CHAPTER 6

You turn around and stare at the bed as if it’s threatening your very existence. Not entirely sure that you should be sleeping in the same bed as Jack, you like the other options even less. And there is no way you could even think of asking Jack to sleep on the floor. This is his bed, his room, his damn ship.

“What side of the bed do you normally sleep on Jack?” you ask, not too sure which side you would prefer. ‘I love sleeping against a wall, something for support,’ you ponder. ‘But that would mean that I would be trapped between Jack and the wall. But if I slept on the outside then I’d have Jack as my wall of support, and I really do not want to be held responsible for cuddling up against him.’

Having just made yourself severely frustrated you hear Jack say, “Usually luv, I jus’ dominate the entire bed.” You turn to Jack and fix him with a ‘just pick a damn side you insane pirate’ look.

“Fine then I want the edge,” Jack huffs. He walks over to the bed and turns the covers down.

“You’re sure?” you squeak.

“Unless of course ye want me ta crawl over your supple form in the mornin’?” Jack hopefully suggests.

Not even thinking about that possibility you promptly concede, “No no that’s okay, I’m fine with the wall.” You sit on the edge of the bed and slightly bounce up and down, testing it for its bounciness. Deciding that the bed passes the test, you glance up to catch Jack starting to unbutton his well-fitting pants.

You immediately stop bouncing.

“Hey! What are you thinking!?” you exclaim, pointing a finger at him.

Jack glances up grinning and says, “I’m thinkin’ that ye look rather soft luv, bounce some more will ye?”

You shake your head, “Noooo Jack not that.” Ignoring his comment on your bouncing you add, “You can’t take those off.”

“Why’s that luv? You’re not wearin’ any, I think it’s only fair that I don’ have ta,” Jack explains, his point clearly making all kinds of sense to him.

‘He must be serious, he’s twirling his hands around again,’ you think, ‘there is no way I can fall asleep with him undressed. It was bad enough with him not wearing a shirt.’

“Jack I will not be able to sleep knowing the very likely possibility of you shifting and something hitting me. I don’t need to be scared for my emotional well-being.”

Seeing his ‘resolved face’ or what you only assume is his resolved face, you figure that he probably won’t agree with the line of thinking you were currently portraying.

“Fine Jack, you can sleep naked, I changed my mind,” you tell him. Hearing this Jack gets a sly look on his face, but before he can take his pants off you add, “I’ll just put my pants back on.” You grin as Jack swings his head up wearing a rather horrified and stunned expression.

“Wha?”

“If you insist upon sleeping nude, then I insist upon sleeping fully clothed,” you calmly tell him. You get up and walk over to where you placed your neatly folded clothes.

Jack runs over to smack your hand out of the air, “No need ta get so drastic luv. I decided to keep me clothes on.”

You smile up at him, “Are you sure Jack? I wouldn’t want to disrupt your sleeping habits.”

“Really luv, don’ worry ‘bout me, I’ll be alright,” Jack insists while smiling.

You back away from your clothes and say, “Well... since you’re sure.” You allow Jack to pull you by the elbow and direct you back to the side of the bed. ‘He probably thinks that he just had to convince me.’

Jack sets his large hands on your shoulders and pushes you down onto the bed. “Get in then luv so I can blow the candles out,” Jack orders you as he starts walking around the room blowing each candle out. You crawl across the bed to your side and push the covers down some more so you can slide your legs underneath. The sheets are cool to the touch and you shiver while pulling them over your legs all the way. Feeling the heavy weight of all the blankets you think to yourself, ‘For such a bad ass pirate he sure is a pansy when it comes to cold weather.’

Decided against laying down just yet you stay sitting and glance over at Jack who has two more candles to blow out. You’ve never really understood before why some people tend to say that candlelight is the best light. Watching Jack at this moment causes it all make sense. His movements seem graceful, almost feline-like. The shadows flitting across his face gives you an urge to call him beautiful. ‘Usually guys aren’t, but Jack is definitely gorgeous,’ you think. ‘What a selfish bastard, just had to take all the beauty from the rest of this pathetic world and keep it all to himself,’ you jokingly think.

