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Ship in a Bottle	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 4226 -:- 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.

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Chapter 20: Farewell Elizabeth

Elizabeth wet her lips and then flung open the door to Jack's cabin. She hadn't thought to knock, so absorbed was she in her thoughts.

And he was on his way out. So the moment her sweeping motion carried her body through the doorway, she nearly crashed into his chest.

She gasped as a result of her momentary surprise and her troubled mind, and pulled her eyes as quickly as possible up his body. His belt. His tunic. His coat. His collar. And then... his face. He was cocking one black eyebrow beneath his bandanna.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your near-collision, Mrs. Turner?” She was still attempting to catch her breath, and licked her lips again, trying to form words as she chastised herself for behaving like an idiot schoolgirl. He let the eyebrow fall and his mouth folded into a line. “Or is it Mary? Rather hard to say while you're dressed.”

She allowed the barb to sting her for a moment, only a moment, believing that he really could mistake them for one another, that it didn't matter who she really was... but then she recalled his words when she'd been in his bed, and she knew he was only trying to rile her. So he was still smarting from the previous night, too. Good. She cleared her throat.

“I've come to ask you about my trunk.”

His dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “It's nicely curved and delectable. Is that all?”

Her breath came out in a rush. “No... you know... I mean, my... baggage.”

A tilt of his head. He laid a hand on her shoulder and pulled her slightly sideways. His eyes glanced down, then up. “Rather light, even though you are a married woman now. I'd say you no longer need to concern yourself with it.”

Her lips pursed together in a frustrated knot. Of course Jack wouldn't make this easy... “I'll thank you to spare me your sordid humor, and listen to me for a moment.”

“I'm listening.”

“After we go to the island, I... Will and I will need our trunks sent back to Port Royal. Should we part ways from the Elizabeth.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why...” She squinted up at him in the fading evening light. “We'll have to leave our things behind when we... when we're with you and we take the Pearl.”

He glanced over her face for a moment, and then turned away and walked toward the table, where she saw he had a small leather satchel. He picked up one of the assorted items spread out between the candles and dropped it inside. “Mrs. Turner, you seem to be under two mistaken impressions. One, you will not be accompanying the raiding party to Isla de la Madre. You're staying right here. Two, you and dear Will are sailing back on the Elizabeth, not the Pearl.”

“What? You can't be serious.”

“Of course I can. All appearances to the contrary.”

“You mean - “ She marched over to where he still stood with his back to her. “Don't be absurd, Jack, of course I mean to go to the island with you.”

“You can mean all you like. But you're not going. Too risky.”

“Too risky? I'm on a pirate ship. I know how to handle risk.”

“Not this.”

She scoffed aloud, and glared daggers at his coat-clad back. “Will you turn around and face me? I'm tired of talking to your back.” He did so, then, and she saw fierce determination in his eyes.

“Nothing to talk about. You're staying here. End of story.”

“I am not.”

“Elizabeth...” She noted that he'd left off with 'Mrs. Turner' and was regarding her through heavily lidded eyes. “You can't come with us. It's too dangerous. Will's liable to be separated from us, and I can't concentrate on what I'm doing if I'm busy worrying about you, savvy?”

Her eyes narrowed at the implied insult. “You know bloody well I can take care of myself.”

He sighed, then, and turned back toward the table. He pushed at the satchel impatiently with his palm. “I have reason to believe that you, in particular, would be in danger.”

“And why is that?”

He exhaled impatiently. “Because the witch said something that scared the bejesus out of me, all right? She told me the Pearl would cost me the woman I -“ And he broke off, only realizing at the last second what he'd been about to say. He stared out the windows into the fading evening light, and she absorbed what he'd said, what he didn't say. He seemed frozen in place, and she took a step closer.

“Oh, Jack,” she sighed, suddenly overcome with emotion, lifting a hand to touch his shoulder. But he shrugged her off and turned eyes on her that were clear and hard.

“Well, I can't remember exactly what she said, and it was probably nonsense, anyway. But I'm not taking chances. You're staying.” He snatched the satchel off the table.

“I want to go with you.”

“We can't always have what we want, Lizzy.”

“So... so that's it, then?” She followed him as he strode across the room toward the bed, where he'd assembled a pile of scarves and rags, and he began stuffing them into the satchel haphazardly. “Once you leave this ship, we're parting ways? This is farewell?”

