didn’t leak at all, you bend down and pick up a piece of bread from the tray Anamaria left. Looking at it curiously, you turn to Jack, rolling your eyes. Motioning to the bread, you swing back around and hit it against the metal cell bars. A loud *Clink Clink Clink* meets your ears. Smiling faintly, you turn back to Jack, shrugging your shoulders. You bite into this so-called bread, wincing as your jaw creaked. You gnaw on it savagely for a few minutes, making no progress whatsoever. Looking at Jack wearily, you frown. He’s chuckling silently at your desperate efforts!

“Oy! NOT funny! Ye try it if yer so clever, CAPTAIN...” you toss him the other piece of bread, actually throwing was a more accurate word. He misses it, and it hits him in the shoulder, falling onto his lap. Rubbing his shoulder, he grins and bites down hard on the bread. He winces and spits it out, now massaging his shoulder and his jaw. You snort, rolling your eyes and grabbing the goblet. At least they gave you some rum... taking a swig, you splutter and spray it out of your mouth, eyes wide in horror.

“What’s wrong luv...nature callin’?” he smirks. “I know it can’t be that the rum’s bad. No such thing as bad rum on me ship...” he grins and walks over. You look up at him, still holding the goblet. You’re not sure how he’ll react to this news...

“Jack...it’s not rum. It’s water.”

Eyes widening...he snatches the bottle from your hands, bringing it swiftly to his lips. He swallows, then throws the bottle down on the ground, smashing it.

“Bloody ‘ELL!!” he walks animatedly in circles around your small prison, hands waving madly in front of him. He’s mumbling to himself again, occasionally cursing the air and wailing. You chuckle, very much amused by his tactics. He’s like a little boy who can’t find his mommy, or a girl without her doll. Jack Sparrow without his rum. You laugh outright that the situation and he turns to you, eyes boring deep into yours.

“You find this amusing, luv?” you nod, biting your lip to keep from exploding into his face.

“Well...we’ll see how amusing you find it after a while. I get rather feisty if I don’t have me rum...” you grimace, and stop laughing. He nods and smirks at you, then turns away. You let out a silent giggle while his back is turned, and raise your eyebrows innocently when he spins around again.

“What?” You? Do anything? Naw. You’re a picture of innocence.... He snorts at your image, and sits down against the wall, patting the wood beside him. You take a seat.

He leans up close to you, so his beard tickles your ear. You suppress a shiver.

“So...what do we do now, luv? Huddle together for warmth? Make love like there’s no tomorrow? Hold each other and whisper sweet nothingness into one and others ears?” you chuckle, leaning back so you can look him in the eye.

“How bout we sleep?” you reply, smirking. His face falls, and he pouts adorably.

“Are ye sure luv? I would hate fer ye do die without experiencin’ the immense pleasure that *is* Captain Jack Sparrow...” he whispers huskily into your ear again, and this time you can’t hold down the shiver running through your body. He chuckles, pleased at your reaction. As much as it tempts you, you nod your head.

“Yea. I’m sure. Thank ye ever so kindly fer the offer though. Don’t hold yer breath. Or perhaps, do hold yer breath. Then maybe I can get some sleep...” you smirk at him, and notice a smile playing on the corners of his lips. You lie down, carefully avoiding your bruise, and sigh heavily. You close your eyes, trying to image you’re back in Jack’s bed with the rich comforters and deep pillows, surrounded by warmth. Suddenly you feel said Captains breath on the side of your face, then your neck. Pretending to be asleep, you ignore him. He knows you’re awake, and talks to you in that low, sexy voice of his.

“Are ye scared, luv? Terrified of me? Or are ye worried I won’t live up to your nightly fantasies? Or...” he ran a finger over your collarbone, and you can tell by his voice that he’s grinning, “...are ye still a virgin?”

At this, your entire body tenses, and your slow and even breathing hitches in your throat. Your eyes move back and forth rapidly under your eyelids, horrified that he may have realized he struck gold. You worst fear was confirmed when he spoke again.

“Ahhh....I see I’ve hit a nerve, lass. So ye *are* a virgin, eh?” you open your eyes, quickly narrowing them to slits as you look at his face. He looks down at you with his deep chocolate eyes.

“I don’t see how this is any of your business, Captain Sparrow.” Your heart is racing, wondering what he would say if he found the truth. You sit up, sliding out from underneath him. Standing, you walk over to the other side of the cell; pick up the piece of bread, and plop back down, chewing viciously. Inside, you’re shaking like hell, scared to death that the only man you wanted to not know you were a virgin would find out. He walks over slowly, and then crouches down so he’s eye level with you. Placing a rough hand under your chin, he lifts your head up.

“Are ye? Tell me honestly...I don’t care either way.” He looks straight into your eyes, searching your soul for an answer. Holding you head up by yourself, and breathing deeply, you say strongly

“Yes. I am.” You clench your teeth, not knowing why you told him. Damn those eyes!!! You knew they’d be trouble... sighing deep, you look up at him, expecting him to be appalled, or at the very least, laugh. Instead you meet a pair of friendly eyes, and a caring smile. Head still held up proudly, you look at him questioningly. His hand moves to your cheek, and you close your eyes, simply enjoying the feel of his skin against yours.

“Good.” He says quietly, and you blink, confused.

“Good?” you say, wondering what on earth he was rambling about. Your being a virgin was good? Since when was that ever good to him?

“Yea. Good.” He repeats, still cupping your face. You look into his eyes, and he stares right back into yours. You hold the stare for a bit, then break away, uncomfortable. You can tell he’s not too comfortable as well.

“Well, this way yer all mine....see? The only thing is...yer standards going to be set so high afterwards, yer not going to be able to settle for anyone but Jack from then on...poor girl...oh well. S’pose ye’ll have t’ follow me around every where I go...” you snort, glad the tense atmosphere is broken. Punching him lightly, you ask him quietly to not tell anyone else. He nods, understanding.

Another moment of tension and awkwardness ensues. Thankfully it’s disturbed by the sound of more footsteps coming down below deck.

Quickly, you close your eyes, pretending to be sleeping. Jack walks over to the other side of the brig, humming tunelessly. You hear a harsh voice, that of the cook, Darvey.

“Come on. Git up...Jack...wake yer strumpet!” you snap your eyes open, growling fiercely.

“I am nobody’s ‘STRUMPET’, Darvey.” You stand up, glaring daggers at him.

“...An’ that’s CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow t’ ye.” Darvey only snarls in reply, and opens the door to your cell. He pulls out a pistol, and holds it against your back.

"Ye first." He pushes you, and you walk out of your prison, glancing back at Jack. He shrugs, and you continue walking. Darvey leads you up to the deck, and then to Gibbs. Gibbs is standing at the helm, hands on the wheel.

