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Ship in a Bottle	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 4205 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2: All Aboard

Captain Jack Sparrow tilted his head back, letting the morning Caribbean sun fall on his face. They had dropped anchor in Port Royal, and the boat was gently rocking on the waves of the harbor. The sense of anticipation was nearly overwhelming. He was going to get back the Pearl. There would be nothing in the world like captaining her again. Nothing could equal the level of excitement and accomplishment he would feel as he stood at her helm, as though she ship were another extension of his body. He thought of her black sails, her lines, her cannons. Beautiful. Powerful. Fast. Deadly. The Pearl made him feel free and satisfied like nothing anywhere... well, almost nothing.

“Captain, it's the longboat! They're coming back now,” Gibbs called.

“Good,” Jack replied. “Then we're almost ready.”

They had spent the last two weeks assembling one of the finest crews in existence. Port Royal was their last stop. Once he'd heard from Tia about what they'd be facing, he decided he ought to value his hide over his pride, and send for the best. He didn't know if Will would accept his offer - being newly married, what was it, six months now? - but it was worth a shot, since Will was one of the best young men with a sword he'd ever seen. And, notwithstanding certain desires in common - he didn't dislike him. For his part. By himself.

And so he'd sent Will a letter, outlining a very perilous adventure that might result in the return of the Pearl and the pursuit of untold wealth. The letter stated further that if Will wished to participate he should send word and appear at the docks in Port Royal at a given day and time. It also specified clearly that he was to present himself alone.

“Cap'n?” Gibbs called again. “They're boarding.”

It took a moment to process, grammatically, what it was Gibbs was saying. “They?” Jack repeated numbly.

“Aye, there they are.”

Jack turned to see Will Turner being handed up by another crewman. “Will!” He approached and smiled, extending his hand. Will took it and they shook.

“Jack. How've you been?”

“Bored out of my wits, truth be told. And you? How's the little missus?”

Will rolled his eyes. “I'm fine, and her... well, ask her yourself.”

And Jack only had a second to register that his blood seemed to have stopped pumping through his veins, when Will moved to the side, and he saw her, having just been handed up from the longboat.

Elizabeth.

His first thought was, So, I'm not yet completely insane... she really is as stunning as I remembered.
His second thought was, What the bloody hell is she doing here?

But he found speech unusually difficult as she walked toward him, magnificently radiant in a white off-the-shoulder gown that exposed an array of gentle curves and alabaster skin. Her tawny hair caught the sunlight, sparkling as she moved. And her eyes were bright with something. Too late, he realized what it was: anger. By the time he drew that conclusion,
she had already drawn back her hand - her fine-boned wrists jutting out from dove gray lace sleeves, the color of morning clouds - and had slapped him, hard. Jack was still registering that Elizabeth was standing in front of him, and not one of his sleeping mind's apparitions, when he found himself looking out to sea, with a growing sting on his face. His eyes swung back to her.

“That's for not writing,” she stated as imperiously as a queen. Or a governor's daughter.

“I wrote, to Will,” Jack retorted dryly. “Will's the one I wanted on board.”

Slap.

Merciful God, did she hit me again?

“And that's for trying to sneak off on this adventure without me.”

Jack took a deep breath, summoning what was left of his patience, and found himself getting angry, instead. Leaving her here was for her own bloody good. And his, to be sure.

“I'm not trying to sneak off without you, I am bloody well going without you. It's too dangerous. Now get back in the longboat - careful not to smudge that pretty white gown - and I'll have someone take you back to shore so that we can actually depart.”

He barely had time to register that her eyes flashed, again, before he felt the now-familiar sting of her soft palm on his cheek.

“And that's for giving me orders.”

I'm the Captain. I give everyone orders. It's what I do. He thought of retorting with this, but saw her flexing her hand and thought the better of it. Damn her stubborn streak, anyway. He caught Will's elbow and pulled him aside, walking along the edge of the deck.

