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UNDER THE CARIBBEAN MOON Author: Sparrows Mistress Disclaimer: Alas, I don’t own Johnny Depp, Captain Sparrow, or anything to do with PotC. The closest it comes is the sparrow tattoo on my leg. My little piece of Captain Jack. Summary: What do you do when your little ‘kidnapping’ scheme goes terribly wrong? In the beginning, all you wanted to do was run away and start over now you receive the attentions of the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow when you stowaway on his ship by mistake. Being a well-bred lady, you shouldn’t even allow your body to react to his every touch, the simple caress. But you walls start to crumble fast and before you know it, you’re caught up in the whirlwind that is Captain Jack. * * * * * CHAPTER 1 – Plans Set Into Motion Tonight was the night. Your parents had taken your younger brother Nathanial to your grandfathers’ house on the island to stay while they were gone. You watch your parents as they leave to board their ship bound for England. Your Aunt Sylvia was getting married in two weeks and since your father and mother had decided to go there, you uncle Commodore James Norrington would be coming to watch over the house and you while they were gone. Had your best friend Elizabeth, who was still on her honeymoon been there, you would have had help in your venture. You had played sick to avoid going, having come down with the flu that week, being left in the care of the maids that you had already dismissed for the night, telling them that you wanted to be alone. They headed off for the night to themselves, those remaining heading for the servants’ quarters. After making sure you were definitely alone, you set your plan into action. You change into a set of your older brothers’, Justin’s clothes you had stolen earlier that week; a simple white shirt and leather pants that he had left behind while he was at college. You tuck the tiny bag of money you have down the inside of the boots you had taken also and tied a black bandana around your head, needing to hide the wavy hair. As you look in the mirror, you barely recognize the woman who’s staring back at you. You stare down at the letter in your hands that you had written the night before with your other hand so no one would recognize the writing. You take a dagger, one that your father had given you years before, and pinned the note to the wall with the tip. You proceed too thoroughly trashing your room to make it look like there had been a struggle and crept out of the house. You mother was going to loose her mind, more so over her beautiful furniture that you destroyed. How long would it be until they noticed that you were gone? If you were lucky, they’d know within a month. If not, maybe two or so. Either way, you would have enough time to get away from Port Royal. As you creep along the docks, carefully selecting which ship to board, a thousand thoughts ran through your mind. What if they didn’t find you? What if they didn’t come after you at all? You rolled your eyes. You had enough money to start over somewhere if you had to and you’d be better off, which was your original plan. You had heard mention of your father wanting to marry you off. You’d be damned! If you were to marry, you would be picking the man. After passing many of the ships, you saw one that floated in the bay. The full moon hung high up, casting its beams down on the water, backlighting the ship. Carefully stepping over the side of the dock, you huddled down into the row boat and rowed to the ship. Once at the side, you pull an extra dagger from your boot and make quick work of hacking a hole in the boat. As the water floods the tiny vessel and it sinks into the bay, you climb the side of the ship by way of the rope ladder. You looked over the side of the ship, seeing no activity and climbed over the side, huddling down behind a stack of crates. Stealthily, you creep along the deck, sneaking inside of the room behind the helm. A bed, smaller than yours but large enough for two people sat in a corner, an overly large trunk sat at the end. A desk that was cluttered with papers and a half empty bottle of what only could be alcohol due to the distinct smell in the room, sat under the small window. A few other empty bottles cluttered the floor, clinking together as they rolled over the rugs as the ship swayed in the water. A large closet was on the far wall, flanked by two smaller ones. A large table surrounded by six chairs upholstered in velvet sat off to the left. All in all, this was a very lovely room. “Cap’n!” you heard and spun around. How had they gotten back to the ship that quick? You hadn’t been given enough time to hide. Quickly, you turned the key to lock the door, buying a few precious moments to search out a spot. Your eyes fly around the room. Opening the closet, you see that there is no room for anything except the maps and bottles. After looking inside the two smaller, they are ruled out. You were tiny but no contortionist. You do think about grabbing a pistol for protection but decide against it. You’d probably shoot yourself in the leg or something then where would you be? Suddenly, it comes to you. The trunk! You lift the lid, seeing that most of the clothes are missing and climb inside. You shift around, laying the clothes over top of you as cover and shut the lid. The hot confines of the trunk prove too much for you in the little time you’ve been in there. You grab one of the shirts, wadding it up and putting it between the lid and the bottom, letting the cool air blow inside. You here someone push on the door, vibrant cursing coming from the other side. “Gibbs! Me bloody door is locked! Damn it to the depths of Davy Jones bleedin’ locker!” Jack yells, throwing his weight against it, the trinkets in his hair clattering together. You pull the shirt back inside as you hear something hitting the door, harder and harder each time. You would have to put up with the heat for a while. “Blast it all Jack! How did you lock it?” Gibbs asks, watching as Jacks rams the door with his shoulder. “What the hell do ye mean, ‘how did I lock it’? It locks from that side,” Jack growled, pointing at the door. “No ‘I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, Savvy?’” Gibbs asked, chuckling, his large stomach shaking with the rest of him. Jack was positive that he could do anything. “Are you sure that you didn’t loose the key in the tavern?” “Gibbs, yer… tryin’… me… patience. Either go… look… for a… key… or… jump… off me… ship…” Jack growled, hitting the door again, punctuating every other word. “Aye aye, Captain,” Gibbs says, leaving Jack to figure it out on his own. He had a key in his pocket but Jack was not going to know that. Gibbs still loved to get one up on Jack every now and then. Gibbs was sure that someone had locked the door and was playing a joke on the Captain. God help the man if Jack found out whom. ~Thirty minutes later~ Jack took a few steps backwards, hitting the door with his entire body. The wooden door gave up and splintered, pieces flying everywhere. You hear the explosion and jump. Your starting to think that you may have picked the wrong ship and it is confirmed when you hear the man, accompanied by someone else, enter. “Jack? What are we going to do about the door?” Gibbs asks, frowning at the mess. His finger pushed at the metal hinges, the only pieces of the door that were still attached to the frame. “Go get one from one of the cabins. We’ll replace it in Tortuga when we dock.” You listen intently, trying to figure out where they are in the room. You hear footsteps coming closer then retreat, seeming to continue by you. “Gibbs, have all the men returned? We are goin’ set sail tonight,” Jack says, looking over the maps. “I want to be gone before Norry arrives.” “Aye Captain. Shall I ready them?” Gibbs asks. “Aye,” Sparrow said, looking over the maps. His finger idly twirling one of his chins two braids. He would need the fastest course possible to Tortuga. After catching wind of the Commodore's return, they were getting out of Port Royal quickly. “And see if ye can find out who stole me damned boat! I don’t fancy havin’ ta swim out to me ship.” You cover you laugh to avoid a chuckle. “Cap’n Sparrow?” came one of the men, seeming stumped that there was no door to knock on, called from the doorway. “Aye Stephan? What be wrong?” Jack asked, pulling maps from the cabinet. An odd course would have to be plotted to throw the Commodore off if he was told Jack