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The Scythe's Song	By : hallowedmaiden Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 2844 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own POTC or the characters and I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
The tumbler of scotch was balanced on the edge of the bar counter, each pound of a fist nudging it closer to tipping. It was dirty, had smudges on it, the kind of glass that sits in a cupboard collecting dust and grime until one day the bartender finds it and doesn't give enough of a fuck about cleanliness to not use it. As it was it only had a small amount of scotch in it...sending it over the counter wouldn't waste much...just destroy a disgusting tumbler and make the black linoleum floor mildly hazardous.
Not that scotch was worth preserving...it would take eight hours and a lot of mixing to find something in the bar worth preserving, and that including the people. People like the Cartel gesu yarō, or the young drunk blonde to the right who was trying to score a little druggie shoot up and fuck, and even the bartender, one of those men who had drank everything in the damn bar at one point or another because the haze of alcohol was better than living in this piece of shit reality. Maybe the blonde, druggie, and bartender could engage in a threesome and take each other out.
Or he could do it.
No.
More important things to worry about.
The Cartel member, to be specific.
He had been watching him sip on the scotch and make eyes at the blonde for twenty minutes. Without a doubt, the druggie had more of a chance. Not that Julio was making much effort anyway, to do really anything come to think of it. Everything he did was lethargic like he was on the verge of sleep.
It took a certain kind of patience to observe someone, to watch them with the attention to detail necessary to learn their entire scope of behavior from them sitting at a bar drinking scotch.
He was a very patient man.
The lack of patience only ever results in mistakes, mistakes that he couldn't afford to make.
Patience lets you learn that Julio would only last so long under duress with the way he kept glancing around the bar like he was on the run, lets you learn that Julio is easily intimidated, probably used to being left out...Julio would tell him anything he wanted to know with just the right amount of pressure.
And Julio wouldn't be missed.
Not by a bullet, and not by people.
Just like the druggie, the blonde, and the bartender.
And the person responsible for stealing the evidence.
Or persons.
And let every deity known have no mercy on Liz because he wouldn't.
The bar stool teetered dangerously when Julio rose, downing the rest of the scotch and shoving the tumbler back on the counter so hard it slid to the other side, nearly falling off again. The bartender gave him a dirty look.
His gaze followed Julio from the bar to the door, never leaving him, directing a quiet "let's go" at the other two when the door opened to drizzling rain outside, and then he carved his own path through the crowd, slipping out in time to see the man's back getting farther away down the sidewalk.
"The alley," was all he said, inclining his head to the bright neon sign about 100 feet away, and the side street just a stretch farther from it. Almost holding his breath, he barely let his shoes touch the ground...closer...just a little closer...close enough to see Julio reach in his back pocket for his cigarettes, close enough to watch them drop to the wet concrete when he shoved the man out of sight, heard his sucked in gasp of surprise, felt his unfortunate attempt to struggle, cut off almost before it began by a knife pressed against his throat and a strong hand clamped over his mouth.
The struggling ceased immediately.
Easy to intimidate indeed.
"You scream, you try to escape, I'll kill you violently. You cooperate, I give you a painless death."
It was a very humbling moment, watching a man make that choice, between two different kinds of death, watching a man accept that he was going to die. Some men get angry, didn't want to die yet, some men feel peaceful, it would finally be over, and some...some men become happy, like they were dying for something.
A person can't die for something.
Not enough people understood that.
Once you are dead, anything that mattered in life is gone. Reasons, ideas, thoughts, intentions, agendas...all of it, like it had never existed.
Death is death, the most meaningless and meaningful thing life has to offer.
People in organized crime also understood the beauty of having a choice. Just like they looked death in the eye knowing it was what they had signed up for.
"It also goes without saying that if you don't tell me what I want to know…"
He let the threat go unspoken.
Then removed his hand from Julio's mouth.
"What's your name?"
"Rafael."
...not Julio. He would have gotten the laugh of his life had it actually been Julio.
"Rafael...so, what brings the Cartel to London?"
"What brings the Yakuza to London?"
Maybe not so submissive after all.
"Same thing, I'm guessing. A problem."
Nothing else needed to be said about that.
"We will keep this short. Where is the evidence?"
Didn't really expect him to know, but even his ignorance could tell him something.
"You know as much as I do. Something is happening in Bath, algo importante."
"That's only about a two-hour drive from here," Tsubasa said.
"Indeed. Are you at least trusted enough to know how and why it was stolen, Rafael?"
The man's eyes jerked between the three of them as if weighing his options for the last time. Then he realized he had no options, but apparently, the knife digging into his throat had failed to cement that idea in well enough.