The room suddenly drops into complete darkness. You look around and can’t seem to pinpoint even one light source. Waiting for your eyes to adjust to the total darkness you hear movement and figure that Jack is making his way over to the bed. All of a sudden you hear a slight stumble, Jack’s body hitting the ground, and a loud outcry of, “Bloody ‘ell!”

You sit up straighter and look in the direction of the shout. “You okay Jack?” you ask feeling a little worried.

Jack’s breathing heavily and then you feel a hard object hit you in the leg. “Why the fuck are you throwing things at me you douche bag?” you yell at him while realizing that it was one of your forgotten shoes that he threw at you.

“I fell over that, since it’s not mine, I can only figure it’s yours. Ye tryin’ ta kill me? I coulda died,” Jack angrily responds. With your eyes adjusted to the darkness you are able to make out his form, sitting on the cold floor unmoving.

“Oh,” feeling rather guilty now for yelling at him. “Sorry, I guess I forgot about them. Anyways, if I was trying to kill you Jack, I wouldn’t use a plan that revolved around you falling over my shoe. Besides you could have killed me by throwing my shoe at me. What if it had hit me in the face huh? It could have knocked me out and broken my nose or something. And then the blood from my broken nose could have choked me in my unconscious slumber. And I would die Jack. Die.”

Still not moving, Jack is just staring at you. “Okay. Really. I’m sorry. Will you please just stop staring at me like a serial killer and get your ass in bed?”

You get flustered at the fact that Jack still hasn’t moved from his sitting position. Sighing you try to think of something to say that would make him get up. Not being able to come up with anything that wouldn’t end up in a compromising situation for you, you just stare back at him.

Not being able to take the silence any longer, you say the first thing that pops into your head, “I can pick things up with my toes.”

The silence that follows almost causes you to explode into a fit of laughter. ‘Great, now he thinks I’m insane.’

“Like what luv?” Jack finally speaks and pulls himself up off of the floor. You sigh in joy while he climbs into his side of the bed.

“Nothing too large,” you tell him while you slide down and lay your head on your pillow. “Small stuff usually. I can pinch pretty hard too. So don’t try to mess with me Jack, I’ll pinch you with my toes, and you will scream out in pain.” You pull the covers up to your chin and stare at the ceiling.

“Tha’s intrestin’ luv, really. But I don’ need my toes ta pinch, I do very well with me fingers,” he responds while he shifts around.

Having the feeling that he’s about to prove his point you quickly say, “I don’t need proof Jack, I believe you. Do not pinch me.”

You bunch the pillow under your head getting comfortable and quietly add underneath your breath, “I may just wake up.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 7

You guess that maybe an hour has passed since you and Jack first crawled into bed. ‘Why can’t I sleep?’ you wonder. The bed is comfortable enough and the pillow isn’t too hard, you should be sleeping by now. Instead, for the past hour you’ve been switching between staring at the inside of your eyelids and staring at the ceiling. You turn your head to the left and wonder if Jack is asleep. He hasn’t said anything since the goodnights were shared and he hasn’t even really moved. You stare at his unmoving face and envy him for being able to sleep.

‘I wish I had my stereo, listening to music always helps me sleep in the long run,’ you think to yourself. Knowing that you’ll probably start humming to yourself eventually, you look over at Jack and decide to make sure that he isn’t a light sleeper. Even though something tells you that there is no way he would be.

“Jack,” you very quietly whisper from your side of the bed. Waiting for any acknowledgment whatsoever and finding none, you whisper his name again. After poking him in the arm a couple of times, you come to the conclusion that it would probably take his ship being blown up for him to awaken.

“The Perfect Drug” is the song that you end up deciding on reciting. ‘No chance I’ll forget any of the lyrics, that damn song will forever be stuck in my head,’ you think to yourself.