'Jack's wheel,' you think savagely. Darvey leaves, supposedly to get Jack. Once he's disappeared down below deck again, you swing your arm back as hard as you can and punch Gibbs in the jaw. He reels, and places a hand to the newly forming bruise. Grinning sadistically, he motions to someone behind you. Suddenly arms grab yours, twisting them painfully behind your back. Another set of hands grabs your hair, yanking your neck back. You hiss as he hand remains on your bruise, causing intense pain to course through your body. You hear someone approaching from behind, and recognize immediately that it's Darvey with Jack. Who else could swear like that? Gibbs walks over so your faces are centimeters apart.

"Give us a kiss, eh, lass?" he leans in closer, and you wrench your head to the side, bringing your knee up sharply. You make contact, rather hard, and it's followed by a loud grunt and a harsh whisper.

"Mary, mother o' Jesus..." Gibbs doubles over, clutching his pride and joy as if it was going to fall off. Smiling smugly, you spit at his feet. After a moment, he stands up, wincing. Suddenly he strikes you across your face, sending your head snapping to one side rather painfully. You don't move your head back, just hang it there for a moment, horrified. You raise your eyes, and they come to rest on Jack, who's eyeing you with concern. Nodding slightly, you turn back to face Gibbs, your face burning where he struck it. You find him toying with a pistol, spinning it around his fingers playfully. Suddenly he moves it to the butt end of it is against your temple. You can feel the cold metal against your skin.

"G'night lassie..." the pistol slams into your head, and you see no more.

* * * *

"Luv! Luv, wake up! C'mon..." a voice pleads above you. A familiar voice...Jack!

"Luv...C'mon now...wakey wakey..." you blink your eyes several times, seeing two Jack's hovering above you.

"Yer awake! Thank the heavens..." he mutters the last part under his breath, but you still catch it. Quirking an eyebrow, you sit up.

"Worried bout little ol' me, Jack?" you grin and he only shrugs.

"Fer yer welfare, more's like it. Don't want ye to die virgin, right?" he winks at your appalled expression. Turning away from him, you take stock of your surroundings. You're in a small boat, along with three other men. Looking back in the distance, you can see the Pearl floating just beyond the crest of the waves, anchored. Turning back, you see an island, wreathed in fog and mist, appear in front of you. Gasping, you realize where you are.

"Isle de Muerta." Jack voices your thoughts, and you grimace. Perfect. The very place you wanted to be. The little boat bumps against the shore, and two of the men jump out, pulling it up onto the dark sand. The third grabs you by the arms, and ties you to Jack. Both your hands are tied together behind your backs. Lovely. This will definitely make escaping a little bit harder... stumbling out of the boat with difficulty, the men order you two to walk forward. You walk, dragging Jack slightly behind you, who's walking backwards. You squeeze his hand apologetically, and slow your pace. After what seems like an eternity of walking, you find yourself in a cave. A cave filled with gold, riches, plunder, jewels...your eyes widen in awe, and Jack speaks for the first time since the boat.

"Amazin' ain't it, luv? All me plunder... 15 years it took me to get all this...then that bloody pirate steals it..." you know he's talking about Barbosa, and you squeeze his hand again to show you're sorry. The worst thing, besides losing your ship, is losing your plunder. You're walked over to the middle of the cave, and you find yourself looking down at a huge chest, filled with golden coins. You're entire body years to sweep your hand through the gold, collecting as many as possible. Jack whispers harshly to you, warning you.

"Aztec gold that is. Cursed. Don't touch it. And fer the love of god, don't take one." You nod vigorously...something in his voice made your spine tingle. Suddenly Jack hissed, as if in anger. Since you have your back to him, you can't tell what's happening. You head the sound of footsteps approaching, and coins tinkling under them. A cold voice; a dead voice fills the cavern, making your flesh crawl and your heart pound.

"'Ello, Jack. We meet again..."

* * * * *

CHAPTER 7 - Explanations

You can help but flinch at the way this man’s voice reverberates horribly through the small cave. Jack’s entire body is tense against yours, and your eyes widen in wonder. Who is this man who has this affect on Jack Sparrow? You’re question in answered almost as soon as your think it.

“Barbosa...thought I got rid of ye.” Jack states plainly, fists clenching behind your back. You can tell how tense he really is, despite his careless voice.

“Ahhh...yes.... interesting story that is...Have ye got the time for a little ‘tea and a giggle’? Little chat among best mates? Ahh...silly me. Of course ye do. Make yerself comfortable missy, yer in fer a long tale...”

(Fer this part...imagine the events showing, with Barbosa talking...like a voice over. Yea. It's kinda a flashback, but not really.)

“Was two years ago, almost to the day, that yer bullet went through me heart. I could feel it...I could feel the air...the breath coming out of my lungs, my curséd life escaping with every passing second. Suddenly it was dark...and I realized that I would never again hold the wheel of a mighty ship....never again feel the sea air against my skin....never again have a woman in me bed. And do ye know what, Jack? I didn’t care. I really didn’t care. I was *glad* to be leaving this world. Pirate like meself....got nothing left to live for. So ye can imagine my shock when I wake up the next morning, still alive an’ kickin’. Don’ ask me what happened, cuz I don’t bloody know. But I’ve got a mission, Jacky-boy. I’m going to have meself me own *fleet*, with the Pearl at its head. Me own Pirate Fleet! The most terrible in all th’ Caribbean! But first...” he raised a finger to emphasis his statement, “I had to get me arse off this bloody island.” This is drawing on, and you yawn exaggeratedly, to show that you are not entertained. Barbosa walks around to face you and you see him for the first time. He *looks* like a pirate. He is perfectly fitted for the dirty clothes, wide hat, and toothy grin he wears so elegantly. You raise an eyebrow thoughtfully as he looked you over.

“Like what ye see?” you ask languidly. His eyes travel back to your face, and he smiles. Not nicely. Not evilly. Just....in a peculiar way. He replies, that odd smile never leaving his lips.

“Bloody hell, lass. Surely ye can’t be a pirate...look like ye’d be more fitted to tea and crumpets and corsets and fancy dresses. Despicable. Horrible excuse fer a pirate, if ye ask me...” his eyes glimmer evilly, and you sneer, spitting at his feet and bringing your knee up once again. This time you showed no mercy. All that you had and all that you were went into that one! And damn, were you proud!

“Bloody hell....” his voice was barely a whisper, and you chuckle appreciatively. Serves the bastard right! While his head is hanging down, you scramble with your fingers, trying to find a loose spot in your bindings. Hooking your finger around the knot, you begin to gently fiddle with the rope. Barbosa straightens up, and you stop. He walks around you and Jack, strange smile now replaced with blind hatred. He glares at you, and you smirk annoyingly.

“Oh, by all means, please, *do* continue with this delightful tale of yers.” You say in a mock interested voice. He growls, and resumes his story.

“I waited here for three nights until someone came. I knew he would come...loyal to me fer all eternity that whelp is...rowed us back to Tortuga, and we began lookin’ fer a crew. I sent me loyal man to the docks, to watch fer the Pearl. Knew it’d come round sometime....Jack Sparrow can’t resist the proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga...hell, I do believe he has a fair number of strumpets in that hole...” your hands go back to work on the bindings, and you feel the knot beginning to give. Smothering a grin, you work faster, not paying any attention to what Barbosa was going on about.