"My boss propositioned a woman to retrieve it. She had something she wanted, we had something we wanted. There was an exchange of services."
"And the woman's name?"
"Japanese. Suzuki. But she isn't the one responsible."
This was already getting more complicated than it needed to be.
"Then who is?"
"She...hired someone else to complete the job. A ladrón profesional. His name is Jack Sparrow. I know nothing else about him."
He had heard the name before, but couldn't recall where or when.
"Jack Sparrow...and he is the only one?"
"Si, el trabaja solo. Dangerous, apparently."
That much he had already figured out. It takes a special kind of person to orchestrate the chaos right in the middle of London that he had watched on the television and walk away without anyone knowing anything.
"And what exactly did Suzuki want back?"
"She has a special interest in Gabriella Magana, the daughter of one of the cárters superiores. The father was...causing a problem, so my boss decided to...reintroduce him to the chain of command. Suzuki was asked to convince my boss to return her, and he saw an opportunity for mutual benefit."
"So. Suzuki is asked to get the evidence for the girl, and then hires a third party to do it instead. Now the evidence is Kaze ni, in the wind, and something important is happening in Bath."
"Si."
One last look into his eyes, a few more seconds of observation...he had all the information he was going to get.
"Good. Koji?"
A black cloth bag over his head, a 180 turn to face the brick wall, and a clean bullet in the back of his head.
Death is also very simple when allowed to be.
"Get rid of him."
Things were moving too quickly.
A professional thief...where had he heard that name…in Japanese, at least among the Yakuza, thieves were sometimes called shadoutorikusutā, or shadow tricksters. Comparable to magicians, they were able to embed themselves with so many false identities and decorate their history with enough smoke and mirrors to make them hardly even exist.
There was a reason that he hadn't found Liz yet.
Sparrow was working alone...he had no partners...henchman or something similar, maybe, but friends...that seemed out of the question. The man was too good to have distractions.
"Have you heard of this man before?"
He glanced over to find Koji regarding him. He wouldn't quite call Koji a henchman, he was too smart for that, but he lacked the experience.
"...No, and that worries me. I know nothing about him."
Didn't know where he stood in this game, how he might retaliate to pressure, how deeply he was involved…
Thieves, much like assassins, were very good at covering their tracks, regardless of who knew they were involved. Just because he had the man's name didn't mean he had any kind of advantage over him. At least not yet.
And Suzuki.
Long black hair, always wore suits and specialized in killing suits.
He'd met her once or twice.
As for the evidence, there was a high possibility that any of the pieces on this chessboard had it...her, Sparrow, the Cartel…
A chessboard that had too much power laying on it. The Cartel, not dismissable, Suzuki, a master hitwoman, Jack Sparrow, whom he did not know the full scope of yet, and himself.
The threads and connections between the rest of them could make everything before tomorrow either succeed or fail.
But Suzuki was the heart of all of it, she set up the deal, hired Sparrow...and she would not be easy to find…
"So, are we making a trip to Bath?"
Had to…
"That seems to be our...only option at the moment. We need more information."
"And the woman?" Koji asked, staring out the rain-streaked window of their car.
It was too risky to perform a more focused find and retrieve. She was trained to watch her surroundings.
"Stake the city out. I want one of you in each highly populated area. We need to make a web, and see if we can catch her in it."
"If we find her?"
"Do not let yourselves be seen, but do not lose sight of her."
They had arrived at Casamia just as the clock had struck 9:50.
"Hey, you picked the food last time. My turn."
Jack watched her over the top of his menu for a moment before laying it down and raising his eyebrow at her. "As my lady wishes."
She mouthed an 'oh my god' while fighting a smile and shaking her head, scanning the menu for something that looked appetizing.
"Not really a lady."
"Mmm, ladies are boring anyway. Corsets and haughty attitudes...oh, wait…"
Her eyes stopped at the pasta section, raising to regard him with a pointed look.
"That was before I met you."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you still had a haughty attitude even after you met me."
The menu was forgotten for the moment. He'd successfully wound her up.
"How so?"
He made a show of counting on his fingers. "Well, let's see. You refused to be in my cabin when I propositioned you-"
'It should be a dress or nothing, and I happen to have no dress in my cabin.'
"-I was trying to find Will-"
"-haughty. You blatantly acted like I was beneath you when I asked you to marry me-"
"-you were joking-"
"-you challenged me to a swordfight when I refused to give you the letters of Marque-"
"-what else was I supposed to do-"
"-you traded me to Beckett for Will-"
"-it was the logical thing to do-"
"-and all of this is really just boiling down to pure attitude in general. You had attitude on the island, you had attitude on the Pearl, you had attitude in Shipwreck Cove, pretty much always, except when you were asking me questions or-"
"-and you love me for it," she finished in a tone of finality.