You start to softly hum the song to yourself while every once in awhile singing some of the lyrics. You close your eyes in hopes of drifting off to sleep but soon realize that maybe you shouldn’t have chosen a song by Nine Inch Nails. ‘My god, could Trent Reznor be any more appealing? Well maybe if he was half naked in bed next to me like a certain someone is. Good train of thought this is. Just great,’ your Irish inner monologue prattles on. Your inner monologue sometimes decides to randomly have an Irish accent. You don’t really know why it happens, but it is rather humorous.

Once you reach near the end of the song, you softly start singing it to yourself. You love the end. It seems to wrap the song up perfectly.

“Without you... without you everything falls apart. Without you... it’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces. Without you...without you everything falls apart. Without you...it’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces,” you quietly sing to yourself with shut eyes. With your eyes closed, you haven’t realized that a pair of dark, curious eyes are staring intently at you.

“Pieces of what luv?” Jack suddenly asks.

Your eyes spring open in surprise. ‘How long has he been awake?’ you wonder as you try not to have a spaz attack. You can’t stand having people listen to you sing, it seriously freaks you out. You probably won’t be a contestant on American Idol anytime soon.

Jack rolls over onto his right side so he can face you. He lays on his elbow and holds his head up with his hand while waiting for you to answer.

You notice a piece of hair that has managed to fall in his face, and have an extreme desire to push it back. You almost do, but then remember that you’ve made it clear that you don’t want him getting all handsy with you. So you probably shouldn’t start sending mixed signals. ‘Why do I not want him touching me again?’ you ask yourself. ‘And I swear to Gandhi that if he doesn’t move that hair out of his face I am going to go into cardiac arrest!’ Realizing that he’s still waiting for an answer, you feel the wave of embarrassment inviting itself to join the party.

“Umm... I guess it would just be pieces of him, his shattered life. I don’t know. It makes sense in my head, but I don’t know how to explain it to you,” you answer.

“And who would the pieces belong to?” Jack asks you, still staring intensely.

Feeling a little better about having something now to actually talk about, instead of dwell on the fact that he heard you sing, you turn onto your left side and lay like Jack.

“That would be the guy who wrote the song, Trent Reznor,” you inform him.

“Oh yes, that guy. Very shattered life, obliterated,” Jack responds, pretending to know who Trent Reznor is. You stare at him, deciding as to whether or not you should pop his little bubble. Seeing the cute little smile on his face, you resolve that his bubble should forever be whole.

“Yes, that guy,” you laugh.

“Sing the rest of it luv, I wanna get the full affect,” Jack determinedly decides.

“You’re kidding right? There is no way on this planet I would ever sing the rest of that song for you,” you tell him.

Jack furrows his eyebrows and scratches the side of his temple. Finally he pushes the piece of hair away from his face and the inner you dances with joy.

“But luuuuuuuv,” Jack whines, “I wanna know the rest o’ the song.” He puts the best puppy dog expression on and you swear he’s pouting.

“Dammit Jack, that is not going to work. Pout all you want, but I will not sing,” you tell his as sternly as you can.

In response to your decision, Jack sticks his bottom lip out a little bit more and looks downwards. He creates the illusion that he’s a little puppy that was just scolded.

You try not to let it get to you, but he’s just too damn good at this. “You know Jack, I’ll get you back for this. I am quite handy with the ‘kicked puppy’ look, you will pay.”

Finally you can’t take it anymore when you hear him sniffle a little bit.

“Oh my god! Stop pouting and I’ll tell you the song!” you give in.

The second you give in, Jack picks his head back up wearing a huge satisfied grin, “I knew ye couldn’ resist me ways.”

“You’re a bastard Jack, you know that? Bastard. And besides, I actually win a little here because I don’t have to sing anything,” you smirk at him.

“No luv, ye gave in. Play by the rules.”

“Since when do you play by the rules? And besides I am. I never said I would sing. I said that I would tell you the song. That consists of talking with no musical tone.”

Jack nods his head a couple of times, grins, and then responds with, “Okay luv, ye got me there. Tell me the song.”

You reposition your head and start telling him the lyrics. Finding it a little hard to go through the song without being interrupted, you end up having to explain every meaning to him. Then somewhere along the way he decided to learn the song, so that took some time.