“...stowed away on yer ship. Unfortunately I haven’t heard from him for a while....ye wouldn’t happen t’ know anything bout that would ye?” your head snaps up, and you smirk knowingly.

“Aye. Killed ‘im with me own sword, I did.” You say viciously, relishing the look of distress that crosses the other man’s features.

“Aye....I thought as much.” Barbosa nods and shrugs, seeming to not care. His nonchalant attitude is destroyed when you catch his eye; he is very clearly upset about the death of perhaps his only loyal man. The knot comes loose in your hands, and you bit your lip to keep from making a noise. You quickly untie both of your hands, the wrap the rope loosely around your wrists so that it still appears that you are tied up. You squeeze Jack’s hands to let him know you’ve freed him. He squeezes back, understanding. Barbosa is still going on with his wonderfully fascinating story.

“...so I happened upon a very drunk Mr. Gibbs in Tortuga, and paid him (more money that ye could ever imagine Sparrow. Took quite a bit t’ sway him, even though he was drunk as a stump. Very loyal that one is. Or should I say was....? So there ye have it. Slightly shortened, fer yer own comfort.” He smirks at you, and you nod courteously. You pull on Jacks hand lightly, letting him know what you’re thinking: now’s the time to make a break for it. He signals his understanding, and you both turn back to Barbosa, who’s looking at you two, smiling faintly.

“No use trying t’ escape. Only ship here is the pearl and me own Cutlass. Both crewed by me own men. Yer crew decided to try and save ye, se we killed ‘em.” He says, nodding in Jack’s direction. You hold your breath. Ok. So the 3rd most horrible thing, besides losing yer ship and yer plunder was losing yer crew. This was just not Jack’s week....

“Jack. Jack! Don’t do anything stupid...” you whisper to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you.

“Yeh......son of a bitch!” Jack whipped a dagger from his boot, and advanced on Barbosa. You stood there for a moment, holding the rope. You glance back and forth between the calm and collected Barbosa and Jack; who was fuming, his chest heaving. Sighing, you walk over to Jack, dropping the rope.

“...like that.” You whip around, and grab your dagger from your boot, and walking carelessly around both of them. You flip your dagger around in your hand, always catching the hilt perfectly in your palm.

“So. What now?” you gently graze the tip of the dagger across Barbosa’s back, and then continue.

“Jack, tie him up.” You motion to Barbosa with the dagger, and Jack quickly ties the rope around his wrists and secures it to the handle of the large chest. Satisfied that Barbosa is going nowhere, you continue.

“I suppose we’ll just be leaving now...unless ye wanted something else? No? Alright then. Of we go. Thank ye kindly fer yer cooperation, Mister Baboon, er, Barbosa. Perhaps some time at a later date we can get together and continue this little ‘tea and a giggle,’ hmm?” you say in a fake British accent. You push Jack back behind you and towards the entrance to the cave. You back out. You mock curtsy and blow him a kiss. Turning, both of you get the hell outta there.

You run after Jack, laughing your head off. What an ass! Bloody pirate shouldn’t have even thought about taking the two mighty Captains of the Caribbean! You collapse in a small cove, still chuckling. Looking up, you see Jack’s wondrous eyes on you.

“How’d ye do that? Ye were amazing!” you bow deeply, waving your hands in an exaggerated flourish. Giving him a sly smile, you wink secretively. He chuckles, and you turn to watch the sun set over the dark waters. Beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. You both recline on the sand, simply enjoying the moment. You open your mouth to say something to Jack, but you stop when you find several sword and pistols aimed at your head. Scrambling up, you growl in your throat. Jack stands up beside you, equally irked. Barbosa walks out in front of you, smiling coolly.

“I told ye twas no use escapin’. C’mon men. Bring them t’ the ship!”

* * * *

You and Jack were half dragged, half carried to the boats, and rowed out to the Cutlass. You had to admit, it was a nice boat....ship. You were hauled aboard, and thrown into the brig.

“I do believe the Pearl’s cells are much more satisfactory than these...” calls out Jack in a snobby voice. You chuckled, and lay down with you hand over your eyes. Moments later, you’re asleep.

* * * *

“Up!!! UP!! UP! C’mon. Barbosa says t’ bring ye to the deck...” you hear the cell door open, and you scramble up before you are dragged up. Brushing coldly past the pirate, you march up to the deck. You can see a small island on the horizon, and you have a feeling what’s coming up....

“Damn. Had a feeling this would happen again....” Jack is beside you now, and he mutters under his breath. You turn to him a quirk an eyebrow, but you don’t ask any questions. Barbosa walks over, grinning broadly at Jack.

“We decided t’ be kind t’ ye Jack. Decided t’ drop ye off here, seem familiar? Should be quite a homecoming event for all yer little critter friends. Only this time, ye ain’t getting any shot. Jest yer stuff, and off ye go. I have to admit, I am expecting ye t’ find a way off, *again* but ye know what? I could care less. I really could. So off ye go....” he moves towards you and makes to pick you up, but you have dignity. Walking to the side of the boat and jumping on the rail, you turn so your back is to the sea.

“Thank ye ever so kindly fer yer hospitality, mates. Hope t’ never see yer bloody fat arses again!” with that you bow slightly, blowing them a kiss, turn around, and dive gracefully off. You scramble for the surface, and hear another splash as Jack hits the water. You tread in spot for a moment while he makes his way over to you. You smile sadly at the back of his head as he watches his Pearl sail away next to the Cutlass. You sigh and being to swim to the island.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 8 - Realizations

“Bloody hell! This is becoming a routine experience for me...”

You sigh and sit down on the sand, watching the Pearl sail off in the distance. Jack is still standing next to you, watching his beloved ship. You feel bad for him. Terrible feeling, it is, to watch your life sail away under the command of another man. You should know.... You frown and shake your head. No use bringing up long-since passed memories.... But you can’t help it...the images are playing themselves hauntingly behind your eyes and it’s all you can do to not growl in anger.... Shaking your head again, you stand up. You look at Jack blankly, not really seeing.....all you can see, all you can hear is that voice.....and those cold, horribly cold eyes....

You snap quickly back to reality as Jack shakes your shoulders violently. You blink, and find him staring at you intently, calling your name.

“What!?” you snap, body coursing with white-hot anger; blinded by rage. He backs off, alarmed, raising his hands in the air innocently.

“Nothing, luv. Ye jest went all blank, then completely rigid...yer eyes....” his voice trails off, and he looks at you with concern, but you don’t notice it. “Yer eyes were on fire. I...I was a bit unsettled, luv, ‘at’s all.”

You snarl at him, and his eyes widen.

“Are ye ok, luv?”

“I’m FINE.” You stomp off, yelling loudly back to him. “And I’m NOT yer bloody LUV!”

* * * *

‘What?!’ thought Jack indignantly as he watched her stomp off into the foliage.