"Love you for the conclusion to that sentence, or your attitude?"
"...Both, I think."
His eyes were glittering.
"Well, unfortunately, you're wrong. I don't need a reason to love you, I just do. But I can give you all of the reasons why I adore you...we'll be here all night and never get around to eating, but I can do it."
She was momentarily poleaxed, wondering why dinner always seemed to end up with him making her heart swell to the point where it threatened to combust.
"And I would have won that swordfight, by the way, your training from Will being utterly irrelevant, especially since the other interpretation of that sentence involved no training from Will, and would have resulted in me training you...that counts as winning right?"
The fact that he did eventually train her in that discipline notwithstanding, except the training involved her mouth more than her hand, and the 'training' was more just very loose attempted guidance, 'attempted' here meaning that his voice had been temporarily diminished.
"I definitely meant the bladed kind when I said sword-"
"-not that Will had anything worth being called a sword-"
"How would you know?"
His face was growing more and more pleased with himself by the second.
"I don't, I just enjoy dragging him whenever possible. He was a hero type, they are made to be bullied just a little bit."
"And you just had a dirty mind. Persuade me indeed."
"Had? Think you need to change your tense. Besides, are you suggesting you don't? Why don't we talk about which one of us took advantage of modern technology to sext the other just to torture them on a plane."
"And why don't we talk about which one of us gave the other a taste in a parking garage and then left them frustrated."
"Just going to slide in the fact that someone gave me a striptease to Nine Inch Nails-"
"-you loved that."
"Of course I did."
Not ready to stop their teasing just yet…
"You did eventually train me…"
He sat back in his chair, looking like he was weighing options. "Now to what are you referring to?"
"Handling a sword."
"Yes, yes, I did teach you some sword fighting techniques, great fun."
Damnable man, now ignoring her more lewd meanings on purpose…
"Mmm...you taught me how every inch of the sword is important...the hilt, the length of the blade, and the way you hold it."
"I'm surprised you picked up on all of it as well as you did. Holding a sword with your mouth is quite the challenge."
"Maybe I just have a natural talent for holding swords in my mouth."
"How do you know that? You've only ever had experience with one."
"Are you suggesting I should expand?"
"Never."
Then a genuine smile spread across his face. "Did you pick out something to eat yet? You've had five minutes to look now."
"I did, but I feel like this is an inappropriate setting for it."
His eyes dropped to the table, the smile turning into a smirk astonishingly fast. "There is a tablecloth…goes down to the floor, would hide you pretty easily."
"...That's all fine and good, but that doesn't help you."
"Help me? What would I need help with?"
"The tablecloth doesn't have a mute button."
Checkmate.
"And I'm not boring," she added, trying to hold in laughter.
He finally rolled his eyes. "I would never accuse you of that."
It sparked a memory, one that she remembered very fondly.
"The difference here being that you're serious, unlike when I said I would never accuse you of being arrogant."
Then his eyes went to the ceiling while his lips puckered in annoyance when he realized what she was referring to. "I was just showing off."
"...showing off. Right. That's why you had to refer to your technique as perfect about eight different times, and literally, choose the highest rock to-"
"-No, I chose the highest rock because it's fun."
"Regardless, showing off is the same thing as arrogance. And you will never convince me that it was necessary to perform a dive like that to demonstrate just before teaching me how to do it."
"...It really wasn't that high…"
"Oh come off it, it was at least 25 meters."
"The world record is 60-"
"-Now, maybe-"
"-Come to think of it, I should take a stab at topping the record one of these days. I'm sure I could beat it."
She glared across the table at him, considering all of the ways that she could explain arrogance to him again.
"Confidence, not arrogance. And I think I was a good teacher. I didn't make you dive off of it, did I?"
"...No, I suppose not."
It had been 1895, in Thailand. She had been watching Jack dive into various bodies of water for nearly 150 years, and it had been about time for her to learn. So, she had asked him to teach her.
The tablecloth tickled her hand as she slid it across the table to grasp his, stroking her thumb over his skin. "You are a good teacher."
He watched their hands for a moment, a distracted look in his eyes, and then glanced up at her again. "What makes you say that?"
Anyone else and she would have accused them of fishing for compliments, but she knew Jack genuinely didn't know, and it made her feel a little frustrated...not with him, but with everything that had happened in his life that made him uncomfortable with acknowledging his own skills...at least when they involved other people. He was incredibly good at being comforting, but she was positive that he had no idea, he really was a good teacher, and so far he was an exemplary...boyfriend...she barely held back the giggle at referring to him using that word.