After about an hour or so, the topic shifts off of drug use, and you have to wonder a bit about how it even got there. You turn back over onto your back and put your folded hands underneath your head. Jack shifts a little closer so he now seems to be towering over you. You don’t mind so much, you won’t have to keep looking over at him to talk.

“Jack are you at all tired?”

“No, should I be?” Jack asks, “I know you aren’t.”

“How do you know that? I could be extremely tired and just be really good at hiding it,” you shoot back looking up at him.

“Luv, if you were sleepy, you’d be sleepin’ right now,” Jack informs you.

You frown at his answer. You’re not unhappy, you just enjoy pretending, “Fine then. Be right. Be no fun.”

“No fun?!” Jack incredulously asks. “Captain Jack Sparrow? No fun? I have you know luv, that I am loads of fun. Barrels full of it.”

You start laughing, while picturing Jack in a barrel for no reason at all. “Okay Jack, you’re fun. You’re right. Barrels of fun. All of your fun can’t even fit in barrels. You need to store extra fun in boxes. Some of those boxes even have little pictures on them. Because I drew them for you. One has a whole underwater sea adventure. Pretty cool stuff.”

Jack smiles down at you, “I do so enjoy those boxes luv. O’ course, there’s always more fun ta be had.” He lifts his left hand from his side and slowly runs his finger down your arm.

‘Oh my,’ you think, ‘okay yeah that feels good.’ You decide to see what he’ll do next, so you don’t make a motion to remove his hand. After his finger reaches your armpit he removes his hand and softly rests it on the side of your stomach. The heavy weight of his hand somehow manages to send warmth seeping through the blankets. You just don’t have the heart to swat his hand away, and you don’t really have a good reason to do it anyway, you’re finding that you rather enjoy that weight. Plus the discouraged look on his face is just too damn adorable. ‘For someone who’s so suave with the ladies, he sure is considerate,’ you say to yourself.

Acting like nothing’s wrong you say, “Let’s play a game Jack.”

“What kinda game luv?” Jack coyly asks, obviously entertaining the thought of games that consist of more touching.

“A grueling game of ‘20 Questions’,” you tell him, squashing his dirty thoughts. “We each get to ask the other twenty questions and we take turns. It’s pretty entertaining and pretty good at passing time.”

“Hmmm.... I get ta ask anything?” Jack vaguely asks.

You don’t necessarily like the sound of that. ‘Maybe this isn’t a good idea,’ you reprimand yourself.

“Well yeah, but within reason Jack. Obviously if the question is too heinous I won’t answer. But the same goes for you, if I ask something too personal, you don’t have to answer.”

You peer up at Jack from your spot and start to wonder what you’re going to ask him. ‘I have no idea what to ask him,’ you amazingly think.

“Okay luv, let’s play then,” Jack concludes.

A little frightened for your well-being and wondering how horrible this is going to go, you tell him that he can go first.

Jack seems to go into deep thought when thinking of a question to ask you. He fixes his eyes on the wall to the side of you and just stares for a couple of minutes. Suddenly an all-encompassing smile covers his handsome face and he looks back down at you.

“Okay luv, how exactly do ye feel ‘bout your pirate man? An’ be honest. I’ll know if you’re fibbing. Savvy?”

‘Shit,’ you think.

“Oh and not just me personality luv. Looks too. I know how your brain works lass,” Jack adds while smiling down at you.

‘I hate you,’ you silently tell him.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 8

‘I really do hate you,’ you think while staring up into Jack’s pleased face. ‘You are the anti-christ, absolute evil. I am in the company of the devil. He probably has horns hiding in that mass of hair.’

“I’m waitin’ luv,” Jack taunts you. He uses his hand on your stomach to shake you a little bit, so as to show his impatience.

“Yeah I got it, calm down a moment. I have to think of the best way to put this,” you reply trying to save yourself some time so you can figure out what you should say. You take a couple minutes to mull over your answer. Unconsciously worrying your bottom lip, you finally decide on just being honest.