“What did I say? Did I do somethin’?” Jack’s eyes follow her until he can’t see her anymore. An odd feeling shifts in his stomach, and he furrows his brow. Hungry already? That can’t be, he’s only been here for half an hour! It must be he needs rum. Still frowning, he walks off to find the hidden store of rum and get bloody drunk.

* * * *

You walk off, fuming. Why was Jack being so bloody condescending and patronizing?

‘He wasn’t.’ says a small voice inside you.

‘He was.’ you reason

‘He was concerned for you. He cares about you.’

‘No he doesn’t. We’re pirates. We don’t care.’ you snarl.

‘Go back to him.’

‘No.’

‘Say you’re sorry.’

‘NO.’

‘Tell him what he means to you.’

“NO!! Just....go....AWAY!!!!” you yell aloud, “Sparrow means nothing to me, got that? NOTHING. I share a bed with him because I have no other option. I was stuck on the same bloody ship as him! The only thing between us is purely business and a few stolen kisses. Lust. Infatuation. Desire. Need. Natural, being one of the only two females on his ship. You heard Barbosa...he was whores in every port.” you finish triumphantly.

‘Then why do you sleep in his bed every night?’

You smirk, ready with a smart reply.

“Because there no other blank----“ your own conscience cuts your off.

‘Ahhh...but there are other blankets. And you know it.’

You falter, and try again. “Because it’s damn cold------“ again, you’re cut off.

‘No. It’s not. Face it. You enjoy waking up next to Jack Sparrow. You crave the feel of his chest against your back, hand around your waist. You love to find your head under his neck, arm curled around his body. You think constantly about the feel of his mouth on yours....and don’t try and tell me you don’t, I know every thought that crosses your mind...’ it says as you try to object.

‘You’re addicted. And what, pray tell, is the knotting in your stomach every time he looks into your soul through your eyes? Hunger? Yes. But for what? Food? Pssht. I’ll tell you what you’re hungry for. You want him. You want Sparrow’s love. You want him to love you the way that you love him.’

You gasp, ready to retort.

‘No. Just think about that.’

And then it’s silent.

You snarl and sit down against the nearest palm tree. So what if you do love Jack Sparrow? No one else knows, and you’re a good enough actress to hide it. Who cares?

“I care....” you mumble, pulling one of the bottles of rum from your belt. Only one solution to a dilemma like this one: getting completely smashed.

* * * *

Slightly more tipsy than he was four hours ago, Jack Sparrow stumbles around the island, looking for the bloody pirate woman. He had successfully built a fire (this being his 3rd time stranded here) and was now worried. It was pitch black in the middle of the island, and he was beginning to feel the sharp cold of night descend. He tripped, for like the 12th time, cursing loudly. His arms flew out in front of him, catching him before he hit the ground. He was on his hands and knees now, still cursing. Suddenly he stopped. What was that? He listened intently. There! A kind of whisper, or a whimper. Staying perfectly still, he held his breath. Strange...he could have sworn he had heard something.... He let his breath out, inhaled deeply...and smelled peaches? Roses? He sniffed tentatively, and then realization struck him. Picking a hand up, he felt gently below him. A pair of legs... tracing the figure upwards, his hands curved around graceful hips, trim waist, shapely breasts, and slender neck. Moving towards her head, he could hear her breathing; peaceful and steady as the sea. He wove his fingers through her rich locks, marveling at how a sleeping woman he couldn’t even see could have such an affect on him.

Sighing, he slid one arm under her shoulders, and the other behind her knees. Lifting the sleeping girl up into his arms gently, he began to walk back to the shore and the fire. He almost tripped again, but managed to steady himself. She mumbled incoherently, and he froze, looking down at her. He hoped she hadn’t woken up.... She was so beautiful to look at when she was sleeping. Her hair fell lightly across her face, and Jack yearned to wipe it back. He noticed she was shivering, he frowned in concern and kept walking, being much more careful. She whimpered, and threw her arms around Jack’s neck. Was it just him, or was she pressing her body more closely to his? Was he just imagining the happy smile forming on her tender lips? Shaking his head, and making his beads clatter noisily, he continued back to the fire. He finally got out of the trees, having not killed himself or the heavenly creature he held in his arms.

He looked at his fire, or, well, what used to be his fire. It was now only smoldering ashes and glowing embers. Sighing, he placed her down on the sand, gently unlacing her fingers from around his neck. He stood up, watching as she instinctively curled up to the warmth. Her shirt had slid down over her shoulder, revealing smooth skin, browned by the sun. Her hair fell some on her face, and some behind her. He bent down and swept the stray locks off her features. Her lips were slightly parted, and again Jack felt the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He watched her for a moment; the flickering and soft glow of the coals lit her face perfectly. He put his hands to the fire; it wasn’t creating much heat. He looked back down at her and noticed that she was still shivering. Reaching down, he grabbed her hand, noting how cold she was. He looked around, not able to find anything to cover her with. His shirt wouldn’t do much good, although he would willingly give it up for her. He was willing to bet also that if she woke up wrapped in his breeches that he’d be in some serious trouble, so he vetoed that option. He could go get more wood.... But who knew how long he’d be...he couldn’t just leave her here! Sighing, he lay down behind her, curving to fit against her body. He wrapped an arm around her waist. He grabbed her hands, trying to warm them between his. He wondered how she would react if she woke up now; what she would say. He would have expected her to be angry.

However, something he wasn’t expecting happened at that moment.

She rolled over, so she was facing him. Her eyes were still closed, brows slightly furrowed. She threw an arm around his side, and slipped a leg between his. He lay there for a moment, completely stunned. She was still asleep! He was very aware of her thigh between his legs, and he bit his lip to keep from making a noise. She moved closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and pulling her arm off of his side to rest on his chest. Her leg shifted slightly, and he inhaled sharply. She muttered something Jack couldn’t quite understand, and then she sighed contently.

‘Well,’ thought Jack, still fighting the urge to groan. ‘This is interesting.....’ his entire body was tense, given the incredibly personal position they were in. And it was then that his conscience spoke up.

‘Jack, get up.’

‘Why? She’s comfortable.’

‘What about when she wakes up, eh?’

‘I’ll tell her she rolled over.’

‘You’re a pirate Jack. She won't believe you.’

‘Yes she will.’

‘No she won't. You need to get up Jack.’

‘No. I'm stayin’ right here. The girl’d freeze t’ death if I left!’

He thought he heard a voice say, ever so softly, ‘Your funeral....’ but he didn’t care. He relaxed, and slid his arm back around her tiny waist. He squeezed her ever so slightly, pulling her right up against him.

“Jack? Luv?”

He froze completely. Did she just say.......was he.....did she jut say ‘Jack’? He looked down at her face and saw that she was smiling happily, as if in a very good dream. Not the usual smirk or sarcastic smile either. A genuinely happy smile.

“I’m here, lass.” He whispered into her ear. Her smile broadened, and she signed happily into his neck. His chest constricted painfully at the sight of her face, and the sensation of her soft breath against his skin. Frowning confusedly, he closed his eyes to be taken by dreams.