"Well, for starters, you have an incredible level of patience. No matter how many questions I have, you always answer all of them, and no matter how many times I mess up, you're always willing to explain again. And you explain things very succinctly...and you can always find a different angle to approach something if I'm not getting it."
She watched him take it in, everything she said, watched his face settle on mild confusion.
"...Why would anyone not do all of that? Especially when it is the love of your life...if I wasn't patient, if I didn't answer your questions, or explain well, or...it would make you angry, you wouldn't learn anything, and it would be just a giant waste of time…and I just really couldn't stomach being an asshole to you…"
The menu appeared to suddenly become fascinating to him, but she could tell that he wasn't even looking at it, could tell that he had retreated into his mind, could even tell what he was thinking about...the hotel.
Dammit.
"Hey, I appreciate it, for what it's worth. I have no idea how I would have learned how to shoot as well as I can, or how to clean a gun, or how to repair a ship, or how to sail a ship, or how to dive, you even taught me how to swim better. You taught me a lot."
For a second, she thought that he was going to try and say that some of the credit went to her…
"...Thank you, love."
Confusion was coloring her face now.
"Thank you? For what?"
His hand clasped hers a little tighter. "Just...just for loving me, I guess...for taking some of the darkness," he paused to make a gesture at his head, "in here away."
She didn't know what to say to that...thankfully, Christian arrived at their table just in time.
"Ah, I see that you haven't gotten rid of him yet."
"There isn't a strong enough force in this world. And it is usually me that he has to put up with, not the other way around."
"Well, regardless of who has to put up with who, I wish the two of you many years of happiness. Now, have you decided on something to eat?"
"I have...I don't know about him. The lemon salmon sounds lovely."
"Salmon, excellent choice. And don't make the lady wait all night, Jack."
Jack slapped his menu shut and handed it over. "I'll have the salmon too then."
Once Christian walked away with their order, Jack turned to her again, another sparkle in his eyes. "I have to put up with you?"
"Well, yes, I mean...my crazy sexual appetite, my proclivity for taking you to cold places, I constantly push your buttons-"
"-Hang on, your crazy sexual appetite? Darling, have you met me? Or did you momentarily forget who your significant other was?"
"Oh, I must have momentarily daydreamed that I was actually dating a reincarnated James Norrington. His name is on your credit card."
He shuddered and pulled a face. "Can you imagine being Mrs. James Norrington? And I enjoy it when you push my buttons."
"But not the cold places? And it wouldn't have been all that bad..."
"Maybe not for anyone else, but you would have died of boredom. And I can put up with anywhere as long as you're with me, love. But no, warm will always be better than cold. The only time that isn't true is when you have been sitting in a hot tub for a bit too long. Nothing better than jumping into a cool swimming pool."
"Nothing better than pushing you into a cool swimming pool."
A half-hour later a waiter brought out a tray with their salmon dishes, steaming hot and smelling beautiful.
"Can I get anything else for the two of you?"
"No, we're fine, thank you," they both responded at the same time, digging into their fish as he walked away.
"So, Halloween is coming up. Think we should dress up?"
He finished chewing and swallowed before fixing her with a suspicious stare. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
"I'm not always scheming you know," she said with a dramatic eye roll.
"You are when it comes to me."
In truth, she did have a few costumes in mind.
"Fine, I may have had a thought. Since you basically are him in human form already, and we could fashion together his outfit without too much trouble, you could dress up as Loki."
"Loki...like Avengers Loki? Tom Hiddleston Loki?"
She nodded, picturing Jack in the black and green leather suit. Sexy. But…
"You do realize that I would have to shave for that? Not sure you could handle it...not sure I could handle it. Do you know how long it's has been since I was cleanly shaven?"
"I've never seen you that way, so either it was before I met you, or at some point when we were not together. I'm sure I could put up with it...unless something happens to you when you shave...do you get covered in scales or something?"
That got a laugh out of him. "Scales...no, I don't get covered in scales...I just don't look...I just look different."
"You looked different when you combed your hair out-remember how long that took-and when the bandana came off. I got used to it."
"Took forever. And the hair and bandana don't take away as much as my facial hair, trust me. I would have to make myself a little paler too. You would be dating a ghost compared to what I am now."
"Well, I think you could pull it off. You in leather...or you could also just wear the suit he had in the first movie, with that green scarf thing."
Now she really was curious to see him cleanly shaven.