had been there. "Nothin’. The men are waitin’ for yer orders,” Stephan said, looking at Gibbs, wishing someone would give him some orders. “Weigh anchor. Turn ‘er around and head for Tortuga,” Jack said. “Sail far out then head west.” “West?” Stephan questions. “Tortuga’s east,” he contradicted uneasily. “Don’t you think I know that boy?” Jack snaps. “Go west then circle back and go east. We’re gonna throw off Norry.” “Aye Cap’n,” Stephan said, leaving the cabin quickly. You hear the footsteps shuffle around the room and slowly die down, leaving you in quietness. After you are positive that you are alone, you open the lid, letting the cool air hit your sweat-covered body. As you gasp the cool air into you lungs, you ponder what you have heard. The man obviously didn’t get along with your uncle but not a lot of men did. As long as you stayed hidden for the voyage you should be good. Tortuga was maybe a week’s travel. You could manage to stay out of sight for a week. God forbid he found out that you were Norrington's niece. * * * * * CHAPTER 2 – Jack's Surprise ~Four days later~ So far so good. You had been able to stay secreted away from everyone. It was truly hilarious when Jack would have meals in his cabin and you could steal a tiny piece now and then. The poor stupid man had no clue where his food kept going to. He blamed it on the over consumption of rum that day and he had forgotten that he had ate it. The tray that sat on the desk was filled as usual and you help yourself. The grapes were bitter but edible. Pieces of meat that you assume are pork sit beside of the hardened biscuits and you break one apart, laying the meat between the halves hoping that the juices would soften the bread somewhat. As you nibble on the sandwich, you stared at the few pictures the man has in the cabin. He was handsome, you would admit. Before you had only seen peeks at him and those were usually of his legs from being so close to the floor. He was older than you first thought and the woman beside him was ravishing. You had heard stories for years about Captain Sparrow but you really thought he was only, maybe, thirty. The man in the picture was closer to fifty and looking nothing like a sea captain would. He was dressed very stylishly as was the lady beside of him that you assumed was his wife. “Jack, we really need to talk about this.” You hear Gibbs’ voice from the hallway and run for the trunk, peeved that you have to get back inside already. The kinks in your legs were only starting to work themselves out. “Cap’n, I’m tellin’ ye, there’s something brewin’. I feel it in me bones. It’s not good” Gibbs says. “Mr. Gibbs, it’s a storm. Everybody knows it. Alls you ‘ave ta do is look out past the bow. Just let Ol’ Jack take care of anything that happens” Jack said, hoping that Gibbs would leave him alone to enjoy his dinner. As you close the lid of the trunk, the door flies open, hitting against the wall with a bang. You hear the muffled voices, saying something about a storm. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? You’d weathered many storms in Port Royal. What could be more different that one on a ship? “What about the one coming in behind us?” Gibbs asked Captain Almighty. “Gibbs, do you want to captain the ship?” Jack snapped, sitting down behind his desk, kicking his feet up onto the corner and reclining backwards, his fingers locked together and behind his head, looking quite comfy. “Jack, somethin’s not right. The weather is already gettin’ bad and you’ve got yer ‘eart set on sailin’ straight into the ‘eart of the storm. I’m just sayin’s all.” Gibb runs a weary hand over his face. He had sailed through storms a hundred times but never got used to it. He down right hated it! “If we get caught in the middle of both, we’ll be lucky to see day light again.” “Gibbs, I’m Captain Jack Sparrow,” Jack said, pausing to wave his fingers through the air dramatically, “savvy?” Jack flashed his ornery smile. Gibbs growled at Jack and rolled his eyes. If he heard that line once more he was going to pull out what was left of his hair. “Really Gibbs,” Jack chided, “Ye can’t keep questionin’ me in front of the crew. They’re gonna start thinkin’ that I can’t sail me own ship.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side as he looked at his first mate. “Jack, you know that’s not the case,” Gibbs says, leaning onto the desk. “I only question some of the things you do when you’ve drunk yourself into a stupor!” Gibbs growled. “You don’t think straight when you’re like that Jack. I’m half tempted to throw that damn cabinet off the side of the ship!” Gibbs yelled as he pointed to the home for the rum. “Now you’ve crossed the line!” Jack yelled back, standing up and bracing himself on the desk, nose to nose with Gibbs as they yelled back and forth. After an hour and their argument still going strong, the heat is starting is causing colorful spots begin to appear in front of your eyes. If they would just finish up the discussion and leave, you would have a few moments to open the trunk and cool down but that was not going to happen. As the voices seem to fade in your mind, your vision does also. The swirling colors are growing worse and if you don’t have air soon, your lungs are bound to burst. You feel the burning in your chest from lack of oxygen and know that you will either have to die in the trunk or give yourself away. Dying was defiantly not part of the plan and you figure after two days they were far enough from port. “Jack, I’m only tellin’ yous all. Somethin’s gonna happen!” Gibbs yelled. Just as Gibbs finished speaking the lid of the trunk burst open, Jacks clothes fly everywhere and you emerge, gasping for air. “WHOA!” Jack yelled, drawing his pistol and fumbling with it, Gibbs following suit, pointing the barrels at the intruder. “What the hell?” Gibbs mutters. “How did she get here?” Gibbs looks at Jack, annoyance in his voice. “Nay, I didn’t bring her aboard. If I had, do you honestly think she would be in the trunk?” Jack asked, looking at Gibbs like he had lost his mind. “And they women are long-winded,” you gasp. As you sat there, flushed and fanning your face, the two men look at you. Air was your first thought. After you had supplied your lungs, your attention went to the men who had their guns pointed at you, cocked and ready. Well, what did you really expect? You were in fact a stowaway on the ship and you had heard of stowaways being killed for sneaking onto a ship without buying passage. Once the younger of the two men tucked their weapons back into their pants, a relieved breath escaped past your lips. Now what really concerned you was that he came swaying towards you. You try to back up but you collide with the trunk. Gathering your strength you pull yourself out of the trunk and backing yourself into the corner of the room. Your eyes rake over him quickly. You can smell the sea on him, mixed with rum and knew he was the one whose cabin you were in. A tri-cornered hat sat upon black hair that was dreaded and unkempt, desperately in need of combing and cutting in the lady-like opinion but the style suited him. Trinkets adorned chunks of his hair; beads, pieces of bone, and colored threads. His goatee had been divided into two braids at the bottom of his chin. The Caribbean sun had tanned his skin to a deep golden brown. His clothes left something to be desired but they weren’t bad; a thin shirt that used to be white but was now a dull cream color and hung open to his breastbone, blue pants that were ragged and worn and they led down into mid-calf brown boots, two sashes adorned his body; one white and red stripped tied around his waist and the other faded red one was around his head to keep his hair from his face. His cutlass hung down his left side. Your appraisal stopped when you reached his eyes. Those deep chocolaty brown orbs were locked with yours and at the moment, you couldn’t remember ever seeing a lovelier pair. The black kohl, that was common with pirates, had been smeared around his eyes. “What’s yer name?” the man asked, crouching down in front of you, his forearms resting on his knees. You take another glance at the pistol sticking out of the top of his pants and at the other mans still pointed on you and swallow hard. “Parley,” you whisper. “I demand parley.” Gibbs rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that word more than enough to last a life time,” he grumbled. “Lass, that won’t work,” Jack said, shaking his head. “I’m the Captain and I intend to do you no