* * * *

You begin to feel the sleep slipping away from you, and you breathe deeply, incredibly comfortable. What’s that smell? It smells like.....exotic fruit....and rum, and sea air...and....Jack. You jolt awake, causing someone next to you to stir. With a scowl, you realize that someone is Jack. And this time you don't have your back to him, you’re entwined with his body. Suppressing the part of you that reasoned that it was actually quite enjoyable, you snarled. Typical of Jack. Thinks that as soon as a girl’s sleeping, he can do whatever he wants with her. Bloody pirate. You move your hand from his chest, and begin to slowly slide your leg out from between his. A tiny moan escapes his lips, and you try not to blush. Realizing what must have caused the noise, you quickly move your leg. He gasps this time, and you shiver at the feel of his breath against your cheek. Successfully untangling yourself from Jack, you stand up. The remains of a fire are behind you, and the sun is just beginning to show itself in the east. The calm and crystalline Caribbean water beckons you, and you realize that you must be fairly dirty. Looking back at Jack, you decide to bathe. Just not where he can see you. You walk around to a part of the island you discovered yesterday. It’s like a lagoon, and completely hidden unless you stood right above on the cliff. You strip your clothes, and slide into the blissfully warm water. You wet your hair, loving the instant clean feeling you get. You loved being a pirate, the pillaging, the carefree life, the adventures, but one thing you would not stand for was being dirty. You wondered at how some of those pirates, like Jack, can go for so long without a bath.

‘And still smell so yummy...’ you mutter, sighing. You lie back, floating on the water. You haven’t been this comfortable since...well....you can’t remember when it was last.

‘You looked pretty comfortable last night...’ that damned voice returns, and you stand up in the water. The surface comes up to about your hips, and you wade in deeper. Perhaps if you go in deep enough, you can drown out that annoying voice inside your head. Holding your breath, you duck under the water. You float underwater, hair flowing freely around your face. You go outside your mind, and see yourself suspended in the water, naked. You move up above the cliff and see Jack, still lying on the beach. Scanning the horizon, you can't see a single ship. You open your eyes and you're underwater again and low on oxygen. Breaking the surface, you gasp for air, greedily taking in huge gulps of the stuff. You swim a few times around the small lagoon, enjoying the feel of your body slicing through the water like a knife through butter. You relax again, floating leisurely on the water, looking up at the sky.

“Morning, luv.” A rough voice shatters the silence, and you gasp, stand up, turn around, duck back down, and swallow huge amounts of water all at the same time. Now you only have your head above water, but you are very aware that the water is not murky, but crystal clear. And you’re choking.

Jack wades into the water, so he’s standing a few feet away from you. You don’t notice this, due to the fact that you are currently trying to empty your lungs of water. You look up, and squeak when you see him so close. You continue to splutter and cough, your body heaving painfully. Jack moves forward with his hand outstretched, and you glare at him.

“Don’t....you.....dare......touch me........Sparrow....” you manage to choke out between gasping for breath. He shrugs, and withdraws his hand. You turn your back to him, coughing loudly. You gulp for air, and try to maintain control of your body. After a few minutes, you are fine. Swallowing, you turn around, coming face to face with Jack. His eyes are on your chest, and you scowl. Crossing your arms across your breasts, you clear your throat. His eyes snap up to yours, and you growl menacingly. He only chuckles and steps closer. You don’t move at all, since his eyes have never left yours, and you’re in a trance. Now he’s only a foot away from you. Your legs are shaking, and you kick yourself mentally for not being able to handle this like a man.

“Sleep well?” He grins, and you scowl.

“No. And I don’t appreciate you putting your filthy hands all around me and covering me with yer...” you wave a hand around, searching for the words. “...yer *effects*. Are ye trying to bed me, Sparrow?” you narrow your eyes angrily. He chuckles and winks.

“Ahhh. But you see, pet, twas ye who decided to cuddle up, and slip your sneaky leg ‘tween mine. So I think the question is...” he move a step closer, eye still locked on yours, “....are *you* trying to bed *me*?”

Your eyes widen in horror. Was he telling the truth? Of course he wasn’t. He’s a pirate. He lies all the time.....right? I mean, you wouldn’t actually do that......RIGHT?!?!? No way. He can obviously tell that you are distressed, and he uses this to reduce the amount of space between you two to merely two or three inches.

“Don’t believe me, luv? I brought you back to the fire and laid down next t’ ye to keep ye warm. Imagine my surprise when ye decide to use my body as a pillow. Can’t blame ye luv. Who can resist Capt’n Jack Sparrow?” he winks again, and you flush a deep red. This blushing thing is totally new to you. You’re not exactly the blushing type.

“I told ye not to call me luv...” is all you can mumble.

“Why not? Ye yerself called me the same thing last night...” your mouth drops open in horror, and you know he’s telling the truth....you had a dream....you had been calling out to him.....’Jack? Luv?’.....bloody hell....what were you supposed to do?! You turned a deep crimson color, and swiveled so your back was to him. Tears are welling up in your eyes, and you don’t know why. Fear? You haven’t cried in....oh....about seventeen years! What *is* this?? Drawing a shaky breath, you slide under the water, hoping that when you come back up none of this will have happened.

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall freely. Thank god you’re underwater! You let all your breath out in a scream, trying to get it out of your system. Too bad it didn’t help much. You stand up again, your hair falling over your face. You wipe it back, and cross your arms over your chest. Turning back around, you face Jack defiantly, daring him to say anything. He looks into your eyes, and you feel you insides turn to mush, your heart pound wildly against your ribs, and your legs tremble slightly. Damn that man! Damn him and his eyes! Damn him for making you feel like this! Your view traveled to his slightly open shirt, and the knotting feeling in your stomach is replaced by a burning, tingling sensation. Desire. God, how you wanted him. But he wasn’t yours to have, so you bit you lip and didn’t move.

No need to worry though, Jack was doing all the moving.

In one swift motion, his body was pressed against yours, one hand against your back, the other along your jaw. Startled, you look up at him.

“Jack? What....” he places a finger on your lips, and shushes you.

“Jest shut up, luv...” he slowly tips your head back, and lowers his lips to yours.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 9 - Lust And Nightmares

His lips met yours, and it was all you could do to hold yourself up. Your legs were melting completely, and you had no idea how to respond. Your hands were still crossed over your chest. He didn’t kiss you deeply, just gently, slowly pulling on your bottom lip. He steps away from you, all too soon in your opinion. He winks and walks back to the shore. You simply stand there, eyes following his every move. He disappears from view, and you still stand there, shivering slightly now, mouth hanging open in shock.

‘What was that?’ you think, placing a hand lightly to your lips.

‘He can’t leave me like this.....’ you smile mischievously, feeling your old spirit return. You slosh quickly to the shore, and throw on your clothes. Wringing out your hair, you walk swiftly back to the shore where you slept last night. Jack is sitting on the sand, smiling slightly, bottle of rum in his hand. You march right up to him, trying your hardest to appear angry. (It was kind of hard when you knew your eyes were sparkling.) He looked up at you, and quirked an eyebrow. Very sexy, if I may say so.