“Okay Jack. I think that... personality wise... you’re infuriating. Stubborn. Insufferable. You’re quite the pain in my tush, the left side only though, you haven’t spread to the right side just yet. You’re also extremely intelligent but you tend to play that down for some reason. I’m not saying that you act dumb, just that you know a lot more about what’s going on then you let people think. You’re rather entertaining. Surprisingly good at carrying a conversation. Unexpectedly respectful of my wishes and stunningly charming. And your inane love for rum is endlessly amusing,” you ramble off in one quick breath.

“An’ me looks luv,” Jack adds.

You heave a sigh in annoyance that he didn’t forget about that. You had a small hope that he would get sidetracked with the reference to his effect on your butt, but sadly he apparently is rather focused when he wants to be. ‘Fine he wants the truth, I’ll tell him the truth. Maybe I’ll just say it a tad sarcastic-like so I won’t seem to honest, that works sometimes,’ you run through your head.

“Honestly Jack, you aren’t ugly. I don’t get the urge to vomit when I look at you... so that’s a plus. You obviously already know that you’re not on the hideous side of the scale, so I really don’t know why you need to hear it. Probably just to torture me. The way you walk is a mystery though. Can you explain that? Cause seriously chief...not normal. The hair works for you, wouldn’t work for anyone else so be happy. I don’t know of too many guys that can think ‘hey, I’m gonna tie a bone in my hair!’ and have it actually work. All in all, you’re rather... attractive, and maybe a little overwhelming at times,” you tell him. Hoping that you pulled it off with the sarcasm, but noticing his smug expression you know that he’s not that daft.

“Alright Jack, go on and say something. I know you have something self-satisfied to say. So get it over with already,” you tell him.

Jack warmly smiles down at you and laughs a little in his throat. Not a laugh meant to mock, just an appreciative little chuckle.

“Thank ye luv,” Jack simply says. You widen your eyes a little, taken by surprise. You expected something cocky to spill from his lips. Instead he just ended up making you feel bashful and a little speechless.

“Ummm.....your welcome,” you stammer out. ‘I hate this, why am I shy? I don’t need to be shy. I’m never shy,’ your inner monologue babbles, reverting back to the Irish accent.

Jack pats your stomach a couple times and then hauls himself up in to a sitting position. He pulls himself up on the bed, moves his pillow and sits in its place. Leaning on the wall, he stretches his legs out underneath the blankets and places his pillow in his lap. Throughout this whole change of position, you couldn’t help but be momentarily transfixed by his upper body. Even with the lack of light, it’s hard not to notice the smooth expanse of skin covering his entire chest. And the way the muscles in his arms flinched when he dragged his body up into a sitting position. With the way that the blankets are pooled around his waist, it almost looks as if he’s completely naked. If you hadn’t known that he was wearing pants, you would assume that he was nude in all his glory. ‘Which wouldn’t really be a bad thing,’ you curiously think.

The feel of his foot nudging your hip makes you snap out of your admiring state. Realizing that now you can’t see him unless you bend your head back, you pull your arms out from under your head and fold them over the blankets on your stomach.

Jack nudges your hip again so you look up at him, “What?”

“It’s your turn luv, unless ye wanna think about me some more,” Jack tells you, and starts slightly poking your shoulder.

“Okay, stop poking me or I’ll pinch you,” you warn him while jerking your shoulder away from his prodding finger.

“Ooh ye’re a cheeky lil monkey. Promise? Can I pick where luv?” Jack baits you. You seriously start thinking about pinching him. Somewhere rather fleshy.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 9

You decide that pinching him would probably be a bad idea. You don't want to visit that particular road at this moment. You pinch him, he pinches you, it'll end up turning into an event. You also make up your mind that having him sit like that is giving him too much power, so you pull yourself up into a sitting position mirroring his, and set your pillow in your lap. Feeling the cold air hit your chest, you pull the blankets up around you and lean back onto the wall. Looking sideways at Jack, you realize that you miss his large hand resting on your stomach. Pushing that thought aside, you think of something to ask him that may make him be serious for a moment.