harm…yet… as long as you cooperate. Now, your name,” he asked again, his voice borderline on patience and irritation. “( ),” you answer. “Beautiful name lass. Can’t say that I’ve heard it a lot around here in the Caribbean. But alas, beautiful. Now, what are you doin’ stowin’ away on me ship?” Jack asked. “Reasons you couldn’t possibly understand” you say, still unsure if you can trust these men or not. Something in the younger ones eyes says that you can. There was a gentle look in his eyes that you had yet to see in any ones but your uncles. Gibbs mumbles something incomprehensible and leaves the room. “Reasons Jack couldn’t understand?” Jack repeats, extending a hand down to you as he rises to help you to your feet. “Well, since there is no real reason I guess we’ll have to take you back to Port Royal,” Jack says, turning away. “No! Please!” you gasp, starting after him. Jack spins back around, hands in front of him, touching at the fingertips at his lips, a cheeky smile on his face. “What I meant was, if you could take me with you to the next port I would be glad to pay for my passage,” you say sweetly, pulling money from the little bag that was in your boot. Jack saw the tiny money bag you had and shook his head. “Nay lass, it won’t be necessary. I was just wantin’ to see if there was a reason for yer stowin’ away on me ship” Jack returns, smiling broadly at himself. He was such a quick thinker, he told himself. “Now that I have told you my name sir, you might tell me yours?” you ask. Your secret would be coming out soon enough. “Lass, how have you not heard of me?” His tone was filled with astonishment. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service” he says, taking off his hat and bowing before you. “Oh no,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “You’ve got to be joking” you giggle as it turns into a gut-wrenching laughter. Jack Sparrow? The Captain Jack Sparrow? How in Gods name had you managed to pick his ship out of all the ones at the docks. “May I ask what is so funny?” Jack asks. You can see the odd looks you receive from Jack and can’t help but laugh aloud again. “Only I would pick a pirate ship, especially this one!” Laughter takes over again. “Besides you look nothing like the pictures,” you say, pointing to the few that sit beside the bed. “Those are of my parents,” he says, irritation in his voice, not bothering to glance where you are pointing. “What is so funny about me ship?” Jack asked, growing angry that you are laughing at the Pearl. “It’s not your ship, I promise. It’s just that you have no clue who I am, do you?” you ask, the same amused tone filling your voice as you finally compose yourself. “Luv, if I had met you before I surely would remember,” Jack said, smiling now that he found out you were not laughing at his ship. His gold teeth winked in the suns light that came through the small window when he smiled. “Before I tell you who I am, I need a few promises made,” you say seriously. There was no way anything that had happened to Liz was going to happen to you. Jack nodded his head. He was after all, Captain Jack Sparrow, and he despite his best efforts he could always promise a pretty woman anything. “First off, Elizabeth told me that there was a plank on this ship and I will not have to walk it.” “How do you know---?“ Jack asked and was quickly cut off. Had he met this girl at the wedding? “Just promise,” you plead, taking his hand in yours. “Second, you can not maroon me on any island.” Jack nodded again, agreeing. An island! Maroon you in my cabin! he thought wickedly. Jack massaged the top of you hand that held his with his thumb until you pulled it away, cocking an unamused eyebrow. “Third and the most important, you will not take me back to Port Royal. Do we have an accord?” you ask, holding out your hand. You watch as Jack lifts your hand to his lips. Gibbs had told Jack something bad was going to happen and Jack told him to let him take care of it. Have fun Jacky, he thought to himself. “Aye, we have an accord,” Jack says. “Now, what could be so horrible that I would maroon you in my cabin, I-I-I mean an island,” he corrected. “Captain Sparrow,” you start and put your hands on your hips, pretending to be offending but he puts up a hand to stop you. “Jack,” he offers with a flourish of his fingers. “Well, Jack, let me start at the beginning. Just to ease your mind, no one knows what ship I am on. I left a note in my bedchamber, saying that I had been kidnapped by pirates. I left no clue as to where I had been taken or by whom. A simple skull and bones was the signature.” “Well, you’ve already endangered every pirate in the Caribbean but continue,” Jack says, smirking. Jack listened to your story, smirking at parts while he sat quietly and intently listening to the others. He laughed, finally figuring out where his food had been going to. Luckily, she was smart enough to know not to get into his rum! “( ), you have told me everything, except why you think I would maroon you or make you walk the plank. Lucky enough, after I got me Pearl back I threw the plank overboard. Now, be a good lass and tell me that dark secret you are tryin’ to keep” his eyebrows wagging mischievously. You take a deep breath. “I am ( ) Norrington, Commodore Norrington’s niece,” you say and watch Jacks face. Nothing. Not a flinch. No sound is made from the Captain. The only noise comes soon after and it is when Jack’s body falls to the floor, curled up in a ball, laughing. “I don’t think it’s that funny,” you say, standing and placing your hands on your hips. “I happen to be a very sought-after woman.” “Lass, if you knew my luck, you’d be laughing too!” Jack says, finally laying flat on the floor. His laughter had subsided and his face had returned to expressionless. “Irony. That is the only word that I can think of.” “Jack, had I known that this was your ship I would have never boarded it, I swear it. Well, that’s not exactly true I guess. Elizabeth had such fun out here sailing the seas and I do envy her.” Jack stared up at you from the floor, a wicked gleam in his eye. How could he be lucky enough, after outsmarting the Commodore at the gallows, to have his niece dropped into his lap? Jack wondered to himself if you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen because you were or if it was because you were James’ niece? He believed the former to be the best choice, yet there was an appeal about having Norry’s niece aboard his ship. You turn and walk to the desk, giving Jack a view of your fetching backside and you hear a low whistle, turning back with the a shocked look on your face. No man had ever dared to whistle at you. “Sorry lass but I can’t help but appreciate the view,” he says, smiling at you. “Anything that glorious should be appreciated.” “Well, I’ll leave that to my husband to appreciate, thank you,” you say, getting the reaction you wanted. “You said husband?” fear in his voice again and he jumped to his feet. “( ), I’m goin’ have to take ya back to Port Royal if that’s the case. Husbands don’t like Ol’ Jack to much, ye see.” “Jack, now really. Do you see a ring?” you ask, holding up both hands for him to inspect. “I have no husband to put your mind at ease. That is part of the reason I did leave. My father was looking to try and marry me off soon.” The wheels in Jack's mind started full force again. He held his hands together behind his back, controlling himself from touching you. Jack had started to wonder how your skin felt, with and without your clothes on. “( ), you never did say how you knew Elizabeth,” Jack asked. “She happens to be my best friend,” you offer. “Me bonny lass, I’ll help ye only because yer good friends with Liz. Once we arrive in Tortuga, we’ll devise a plan.” “Why must we wait until Tortuga?” you question. Jack opened the cabinet doors and pulled out one of the few bottles of rum that was left, uncorking it with his teeth and spitting the cork to the floor. He let the liquid run down his throat, warming his insides. “Because, I’m runnin’ low on me rum. You want a good plan? You best let me get more rum first. Helps the brain,” he said, pointing to his head. “Lush,” you mutter, watching as Jack drains the bottle of the brown liquid. You turn back to the desk, staring at all the maps he had laying out. “You and Liz don’t have the same ideas about rum do you?” he asks fearfully, his grip tightening on the precious bottle. You look up at the window behind the desk, smirking and glad he can’t see you face. “Yes we do, as a matter