“I thought I told you not to bring her.” Jack's voice was edgy and hard.

“I tried, but she insisted.” Will sounded frustrated.

“Well, do something, won't you? Are you her husband, or not?”

“Aye, I am, which puts me in a pretty spot. Why don't you do something, since you're the captain of this operation?”

“I just tried, and she wasn't having it, in case you're blind, as well as deaf and stupid.”

“Go on and laugh, but you know as well as I do that she's practically a force of nature when she wants something. And she's been sort of unhappy lately. I fear she's... bored at home, or something. She's been dying to go on a trip.”

“Will, this isn't a tour of the Continent. And speaking of 'dying for,' she could get herself killed...”

At these words Jack paused to think, remembering Elizabeth's skills with a sword, her speed, her usefulness in a battle. And he also remembered what the witch said, which was why he had originally wanted Elizabeth far, far away from this little endeavor. On the other hand... considering who they'd be up against, perhaps Elizabeth would be rather useful. And as long as she was acting the shrew... fine. He pulled at his beard for a moment, and then leaned closer to Will again.

“All right, I'll tell you what, then: the wench can tag along. But I'll let you know now. If she goes into this and gets into harm's way, I, Cap'n Jack Sparrow, am not to be blamed. I've said my piece, savvy?”

Will nodded. “Don't worry. I can protect her.”

“Not if you're dead,” Jack answered under his breath.

“So, tell us, Jack,” Elizabeth called, strolling up from behind them, her smile winsome and her dark eyes dancing. “Just who is this fearsome pirate from whom we're going to steal back the Pearl? The last one you pit us against was 'a man so evil hell itself spat him back out,' but he wasn't so bad. My sword found his heart regardless.” A chuckle from a few of the crewmen.

Jack turned, and smiled evilly at her, aware they had an audience, his gold teeth glinting in the bright daylight. “Come now, can't give you all the credit... after all, my pistol found its way there first.”

Elizabeth stopped, her mouth slightly parted, suspicious Jack was implying something... sordid. Knew he was, because he usually was. So she answered in kind. But no more than a beat passed.

“Well, your pistol didn't really do the job, did it?” At the sudden dark look in Jack's eyes, which she knew could belie anything from mirth or murderous anger beneath the surface, she awarded herself a point and continued. “That shot didn't seem to be permanent or lasting...” Another pause for dramatic effect. A more murderous look from Jack. “At any rate, it's safe to assume we're not facing Barbossa again.”

“Quite right, Miss Swann.” Jack's dark eyes still seemed to reflect the sun's merciless rays, glinting. He was daring her to correct him.

Elizabeth opened her mouth. Too slowly. Jack saw her hesitation, reveled in it.

“That's Mrs. Turner, now, Captain.” Will stepped shoulder to shoulder with Elizabeth, laying two fingers on the bare skin of her collarbone.

“Oh, of course! Mrs. Turner, beg your pardon. I almost said Mrs. Norrington, and then I thought - well that sounds bloody terrible.”

Will's lip twitched. He seemed about to answer, but Elizabeth silenced him with a look.

“Captain - it's not my name that's the topic in question, if you can manage to follow a civilized conversation for that long.”

“Remind me, love, what was the question?”

“The captain. The captain of the Pearl. The one we're after.” Elizabeth's tone was light but the words were bitten off as they exited her lips. Jack reminded himself she could be dangerous...but couldn't resist delaying her satisfaction a bit longer. He feigned preparing to speak, inhaling and exhaling deeply, taking a few steps, lifting a hand to wave at the horizon.

“As a matter of fact, the Pearl - this other Pearl, not ours, which sank in a most unfortunate accident - you do remember that, don't you, Mrs. Turner? 'Course you do - is captained by someone truly merciless and cruel. Someone who would just as soon cut your throat as look at you, someone who demands an unreasonable degree of loyalty, some would say, from a crew. Someone who strikes abject terror into the hearts of every man who's had the misfortune to cross paths.”