“I actually have no idea what I want to ask you,” you tell him while thinking hard, trying to come up with anything at all. 'Well actually I have no problem with coming up with questions,' you think, 'I just have a problem with coming up with non-sexual questions.'

“Nothin’ at all? Come on now, ye can think of somethin’ luv,” Jack matter-of-factly states while absentmindedly pressing small circles around his belly button with his finger. Your eyes drift over to his finger making patterns on his flat stomach and you notice the sparse hairs trailing down from his belly button. You feel the now familiar urge to touch him in any way you can.

Looking back up to his face, you’re a little stunned to see him staring back at you. ‘Great, I’m caught staring again. I seem like a psycho obsessive stalker now.’ The way that he's just staring intensely into your eyes causes a small shudder to go down your spine. It makes you think that he can somehow get in your head and it would be impossible to keep anything from him.

Breaking eye contact, you glance down and your eyes fall on the two scars marring his chest. Wondering again how he got them, you quickly look back up at him and smile at the fact that you now have something to ask him.

“I have a question. How did you get those scars on your chest?” you happily ask, glad to have something to break the tension.

“Hmmmm,” Jack knits his eyebrows together and brings his left hand up to slowly tug on the braids hanging from his chin. He looks down at his chest and then makes a show of snapping his fingers.

“If memory serves me correctly luv, it was bullets. Two of em in fact. Nasty lil buggers they are,” Jack responds. He smiles widely at you.

You role your eyes and sigh in frustration, “Nooo really? I had assumed that two rather vicious Kiwi birds attacked you, plucked at your chest for awhile, and then left you for dead. You mean to say that is not what happened? I am stunned Jack. Now since that isn't likely to happen, obviously it was from bullets. I meant how did it happen you stubborn ass.”

“Well how am I supposed ta know what ye meant ta say luv? Ye didn’ specify,” Jack states while he flicks his hand flamboyantly out into the thin air making his point. "Sides, ye have no idea how savage those primitive lil birds can be luv. They hold grudges. Cannibals. Shame about Kiwi birds."

“Oh yeah, they’re real conniving. Besides, I thought you knew everything? Are you not the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow? I assumed you were naturally intuitive,” you taunt him while you pick at the red cloth wrapped around your right elbow.

“So ye’ve heard of me then?” Jack makes clear and points a finger in your general direction.

You growl a little bit in the back of your throat and hit the pillow in your lap with a huff. “You are infuriating Jack!”

“Thank ye luv. I try just fer you ya know,” Jack leans over slightly and bumps your shoulder with his a few times, then swings his right arm over your shoulders.

“Come on luv, if only ye knew how irresistible ye are when you’re all flustered like. ‘Specially when I’m the one ta do the flusterin,” Jack adds as he pulls your body closer to his. He ends up pulling you a little too hard, almost throwing your body onto his. You throw your hands up to catch yourself and brace yourself on his chest. You end up leaning half over him, your left arm on his chest and your right on his stomach, with his arm holding you tight. ‘Oh crap his skin is soft. Should it be this soft? He’s a pirate. Shouldn’t it be rough?” you wonder. You can feel the hardness of muscle underneath your hands and revel at how something can be so soft yet hard at the same time.

“Calm down Jack, I think you’re squeezing me too hard. I can feel my inner organs being smushed as I speak,” you exclaim while trying to pull away from his clutches. Feeling your resistant movement, Jack obviously decides that he isn’t going to let you get away that easily. He brings his other arm up quickly to wrap around your front and holds you tight.

“Jus’ let me love ye, stop resistin’ me,” Jack laughs. Scowling up at him, you try your best to be angry, or at least pretend to be angry. But you find that it’s just far too hard to stay mad at this man. You unwillingly smile and relax into his embrace.

“Fine Jack, I won’t move. But you think you can release me just a little? My liver will thank you and it’ll be a lot more comfortable if I’m not half pulled over you like this,” you question while wearing an impish smile.

“Comfortable fer who luv? I’m quite happy with ye over me,” Jack replies. But despite what he says, he releases you from his arm across your front. However, he keeps his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. You sigh in gratification at your newfound freedom. Jack tucks you into the side of his body, and you find that you fit perfectly. You nestle into his warmth and lay your head back on his bare arm.