of fact. It’s a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels,” you finish, turning to face him. A fearing look comes to Jack's eyes as he turns the key to lock the cabinet and tucking it safely in his pocket, wringing a laugh from you. He pauses as he hears the sweet sound fill his cabin. How long has it been since he heard the joyful sound of a real laugh of a woman? More than three years. All the other laughs he had heard were either from his men or the whores he frequented in the ports and those were for his own benefit. They would laugh or do anything else that he wished as long as he paid them. “Well lass, we’ll have to change yet idea of that,” he remarked. “For now, you already know where me clothes are. Get changed but stay here. The storms going to be a bad one from the looks of the clouds.” “Jack?” you call before he can leave. “Aye?” “Now that I’m out of the trunk, where should I sleep?” Jack hadn’t thought that far ahead. His men could get pretty vulgar and bawdy about women and they didn’t usually conduct themselves very well. You couldn’t very well sleep below deck. God only knows what would happen. “Just stay here for the night,” Jack said. He notices the uneasy look in your eye and shakes his head. “I’ll either sleep in the chair or on top of me covers. I can’t have a lady being uncomfortable can I?” “Thank you Jack and I won’t make you sleep in the chair,” you say. As the door clicks shut behind him, you take another appraisal of the room you would be sharing with Jack. It was big enough for two people, easily, and the idea of sharing a room with a man that wasn’t your husband seemed so forbidden that it intrigued you. You pulled a clean shirt of your head and crawled into the bed, almost instantly asleep. It was no where as soft as yours but right now compared to the trunk, it felt like you were sleeping on clouds. * * * * * CHAPTER 3 – And You Didn’t Think A Storm At Sea Would Be Bad The howling and whistling wind woke you from your sleep. You could hear the pounding of the rain hitting the deck outside, coming down in sheets, and pelting the side of the ship. The eerie sounds sent shivers down your back. The ship swayed violently against the waves that were crashing down on the sides and over the deck. Water had started to trickle in under the door the recede with the ships movements. Jack's bed that seemed heavy enough slid across the room. You have a death grip on the headboard as the bed takes you on a trip, sliding this way and that way, that way and this way. One of the smaller cabinets tipped over and you hear everything inside of it as it spills on the floor and begin rolling around. The closets doors open up and all the maps fall onto the floor. Three of the five bottles of rum fall out of the cabin, shattering on to the floor. The bed starts to slide again and with so much force that as it jerks to a stop; you continue to roll out of it, onto the debris covered floor. You face hits one of legs of the desk and it stuns you. You grope out for leverage and the only thing you get is a piece of glass stabbing into your hand and you cry out, pulling the piece from your skin quickly. The cut burns as the remnants of rum saturated it and you keep yourself from crying. If you were going to survive the night, you needed to keep a clear head. Causing much pain to your hand, you tear your brothers’ shirt and wrap a piece around the gash but the blood soaks it quickly. You wrap two more pieces around it, hoping that the pressure will stop the blood flow. Tiny drops of red begin to appear and you’re at a loss. You re-wrap the wound tighter and dismiss it from your mind. Right now you had to concentrate on weathering the storm. Being careful of as much glass as you can, you make your way back to the bed. By the time you reach it, you have coated the bottom of your feet with glass. You make a detour for the rum cabinet and grab a bottle, knowing that enough of the liquid would take away the pain of the glass and you pull the cork out. “Well Liz, here’s to all the fun at sea” you say in a mock salute and turn the bottle up. You get onto the bed and rest against the head board, tying on of your wrists to a corner lest you roll out again. You feel the tingling sensation of the alcohol start quickly at your neck, working down to your fingertips then your toes. As you take the last drink of the liquid, you try to focus on anything in the room but nothing will stop multiplying or moving. “Oh yeah…hiccup…here’s to…hiccup…fun at…hiccup…sea,” you slur. The bottle rolls from your hand and smashes on the floor with the rest of the other glass. The bed continued to slide around the room but you didn’t notice. You had passed out and were completely fine with it. Jack came stumbling into his cabin an hour after the storm had finished with him. The next time Gibbs said not to sail into a storm, Jack was going to listen. All of his men were safe and in good spirits surprisingly but Jack was ready to collapse. Hopefully ( ) would be asleep and he could just… Jack pushed on the door of his cabin, confused as why it wouldn’t open all the way. He pushed and pushed until he could fit between the space and peeked around. His bed had lodged itself against the door. He heard glass crunching under his boots and the smell of rum was heavy, almost intolerable. His maps were matted to the floor with his rum while his swords and pistols were---his RUM! He ran to the cabinet. Only one bottle left! “I fear this is going to be bad,” Jack said, tapping his fingers idly against his chin, and then turned to look at what was left of his room. He picked up the maps, unrolling them carefully and hanging them on the wall to dry. Jack left the room to obtain a broom to try and sweep up the glass before he or you got hurt and when he reentered the room, he saw you lying on the bed. Your feet were bleeding still and he could see the small shards of glass poking into them. “( )? Are you okay?” he asked, not bothering to be quiet. You were his first concern at the moment. The last thing he would need was for Norry to catch them and find his niece bloody and bruised up. The large bruise on your face is ugly enough to make him cringe. Why he didn’t think to secure anything was beyond him. “( )?” he asks louder and you start to stir. “Jack?” you murmur and he can smell the rum on your breath. “How in the hell have you been drinking?” he asked, sitting you up. “Very luckily,” you mumble in reply. “Damn,” you growl as every muscle in your body rebels against the movement you insist on inflicting upon it. You feel Jack picking up your sore feet and you know the rum is wearing off. “Here, drink some more of this,” he tells you, grabbing his last bottle of rum and handing it to you. You pull the cork from the bottle and drink deeply, knowing that despite the foul taste it will make the pain go away. After giving the rum enough time to work, Jack quickly picks out all of the pieces of glass and grabs a container of salve he had gotten from one of his ‘lady-friends’ in Tortuga on the last visit and smears your feet. When he unwraps the bandage he gasps at the sight. The gash was long and would probably need stitches but he knew better than to try. “What happened?” he asked finally. “I had a party. What do you think happened?” you snap. “You room tried to kill me!” Jack laughs under his breath and covers the gash, knowing that the salve will speed the healing. He wraps the wound back up and bandages the rest of your wounds. Jack takes your face between two of his fingers, appraising the bruise. Damn, but it was ugly. There was a tiny break in the skin on your cheekbone with he applied more of the salve. He felt confident that in a couple of hours the wounds would feel better. “Well, if there hadn’t been a storm, I’d think you got drunk and destroyed me cabin” Jack taunted. “Ha ha ha,” you sneer. “You have no clue what I’ve been through.” Jack smiles as the sight you make. Even though you’ve weathered you first storm at sea, you’ve made it through and looked good afterwards despite your wounds. “Go ahead and sleep ( ). I’m going to clean up and take a short nap.” You nod your head and you’re already falling back asleep from the extra dose of rum. Jack presses a kiss to your forehead and smiles. He had never met a girl he would actually have enjoyed a trip on the sea for this long. “You’re me kinda woman ( ),” he whispers. You smirk in your sleep and mumble, “Every woman is Jack,” and he pouts. Elizabeth really needed to keep her mouth