"Why exactly do you think I am like him?"
And now he really was fishing for compliments. She was happy to oblige.
"You are very smart, you frequently pull pranks on everyone that you can, you enjoy mischief a little too much, yet you have a lot of layers under the surface."
"Pranks...that reminds me, I should start doing that again."
When they had first started using showers, she had discovered how hilarious it was to turn the cold water on while Jack was in there. He didn't find it all that funny, but it had her in tears the first couple of times. And Jack rather enjoyed pretending that there was a disaster and then laughing hysterically at her panic.
"I mean...just not on me, right?"
"No, no, especially on you. Don't worry, I'll allow you to prank me back."
"Oh, you'll allow me? Well, now that I have your permission..."
They both took the last bite of their salmon just as Christian reappeared.
"Was everything to your liking?"
"Excellent as always, Christian."
They stepped into the cool September air, listening to the wind whistle around them.
"Keep in mind," she teased, "any pranking you do on me will only give me more fuel to get you back worse."
His only response was to suddenly stop and tug her into his arms, pressing his mouth to his before she even knew what he was about. Her body melted into his kiss, his hands on her back to push her into him.
She didn't care about the chilly air or the fact that they were standing on a busy sidewalk, or the case, or any of the problems that were waiting just on the outside of her safe little bubble. All she cared about was Jack and their future together.
When he finally broke away, he was grinning at her. "I'm counting on it, love."
Reaching up to play with a chunk of black hair that had been pushed into his face by the wind, she smiled back at him. "So, what should we do while in Lima?"
"Oh, I don't know," he paused to grasp her hand, "we could do some sailing, hiking, swimming, whatever you want to do."
"Remember, whatever I want to do has turned into some pretty dangerous adventures. For example, the time when-"
"-we...well, for lack of a better word, broke into Philae? It was fun though. Dangerous, but fun."
1913. They had been in Egypt for a month without actually doing anything to speak of. She had been bored. A bit too bored. Cue a suggestion that she had known Jack would find exciting. Then cue them finagling a guide to get them out close enough to the temple. Once they had arrived, it had been nearly impossible to contain her enthusiasm. "Think we could just set up shop in here and stay?" she remembered Jack asking. "Oh, sure. No one will notice. I mean, this is Egypt. They'll think the voices inside are just undead mummies."
Then his comment about the sand getting everywhere…
"I'm just saying, giving me free reign to come up with more dangerous ideas might be ill-advised."
"Mmm," he sidestepped to press into her as they walked, putting his mouth right next to her ear, "but I like you when you're a little dangerous."
Finally, they reached the truck, and he kissed her again before opening the door for her.
As she climbed up, something connected with lightly with her bum, making her yelp and twist around to find Jack grinning again. "What?" he asked, unable to act innocent.
"You're insufferable."
"You love me though."
She really did hate stop lights, especially when they took as long as this one.
"Today," she whined, leaning back against the seat in annoyance. They were only about 15 minutes from home, and she wanted a shower, and Jack, perhaps at the same time.
"Patience, darling."
"It's been red for five minutes."
He turned to smirk at her, turning it into a smile at her fluster.
Scroll, scroll...nothing interesting on her phone...nothing in the news, nothing anywhere...she could hear Jack whistling...annoying...cute and annoying...something changed in her periphery, and she looked up to a green light, but the truck wasn't moving. "Jack, the light's green-"
Her blood chilled.
The orange streetlight was reflected in his eyes as it stood tall on the other side of the intersection.
He wasn't whistling anymore. He wasn't looking at the light.
He was looking straight ahead at the black sedan partially hidden by shadow in the parking lot across the street.
The clock on the dash went from 11:15 to 11:16, the light turned red again...the sound of the truck idling was so loud…
...and everything else was so quiet.
Not another person in sight, not a bird in the sky, not cars in the distance, nothing.
And he was still looking there, at the sedan…
"Is that-" she finally managed to say when she pushed the trapped oxygen from her lungs, but Jack cut her off and stepped on the gas pedal at the same time.
"-Yeah."
Don't look at the car. Look straight ahead, act normal so they don't suspect anything, turn some music on...she reached out to spin the volume dial and let the radio play, not paying enough attention to identifying the song, the roaring in her ears too loud anyway.
Every muscle in her body was hitched, suspended on high alert, she measured the breaths that she took, focused on the beating of her heart, listened for something, anything behind them that…
...no, they hadn't been seen…
When they finally pulled into the driveway of his house, when he pushed the garage door opener and pulled in to park...when he turned the key and let the reverberation of the engine bounce off of the concrete walls, she finally allowed herself to relax.
