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The Scythe's Song	By : hallowedmaiden Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 2815 -:- 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
- 24
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- 26
Her steps were short and even, the footfalls barely making a noise on the cement of the sidewalk.
It would be over soon.
Tomorrow.
Rosalina would have Brielle back, she would have Brielle back, and the Cartel would go back to being the Cartel, not that they ever really stopped.
Toxic, the entirety of them, just like the Yakuza. Organizations like that only breed disease, a poisonous fume that infects all of those involved, even the children. It winds it way into them, insinuating itself into their lives so that they barely notice the grasp it has on them, treat it like it is part of them in the same way their love for their family is...good, honorable...it was sickening watching a person from the outside get caught up in all of it and change…
It makes a person wonder about the steadfastness of character, of integrity, it makes a person wonder if the human psyche and the concept of personality are far more fragile than they are made out to be.
Nicolás Magana, Gabriella's father.
An exuberant man, always looking for the fun in life, always looking for ways to make Rosalina smile...then money trouble had slowly sapped the life out of him, until one day he made a desperate attempt to help his family...started selling prescription pills...got so good at it that the Cartel had approached him and offered him an opportunity…
Rosalina had begged him to say no, had begged him to decline...but the profit from it had even looked attractive to her, not that she would have ever admitted to it. Life in the Cartel, working for them, could be very comfortable as long as you were smart enough not to fall, not to get caught in the violence and the corruption.
Or smart enough not to try and leave.
But that's exactly what Nicolás had done. He had watched his daughter live under lock and key, had watched his wife live with that hidden fear in her eyes, only visible when she would glance out of the window for a second at the sound of shouting, he had watched himself deteriorate into something entirely different than what he once was.
Walls had gone up, he rarely ever smiled anymore...it had been like watching the color bleed out of a photograph.
Walk, walk...needed to get back to her hotel, needed to get off the street…
That disgusting man...Arturo...but even she could see the sense it made from his perspective...to calm a dog that had remembered that it was on a leash...he had to remind Nicolás of his place, remind him that he could never leave it…
It was just the cruel reality of the world that taking things away brought things back...
Around the block now...her car was parked on the other side of the Queensberry Hotel next to an alley, only a few blocks away. Just needed to get there...then drive to her hotel.
Streetlights were stationed about every ten feet, she had been counting them as she went past, a habit of hers, counting…
There had been eleven lights since she had left the park, and she estimated that there were at least twenty-five more before she made it to her car…
Listen for noises, look for anything suspicious...shadows, other footsteps...nothing…
There were hardly any people at all, only a couple standing outside the little shitty bar she had passed…
Twenty-one streetlights now…
Twenty-two…
The orange of the light on the corner of the parking lot cast streaks across the black paint of her sedan, the dark town reflected in her window, but she didn't have time to focus on trivial things...needed to find her key...which pocket had she shoved it in, glanced up when she shoved her hand in the inside pocket of her black suit jacket, just in time to see movement in her car paint, distorting the orange reflection, didn't even have a chance to react when she was shoved against the hard door of her car with a knife pressed into her neck, all of her breath expelled from her.
"Quiet, asashin, wouldn't want to slice that pretty neck of yours."
It was nothing more than a whisper, but it struck her like a whip, the sharp pain in her neck blending with the adrenaline coursing through her...but, just then...the world started to calm...and she was falling...falling away...
The smells of...wherever she was...oil...must, stale air...it was all she could focus on...sounds...distant footsteps, the creaking building, the buzzing of the fluorescent light above her.
Her breaths hurt from the dust she was inhaling, the dryness in her nostrils, she felt frail.
But all she could see was a never-ending expanse of black, of nothingness...her eyes were sore from rubbing up against the blindfold, watering from the scratch, from the pressing against her eyelashes…
She was sitting in a chair in front of some kind of table, in a fairly small room...the couple of times the door had opened, it hadn't taken long for the gust of air to hit her.
Couldn't remember coming here...all she remembered was being shoved against her car...and a voice…
A zip tie was wound around her wrists, binding them together around the table leg...didn't know how long she had been here, had only come to...about twenty minutes ago.
It must be about 1 A.M.
Footsteps now...getting louder, coming closer to the door...a man, with their heavy gait, thin though, was able to pick their feet up and put them down evenly, didn't have to fight their weight.
The door opened, air rushed into the room...silence for a moment, then a thud as the door closed.
She angled her head to where the person must be standing, waiting for them to do...something.