shut about him. He’d have to remind her about it the next time he saw her. After Jack finished cleaning the cabin, he dragged out the large wash-basin and boiled enough water to fill it. Once the water was inside, Jack stripped down to nothing and stepped in, letting the hot water work it’s magic on his muscles. Jack slipped his head under the water, feeling the hot water engulf him and it felt so bloody wonderful. The coldness from the waves and rain had chilled him to the bone but his thoughts quickly wander back to you. He still couldn’t believe he’d been so careless about his room. He knew what a storm could do and now he was dealing with it. Every time he shut his eyes he saw you, bruised and bandaged. You awake sometime later, amazed at how clean the room had gotten in such a short time. You noticed all the maps drying around the room and all the mess on the floor had been done away with. You are surprised that your hand and feet feel much better but your cheek was another story. It was still throbbing. You remember hitting the desk and the bottles breaking. If you ever saw a storm at sea again, it would be too soon. You hear the water sloshing and humming from behind and you roll over, confronted by a naked Jack. His back is to you and you know it seems horrid but you just can’t tear your eyes away. Damn, but he was gorgeous. You watch as the water trickles down his body from his stance and are entranced. You had never seen a man without a shirt, let alone naked like Jack was and it gave you an odd feeling inside. Something seemed to tighten deep within as your eyes ran over every inch of his muscled body. You start unwrapping your hand and feet to see the damage for yourself. Jack grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist and you growled in protest which brought him spinning around. Oh my God, your mind screams. Did I actually just make that sound! Jack's eyes were telling you yes, yes you did and you felt your cheeks flush. “Sorry,” you mutter sleepily. “Didn’t you say views should be enjoyed?” you tease. “( ), that’s not very nice to do to Ol’ Jack,” he says, stepping from the tub. Jack lets him eyes run down your body. You were still only wearing his shirt and that was left open at the neck, giving him an ample view of your breasts and you still had enough liquor in you not to care. Jack saw that the sheet had fallen down from you, exposing one leg from ankle to bottom. “How is the crew?” you ask, piling the bandages beside of you as your try your fingers and toes, wiggling them to test the soreness which seems to have left. He watched with great fascination as your toes curled, knowing that he could make them do it too if he had you pinned to the bed. “Fine,” Jack says, pulling his gaze from your skin. “We should really get moving. We’ve lost at least a day or so from the storm. Figured you’d like to come up on deck today, if yer up to it.” “That would be wonderful. I see you cleaned up,” you say, trying to make conversation. “Yeah, while you were passed out,” he taunted. “Why don’t you get on a fresh change of clothes and meet me on deck. I’d imagine that you’d need some fresh air after being stuck in here durin’ our little bit ‘o fun. Now that the men have cleaned up the decks, you’ll love some time in the air.” I definately do! he thought. What I really need is a cold dip in the sea! “Okay,” you say and watch as Jack dresses. He really did have a nice body and you weren’t ashamed to look at it and he obviously wasn’t ashamed of it either. “Really ( ), if you expect to be able to walk out of here you’re going to have to stop watching me,” Jack snapped. He didn’t know how much more of you staring at him right now that he could take without doing anything about it. “Sorry,” you snap back. “I didn’t realize that it was offending you.” You spun around in the bed so that your back was facing him. Jack opened his mouth to rephrase what he meant but shut it just as quickly. The faster he got out of the cabin, the better. Norry’s niece, Norry’s niece, he reminded himself. And truly, the last thing he wanted to try and explain was why you weren’t going to be able to walk out of the room. You heard the door shut soon after you had turn and rolled your eyes. Why men had to be so rude was beyond you. A simple ‘( ), would you please turn around?’ would have worked. Now, when you got on the deck, he’d be nice and try to make up for being rude. * * * * * CHAPTER 4 – Damn Drunks And Punishment On The Sea By the time you had gotten changed, the sun had started set and Jack had changed course, setting sail for Tortuga. The storm was behind you now, thanks God! You could still kill Jack for sailing dead into it. As you opened the door, the salty smell of the water hits you and you nearly gag. On land, the aroma did not seem as strong and it makes you queasy. The walk from the cabin to the helm seemed like an eternity as the ship sailed through the waters. You stagger over the wood, putting you arms out slightly, hoping this will give you a little aided balance. You start to wonder if Jack is always staggering because of the rum or because it is almost completely impossible to walk straight across the ship. “’Ello lass,” Jack called, smiling but the pleasant look faded quickly. The feeling of going up and down, up and down proved to be too much for your stomach and a green tint began to take over your face. With one hand pressed to your stomach and the other clapped over your mouth, you run to the side of the ship. Jack secures the wheel and follows, pulling your hair back as you empty your stomach which only happened to be the rum. You were never touching it again. “Jack, I don’t want you to see me like this,” you say, your head still hanging over the side but you’re feeling considerably better. “Luv, do you think you’re the first to loose yer breakfast?” he teased, rubbing your back gently. One of the crew hands Jack a bottle of the low-grade liquor that was being brought up on deck which he hands to you, giving you something to wash your mouth out with and you shake you head. “Anything but that,” you tell Jack and he sends the boy off for a mug of water. After rinsing your mouth, Jack hands you a handkerchief to wipe you mouth off with. “I’ll buy you another,” you say and drop the fabric down to the sea. “And rum does not count as breakfast,” you inform him. Jack smiles again and a small laugh escapes from your lips. Your being sick does not seem to have any effect on Jack, which surprises you. Your own father can’t even be in the room when you’re sick at home yet this man that you barely know show no signs of repulsion. “Luv, let me show you a little trick,” Jack says and rotates your body around to face over the railing again. “Jack, I don’t want to see the water,” you groan but Jack's hands remain on your waist, firmly. You couldn’t help but notice how warm Jack's hands were through the thin material of the shirt. “The next time you feel sick, look at the horizon,” Jack tells you, moving his hands to rest on the railing, his arms surrounding you now. “If you don’t, I’ll soon run out of handkerchiefs before we dock in Tortuga.” “Why the horizon Jack?” relishing the contact of your bodies. You had hoped that he wouldn’t act weird after the tub incident and he obviously wasn’t. He was acting even bolder and why wouldn’t he? You had been curling up to him at night, sharing the little looks when no one was looking. You had shown every sign that his affections were unwelcomed. “For one, if yer eyes stay on it, it seems not to move. Two, why not stare at something so beautiful?” he asks. When you turn around to thank him, you see that his eyes have been glued to you the entire time and the last part of his comment had been directed at you. You were right. Now he was going to be sweet to make up for being an ass! Jack leans forward slightly, coming closer until your bodies were touching; you can feel his breath on your lips. His hands come back to your body, one at the top and one at the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. You eyes start to flutter shut, knowing that he is going to kiss you, when a deep bellow brings you both apart. “Where be Jack?” Gibbs yelled and he appeared to be in a fluster. Jack gives a low growl that you can feel against your body as he turns to face Gibbs. “What Gibbs?” Jack drawls, his hands were on his hips now and you already missed the feel of them on your body. “Jack, there’s some trouble below deck. Brandon and Michael decided that they were goin' to