“I knew ye’d start warmin’ up ta me luv. Ye can’ resist me charms,” Jack arrogantly informs you. His fingers are tapping lightly against your arm and you can’t remember ever feeling this safe.

“You’re right Jack,” you sarcastically reply while letting your eyes slide shut, “You’re just resistless, I’m surprised that I lasted this long.” You push you hair out of your face and sigh in contentment, ‘He’s right though. I don’t know of any living woman that would be able to say no to him, including me.’

Jack trails his finger down your upper arm a ways. “How’s your elbow feelin’?” he distractedly asks.

“It’s feeling fine. Hurts a little, but only when I bump it on something or bend it too much. I should call you Nurse Sparrow,” you reply while stifling a yawn, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Not in fron’ of tha crew then luv,” Jack softly tells you as he gently slides you both down into the bed. Removing the pillow from your lap, he sets it between your head and his arm giving your neck more support. Placing his own pillow beneath his head, he pulls the blankets back up around you the best he can while still trying to keep his upper body uncovered. His hand is softly stroking your arm and it causes your entire body to relax even more than it already was.

After a couple minutes of silence passes by, you open your eyes and look over at Jack, his eyes are closed and his face is relaxed. ‘He looks so innocent,’ you think. You shift your body a little bit so your lying on your left side facing Jack. He tightens his arm around you in response and keeps his hand curled around your upper arm. You rest your right hand on the twin bullet wounds on his chest and curl your other hand under your chin. You lean forward slightly and brush your mouth against his jaw bone, feeling the coarse hair there slide against your lips. Satisfied with the kiss goodnight, you lean back away and watch a small smile quirk up the side of his mouth. Smiling yourself, you settle back into his side and close your eyes. As you slowly start drifting off to sleep, you don’t notice that your finger has started to make small circles around Jack’s scars.

Jack makes a lulling humming sound in the back of his throat and pulls you even closer in response. He sighs softly out of his nose and mutters, "Night ye lil nymph."

* * * * *

CHAPTER 10

You are disturbed awake by the sound of footsteps falling heavily above you on deck. You half expected to wake up in your own bed, all the past events being a dream. ‘It must be a member of the crew checking up on things,’ you think to yourself.

You try to scratch your nose only to realize that your arm is immobile. You then notice heavy weight on your chest and open your eyes to see what it is. Sometime in the night you must have rolled over onto your back, only to have Jack roll over onto you. You can’t move your left arm because it is wedged between your side and Jack. Jack’s head is pillowed on your chest, his left leg is twined with your legs, and his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. You smile at the thought that your roles have reversed. You seem to be the one who is now comforting the other. You have the instinct to try and role him off of you, but soon realize that he is way too heavy and you have no leverage.

‘Screw it, I’ll pitch a fit in the morning,’ you decide. You sigh and breathe in his scent. He smells like salt and ocean breeze. ‘No matter how hard they try to bottle this scent, they seriously fail in comparison,’ you think. Darting your eyes around the room you assume that it must still be rather early in the morning since there is no sign of light filtering in the room. Hearing more stomping above, you frown up at the ceiling. Yawning softly, you close your eyes and slowly sink back down into unconsciousness.

Feeling a sharp pain shoot through the side of your head, you groan. Suddenly you can’t remember being this uncomfortable and last time you checked you were rather warm. You open your eyes in small slits and then moan from the sudden pain that it brings. You quickly shut your eyes and roll over onto your back. You slowly sit up and bring your hand up to rub your eyes. Slowly opening your eyes you’re bewildered at what you see, “What the fuck?”

Furrowing your eyebrows you look around you. You’re no longer in Jack’s bed, in fact you‘re not even in Jack’s room any longer. Looking down you see that you were laying in a puddle of water which explains why you were so cold. Your legs are wet and part of your shirt is soaked. You start to stand up and feel suddenly dizzy from the movement. Putting your hand to your head, you wince from the pain. Gently you poke around your forehead and find that your right temple is especially tender. You look at your fingers and find a little bit of blood there. ‘What the hell?’ you ask yourself. You wait till the dizzy feeling passes and then rise completely to your feet. From what you can tell, you’re now in a cell. ‘More like a freakin cage,’ you think to yourself, ‘It looks like where Jack keeps prisoners.’