"Jesus Christ," she breathed, inhaling and exhaling like she had been deprived of breathing for too long.
"They didn't see us...they didn't...fuck…"
His hands were white where they gripped the steering wheel still, his mouth set in a hard line.
Relax, except now the panic was setting in, why were they here...what were they doing here...needed to get out of the truck...needed to run...didn't even register opening the door and climbing out...barely registered the dizzy feeling...the hot stain on her cheeks...there was a pain in her head…
...heard a noise somewhere behind her...couldn't breathe...couldn't think…
Her eyes stung when she clamped them shut, a gasp jumping out of her mouth when something warm wrapped around her...arms…
Get away, get away, but they were too strong, held her fast...a voice floated into her ears, saying her name...the dim light of the garage flew back into her vision when she opened her eyes to find Jack standing in front of her, his hands cradling her face.
The ground underneath her feet felt hard again, she could smell the remnants of exhaust from the truck, the world evened out...breathe love, breathe Jack was saying, and then he was pulling her to him, nestling her head into his neck, stroking her hair.
Tears were forced out of her eyes as she calmed down, wiped away as she shook her head back and forth across his shirt in a swaying motion. "Are you sure that was them?" she whispered, her voice scratchy.
"I saw the driver. It's them."
She clutched Jack harder, feeling like everything was being reversed, all of their plans, like they had been running towards a future and had just been shoved back to the start...didn't even realize that she had stopped breathing again until she heard Jack…"You're safe, we're safe here, darling."
"I'm...just so frustrated."
"They didn't see us...come on, let's go inside."
Despite Jack leading her, she walked as though there were lead weights attached to her feet, like she didn't have the strength to pick them up and put them down anymore…
Past the kitchen, into the hallway...into the bedroom…
She never had panic attacks...could feel the anger at herself coursing through her sapping whatever energy she had left.
In the bathroom now, the door making a soft clicking noise as it closed.
But she just stood there, in the middle of the room, not even caring enough to take her own clothes off.
Why was she so fucking tired?
"Can't shower with clothes on, Lizzie," Jack said over his shoulder as he pulled two towels out of the tall cupboard.
She shrugged, twitching her head back and forth in an attempt to say a hundred things, and heard his sigh and a mumbled affectionate "making me do all the work".
"Arms up," he said as he slid his hands under her t-shirt, pulling it up and over her head, one hand going behind her to unhook her bra, throwing it to the floor, then pushing her jeans and knickers down her hips at the same time.
Slowly, some cognizance flowed back to her as he stripped and walked over to turn the shower on. Willing movement into her legs, she followed him, slipping her arms around him and nuzzling her face into his back, whispering an "I love you"...it was the only thing that made her feel safe at the moment, knowing that he was still here with her.
She was stronger than this, felt ridiculous...but she also found comfort in being able to be ridiculous around Jack without him seeing it as a flaw. He loved all of her, no matter what state she was in, felt it in the way he pulled her against his body as the warm water cascaded over them, felt it in the way he gently stroked her back, in the way he kissed her head…
"We're fine, we don't have the evidence anymore, they don't know where we are, don't know about us-"
"What if someone talks, what if-"
"-then we'll deal with it. Nothing can conquer us, darling, you know that. Me and you, we're like Shipwreck Cove...impenetrable."
She finally smiled, felt the tension leave, heaved a great sigh and leaned further into him. "Aye, Captain."
"There's my Lizzie."
But she could tell that he was worried too, in the small moments where his touch was distracted, faltering...he just hid it better than she did.
They would be okay...they would be okay.
"I'm just...so afraid of losing you when I just got you back…"
"You're not going to lose me, Elizabeth Swann. I swear on my life and my sometimes still black heart that you are not going to lose me."
She looked up from his chest into his face to find him staring down at her, a strange sort of fire burning in his eyes, not like the poisonous orange and green from the intersection...just a determination…
"You know we can't make promises like that-"
"-that wasn't a promise, that's just a fact. And I can make whatever promise I want."
Willing to change the subject, she remembered another promise that he had made.
"Speaking of promises, when do you suppose we are going to use that lovely tub of yours?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "Tomorrow night, I promise. We'll put some candles on, some music, and tell pirate stories all night."
"Mmm, sounds lovely."
The bed had never looked so inviting as she toweled herself off, stealing appreciative glances at Jack while he did the same thing.
"Remember that time when we were holed up in that inn in Tortuga...I think you were having some work done on the Captain's cabin on the Pearl...and Scarlett and Giselle literally burst in on us?"