celebrate makin’ it through the storm a wee bit early and have started drinkin’ the liquor.” “I don’t see what’s so wrong with that,” Jack says impatiently. This had better be going somewhere good or you're going overboard, Jack swears in his mind. “Well, Michael took the last drink of one of the bottles and Brandon called him out on it. They decided that havin’ a duel would be the best way to settle it.” “Excuse me?” Jack questions. “A duel? Where the hell are we? England? What year is it again?” “The boys have their pistols and---“ Gibbs words were cut off as a rush of men came up from below, followed by a series of shots. Brandon and Michael appear and Jack is already pushing you towards the cabin, wanting to get you inside before more shots were fired. “Jack,” you say, grabbing on to him. “What’s going to happen?” “I don’t know but yer not goin’ be here when it does,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous. Jack starting shouting orders to disarm the men. You and he were almost to the door when another shot rang out, hitting the wood in front of you both. A short scream of panic comes from you and your arms wrap around his waist for protection. His right arm encircles you easily while the other reaches for his pistol. Jack drew his weapon and Gibbs followed suit, Jack firing at Brandon while Gibbs shot at Michael, Brandon receiving a wound to the shoulder and Michael, one to the leg. “Take them below,” Jack ordered. “If they don’t die from blood loss, the cat by morning, and marooning when we find unsuitable land.” That night Jack held you tightly within his arms, lying chest to chest like lovers would. He knows that this is comforting to you, simply being held and he can only wonder if you running away from a marriage arrangement is the only reason. You and he had changed that night for the first time in the same room and you were wearing another of his older shirts, coming right to the start of your thighs. Feeling you snuggle closer to him for warmth, he pulls the blankets over your bodies. As he formed a habit of, he pressed a kiss to your temple and you smile in your sleep and he joins you there. Early the next morning, you awoke and you were alone. A simple note saying that Jack would return soon was left on the nightstand which was odd. He never left you notes. You knew you were up early from the lack of light coming through your window and you can only guess it was because of Jack's absence. You pull on your pants quickly, wanting to get up and deck and enjoy the sunrise with Jack, something that you have always enjoyed and wanted to share it with him. Jack would be at the wheel, manning the ship and awaiting the arrival of his crew from below deck and it would give you both a little more privacy. This morning you would share the time with him, his body curled around yours to keep you warm from the cool morning air. You reach for the smaller jacket Jack had found for you and noticed his long jacket still hung on the peg. It was obviously a nice morning. You open the door quietly from the cabin, wanting to surprise him. When you walk out, you are met with a row of the crews’ backs. You weave your way through the men, all of them in shock as they see you but not a word is spoken. “Brandon Richards and Michael Sutton,” you heard Jacks voice floating over the ship. “You are both found guilty of drawing weapons and opening fire below deck, endangering every member of the crew. You will each receive 39 lashes with the cat-o-nine’s.” You get to the edge of the men and take in the view, watching as Jack nods to Gibbs, signaling him to begin the punishment. You look to the men. Both Michael and Brandon were bound by the arms above their heads, shirtless. You see Gibbs holding the most horrid looking contraption you had ever seen. Attached to a leather handle were nine braided strips of cow hide that were frayed at the ends. You watch as Gibbs raises his hand holding the weapon high in the air, bringing it down hard on Brandon’s back then Michaels, alternating between the men. It was beyond your comprehension how Jack could only stand there, arms crossed over his chest, his hat sitting atop his head as usual. He didn’t even flinch at the howls of the men as the cow hide hit their back, tearing pieces of skin along with it as it was taken away. You had only counted three lashes to each man as their legs buckled beneath them, head hanging down lifelessly but the lashing continued. “Bloody hell,” you breathe and everything stops. Jacks eyes, along with everyone else’s, fly to where you stand. Jack starts towards you but you did notice. He grabs your upper arm roughly and pulls you to the cabin, shutting the door behind you and locking it. Jack returns to his spot and looks at the men, wondering why the in hell they had let you get so close to the front. Gibbs had stopped and waited for Jack's okay. When he received it, the finished out the lashes on the men. You listen from the cabin with you head under the pillow, trying to block out the sounds from the men but it was impossible. They were either still screaming or they were the screams from before, echoing over and over in your mind. You’d never forget that sound as long as you lived. Jack unlocked the cabin door hours later, seeing your body on the bed. Jack sat down beside of you, placing his hand on your shoulder only to have you recoil quickly. Peeking out from under the shirt is five faint bruises from where his fingers had gripped your skin too roughly. His hand curled into a fist, angry with himself. No wonder you flew from his touch. “( ), I didn’t mean for you to see that,” Jack whispers, holding out his hand, palm up waiting for yours. He sees you eyes, filled with tears and fright. “And I didn’t mean to hurt you either.” “Was that truly necessary?” you ask, trying to control the cracking in your voice. “Why couldn’t you have made them mop the decks or fix the sails for a week? A month?” “There’s a code that pirates go by” Jack tells you, taking your hand gently in his. “They received the punishment for their crime.” “Liz told me they were more like guidelines,” you whimper, brushing the tears from your face. “Elizabeth has no damned clue what she’s talking about,” Jack states, pulling your body against his. Once you are in his arms, the dam of tears break. Jack holds your sobbing form tight against his chest as you soak the front of his shirt. “I’ll---I’ll ne-never forget th-this,” you cry, covering your face. “I’m al-always-s going to s-s-see them. H-hear them sc-screaming.” “I know luv, I’m sorry that you witnessed it. You’re never up before ten so I didn’t think to tell you to stay here. Why were you up so early?” Jack questions, tilting you tear-stained face up to his. “The sunrise,” you whisper. “I wanted to watch the sunrise with you. Plus, I was alone. I always wake up soon after you leave.” Jack smiles at the sweet gesture and presses a kiss to your temple. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even paid attention to a sunrise. His focus was always on the sea, checking the ship, taking care of the crew. He swore that if you’d seen one sunrise you’d seen them all. Yet he felt that if you were there watching one with him, he would never see one to compare to it again. He still couldn’t help but wonder why did you have to pick this morning to want to do it? “Go on back to sleep. The entire crew has been up for hours and I’m goin’ lay back down also,” Jack tells you, pulling you down onto his chest. With one arm curled under yourself at his side and the other laying across his chest, you drift off to sleep. Jack covers your hand with his, holding it over his heart. The sweet smell of you drifts up to his nose. Your head was lying upon his shoulder, your even breathing telling him that you were asleep. Jack continues to watch you in your sleep, occasionally frowning at something. He wondered what you were dreaming about. What would make a frown mar your beautiful face? You snuggle closer to him in your sleep, grasping a handful of his shirt in your hand. He sees you flinch like you had been hit and presses a feathery-light kiss to your lips. “No ones goin’ hurt ye luv,” he whispers and it calms you. Jack smiles, giving you one last kiss, and relaxing to take a nap. * * * * * CHAPTER 5 – Anything in Captain Jack's cave, is Captain Jack's ~One month on the Pearl~ “Isla de Muerta,” Jack said reverently, rubbing his hands together in glee at the tiny spot of land off to their left. He would no longer have to deal