"I do apologize for the blindfold, Suzuki, but I'm sure you understand why it was necessary."
Her next immediate inhale was sharp, burning her nose, suspended in her chest for a slow second, then exhaled with a whispered "Izumi".
That calm silky voice, poisonous with the most infuriating amount of cockiness...gōman-sa...arrogance personified.
"Taking time off from killing Japanese prosecutors to...whatever it is that you're going to do to me-"
"It was necessary. But we aren't here to talk about me. We're barely here to talk about you, in fact."
What did he know?
He watched her, sitting there, staring straight ahead into nothing, though he knew she was still on high alert, listening, thinking...she was still dangerous.
"I see."
There was a scratch on the floor...the other chair…
"I am on a time schedule here, Suzuki, and I know this might be difficult for you, but please, try and cooperate, otherwise I will make your career go away very quickly."
She didn't doubt it.
"I'll do my best, baka. And the blindfold was necessary. I'm glad you remember."
The risk of her escaping with her sight increased dramatically, but without it, she was effectively rendered harmless for now, for as long as he needed her.
"Your talents are hard to forget. You kill better than anyone else I know."
"I appreciate the acknowledgment."
More silence.
"To begin, I want to know why an assassin of all people, a cold-hearted bitch, would care about a child."
How much did he know?
"Your opinion of me is disheartening. What does it matter?"
"Curiosity. Seems so out of character. Similar to you hiring someone else to do a job for you."
"I wasn't the best person to do it."
"And Jack Sparrow was?"
It was pointless to deny anything now, he knew enough to know she would be lying...all she could do was manipulate what he didn't already know.
"I wouldn't trust anyone else."
He grunted, a small grunt that someone makes when they are satisfied with the conversation.
"You know, I have been trying to figure out where I have heard his name, but it just isn't coming to me."
"He is very good at making himself hard to pin down, both in name and in location."
"But you know? Where he is located?"
In the outskirts of Bath, in a lovely house with a statue of Poseidon, a collection of very nice cars, and enough weapons to provide to a small army.
"No, I don't. I have never had the privilege of learning."
"Well, good to know that he and I have something in common. Neither of us trusts you."
"He doesn't trust anyone."
Except for his two employees...Elizabeth…
"I've heard, he works alone, is that correct?"
"...Yes, alone."
A good thirty seconds went by before he spoke again, and she knew he hadn't believed her.
Fuck.
That was something he hadn't expected. It was only a minute hesitation, running through a hundred responses in the space of two seconds, but it was enough.
"You hesitated. He has a partner."
A weakness, something he could exploit, threaten, chip away...
"...A partner only, and he only sees her when there is a job, never any other time. He is not romantically inclined."
"And how do you know?"
Had to tell him, to put him off of Elizabeth's scent…
"He and I have...a history."
"A history? Didn't know you were inclined to the thief type."
"He's not unattractive."
Far from it.
"And does he trust this partner?"
"Enough to work with her, but personally, no."
"Tell me about him."
The request threw her off guard, both because it seemed like a question only suited for a longer conversation, and because she didn't quite know how to describe Jack.
"He is...incredibly guarded, very intelligent, smarter than you most certainly, a master with firearms, a master strategist, could probably have my profession if he was inclined. I...don't know enough of his history to tell you anything substantial, but I can tell you that it would be in your best interests to tread lightly if you are going to involve him in anything."
"Smarter than me? I doubt that. Though, his evidence heist was impressive. Tell me, was his partner involved?"
"I don't know. I hired him to do the job, not tell me how he planned to do it. Now he has done it, and I am waiting on him."
"Which brings me to my main concern. Where were you going, and where is the evidence?"
...If she told him that Arturo had it, Izumi would go after him, putting Gabriella in danger.
Sorry, Jack.
"As far as I'm aware, he is still in possession of it, and I was on my way to update someone."
"The Cartel? I see. Are you going to acquire it from him or are they?"
"He is...being difficult. He wants more assurance that he is no longer involved in your mess once he hands it over. However, like I already told you, confronting him is ill-advised."
"I will decide what I find to be ill-advised. So far, you have told me nothing that makes me hesitate as far as he's concerned."
"His partner...she should be a concern to you as well."
"And why is that? I'm barely concerned about you, what makes her any different?"
Elizabeth would see herself dead before Jack was harmed, you ignorant imbecile.
"She is not untalented herself."
"So you know of her?"