He glanced up at her just as he threw the towel in the laundry basket in his closet, his mouthing working curiously. "Of course I do, you were on top of me, and you invented some very colorful curse words when they shocked you into stopping."
"While you had to hold yourself back from strangling the both of them."
"Two of my least favorite women in the world had interrupted sex with my most favorite woman in the world. I really wanted to strangle them."
"Why do you suppose they-"
"-they were unable to wrap their heads around me having sex with someone else that wasn't either of them, so they had to see it for themselves. Nasty little vultures. What brings the memory up?"
It brought a smile to her face. "Just admiring the fact that I'm the only one in the world that gets to see this," she paused to draw an imaginary line from his feet to his head with her finger, "whenever I want."
"Well, Scarlett and Giselle are dead anyway. And don't give me too much credit, I have an angel living in my midst that has for some reason decided to stay on Earth with me, only me."
Her skin tingled at his words, knowing that he meant them at face value, instead of just using them as flattery.
She followed him over to the bed when he slipped under the comforter. "I'm no angel, Jack," she said quietly once she had her head nestled against his shoulder, wondering if he would remember…
"You are to me," he whispered back, a warm smile in his voice.
"You did remember."
"That night remains as one of my best, if not the best, so if I ever forget, well, anything about it, I'm most likely dead."
The skin of his chest twitched as she played with it. "We're old."
He snorted at her blunt comment. "Ancient, love. Positively frail, decrepit, over the hill, we're practically fossils at this point."
"Mmm, nice looking fossils at least."
"Perhaps the fossils should think about sleep, because I'm about to-" he was cut off by a great yawn, followed by a continued attempt to say "fall asleep".
She leaned over to kiss him this time, stealing his goodnight kiss, giggling at his muttered "thief", before he turned the light off.
Her black boots crunched against the twigs of Hedgemead Park, the trees making strange shadows along the path she was walking on, like long gnarled fingers stretching across the concrete reaching for some unknown entity.
The evidence box kept slipping down her side, a hiss of annoyance piercing the air every time she had to hoist it back up, even though none of that mattered, the box didn't matter, the horrible cold London air didn't matter, the precariousness of the situation didn't matter, because she was so close to this being over, to all of this being forgotten.
Arturo had better be here.
A yellow 'under construction' sign assaulted her vision when she approached the little clearing, almost more offensive than the barely hidden greasiness under the black suit and cigar smoke. It wasn't even physical grease, just a nastiness that lived inside of the man, pouring off of him like stink from a decaying body.
"Suzuki, and here I'd thought that the harsh winds of London had killed you."
"I've been to the Himalayas, you miserable mijimena. London can do nothing to me."
"A lot of people have been to the Himalayas."
His face was strangely bright under the park lamps, accentuating the age lines.
"And there are a lot of Cartel bosses. Neither of us is truly unique because of where we come from or what we have done. Compared to each other, however, I find mountains to be more impressive than sucking down cigars and bought pusshī."
"As a dangerous man myself, I find your profession far more impressive than climbing rocks."
Fixing him with a glare, she shifted the box to rest against her stomach.
"Keep that in mind. Arturo. If any of this does not go my way, if you don't hold up your end of the deal, you're going to wish that the only impressive thing about me is climbing mountains."
"Always the consummate assassin."
A weight lifted off of her when he took the box, testing it in his hands.
She thought there might be some grand speech from him, or something else that might waste her time…
"Give my thanks to Jack. Perhaps you should give your thanks to him as well. And his Mujer."
"And Gabriella?"
"Tomorrow morning. 10 A.M., there is a little gas station about 10 miles from the London Airport. We will meet you there with her."
"That's it?"
"Se acabó."
He turned and walked in the opposite direction.
Only a few more hours, a plane ride, and a drive, and she would have Gabriella back to her parents.
Just a peek, just a quick peek…
The long skin-colored curtain was heavy when she drew it to the side to look out of the window, seeing what she could of the city below.
Arturo had told her to stay on the bed, but she didn't always do what he said.
Skin color, a strange green color on the floor, the walls were chalk white, and the bed sheets were the same color as the wine her mother drank.
It was nothing like the colorful inside of her parent's house, with her mother's dragon statue collection, dragons with long necks, short necks...some had wings, some didn't, they were all different colors, fiery red, a turquoise jade, like the jewelry she always begged for at the bazaars, a sunflower yellow, and onyx black…
Her father had a ship collection, only about four or five of them, but she liked to study them, liked to run her fingers over the little sails, liked to imagine little sailors on them, liked to imagine what they might look like in the ocean...one of the ships was a black one...it looked as though it had been burnt at one point. There were a couple of handsome cherry wood ones, and one was completely white. "This one is meant to be pintado, painted," her father had explained.