The brightest light source is coming from the small window behind you. You don’t bother to look out of it because you know if you do, all you’ll see is water. There’s another similar cubicle across from the cell you’re in, but it appears to be empty. The entire room is fairly small in size and is shrouded in shadows. You wrinkle your nose at the strong stench filling the room. You find it almost hard to breathe, the air is so thick and stale. “It smells like rotting frogs,” you mutter with disgust.

“I swear to God that I am going to murder Jack for this,” you say, assuming that it was Jack that shoved you in here. You distractedly shake the bottom of your shirt, trying to get it to dry a little bit. “Jack!! You bastard!!” you furiously scream as loud as you can. You quickly get a pounding headache and make a mental note that maybe yelling isn’t such a good idea.

You stand in silence waiting for a sign of someone coming to get you out of the cell. After a couple minutes you assume that you’re going to be there for some time. Looking around your immediate surroundings, you find a torn piece of material that looks like it used to be part of a potato sack. You go into the far corner where there isn’t much water on the ground and lay the brown portion of cloth down. You slowly lower yourself down and lean on the wall behind you. You tuck your knees real close to your chest and pull the shirt down over your legs as best as you can. It manages to cover you almost completely. Resting your head on your knees, you shut your eyes as tightly as you can.

The sound of the water splashing against the side of the ship is prominent and it manages to relax you somewhat. After the pounding in your head recedes, you ponder your current predicament.

Gently touching your bloodied temple you think, ‘I had to have been hit or something, why else would I not remember how I got here? So then it couldn’t have been Jack. Jack’s a bastard but he’s not cruel.’

Muffled voices sink down through the floor boards above you, but you can’t make out the words. Taking your chances with the possibility of angering your brain again, you scream out as loud as you can. ‘Maybe if I’m annoying enough someone will come down here,’ you decide.

After about twenty minutes of yelling and shouting anything you can think of, you hear a door slam open to your right. It slams shut and loud footsteps thunder towards you. You stay seated and wait for whoever it is to enter the room.

‘Ooh you’re a looker,’ you think to yourself as the man walks up to your cell. Obviously a pirate, he’s extremely dirty and looks near death. His tall and lanky form is mottled with discolored skin. His clothes have holes everywhere and you marvel at how he keeps them all together without the aid of safety pins. He looks like he hasn’t eaten a real meal in weeks. You get the sudden image of Jack Skellington from “Nightmare Before Christmas” and giggle at the picture. With how scraggly and soiled he is, you’re surprised at how clean shaven his face is.

“Wha’ the ‘ell ye laughin’ at?” the pirate demands in a raspy voice while glaring openly at you. ‘Well he’s obviously not as pleasant as Jack Skellington,’ you decide.

“Hmm, I wonder. Now that’s a real stumper,” you sneer at him from your position on the floor.

“Where the hell am I? Who the hell are you? Why the fuck am I in a god damn cage? And where in the fucking hell is Jack?” you fire off at the man, demanding answers.

“Ye’re gonna have ta wait till the Cap’n tells ye all that. An shut you’re mouth, we’re sick of all tha shoutin’,” he spits at you and then giggles to himself like an amused child.

“Yes I’ll be sure to keep it down. My apologies,” you sweetly say with a bright smile. You quickly drop the smile and scowl at him, “Or you can just piss off you pathetic lapdog.”

The dirty man looks actually looks insulted and then turns to leave. As he’s storming off you yell after him, “Tell your brainless Captain that I want to speak with him right now! Jack’s gonna be pissed you guys took me! You don’t wanna see him when he’s angry! ......He’s like a tiger that was backed into a corner! It’s brutal!”

‘He’s probably drinking right now,’ you add in your head.

CHAPTERS 11-15

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