"I have...done a little background checking. She's a thief, like him."
"Do you know what her name is?"
"...Elizabeth. I do not know her last name."
His head turned very slowly to regard her, letting the name saturate his mind for a moment. The buzzing light became unusually loud, time seemed to slow down, and the two stories of his life converged into one.
Elizabeth. A thief. A professional thief. One that Jack Sparrow trusted enough to work with.
"...Liz, for short?"
"I...suppose, yes."
Could it be her?
Could it be that easy?
"So, Jack Sparrow has the evidence, you do not know how long he will have it, and your part in this is entirely done until the exchange happens for little Gabriella?"
"That's right."
"Well, like I said, I decide who is dangerous and who is not. Jack Sparrow will not stand in my way, and neither will Elizabeth. Especially not Elizabeth. I'll find him, one way or another."
"I'll make sure to stop by your grave, if Jack leaves anything left to bury."
He didn't respond, only smiled at her, the same smile she gave to her targets just before sending them to death's door.
The triumph of moving on to a new target was exhilarating, but now he had two.
"Koji, Tsubasa, Naoki, get rid of her. Her bell is ringing."
Suzuki, unfortunately, had to die, in case she was lying, in case she was going to run off and warn anyone. No great loss. There were other assassins.
"Hai, we can hear the sound too."
The three of them stepped past him, readying their guns.
Goodbye, bell-wood.
As he walked away from the room, out of the building, into his sedan, he wondered about everything for a second, and then wondered about how to proceed next, in the reflection of everything.
They needed that evidence...but, something new had been brewing inside of him...a new angle...the girl...Gabriella.
They could use her.
All he had to do is figure out where the evidence exchange was taking place, and where Suzuki was meant to collect her.
Then he would collect her.
He also needed to know more about Jack, his new adversary.
But, all of that paled in comparison to his glee of the possibility that he had finally found Liz, she had fallen into the palm of his hand without any effort on his part. Lady Luck truly was on his side, and he was not going to let her down.
Soon, he would be saying goodbye to her with his own gun while she stared up at him begging for her life.
And if Jack got in his way, he would suffer the same fate.
The clock was ticking, a rather annoying sound most of the time, but now it seemed...tolerable.
He was grateful for the dark...it offered him some kind of solace, some kind of assurance that the rest of the world was turned off, not present, that he had found a pocket of existence where he could let his thoughts run and bleed together without the threat of needing to explain them or even understand them.
Sometimes he felt like his own mind put him on trial, made him examine himself as though he were a criminal defending himself against a murder charge.
In the exposure of the day, he threw guards up, walls, barriers between himself and people, so many that they would need to spend longer than the construction of the Pyramids to break them down.
Three centuries made you very good at protecting yourself. But, the lack of sleep did wear on him sometimes...
And like all fortresses, walls, barriers, blockades, he had a weakness, a key, a crack in the stone…
'Are you the pirate I've read about or not?'
'Are there any truth to the other stories?'
'You spent three days lying on a beach drinking rum?'
His head shook, twitched a little, a half proud half annoyed smirk turning the corner of his mouth up.
Even then, his love had wormed her way in...the fire in her eyes, the refusal to back down from him...the way she had almost stomped on his heels as she chased him through the jungle...of course, he had given her a rebuttal of 'welcome to the Caribbean' like none of that was true, because then he had been so deep in denial that it was happening…
Yes, he had spent three days lying on a beach drinking rum, and he took pride in the fact that he eventually got her to do the exact same thing, many times, among other activities, of course.
'And we will be positively the most fearsome pirates in the Spanish Main…'
That first island, their island, the memory he had used to get her through her first time...to get him through that exquisite torture too…
And then she had burned his bloody rum.
And he'd still loved her despite it.
Loved the way she was laying on his chest now, her hair tinted blue in the moonlight coming through the slit in the curtains, sleeping peacefully.
He hadn't really allowed himself to get worried about the consequences of the job...but when he'd held her in his arms, when he'd felt her frustration and her panic...something changed.
Something that had kept him awake for two hours…
The prospect of losing her terrified him like nothing else...he'd gone through every possible scenario that could happen now that the Yakuza were here...what if someone did talk...what if…
But it all ended with him swearing to himself that there was no way he would let anything happen to her, regardless of who found out what...and it was true, he would throw the full force of his defensive skills into whatever enemy had the unfortunate notion of harming her.
Wouldn't even think twice about it.
