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Midnight Ride	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 2747 -:- 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
- 1-Blazing Saddles
- 2-Pursuit
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 1
- 2
- 3
2. Pursuit

The song of the insects and frogs around her seemed to grow softer, or else the relentless beating of her heart was drowning out all other sounds, even Jack's slow breathing, even her own breathing, as she felt his warm, rough palm at her jaw, his thumb stroking a wisp of hair away from her face. He paused there, not moving closer, just holding himself above her, his nose just lightly touching hers, first on one side, on the other side. Her lips parted in response, and she closed her eyes.

Jack Sparrow...

He couldn't be real. He was the stuff of dreams that woke her in a fine sheen of sweat, ones that made her cheeks burn with shame and that weighed her down with guilt when Will would feel her stir and reach for her. She did not allow herself to think about him, ever, but her sleeping mind seemed to have other ideas.

So was she dreaming, then, to be in this copse of trees, in the dirt, with Jack himself all along her length, his weight resting gently, pleasantly upon her, making her want to soften and wrap her arms around his neck and...

“Elizabeth.”

“...mwhat? Yes?”

“I said, we can get up now. That is, if you still want to?”

She opened her eyes, and found Jack smirking at her, amusement making his obsidian eyes glitter. He never meant to kiss her. He was punishing her for even thinking of betraying him, she realized.

She promptly shoved him in the chest, and he fell off her with a grunt.

“No call to be rude,” Jack grumbled as she scooted forward and climbed to her feet.

“Thank you for your intervention at the tavern,” she said coolly, approaching the horse, who shoved its nose into Elizabeth's outstretched hand.

“That's all you've got to say? I risk my neck riding like hell, give up a very comfortable evening, together with an entire sack of shiners, I might add, and you're not even going to offer to repay me in kind?”

Elizabeth scoffed. “I do thank you sincerely, Captain - you are still a captain, aren't you? - and promise to have your coin repaid just as soon as my husband comes into port.”

The words seem to hang between them in the warm night air. There was a pause while she petted the horse's nose and ears, stroking them softly. She could feel Jack approaching behind her.

“So, you married him after all, did you?”

“Of course I did.”

“And you're what? Privateers?”

“Simple traders. Will didn't want to give up the sea life, and neither did I. He sold the shop and we invested in cargo. It's very lucrative.”

“That why you're stealing coin from horse breeders in taverns?”

She shot him a murderous look. “That, Captain Sparrow, was an accident.”

“Captain Sparrow again, is it?” He stepped up next to her, reached for her waist, and turned her toward him. “I only want one thing by way of repayment, Elizabeth. I want you to call me Jack, again, since I've saved your skin. How many times does that make, now? Three or four?”

“Two, in which it was not placed in peril by your actions in the first place,” she said through gritted teeth. “And your Christian name -“ she paused, giving him a scathing glance, “forgive the misnomer - is hardly a suitable form of address between a married lady and a strange gen - well, em, fellow.” Pirate.

“And where's this proper married lady planning on spending the night, eh?”

She turned away, putting his hands off her. “If we can return to town by another route, I'm sure there's an inn somewhere that will let me stay on the promise of payment tomorrow.”

“Not in Kingston,” Jack said with one corner of his moustache-rimmed mouth pulling up in a smile.

“Care to lend me some of that coin you spoke of? That would resolve it, as well.”

“Can't. It's gone.”

“Gone?”

“Well, not gone, but no longer in my possession. Lucita and Laurita have it, now.”

“Lu - who?”

“The doxies.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. “Come to think of it, I have heard their names...” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a forefinger. “Oh, yes - while I waited in the tavern last night, some soldiers were talking about them. Said something about being Frenchified, or scalded, or some such nonsense. The word 'flapdragon' mean anything to you? Whatever it is, they've got it.”

“No idea at all, love,” Jack lied, his eyes widening in relief. “But let's let bygones be bygones. The point is, I gave the coin to them to charm that young lad they had guarding that.” With a tilt of his head he indicated the horse.

Elizabeth turned her attention back to the animal, whose large, dark eyes showed almost no white, resulting in an earnest, friendly expression. “Quite lovely,” Elizabeth said, drawing her hand along the neck and flank. “What did you say he was?”

“She.”