“And none too soon, I might add.”

Her mouth hung open as she searched for words, trying to think of an argument. None came. He finished packing most of the scarves and tugged on a red-and-white striped one, looping it around the leather belt he wore. “Don't fret, Lizzy, soon you'll have your blacksmith back to warm your bed.”

“Now you listen here, Jack Sparrow.” Her eyes flashed angrily and her hands clenched into fists. “You don't want me on your ship? Fine. But you can't stop me from going to that island. Will's out there, and I'm perfectly capable of watching my own back as well as some others', and you know it.”

He seemed to consider her words for a moment as he tied the scarf in a knot around his belt, not meeting her eyes. “Very well. Suit yourself. Your funeral.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” she said with the beginnings of a smile reaching her lips. “I'm rather tough to kill, if you'll recall.”

“Very true.” He raised his eyes to hers, then, and that was a mistake.

She looked back, trying not to smile, and he saw it, and tried not to smile, and failed. There was so much she wanted to say to him, to help him understand how complicated everything was, how she felt about him... but when she opened her mouth to speak, he laid a finger across her lips.

“Let's not say anything else, shall we? This is already an improvement over our last conversation. Let's leave off while we're doing well.” She lowered her eyelids and he removed his finger, dropping his hand to his side.

“Will you... will you kiss me good-bye?” she heard herself say, as she lifted her gaze from his lips to his eyes, which seemed to darken gradually, like storm clouds on the horizon.

“No,” he breathed. “We might have time for one last hurrah, love, but I think depriving ourselves of sleep would be most unwise.”

“Just a kiss. One single kiss. Please,” she added on a sigh.

“Oh, one more kiss from the 'dirty old pirate', is that what you want?”

She leaned her forehead on his shoulder in resignation, feeling the rough texture of the wool jacket against her skin. “Yes.”

“Close the damned door, then,” he said. She turned her head, and saw to her chagrin that the door to his cabin had been standing open the whole time, and anyone could have seen, or heard, or walked in at any time. “Didn't even know it was open, did you?” His voice held a note of mischief, and a note of satisfaction.

“No,” she said breathily, turning wide eyes from the open door back to him. He looked pleased, and she realized it was because he knew she was so distracted by being with him, talking with him, looking at him, that the minute details of life like opening and closing doors simply fell away.

The door stayed open.

He immediately bent his head and kissed her lips, drawing her lower lip between his, rubbing his mouth over hers, back and forth. Something snapped inside of her and she shot up on her tiptoes, lifting her head to be even with his, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back completely, desperately, wanting him to know and feel everything inside of her, painful and complicated as it was. She whimpered as she kissed him, fervently, and he let himself be kissed, not pulling her to him or deepening the kiss, but simply waiting for her to express with her mouth what she couldn't put into words.

And by the time she made herself stop, her cheeks were red and tears sat at the corners of her eyes, waiting to be squeezed out. She imagined what Jack saw as he slowly opened his eyes and looked back at her face: a woman who needed him, desperately, but was not yet willing to pay the price to keep him.

“Ahem, Cap'n?”

Both of them turned to see Gibbs standing in the doorway, and Elizabeth instantly dropped her hands from around Jack's neck and stared at her feet, taking a step back.

“Yes, what is it, mate?”

“We're within sight of the island, now. Thought ye'd like to know.”

“Ah... thank you.”

Elizabeth's lungs felt tight, and her cheeks burned. He'd seen... they'd been seen, now... somehow that made it more real, more concrete... more dangerous. More shameful. She was still looking at her boots when she heard Gibbs' voice again.

“Ye needn't be shy, lassie... after all, I knew ye when ye were a bit of a lass who loved to sing about pirates.”

Her head snapped up, and she saw Gibbs wink at her before turning to stride away. Her gaze whipped back to Jack, who opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she turned and ran for the door.

“Wait, Lizzy,” she heard him call after her. “I want to hear you sing another pirate song! Lizzy!”

But she ignored him and dashed from the cabin as fast as her legs could carry her. All she could think about was escape. It wasn't until she'd shut herself back inside her own cabin that she wondered, once the battle was done, if she'd ever see Captain Jack Sparrow again.
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Ship in a Bottle