She was the only thing, the only light that he let in, really let in, other people, other things, they all had occasional peeks, but she had an all-access pass to his heart, his soul, mind...anything she wanted.
He just hated not knowing. Hated not knowing the facts, not knowing what everyone else knew, despised being in the dark, just waiting for them to show their hand...but this wasn't the type of game that he could go on the offensive in...hunting them down was not an option.
Retaliating was.
Had to wait. Wait until something happens, until something shifts.
Had to start taking the situation seriously, from all angles. The cops, the Yakuza...
For the moment, though, the world was quiet and he had the woman he loved in his arms, safe, he'd made sure of it...nothing would stop him from protecting her.
Just like nothing would stop him from holding her, running his fingers across the locks of hair that were splayed across his chest, from trailing his fingers down the curve of her back, over the gentle swell of her breast pressed against him, from enjoying the warm breath she exhaled onto his skin.
He was starting to feel comfortable acknowledging that she would be as hell-bent protecting him as he was for her. That she loved him as he loved her. They really were two peas in a pod.
Slowly, his body relaxed into the mattress, started to feel heavy...thoughts started to drift away, started to get blurry, abstract...something about salt...ocean waves maybe...how they used to feel, how they used to sound crashing against the hull of the Pearl...how thunder used to sound in the distance…
Distinct claps, three of them in a row...just after a fierce flash of lightning...three...why was the thunder so loud...why did it sound so close…
Not thunder, knocking. Someone was knocking...where…
He almost coughed on the breath he sucked in, his entire body going rigid...listening…
Three more knocks...violent knocks.
On his front door.
A quiet murmur came from the sleeping figure on top of him, a sleepy "wassat"...she tried to lift herself up to listen, but he shifted her to the side with an equally quiet "I don't know, stay here", then he was rolling to the side to open the nightstand drawer, grabbing the pistol that lay next to an empty carton of cigarettes and a whiskey flask, silently climbing off of the bed and striding to the door, pausing to pull on a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt.
He opened it in one smooth swing and slipped through it, sending a look over his shoulder to make sure she had listened to him...at least for a few seconds, and then very nearly pointed the pistol at Chris, who almost collided with him coming up the stairs.
"You're lucky I have excellent reflexes," he hissed, staring at the front door, allowing a small smirk at Chris's muttered 'fuck off'.
"Who is it?"
The stupidity of the question took a second to break his concentration. "Oh, you found out about my new x-ray vision? I was keeping it a bloody surprise, dammit."
"Wouldn't surprise me…"
They both turned just their heads to find Shawn standing at the top of the stairs, rubbing his hands over his face. "Whoever that is, they have just pissed off three people-" Shawn started, before he cut him off.
"-I wasn't sleeping-"
"-Yeah, because you're a bloody insomniac-"
The distant faraway sound of a ringtone floated through the air, failing to grab their attention until it got close enough.
"Jack, your phone is ringing. It's Suzuki."
He turned to find a still sleepy Lizzie standing behind them, holding the Xperia out, smiling a little at his muttered "thought I told you to stay in the bedroom".
"Where's Ringa?"
"Sleeping still," he answered, a fresh wave of annoyance making him jam his thumb into the screen to swipe the 'answer call' slider over. Before he could even get a word in, she was already shouting at him.
"Jack, for the love of god, open the door."
"You're alone?"
"What-of course I'm alone."
Choosing to end the conversation before he got too annoyed with her to let her in, he swiped the end call slider and shoved his phone into his pocket.
The door swung open to reveal her standing there, her usually stoic appearance disheveled and…
"What the fuck happened to you?"
Her hair was down, she had a forming bruise on her neck, and there was a large gash on her chin.
Rather than respond immediately, she rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at the inside of the house.
"Fine, fine, get in here."
Fuck, fuck….fuck.
The possibility of this conversation going badly was looming over her head, and a hundred different scenarios of Jack vehemently telling her to vacate his house were playing in her head.
Had to tell him.
The truth, all of it.
Chris and Shawn were staring at her like they expected her to pull out 87 guns and start shooting them...and Elizabeth was watching her cooly like she didn't quite know what to make of her.
The feeling was mutual.
She stood in the expanse of floor between the kitchen and the living room, feeling like an escaped science experiment. Jack had disappeared down the hallway once the door had closed, and the other three weren't talking to her.
Which left her with the only thing she could do...was already doing...worry about everything and anything. Something she was not accustomed to doing.