“What the hell were you thinking, Jack Sparrow?” he stood up, coming eye level with you.

“Now now, luv...”

You pounce, pinning him on the sand beneath you. His eyes widen, then twinkle mischievously.

“How could you leave me standing there?” you growl, hands holding his wrists above his head. He smirks, and quick as a flash you’re now on your back with him on top of you. Your hands are now being held above your head, and he’s sitting on your abdomen.

“Anxious are we, luv? Thought ye hated ol’ Jack.” You roll over, so that you once more are on top. You lean down and capture his lips with yours, kissing him with a passion. His hands strain under your firm grasp and his entire body tenses. He moans slightly into your mouth, and you break away. He’s breathing heavily, lips parted, eyes closed. You smirk.

“I do hate ye.” He opens his eyes, and once again you find yourself underneath him.

“Doesn’t seem like ye hate me, luv...” he eyes your lips. Pulling you into another kiss, your entire body aches to pull him flush against you. His tongue rakes along your bottom lip, and you moan pleasurably into his mouth. Suddenly he pulls back, and you whimper slightly. He chuckles, and promptly finds himself under you. (You’ve rolled halfway across the beach now.) You don't place your hands on his wrists this time; instead you weave them behind his neck.

“Not nice to tease, Sparrow.” You pull him up to meet you, wanting his lips on yours again. If the kisses before had been amazing; this one blew them all away. Nowhere could more passion be seen. You released all you frustration from the past days into it, and Jack put all his desire for you into it. When you broke away, it was for air. You drew in several ragged breaths, and notice Jack was doing the same. You slide your hands under his shirt, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his smooth skin against your curious fingers. A small noise escapes his lips, and you place a kiss gently on his neck. God, how much you wanted him right then. You wanted everything that was him, every thing that was this devilishly handsome man under you.

“Jack, I want----“ but you’re interrupted.

“Ahoy! Thought ye could use some help....” a distinctly female voice calls out. You make a frustrated noise in your throat, climbing reluctantly off of Jack. He remains there, propping himself up on his elbows. A small boat rows into view, and you squint to make out the person in it. You furrow your brow when you can see...it can’t be! Not this bitch again! Growling, you stand on the shore, hands on your hips.

“Anamaria. Well, well. The prodigal traitor returns.....” Jack sits up, curious. Anamaria jumps out of the boat, and pulls it up on to the sand. The moment she straightens, you’re at her throat.

“Ye bloody traitor... I should kill ye here and now...” she narrows her eyes, staring right at you.

“I’m here, ain’t I? So get yer hoity-toity arse over it.” Jack chuckles, and you glare at him. He raises his hands innocently. You bite you lip to keep from smiling goofily at his expression. He just looks so adorable...your eyes linger on him for perhaps a bit too long, as Anamaria looks back and forth between you two. She no doubt notices the sand in your hair, your ruffled appearance, uneven breathing from both you and Jack, and Jack’s lust-filled stare. She chuckles lightly.

“Did I interrupt.....anything....were ye two....busy?” your eyes leave Jack to focus on her.

“No. Nothing at all.” She looks skeptical, so you decide to change the subject.

“Alright. Forgiven. Not get us off this bloody island.” She smirks, and gestures to the rowboat with an exaggerated bow and flourish.

“Hmph.” You march past her, settling your bandana in your hair. With one quick sweep, your long locks are hidden. You settle yourself on the boat. It rocks as Anamaria and Jack climb in. Jack takes the oars and looks to Anamaria for directions. She points north west, towards where your bathing cove was.

“Me an’ a few other men got a boat out there. Nothin’ fancy, jest a fishin’ vessel.” You nod, and Jack starts rowing in that direction. The trip is lengthy, and spent in complete silence. For you it’s a thoughtful silence, and Anamaria is looking nervously between you and Jack.

The ship comes into view, and you have to admit that you’re a bit disappointed. It’s tiny!

It could only hold about ten or twelve men, and would be packed at that. The boat bumps gently against the side, and a rope ladder is thrown down. You start climbing.

“What a view.....” Jack mutters, and you look down below you. Not surprisingly, Jack’s not looking at the scenery, but at your arse which is almost in his face. Eyes widening, you scurry up the rest of the ladder as fast as you can. Jack climbs over the side moments after you, and you growl. He smirks and shrugs. Walking over to him, you stand inches from his face.

“I told ye once before, Sparrow. ‘At’s not appreciated.” You poke your finger in his chest, and his eyes widen.

“Are ye goin’ t’ slap me?” he asks warily. You furrow your brow.

“Naw.” He relaxes.

“I ain’t the slapping type. I’d get ye where it counts...” you push your fist into his lower abdomen, to indicate your point. His eyebrows almost disappear under his bandana.

“Got it?” he nods, covering his goods with one hand, and using the other to tip his hat to you slightly. You smirk, and march off to find the galley. Man were you hungry!

* * * *

A few hours later, you’ve eaten heartily, and drunk a fair bit more than your share. Jack isn’t anywhere to be seen, and you’re thankful. If he was around.... who knows what you’d do in this state. You stumble across the deck, tripping several times.

“Bloody boards...” you mumble. You spot Anamaria at the helm, and you make your way up to her.

“Oy! Where’s me room?” you hiccup, and grab the rail for support. She looks at you distastefully, and points off below.

“With everyone else. Think on a ship like this one yer gonna have yer own private quarters? Or...” she smiles mischievously, “...a room with yer dear captain?” you growl.

“...isn’t my Captain...” you mumble incoherently. Who is this chick to assume things like that? She only snorts and shakes her head and you snarl. If you weren’t so bloody drunk.....you’d get her. She’ll get it, that bloody traitor, daughter-of-a-whore, strumpet. Growling again, you retreat back down under the deck. You find the cabins, or should I say cabin... It’s a single room, with two sets of bunk beds. Several cots are laid out on the floor, and already a few of them are filled with drunken, sleeping men. Walking cautiously around them, you climb to the top bunk in the corner.

“Suppose I'm sleepin in me clothes...” you mutter. No way were you going to risk changing in here. You lie down on your back, sighing deeply. The tiredness that had so nearly consumed your before was now gone, and you felt wide awake. You listened to the ocean, and the sounds of the ship. A few more men came in, and one of them moved towards your bunk. You closed your eyes, pretending to be sleeping. You hear the small ladder groan, and inwardly your sneer. If that bloody pig so much as laid a hand on you....

“Oy! Lookie here! We’ve got ourselves some ‘entertainin’!” a voice cries in glee. Fingering the knife in your belt, you wonder whether you should get up now. A rough hand grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together. You snap your eyes open and growl menacingly (you sure do growl a lot). You flip out your knife, and it catches the moonlight, shining in the man’s face.