She hoped she would get to paint it one day. It would go nicely with the black ship. "I would like to sail a ship one day. Crees que podría? Could I?"
He had laughed and told her mother, making her laugh too. "Perhaps a little sailboat when you are older, Gabriella."
When you are older…
Her parents said that a lot.
You can see the ocean when you are older, you can drive your own car when you are older, you can have your own money when you are older...
She wondered if sailors, if people back in the days of pirates...ladies, gentleman, those sorts...she wondered if they were told that they could only do things when they were older…
Some of the pirates she had read about...they had started being pirates when they were children, grew up around other pirates...they didn't sound like they had any rules...some of them became pirates, perhaps they were tired of having rules…
Rules were boring, just like this room.
If only she had a book to read…
Often, in the books she read, pirates were called criminals, bad men, a few bad women, as though there was nothing about them that was nice…"Some people view the world as en blanco y negro, Gabriella, black and white. There will always be people like that."
Black and white...criminals and good people...ladies and commoners, rich and poor...the world seemed like it would be a little more interesting if people didn't try so hard to divide themselves up. There was enough dividing done at school to bother with it anywhere else, she thought.
Pirates didn't have to go to school.
Of course, most pirates couldn't read either.
Even so, she fancied that she would like to be a pirate, sail the seven seas, have her own black ship, command her own sailors...she would be a good captain...muy agradable y respetuoso, very nice and respectful, just like the sisters said at school.
Some stories had pirates kidnapping ladies, princesses and aristocrats…
She wouldn't do any kidnapping, she didn't think. Unless the princess wanted to be kidnapped...being a princess seemed dreadfully boring, so perhaps she would be doing them a favor by kidnapping them.
No more fancy dresses, no more ugly hats...once she had pointed to a picture of a lady in a dress while sitting next to her mother at the library. "Why is her waist so small?"
"Well, she's wearing what's called a corset, they are apretado, extremely tight. You lace them in the back and they give you a nice figure."
Corsets sounded stupid.
The uniforms at school were bad enough.
She tried to like school, tried to listen and learn and pay attention, but the world was so big out there and she wanted so badly to see it…
The city below was dark, lit up only a little with streetlights and neon store signs. She could see the outlines of a few people walking along the sidewalk...she wondered what their lives were like, where they were going…
It kept her from wondering where she was going…
When the door clicked, she jumped back from the window and scrambled back on the bed just in time to see Art walk into the hotel room with a box in his hands.
"Ahh, little Brielle, still where I left you. Bueno."
She didn't say anything, just watched him watch her for a moment, with his greasy eyes, then followed him with her own as he crossed the room to the little table where one of his cellphones sat.
He picked it up and pressed a few of the buttons on it, before bringing to his ear.
"Hola, Rosalina," he said after a few seconds. "Tengo buenas noticias para ti. Little Brielle is coming home."
"Tomorrow, she'll be back in Mexico by tomorrow night."
"Si, si. I hope your husband has learned his lesson."
"Bueno, wouldn't want to cause your family any more trouble."
"Certainly, un momento."
She snatched the phone out of his hand as soon as it was within range, and couldn't decide what to say first.
"Mama!"
"Brielle, mi bebé, oh I miss you. Your father misses you too."
"Is he there?"
"No, no...not at the moment."
Her body slumped a little.
"Oh...Arturo says I am coming home tomorrow."
"Si, él dijo eso. We can have popcorn and we can watch Treasure Island if you want. I know how much you love that movie."
"I can't wait, Mama. Te amo, se levantó de un jardín español."
I love you, rose from a Spanish garden. It was the first full sentence that she had been able to say in español. Her mother loved roses.
"Yo también te amo, mi pequeño girasol."
I love you too, my little sunflower.
She didn't really like sunflowers, but her mother still liked to tease her by calling her one.
"Arturo wants the phone back. Bye bye, Mama. Te veo mañana."
See you tomorrow.
She could hardly wait to see her mother's smile again, to hear everything she had missed, to read all of her books again, to see her father, even to go back to school.
Tomorrow, when the sun came up and the sky was orange, turning a shade lighter every time she looked at it, when the air was still cool with that burst of warmth from the sun peeking through the clouds...when you could see the fiery star on the edge of the horizon…
...as Arturo made sure she was in bed, when he turned the light off, she had one last thought before she fell asleep dreaming of Mexico.
What did the horizon look like to a pirate on their great ships as they watched the sun ascend above the water line in the morning...
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The Scythe's Song