Jack returned a few seconds later carrying...medical supplies, she realized. Some surgical glue, antiseptic, a damp washcloth...
"Go on, go sit on the couch," he threw over his shoulder as he grabbed one of the kitchen chairs, following behind her when she complied, pausing next to the door to flip the living room light on. The other three chose a spot on the opposite couch while Jack placed the chair just in front of where she was sitting, settling onto it.
"So, going to tell me what happened, or am I just here to play doctor?" he asked, muttering a quieter "lift your chin up". She winced as he cleaned the cut there, the antiseptic stinging a little.
"I...yesterday, I arranged to drop the evidence off with Arturo tonight. That went smoothly, we did the exchange in Hedgemead Park, just a few hours ago. He'll be on his way back to Mexico early tomorrow morning, I'm guessing."
"...by smoothly, do you mean he gashed up your chin and tried to strangle you before you handed the box over?"
He scooted a little closer to apply the glue, gently holding her head still with his other hand.
"No, Arturo didn't do this. The...the Yakuza are here-
His shoulders squared a little, a hardness entering his eyes.
"...I know. Lizzie and I saw them earlier-"
Chris's eyes widened behind Jack, a little bit of panic washing over his face.
"You saw them? Here? As in they are here in Bath?"
"No, I astral projected myself to Japan and saw them there."
The funny comment was clearly ignored.
"For fuck's sake, and we're just sitting here twiddling our thumbs?"
"You're not going to have any thumbs to twiddle if you don't calm down. Obviously, they aren't going to find the house, or I would have prepared for such a scenario."
He turned back to her, inspecting the bruises on her neck. "These...damn, can't do much for these except put some ice on them."
Lizzie got up to presumably fetch some while Jack focused his eyes back on hers.
"You gave the box to Arturo, and then left. What then?"
"I was walking back to where I had parked my car and was just about to open the door when I was attacked and sedated from behind. I came to in some kind of building...a warehouse or something."
"Thanks, love," Jack said as Lizzie came back with the ice. "Do you know what they injected you with?"
"Diazepam I'm guessing, based on how fast I was out," she answered, pressing the ice against the bruise. "They blindfolded me for obvious reasons. Then I was interrogated. Listen, I think someone in the Cartel talked. Not willingly, at least not entirely, but he knew things that he wouldn't have known otherwise."
"He?"
She sighed a heavy sigh that meant she would rather not talk about him or be reminded of his existence under any circumstances.
"You've already heard of him, the man who killed the Japanese prosecutor. His name is Tatsuo Izumi, next in line for one of the head branches of the Yakuza. Real slimy man, but smart."
"It's interesting that he's here himself. Tells me that there is a lot more wrapped up in this for him and the Yakuza than just a trafficking problem. Well, what did he ask you, and what did you tell him?"
"From what I could gather, the Cartel man told him about you, obviously told him that Bath was a place of importance, and told him about my deal with the Cartel."
Just in the way Jack hesitated before he asked, she could tell that he was wary of her answer. "And what did you tell him about me?"
"He...wanted to know if I knew where you were located. I said no. Then he wanted to know if you had a partner...either a working partner or a...romantic partner. I said no."
"Good-"
"-he knew I was lying, Jack."
His head rose slowly like he hadn't quite heard her at first. "About-"
"About Elizabeth. I had to tell him, that you had a partner, but I swear that I said you were nothing more than professionals."
At first she thought he might shout at her, but instead, he sighed through his nose, rising from the chair to go into the kitchen.
"Go on," he said when he returned with a tumbler of rum, scooting the chair to the end of the couch, keeping it facing her.
"I told him a little about you personally, about how you're good at strategy, good with guns, and I told him that it would be in his best interests to avoid confronting you."
She waited, waited for him to ask for more, and hoped that he wouldn't.
Had to tell him anyways.
"And? What else?"
Stall.
"Mind if I have one of those?"
"You can get it yourself."
"Fine."
The walk to the fridge seemed precious, like she was having her final meal before her execution.
"He wanted to know about the evidence."
"And you told him you no longer had it?"
"...yes, after a fashion."
The rum was already gone when he got up to put the tumbler in the sink. "What do you mean?"
But her brain was already accelerating faster than she could maintain it. "Listen, please listen to me, Jack. I had to tell him, I had no choice-"
She paused when she saw him go very still, the light from the living room only illuminating his face enough for her to see his eyes narrow.