with Barbossa trying to come back and steal his treasure. One more day and they would be in Tortuga. The past month seemed to have flown by. Jack had lost more time than he had thought in the storm plus with taking a very long detour, put the one week voyage at over a month but it had been worth it. Jack watched you from the corner of his eye. He’d taught you so much and you’d been more than willing to learn. Fighting with a sword, shooting lessons with his pistols, mapping courses, you’d even wanted to learn to climb the ropes with the men. You were starting to come onto the deck more and more. The first few days you would only come out when Jack was there since the episode with Brandon and Michael. Now, slowly, you started to appear more often. If Jack was below deck, he’d hear whispers of you sitting at the stern of the ship drawing on the paper he had given you. The crew said you looked like an angel or a goddess of the sea and he would smirk. As long as his men knew where they stood, he was fine with them. Now a month into the voyage, there wasn’t a spot on the ship that you wouldn’t go without him, except below. You had sworn never to step foot below. As you lean against the side of the railing, you watch with awe as Jack shouts orders to the crew and they jump to carry them out. You turn to look over the railing of the ship as it glides over the water, slapping down onto the water after it crests a wave. The light spray flies up with the wind, lightly covering your face and you smile. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so free, so happy. You grab onto the ropes beside of you, pulling yourself up onto the rail like Jack does, taking in the entire scene and feeling glorious about it. As the ship breaks over another wave you tighten your grip and laugh as the boat seems to go out from beneath your feet. As your feet come back down to make contact with the rail, your right foot slips out from underneath of you and you loose your grip on the rope. “Jack!” you yell quickly. Taking a deep breathe you plunge into the chilly water. The salt water stings the cut that is still healing on your hand. You swim quickly to the surface, needing to flag down Jack. Jack turns as he hears you call his name and doesn’t see you anywhere. He scans the entire deck without finding a sign of you. He looks over to where you were last standing, really hoping that you haven’t done what he’s thinking. He cocks his head, pondering the idea and shakes his head. “Stephan, take the wheel!” he yells, running for the side before Stephan is even at the helm. Jack looks over the side, still not seeing any trace. He runs up onto the poop deck and stares out the back of the ship, finally seeing something surface over five hundred feet back. “Bloody hell” he growls. “Drop the anchor…NOW!” he yells. His hat and coat were tossed away without a thought and he pulled his effects from his body, dropping them where he stood. Jack took a few steps back and runs, landing on the rail with ease and diving over, breaking into the water with little splash and starts swimming back to you. Gibbs runs to the deck, trying to figure out what Jack was doing and finally sees you. “Lower the anchor” he orders quickly, laughing at the two of you. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Jack be so free with anyone and he also hopes that Jack will know when to draw the line. No one, better than Jack, knew how dangerous it was for a pirate to take a lover, especially the Commodore’s niece! Gibbs also knew that he was smarter than that… at least he hoped. You break the surface of the water in time to see Jack diving in. A tiny patch of land a couple hundred feet to your left is closer than Jack and you start to swim for the island. Jack sees you change direction and knows he can catch you before you reach land. He sinks below the surface, knowing that he can close the distance quickly. The land is so close now but when you look back there is no sign of Jack. You keep swimming until something grabs onto your ankle, pulling you under. You struggle under the water, you movements slower but when you open your eyes to see what to aim at, you smile. Jack is behind you, moving his hands up your leg to your waist, pulling you closer to him. He points to the surface and you follow. “What happened?” he asked, running a calloused hand over your smiling face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” “No,” you laugh. “I’m fine. Well, my hand still hurts a little.” “You fell?” Jack asks. He pulls your hand out of the water, looking at the skin that had been torn open again from the coarse rope. The salty water had helped to slow the bleeding and he kissed the palm of your hand gently. “Jack?” you whisper, seeing the look in his eyes from the simple kiss. There was no one around you now, no interruptions. The brown eyes were darkening and the cold water around you seemed to disappear, only leaving you and Jack, so close together. One of his hands cupped your cheek as you spoke his name, pulling you closer. You felt the roughness of his hands on the delicate skin of your face but they felt so good on your skin, so warm and so man. When had you made up you mind to let him so close to you? You had tried to allow only little touches now and then, since you knew that you couldn’t stay with him, you felt it would be better not to start anything that would hurt in the end. “Luv, I can’t help me self,” he whispered before his mouth crushed against yours, moving quickly, and you lost all train of thought. His tongue ran gently over your lips, quite opposite from his lips but you accept him into your mouth, your tongue dueling with his. A moan escapes from him as you allow him into your mouth, his taste infiltrating your body and taking over. He pulls the rest of your body against his and you can feel his firmness against your stomach, straining against his pants and begging for release. Timidly you hand creeps down his chest, feeling every muscle jump under your touch. You hand goes farther down, slipping between his skin and his pants and he groans deeper this time at your intimate touch. You can feel him growing harder in your hand and you revel in the idea of being able to do that to him. “( ),” he breathes against your mouth, moving to your neck. The hair from his goatee pricks your skin but you could really give a damn. You were in the water with Jack, his hands and mouth touching everywhere. You feel one of his hands slips inside your shirt, lightly squeezing your breast and a gasp slips past your lips from the touch. His thumb and pointer finger roll your nipple back and forth, rising up proudly against his hand, begging to be touched. “God,” Jack breathed in your ear, his teeth pulling gently on your lobe. You hands slide under his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours. Your fingers brush over his nipples and he rears back slightly, looking into your eyes. Both of you shared the look of knowing that there was no stopping this time around. “Jack!” comes a familiar voice and you both look to the sea. The Black Pearl was sitting not to far off shore and Gibbs was yelling off of the portside. “Jack? Are you both okay?” “Obviously moron,” Jack growls. “Aye, we’re fine,” he yelled back. You float behind Jack, holding onto his back to stay afloat. “We’re going to swim inside and take a looksie!” he yells, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the water. “Where are we going?” you ask, swimming beside of him, taking a look overhead as you swim under a stone archway. “This doesn’t look very safe Jack.” “Goin’ anywhere alone with me is never safe darling, I promise,” he purred, kissing you again once you were inside of the cave. You return the kiss without question, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep him close. Jack pulled the bandana from atop your head, letting your hair flow freely down your back. He ran his fingers through the wet mane, loving its feel in his hand that he has denied himself for so long. You open your eyes, looking around quickly and the place he had taken you. “Jack?” you ask as he starts kissing your neck again. “Jack?” you say a little so sternly, laughing as his braids tickle your skin. “Aye luv?” he breathes. “Where are we?” you ask, holding his head with you hands as you lift his face level with yours. It takes Jack a second to come around and regain his senses but when he does a smile crosses his face. “Isla de Muerta,” he whispers and your eyes widen in shock. You had heard