“And so? Who is it?” Elizabeth demanded, her hands balled into fists emerging from her gray sleeves, and came to rest on the curve of her white-swathed hips. Her voice was raised to an impatient pitch, and Jack took another few steps back to approach her.

“Careful not to squawk when you're upset, love... the seagulls'll mistake you for one of their own in that dress.”

Her cheeks burned, but she stood her ground, her brows raised and her eyes beadily narrowed. “The captain, Captain.” She spoke each word slowly, as though talking to a nincompoop or a small child. “Who... is... it?”

Jack couldn't resist tormenting her for one moment more, and stepped closer, leaning in so close he could smell the scent of her soap and perfume.

“My dear Lizzy,” he said, lowering his voice to speak to her mock conspiratorially, well aware every ear on deck was cupped in their direction. “It's you.”

* * *

Elizabeth tore impatiently at the buttons at the back of her dress. She desperately needed to lie down, and she'd never be able to bend with all her stays. And the lady's maid she'd once had was gone to another household, as servants were not part of a blacksmith's family budget, not that she could have brought her on board even if she'd still employed her. Elizabeth itched to be free of the dress, of the house, of Port Royal... the saying “familiarity breeds contempt” had never been more fitting. She wanted fresh air. Salt water. Simple men's clothing, which was easily applied and comfortable. And she dare not allow herself to think it...

Jack. His attempts to humiliate her still rankled, and she struggled more furiously with the buttons, ready to tear them. When he'd explained that through some trick of Tia's, they were headed to another place where she was the captain of the Pearl... except it wasn't quite her, because this captain was a bloodthirsty monster, not that Jack gave that difference any more than a passing acknowledgment... she felt bewildered by the situation, but refused to consider heading back home. Everything she cared about was here, right on the ship. Everything she needed to see, hear, feel, to remind herself she was still alive...

A knock on the cabin door. “Elizabeth, it's me.” Will.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, and threw open the door. “Get me out of this damn dress.”

Will's eyes widened for a second before his mouth turned up into a handsome smile. “Happy to oblige, Mrs. Turner.”

She turned around with a sigh, giving Will her back to undress her, and told herself to breathe. She told herself she was still getting used to her new name, and that was why something clenched in her chest every time she heard it. Will deftly undid the buttons, and drew a knuckle gently down the skin he exposed, the intimate contact with the skin on her back making her breath catch. Changing one's name took some getting used to, didn't it? Even if it had been six months already? And when she felt his warm, firm lips press against the back of her shoulder, she took another deep breath, trying to relax... they were married, they were alone, they were on the Queen Elizabeth, they were headed for adventure... she had everything she wanted.

As Will's hands closed around her sides, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, and then opened them again. It didn't seem to matter whether her eyes were open or closed at the moment. She still saw, in her mind's eye, lushly rimmed dark eyes, swarthy skin, a beard black as coal, but that she remembered could be soft as a kitten's fur... just like the hair that dusted other parts of his body... No, not now. Her teeth were clenched. Not this time, this time I won't, I won't, I won't think of him. I can't, I can't, I have to stop... I have to stop thinking about Jack.

“Elizabeth, are you all right?” Will had turned her around and had cupped her face in his hands. His thumb brushed away a tear. Elizabeth reminded herself how hard it was to keep secrets from Will. He was very quick, very perceptive. But eager to please her, too, which was somehow a blessing and a curse...

“I'm fine, thank you... I was feeling a bit constricted. The stays. It's better now.” She looked at him, lowering her lashes and raising her lips to within an inch of his, a practice she'd perfected several times over, and one that never failed to incite a man to kiss her, and to forget whatever else he might be wondering, or plotting, at the moment... Her brown eyes met Will's flashing dark ones and he wasted no time in seizing her mouth for a thorough, yet tender, kiss.
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Ship in a Bottle