"Tell him what?"
A sick feeling bloomed in the pit of her stomach...too smart...he was too fucking smart.
"That...I told him you had it. The evidence. I told him that you were waiting for-"
Three seconds was how long it took him to process it. She counted them, holding her breath at the same time.
"-Jesus fucking Christ, Suzuki," he hissed, tangible heat pouring from his voice. "You fucking sold me out-sold us out...fucking lied...what's your excuse, since I'm guessing you didn't act that goddamn stupid just because."
After a pregnant moment where she held her silence, he gave her a 'well?' expression, and she took a deep shuddering breath.
"That handgun story I told you, when I came here to pick up the evidence...it wasn't true."
More anger flooded his face, his body tightening until it resembled a snake about to strike at something that was too stupid to stop provoking it.
"You have exactly until I say I'm done listening to explain yourself."
"I'm friends with a Cartel family, the Magana's. Five years ago, they entrusted the protection of their daughter, Gabriella, to me during periods when I spent time in Mexico.
"Nicolas, the father, has been trying to leave the Cartel for some time, and he turned the heat up recently on Arturo, making demands and threats. Lines were crossed, and Arturo needed to do something to show him his place.
"So, Nicolas asked me to negotiate her return, Arturo saw an opportunity to get something from me, the evidence, I hired you and Elizabeth, you did the job, and now she's being returned.
"I couldn't tell Izumi that Arturo had the evidence, because that would have put Gabriella in danger."
She watched him put the pieces together, watched the disbelief turn into indignation, watched that turn into barely controlled fury, but still, he only stood there, glaring at her with poison in his eyes.
"...Are you telling me, this entire time that fuckbag was holding a child hostage? The entire goddamn time I was working this job, a child was in danger? Think that might have been good to mention when you fucking hired me?
...opened her mouth to try and get a reactive word in, but he kept going.
"Great story with the fucking handgun, and you're lucky I believed it, and the only reason I did was that I was in a hurry to enjoy my life with her."
"Jack-"
"-why the fuck didn't you tell me...why didn't you think for one second to tell me that a little girl was at stake here? 'Oh, by the way, if you don't pull this job off, it might turn into a fucking murder case'-"
"-I didn't think you'd care, dammit. I didn't think you would have wanted to get involved."
"What the fuck is that supposed to m-nevermind, fuckin' nevermind." Then he did turn away, dragging both hands through his hair, holding them there for a second, breathing heavily. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elizabeth rise from the couch, the other two staring at the scene with a parade of emotions sliding in and out.
She turned away as Elizabeth calmed him down with a hand on his forearm and some whispered words that she couldn't hear.
"You're sure you didn't give him any information about where to find us?"
"I swear it. I tried to remain as vague as possible, and I withheld as much as I could."
His eyes closed and stayed closed for a few seconds, until she heard a muttered "get out" under his breath.
"Excuse me?"
"I fixed you up, I appreciate that you did what you could to help, but you still broke my trust. I'm no longer interested in your presence. Get. Out."
The muscles in her legs became unresponsive for the moment, half from wanting to be stubborn and half from feeling like he was being unreasonable. But she also knew that when Jack made up his mind, there was no arguing.
"Fine."
She could feel Elizabeth's eyes on her as she walked into the living room to snatch up the set of keys to the car she had escaped with, feeling the anger at being thrown out starting to creep into her.
Just as her hand touched the doorknob, the deep urge to retaliate with something buzzed in her, and she turned around.
"I'm not the only one keeping secrets."
Only a few seconds, a few beautiful seconds was all it took for her to see the realization of what she was talking about wash over Jack's face, but she didn't take the time to linger there, flicking her eyes over to Elizabeth's instead, challenging her to figure it out.
I had him too, once, if only for a night. You're not that special.
Lies, her brain told her, but she never backed down without detonating something.
"The T.V. is fucking broken."
Jack was halfway through throwing the remote back on the table next to it when she looked up, her wet hair still sending rivulets of water down her tank top.
"Then I guess we're not watching T.V."
"Tired of staying in shitty hotels," he snapped, disappearing back into the bathroom for a second, making a racket with the cupboards.
When he emerged, he was shirtless, only wearing the black P.J. pants he had changed into, giving her a full view of all of his tattoos. The little swan on his shoulder, the poem, the dragon, the sparrow on his wrist, the ship on his shoulder...each one was a mystery, only part of a greater mystery…
He always seemed so...frustrated, like he was running to something that he was never going to catch...like he was never quite fulfilled in life.