“Ye lay another hand on me and I swear, yer goods’ll be getting’ real friendly with me knife...” you point the blade at his throat, indicating what you mean slightly, and he gulps. Letting go of you, he practically falls down the ladder. There are three other men standing down there, all looking at you fearfully.

“’At goes fer all of yeh, ye hear me?” they nod their heads, and settle themselves down under the blankets on the floor. Deciding that it was too dangerous to fall asleep, you simply sit on the bed, leaning against the wall. Your knife lies handy in your lap, and you’re ready to grab it if you have to. You sigh. This was going to be a long night....

* * * *

Despite your desperate efforts, you drop off. You doze fitfully, waking up in cold sweats and chills. Each time you wake up and realize that you’ve been sleeping, you kick yourself. You need to stay alert! Stay awake......keep......yer....eyes....open...... Suddenly you feel the bed move, and you snap your eyes open, grabbing your knife. Pointing it at the man in your bunk, you reprimand yourself for not being able to stay awake.

“Make one move, or lay a single one of yer dirty fingers on me and I promise ye ye’ll find my knife in yer throat....” you hiss. The man stops moving, and shakes his head at you. Something like beads clatters noisily.

“Tsk, tsk. Ye should know better than t’ threaten Capt’n Jack Sparrow, luv...” you sigh and remove your knife.

“Jack...honestly. Go sleep somewhere else. Can’t ye bother Anamaria?” you sigh, rolling your eyes. You’re really not in the mood right now. You don't feel too swell....what with the nightmares, and the shivering, and the cold sweats, and the horrible images..... You shiver inwardly, and look at Jack, exasperated.

“Now, now luv. Anamaria’d have me goods if I tried to cuddle up with her. Besides, she’s steerin this bloody wreck. So I guess that leaves yeh.” He smirks, the moonlight glinting off his gold teeth. You roll your eyes again, and move into the corner.

“Fine. Stay over there, and keep watch. Bloody scoundrels’d prolly try to rape me in my sleep....” you mumble, already half way asleep.

“Sure thing, luv...wouldn’t want me little virgin not having a pleasant first time...” Jack replies, but you’re already asleep.

* * * *

Jack sits on the edge of the bunk, watching the girl sleeping fitfully in the corner. She’s whimpering quietly, and her face is drawn with fear and pain. He’s worried.

“Luv! Luv! Wake up! Tell Jack what’s wrong!” he anxiously shakes her shoulders, her limp body flapping pathetically. Jack’s scared. The Great Captain of the Black Pearl; Jack Sparrow... is frightened. He hurriedly scooped her up, and clambered down the ladder noisily. Several of the men grunted at the disturbance, and a few of them cried out when he practically ran over them in his haste. He rushed to the deck, feeling the cool rain pour down on him. He looked to the helm, and saw not Anamaria, but another crewman. Striding over, he had to yell to be heard against the rain.

“Where’s Anamaria!!” the other man looked curiously at him, and the unconscious girl in his arms. Slowly he pointed down to the galley. Seconds later, Jack was there. Anamaria was sitting at the only table, a long one that filled the entire room. He rushed in, placing the girl’s body gently on the tabletop. He jumped up beside her head, brushing back sweaty locks lovingly. Wait. Maybe not lovingly. Just....affectionately and worriedly. That’s better. Pirate like Jack doesn’t love....

Anamaria gasped and jumped, looking at Jack for an explanation.

“She jest......and her eyes, .....and her body jest went, and she was...and she’s sweating like crazy, and she won't wake up....and...and...........” his eyes darted back and forth between Anamaria and the girl, and he wiped his brow nervously. Anamaria climbed on the table as well, looking at the young pirate lass’s face. She looks back at Jack, who is nervously stroking her hair and face, eyes never leaving her. Anamaria smiled knowingly, and gets to work.

“Jack. Find me a cloth, and wet it. Cold water. Quickly.” He nods, and tears his eyes away from her to go do as he’s told.

“Wow...Jack Sparrow jumpin’ t’ obey me own orders...” she mumbles as she feels the girl’s face. The poor lass is burning up!

“Fever...only way is to sweat it out...” she reaches for her neck, to check her pulse. It’s present, and incredibly fast. That must be one hell of a nightmare she’s having.... Jack rushes back in, holding a dripping cloth.

“Wring it out kinda. So it’s not so wet.” He complies, the excess water splashing on the boards. Anamaria takes it from him, placing it on her forehead.

“Jack, we need some blankets. We need to wrap her up....to sweat it out. See how she’s shiverin’? And her face is hot? That’s a fever. Only thing we can do it wait it out...” Anamaria looks back at the girl on the table. Her haunted expression has returned, and her fists clench at her sides. Her jaw is set, and Anamria knows what’s coming. Slightly alarmed, Anamaria hurried to find something to wrap her in.

“Jack! Hold her arms down! Sit on her tummy! Talk to her! Wait till I get back.” She calls over her shoulder.

“Why?” calls Jack, but he can’t hear Anamaria’s answer.

“....Cuz this is gonna be one hell of a rough night.....” she scurries off to find some blankets.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 10 - Living Dreams

Jack climbed on top of her, holding her wrists above her head like the previous day on the beach. Except now the circumstances were very different....

Her back arches, and her face is picture of pain. She seems to be trying to roll over underneath him; trying to get her back off of the table. Every time he pushes her back down, she winces. Frowning, he carefully rolls her over. She almost sighs audibly, but her body is still tense. He grabs the hem of her shirt, and she flinches. Steeling himself, Jack pulls up the girl’s shirt.

“No!”

* * * *

Horrible visions and memories flash behind your eyes, and no matter how hard you try to make a noise or wake up, you can’t. These dreams are so vivid, almost real. You shudder, and realize you’re hanging from your wrists in a prison cell. Recognizing the place as the one where you were help captive years ago, your eyes widen in fear. All you can do is watch, horrified, as your 11 year old self is dragged in, and hung by the bindings on your wrists from a hook in the middle of the cell. How brave you were...not uttering a word, barely managing to hold back the tears filling your soul. These brutes had killed your family, your friends, everyone. And they had taken you as a captive. And what was worse, somehow they knew what you had inside of you; what knowledge you have hidden deep within you.

Those memories came back; flashing before your eyes quickly. You watched as you saw the pirates walk slowly around your dangling, but stoic little body. One of the men reached out and ripped off your shirt, leaving you only with your breeches and cloth bound over your small breasts. He pulled out a whip, cracking it evilly through the stale air. You held your head up high, and spat at the man. He snarled, and lashed at your back...oh god, the pain! Your skin had split open along the line of the whip, and it felt as though your entire body was on fire... he advanced again, and you spoke for the first time aboard that ship....

“No!”

* * * *

You jerk back into consciousness, the feeling of the whip still sharp and painful on your back. You realize something is holding your wrists together above your head, and something is pressing down on your legs, holding you down.

‘What in the name of god.....?' You try to think quickly, figuring out whether those vision were real, or dreams, and whether you were awake or still dreaming. You turn your head quickly to the side, since you’re lying on your stomach. You try and look behind you, to see what’s holding you down.