of this place from Elizabeth. She had almost died here if it hadn’t been for Will and Jack. “I’ve heard stories about this place,” you say. “Liz told me about it.” “Elizabeth was here under the most horrible circumstances and didn’t have the time to enjoy the cave as it should be,” Jack said, helping you out of the water and onto dry ground. As you follow Jack through the caves hallways, only catching glimpse of the glittering within. As he lifts you down onto the floor of the cave, you stare around in awe of all of the treasures. Mounds of jewels, crowns, candelabras, gold, silver, and thousands of other treasures lay forgotten inside. Coins that had fallen from the mounds blanket the watery floor, glimmering in the rays of sunlight that made their way through the cervices of the walls. You see the large golden trunk on the island in the middle of the cave and walk to it, leaving Jack to sort through a box of coins which you could only guess he was taking for spending on Tortuga. “Is this the treasure of Cortes?” you ask, your fingers running over the lid. You push it away enough to see the 882 pieces of Aztec gold sitting inside of the trunk and run your fingers over the skull imprints. You know the only way to have the curse affect you is too remove a piece so you leave them inside. Just the feeling of knowing that you touched the sacred treasure excites you. “Not good! What are ye doing?” Jack yells, throwing the box of coins down as he runs across the cave towards you. He grabs your hand out of the trunk and slides the lid back. “Have ye no idea what this is? What it can do?” Jack questions. “I know exactly what it is. I’ve heard the story and I just wanted to see it. It’s not everyday that someone gets to see the treasure of Cortes. I also know that you were greedy enough to take a coin and have the curse reek havoc on you also. I’m glad that you did though.” You press a hand to his stomach where Barbossa had shoved the sword through and Jack knew exactly what you meant. His hand covered yours and smiles at your knowledge of that night. “I only took the coin so I could kill Barbossa before he killed me. Besides, the whelp and me made a great team,” Jack tightened his hand that held the scar from his cutlass that night. “I’m going to finish up. Why don’t you take a looksie? See if there anything you like,” he says. You nod your head and sit down on the front of the island, looking through all the jewels that had been abandoned. Rubies, Sapphires, Diamonds, Emeralds, Onyx, Topaz, Pearls, Amethyst; so many beautiful jewels had been forgotten in the cave and it was such a waste. Jack watched you from thirty feet away. You hair was dry now, waving and curly down your back and pieces fell forward to frame your face. The shirt you wore was untied from his ministrations in the water and he could see the tops of your breasts in the V of the material. The leather pants had shrunk slightly and they were snug, revealing every curve and dip in your hips and legs. He wanted more than anything to wrap those legs around his waist and bury himself deep you, holding you captive for days within his arms. He wanted to strip you down, lay your naked body on Cortes’ trunk and make love to you over and over, claiming you body with his. He wanted to brand you with his body, wanting you to forever remember him. Jack wanted to know that if you ever did take a husband after you had returned home, you would always compare your husband to Jack and be sad knowing that the man would never compare to Jack. Jack turned away, feeling himself growing hard over the thought of your naked, willing body writhing beneath of his. Your hands grabbing at him, pulling him deeper inside of you until there was no way of telling where he began and you ended. He could feel your fingertips raking down his back as he took you, hearing you scream his name over and over as he took you over the edge, feeling you tighten around his shaft as he came with you. He even began to think about what it would be like to wake up every morning with you by his side, knowing as he went through his day you would be waiting for him that night. He would come home from work and your face would be the first thing he would see, smiling that ravishing smile on yours. Then at night you’d be in his bed, ready and willing to act out all the wicked fantasies he had thought of that day. ( ) Sparrow? he thought and quickly shoved the thought away. Where had that come from? he asked himself. He knew that was not even a possibility. Being a pirate came with consequences and never being able to take a lover, let alone a wife, was one of them. Having a home to come to, a normal job, and hell even a normal life was not in the cards. Thoughts like that got many a pirate killed, thinking he could outsmart fate. After his body returned to where he could face you without embarrassing himself, he turn back around. You were staring at something you held, examining whatever it was with an intense gaze. “What have ye found luv? He asked, pocketing the hundreds of coins and closing the space between you both. “I found this in the pile,” you say, holding out a ring. Jack took the ring from the palm of your hand, appraising it. A large rectangular onyx, surrounded by diamonds circling the stone and the band, some how reminded him of you. He couldn’t quite place why but it did. “Luv, would you like to keep it?” he asks. “Jack, I’m sure it’s worth a fortune,” you reply, shocked that he would part so easily with something so beautiful and pricey. “( ), didn’t I tell to see if there was anything you liked,” he asked. “Does it fit?” Jack doesn’t give you time to answer but grabs you left hand and slides it on, feeling it hug your finger perfectly. “Darling, I do believe the ring is yours,” Jack whispers, applying a kiss to the top of your hand. “Are you sure Jack?” you ask again. “If that is what you found that you like, who am I to deny you the luxury?” “Well, it is your cave,” you start. “And all the treasures inside belong to you.” Jack rubs his goatee, thinking about the statement. You are inside of the cave so that makes you his treasure at the moment. “Luv, I’m having a thought,” he says, pulling you up to stand in front of him. “You have made it clear that this is me cave and all treasures in said cave belong to me and I have noticed that you are inside the cave. So, obviously by the code that makes you me treasure.” You can barely understand his logic and he talks so fast when he wants to get his way that you can hardly analyze anything he’s said but you did pick out the words ‘you’, ‘in cave’, and ‘treasure’ and you knew what he was getting at. “Now luv, being Captain comes with some perks and one of them being able to do anything he wants with his captives and you are in fact, a captive at the moment. So, as payment for such a ring, I would say a kiss should suffice.” You eye Jack, deciding that if he can poke fun at you, you can only return the favor. You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, smiling as you back away. Jack reaches out, brushing his hands lightly over your side, drawing a giggle as his fingers graze over a highly sensitive area. “Nay, love. No simple kiss, if that can be called one will do. And, since I have expertly found your ticklish area, I shall be inclined to use it to my advantage. Now, since you have tried to weasel out of the kiss, on top of that payment you will have to tell Ol’ Jack what a wonderful pirate he is also.” “I’m not feeding your ego Jack,” you laugh, like he really needed it anyways. Jack ran his fingers a little firmer over your left side, causing more laughter to escape and he smiled. “Ah-ha,” Jack sighs. “A weakness” he declares, “now I wonder if I do this,” he says, doing the same to the right then both together. You laugh again and again, his fingers deeper and firmer each times until tears are falling down your face. “Damn you to Davy Jones locker!” you laugh, smiling and trying to wipe the tears from you face. “Now darling, what would you want to do that to Jack for?” he asked, feeling you squirming against him and you tried to get away. God, his body awoke quickly to the feel of yours and that was with clothes on. He could only wonder what would happen without them. Jack feels the ground start to give underneath your feet and you try to regain but to no avail, you know you’re going down. Jack grabs you tightly to him when you lost your footing, pulling your both down to the ground with Jack's hands never leaving your sides. |