Elizabeth glanced at Jack, and then peered briefly underneath the horse before returning her hand to petting the side. “Well, it's dark - and besides, he could have been a gelding.”

Jack seemed to shudder at her choice of words for a moment, before strolling closer. “She's a Paso Fino.”

“From her nose, I'd have guessed an Andalusian.”

Jack inclined his head. “Well - those were some of her ancestors, I believe. The Conquistadors cross-bred the Andalusian, the Jennet and some other... Barb, perhaps? to produce the Paso Fino. The 'fine walk.' They're breeding them in Cuba, now, and near San Juan, too.”

“Why - she's mixed?”

Jack looked offended. “In the first place, there's nothing wrong with being 'mixed,' as you said. Secondly, the Paso Fino's a hybrid breed unto its own, now. A Caribbean specialty.”

“I remember... just after my father and I arrived in Jamaica, I was brought along while he assessed the surrounding lands, and one morning, we reached this outcropping that looked out over all the fields, left abandoned when the Spanish fled... and there was a wild pack of them, running free. They moved almost as a single body. It was astonishing.”

“Yes. Animals - much like humans - when left to themselves, take to wild running and frantic breeding.” She saw him eye her with a teasing glint.

“How did you - how did you know what she was?” Elizabeth asked.

“The guard was a clue. Meant she's valuable. So either a racer, or a breeder.” Jack scratched the horse gently between her ears on top of her head, and she bucked her head in reply. “Couldn't tell if she were a stallion or a mare at the time, but now, I'd say likely a brood mare.”

“Hm,” Elizabeth remarked. “She runs awfully fast - and nicely, too - but they'll just breed her?”

Jack paused, lifted his head, looked over at Elizabeth. “Breeding's what she's for. She's probably quite good at it. What's wrong with that?”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort sharply before she caught the playfully narrowed corners of Jack's eyes and the pursed shape of his lips, no doubt to keep from laughing. He was teasing her again.

She reached out and lifted the long, dark mane, the bottom tip of which fell almost to the horse's knees. “They haven't been grooming her properly. Look at this. It's not been kept.” She brushed the horse's nose. “And her forelock's so long it's a wonder she can see.”

Jack reached out and replaced Elizabeth's probing fingers with his own. “For your information, the Paso's hair is left long because that's how it grows.” He glared at Elizabeth for another second before tossing a few locks of his own behind his shoulder. “It's perfectly natural.”

“For a valuable breed, she doesn't look very muscular,” Elizabeth observed, stroking the horse's shoulder with the pad of her forefinger.

Jack fixed her with yet another offended stare. “The Paso doesn't display a lot of showy muscles. She doesn't have to. It doesn't mean she's any less capable. She's got strong legs.”

“Well, you certainly seem to admire her,” Elizabeth said a bit sharply.

“And why shouldn't I? She's a fine horse,” Jack said softly, trailing his hand along the horse's flank. “Gentle to hand, but spirited in saddle.” He shot Elizabeth a mischievous glance that seemed to drop quickly. “Nice, rounded rump. Holds her tail up as she's supposed to.”

He had met her eyes again, and Elizabeth turned away from his inspection, refusing to allow him to assess either her spirit or her rump any further.

“Nice thing about Pasos,” he went on, “is their cooperative nature. She'll try anything her rider asks of her - provided she understands what's being asked.” Jack eyed Elizabeth again, slyly, and added softly, “Would you be so willing, I wonder?”

Elizabeth lifted her brows. “Are you implying I've no more sense than a horse?”

“We'll have to let her go, soon, you know. Can't parade her through town. I do wonder if she'll find her way back to her breeder... or join up with a wild pack of them, somewhere. If there are any left. Course, maybe she prefers her life as a brood mare. What does she know about the rest of what life has to offer?”

Elizabeth bristled at the innuendo, and abruptly snatched up the reins. “Don't talk about her that way.”

The horse's eyes seemed to widen at Elizabeth's brusque tone, and her eyes moved to Jack as he replied, “It's getting late. We'd best be heading back to the ship.”

“Back to the...” Elizabeth stopped for a moment, and the Paso whinnied softly. “Do you really think I'd stay on board with you? That's not fitting at all.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “You know, I do get tired of getting those murderous looks from you, when I'm only trying to help.”