It’s Jack.

You close your eyes and drop your face against the wood, relieved it's not another dream. The feeling of the blissfully cool table underneath you is soothing.

“Lass...Are ye ok? Anamaria said ye have a fever, and ye were jerking all over the place. It seemed....” he looked at you, brows furrowed. “It seemed t’ me like ye didn’t want anyone touching yer back...” you swallow, and open your eyes slowly.

“Can I take a look...?” you nod slightly, and he peels up your shirt. You can’t gauge his reaction, but you know what he’s seeing....

Dozens of long scars, crisscrossing all over your back and neck. Reminders of those horrible weeks aboard the Hellfire. You shiver and recoil slightly as you feel Jack slide his hand gently across your back. He climbs slowly off of you, and you try to sit up. Your head feels like it’s filled with helium, and you almost fall back down. Jack reaches over and catches you. You nod your thanks, and slowly move into a sitting position. At that moment, Anamaria rushes in, holding an armful of blankets and sheets. She sees you sitting up, being supported by Jack’s hand, and sighs deeply.

“Thank heavens. Thought ye mighta decided t’ kick the bucket a few minutes ago...” a worried look crosses her features, and you realize that she may have actually been concerned.

‘Anamaria might not be such a whore after all,’ you think. She walks over, and wraps you tightly in the blankets, holding her wrist to your forehead.

“Still hot...Jack keep an eye on her fer tonight, I hafta go back up t’ the wheel. Ye need anything, just holler. She should drink lots o’ water, and sleep soon.” She looks down at you once again, and hurriedly pulls you into a hug. You simply sit there, since your arms are wrapped at your sides.

“Thank god yer ok...” she whispers, and you stare dumbstruck as she races out of the room.

“That’s interesting...” you mumble. Jack’s eyes haven’t left you, and you turn back to look at him wearily.

“S’pose ye’ll be wantin’ me t’ tell ye about it...” He nods, and you sigh. You begin to recount your story.

* * * *

After you had told him your entire story, you felt oddly relieved. You had never told another person that, and now you wondered why. He had been a perfect audience, staying quiet at times, and being consoling at other times. When you reached the part about the man whipping you, he reached over and pulled you into his lap. You were surprised, but didn’t try to move. It was actually quite comfortable. When you had finished, you had simply lain your head against his chest, and closed your eyes. He had held you, recognizing your need for silence. You dropped back off to sleep, dreamlessly this time thankfully. You were vaguely aware of being carried to bed sometimes later. You were aware of Jack’s warm and comforting presence behind you, his chest flat against your harassed back, arm securely around your hips, and hand flattened on your tummy. With that, you fell asleep.

* * * *

You wake up slightly later that night. Looking down, you see his hand on your stomach. The crook of his elbow is resting on your hip, and his chest is flush against your back. You feel his breath ruffle your hair. Realizing that his head is tucked behind your neck, you smile slightly. You weaved your fingers through his hand on your stomach, and fell back asleep.

* * * *

The bright morning sun wakes you, and you squint. Your head is throbbing...you sit up, and feel incredibly nauseous. You feel an odd taste in you throat, and realize what’s about to happen. Pulling yourself out of Jack’s warm embrace, your eyes widen. You practically jump down the ladder, wincing painfully at the jarring sensation. You scramble as best you can to the side of the boat, leaning over the side. Everything that you’d eaten in the last week it seemed like came up. You were sure that nothing was left to bring up, but you kept heaving anyways. Coughing and spluttering over the side of the boat, you try to catch your breath. Someone walks up behind you, and sweeps the hair off your face, holding it behind your neck. You gasp for air, still gagging and retching. The person rubs your back slowly, and massages your neck with a gentle thumb. Gradually you stop heaving. With a shudder, you turn around and slide down onto the floor. You lean your head back against the rails, and the person sits down next to you. Not surprisingly, it’s Jack. He looks at you, and smiles slightly.

“Givin’ the fishies a little early mornin’ snack?” You curl your nose up in disgust, and punch him softly. You look at him, his eyes laughing. You chuckle, and drop your head back again.

“That’s disgusting.” He only chuckles in reply. You sit there for a moment, enjoying the feel of the sun on your face. Sighing, you turn to Jack. He’s staring avidly at you.

“Jack...thanks.” he nods, and stands up swiftly. He looks slightly uncomfortable.

“Well. Ye should get back t’ bed. And I'll bring ye some water.” You look dubiously at him, not liking the idea of spending the day in bed like some cripple. He frowns, and puts his hands on his hips.

“Go! Git! In t’ bed with ye! Go on! Do I have to carry ye?” he advances. You fake a horrified gasp and jump up. You walk slowly back to the cabin, resigned to the fact that you are not going to get anything done today. He follows you like a watchful dog. You grumble as you climb back into bed, lying down on your stomach, with your arms by your head, like a prisoner.

“...not bloody tired....not a baby...” you mumble irritably. Jack hears this, and chuckles.

“Stay. I’ll be back with water.” You smirk, and fake a yawn.

“Better hurry, I may jest be sleepin’ when ye get back....” he chuckles and walks out. Seconds later, you really are asleep.

* * * *

You wake up, throat dry as sandpaper, and hurting like hell. You swallow a couple times, trying to wet it. It kinda works, and you look down. Once again, a certain Captain’s hand is resting on your tummy, chest pressed against your back. Sighing wearily, you turn around. You plan to use this time when he’s sleeping to memorize every feature about him, every line and mark. You turn your head, and find yourself staring deep into two beautiful kohl-rimmed eyes. You turn your entire body around, so you’re facing him.

“This seems to be a daily routine fer ye, Sparrow.” You rasp out, your throat stinging with every word. He shrugs and raises his eyebrows.

“Ye don't seem t’ mind it much, luv.” Now it’s your turn to shrug. It was true. You really didn’t mind. He smiles coyly, and you grin.

“Ahhh! Finally! Haven’t seen one of those light yer face in a long while....” you bite the inside of your lip, hiding a smile.

“Jack....I...” you try and clear your throat, eyes asking him a question.

“Yea? What luv?” his voice is husky, and sends shivers down your spine. You clear your throat once more, unsuccessfully.

“I need some water...” you barely manage to whisper it out, wincing at the pain it causes. He frowns for a moment. Then he blinks, and jumps up.

“Right. O’ course. Be right back.” He hurries out of the cabin, and you roll onto your back. That hadn’t been what you were going to say, and you don't think it was what Jack was expecting. You sigh. Oh well. Always tell him next time, right? Right. For now, sleep was looking pretty inviting....you were still feeling somewhat sick, but you had intended to get up and help the crew today.

“Jest 5 more minutes then...” you mumble, yawning hugely.

“....jest 5 more minutes.....”

You’re out of it. Sound asleep. Jack comes in, and sees you lying peacefully asleep. He smiles and places the water on the small table below your bunk, and quietly leaves, closing the door behind him.