“Oh, certainly. Help me into your - cabin, no doubt.” Elizabeth, no sooner having uttered the words, felt her cheeks heat. At least she hadn't said, 'help me into your bed,' which she'd been about to say. Nonetheless, she felt Jack's dark eyes upon her face, and perhaps the horse's, too. “What are you staring at,” she said to the animal, who flicked her ears forward and back in reply.

“Cabin or not, you'd be wise to accept my generous - but temporary - offer of hospitality, as another run-in with Dominic and crew might not turn out so well for you. Given that you are so short of funds, as you said.”

The horse snorted as if in agreement, and Elizabeth sighed. He was probably right. This once, she'd have to swallow her pride and do as Jack suggested. “All right, I'll go with you to the ship,” she mumbled, and scratched the side of the horse's face just under her eyes. “I guess we'll say goodbye, then, soon.” A sudden thought came to her. “Jack, we should name her.”

“The ship's already got a name.”

“Not the ship, the horse!”

“Oh.” Jack strode closer, drawing up behind Elizabeth. He slid one arm around her waist, and pulled her gently against him. “A nice Spanish name, perhaps?”

Elizabeth caught her breath, but tried to ignore Jack's proximity. It made her thinking foggy. “Er, how about...”

“...Lucita?”

“Certainly not,” Elizabeth snapped, and Jack chuckled against her hair. She lifted the horse's long forelock and ran her thumb over a spot on the horse's brow. “She's got a tiny white mark, just here. It almost looks like a star.”

“Estrella,” Jack whispered. “There, now, she's our guiding star.” He reached out and covered Elizabeth's hand with his own, running his fingertips along the horse's nose. “All right, love, we best be going.”

“And don't call me 'love.”

“I was talking to the horse.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and let it out, and freed herself from the far-too-comfortable confines of Jack's arms. “Very well. Let's go, then.”

Jack checked the road to make sure it was clear, and then he led the newly dubbed Estrella out, and Elizabeth followed.

“We can ride this way for a bit, there's a path through the hills that curves back around toward town. This isn't a sidesaddle, so, er...” Jack eyed Elizabeth slyly. “Do you prefer riding in front, or behind?”

“I'll ride. You may walk,” she said imperiously, slipping a foot into the stirrup and mounting gracefully.

Jack scoffed. “What, so you can leave me behind and warn the gentlemen in red that I'm coming along? Want that reward after all, do you?”

Elizabeth set her jaw and hoped she wasn't reddening, not that it would be easily seen in the darkness. The thought had occurred to her. Jack soon swung up in back of her, and slung an arm lazily about her belly.

“Hmm,” he said into her hair as he settled, fully, against her. “Think I'm going to enjoy this.”

Elizabeth tried her best to ignore him, nudging Estrella into a leisurely corto and they ambled down the dark road.

She was very tired, she realized after a bit. The repetitive, gentle motion of the horse was soothing. It had been years since she'd ridden, since before she and Will were married. Before their adventures with Jack, even. She almost considered riding a part of her childhood. She didn't realized she was leaning her head back on Jack's shoulder until he softly drawled, “Shall I take the reins for a bit?”

She was too sleepy to argue, and ceded the reins with an mmmph before turning her face against his shirt. Once she did, however, she was even more aware of him; the subtle musk of his skin, the crisp hairs emerging from his open collar that tickled her cheek, the solid feel of him along her back and legs. And something else, something quite firm, pressing against the curve of her derriere.

Her eyes flew open. With every step he rocked against her, gently, smoothly. Deliciously... no. She forced her eyes closed and feigned sleep as she tried to quell a rising panic. Don't think about how he feels. Don't think about how it would feel if he... if they... No.

It would never be. Those days were long past. She loved her husband. There might have been a time, long ago, when she'd have considered something so ridiculously foolish as running off with Jack Sparrow to begin some torrid tête-à-tête and unleash all of her juvenile passions. But she was a different woman now. Will Turner was a good man, and furthermore, he was her man. Jack Sparrow never belonged to anybody but himself.

She found herself wondering how she got herself into these scrapes. Several hours ago she'd been poor and hungry, then in danger of being beaten and ravaged, then shot at, and now... what dangers lay ahead of her tonight? She tried to collect her thoughts as Jack's warmth, Jack's smell, Jack's voice seemed to permeate the very fibers of her being. She opened her eyes to see how she was enfolded in his arms as they rode. Protectively. If he hadn't come along when he had... well.

Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

She shifted in the hopes of separating their bodies, only to elicit a muted groan from Jack's throat, his arm tightening around her.

“Stop wiggling like that, for pity's sake,” he whispered, his lips soft and pliant against her forehead. “Can't stand it.”

The painfully whispered words had the effect of heightening every sense she possessed, and she bit her lip to suppress a soft moan of her own. Knowing that he wanted her only made it worse... she turned her head away from the scent of his skin and the heat of it, taking a deep breath.

Somehow he guessed she wasn't asleep. In the next instant, Jack's eyes found hers and everything seemed to go completely still. She could count his eyelashes, she thought, watching as they fluttered closed and he leaned in. He was going to kiss her. Yes, please, she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes, too. I'm dying to kiss you again... and though she felt shame, she swallowed it and wet her lips in anticipation.

The slightest touch of his lips to hers. A gentle brush, back and forth. No more. Her lips parted. He caught her lower lip between his, lifted it, released it. A tease. A noise of frustration escaped her throat, and she opened her eyes when she heard it. She hadn't even realized that the utter stillness was because they'd stopped moving.

He was smirking. “Well, Mrs. Turner, it seems we've reached a crossroads. Do we walk together from here to the ship, or... shall we go into those trees and bed down there for the night?”

He wanted to mock her. Fine. She sat bolt upright and would have thrown herself off of the horse had Jack not jumped down beforehand. He reached for her waist to help her, and she allowed him to lift her down, telling herself not to notice the hot strength of his hands at her sides... and that he wasn't letting go.

He must have seen the trepidation in her expression, for he lifted a hand to cup her jaw, pinching her chin firmly and looking down into her face. “Scared? The only difference I can think of between the two - the trees and the ship, I mean - is that out here there's no one to hear you scream... and there, no one will care.”

She bristled in spite of the heat his words stirred deep inside of her. “And just what sort of screaming do you anticipate, Capt - mmh!” Her retort ended in a low whimper as he yanked her toward him and covered her mouth with his.

No teasing this time. He drove her lips apart in mere seconds, and staked his claim to her with almost punishing force, tasting every recess of her mouth, holding her head tilted to the side so that he could slant his mouth over hers again and again. And so help her, she was kissing him back.

Her heartbeat doubled its tempo as she found herself wrapping her hands around his neck, feeling the ties of his faded bandanna, sinking into his long, ropy hair. It was more exciting than the theft, than sailing, then the chase itself. Why did Will's kisses never feel like this?

Will. Thinking about him should have been enough to cool her ardor. It wasn't.

Jack pulled away suddenly, leaving her to blink open her eyes in a daze as he released her, turning his back. “On second thought,” he was saying in a roughened, lowered voice, “I don't fancy a roll in the dirt tonight. We're returning to the ship.”

A roll in the dirt. Her cheeks burned with shame. And well they should have, too. She searched for a retort. “I hardly think you'll come out of it any dirtier than you already are.”

He gave a bitter chuckle and ignored her, leading Estrella a few feet ahead to the crossroads. Elizabeth watched silently as Jack began to loosen the fastenings of the saddle.

Despite have made all his remarks about the suitability and usefulness of the brood mare, he was releasing all the buckles and straps, and tossing the saddle into the underbrush. “Go on, now,” he said to Estrella. “Go find your brothers and sisters, eh?”

The horse looked at him. Rather sadly, it seemed to Elizabeth.

“Go on.” Jack drew back his hand and slapped Estrella, firmly, on the rump. She started, but did not move. He lifted his arm again, and hit her harder. The smack echoed in the quiet night. “Go on!” he called.

The horse whinnied argumentatively, but began to make her way down the road. Jack and Elizabeth watched as she walked away in her smooth, even gait.

“Did you have to strike her so hard?” Elizabeth said to him with a note of lament.

“Makes her think twice about sticking around. Or coming back,” he said, his face seemingly expressionless in the moonlight. He turned the opposite way. “Let's go. I know a back route to the harbor.”

Without waiting for her, he ambled away. She turned and stared after him, wondering whether she ought to follow. Definitely not, she concluded, but she had little choice in the matter. After a moment, she began to walk, quickly enough to catch up to him. Overhead, she noticed, several stars burned brightly in the dark, quiet night.
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Midnight Ride