The bed sagged as he sat next to her with a damp washcloth, a little tube, and his flask of rum.
"Do you want me to do it?" she asked, inclining her head towards the cut on his arm.
His body went still as he considered her offer, but then he shook his head, uncorking the rum. "No, I got it."
The only indication of pain from him as he poured the rum over the wound was a very quiet hiss, with nothing from her but silence while she watched him seal it with the surgical glue after washing it.
She wasn't sure what made her do it...maybe it was the long-hidden attraction she felt for him, maybe it was to distract herself from the crumminess of the hotel room, maybe she had a strange urge to help him, to release some of his tension, but regardless of the reasons, she had no idea of his reaction when she raised her fingertips to his shoulder, pressing the pads of them into his skin lightly.
Panic shot through her arm when he jerked away, turning around to glare at her, giving her a brief look inside of his torment, the slow burn of the weight sitting inside of him pouring out of his eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't know, I don't know what I'm doing. I just-"
"-I'm not available."
Very few moments in her life had ever felt as crucial as this one did, but she had...something had to happen...he couldn't go on barring himself off like this...and she would go crazy if she didn't have him at least once.
"It doesn't have to mean anything," she said to the carpet, daring to look up at him through her eyelashes. "It won't mean anything."
"Then what the fuck's the point?"
"The point is not everything has to mean something. Sometimes things can mean nothing and still help."
She wasn't even sure if that made sense to her.
"I don't need help-"
"You walk around like you're climbing a hill that just keeps adding more hill before you can ever reach the top. It will help."
The mattress bounced back up when he rose, walking over to the window to stare out of it, his arms crossed over his chest.
"You have to understand that you're not...you can't."
"Can't what?" and her voice was nothing more than a whisper.
"Can't be attracted to me...you secretly want this to mean something more, but it won't. Not to me."
It took her a second to realize that he had agreed, that he was willing.
"I know."
Did he hear the dejectedness in her voice?
Did it matter?
All she wanted was to see him without that hard outer shell at least once, but she had no confusion about her ability to make it to his heart...whomever or whatever had barred that away was not giving to anything.
She rose too, still shocked that this was happening, and crossed the room to stand behind him.
"Just a bit of fun, just...a distraction," she was whispering as she trailed a fingertip down his spine until he turned around.
The ends of his black hair were still damp from his shower earlier, though she couldn't fathom why she had noticed that detail.
She hadn't even realized she was stepping closer, leaning forward, until his palm pressed against her chest. "One condition. You...don't kiss me."
Any other person might have been confused, but she understood. "At least, not here," he added, pressing his finger against her bottom lip. She understood that too.
It was too intimate, for him. Someone else held that privilege, held it in a steel cage until the end of time perhaps, unless they returned.
He must really still love her.
"Alright."
Something like static electricity crackled in the room, a feeling of pure abandon...they were abandoning who they were for the moment, where they were, abandoning the bookends of events that had happened before and the ones that would happen after...not caring about any consequences...it was animal instinct, nothing more, and it was so liberating.
And it still meant nothing, would leave no mark on history, no ripple in the pond. Once they left the hotel, it would be erased from existence.
She braced one hand against the window behind him, and one hand carved a path down his torso to rub him through his trousers, and he held her gaze through all of it, a strange heat in his eyes as he started to harden, like it hadn't been brought to the surface in some time.
Had to ignore the onslaught of ache between her legs for now...but god she wanted him...let that thought fuel her as she slowly dropped to her knees, trailing light kisses down the muscles of his stomach as she went, feeling them quiver...then her fingers were curling around his waistband, dragging the fabric down, barely sucking back the gasp of hysteria when his erection sprang free in front of her eyes, then she was swallowing him down too, pushing her lips down his length, the hotness and hardness of him making her dizzy…
Pushed as much of him into her mouth as she could when she heard his moan, when she felt his hands hold her head, guiding her rhythm, an empty push and pull between them, then he was lifting her off and walking her back to the bed, his hands on the edge of her tank top in a question.
It was off in the next second, thrown somewhere, and the soft comforter pushed against her back when he laid her down, pulling down her pants at her raised hips, crawling up to rest his weight against her, immediately descending to her breast for one blissful second.
Then he tensed, stopping just above her flesh, raising his head, shaking it, only a few twitches at first, then more adamant shaking.
He'd gone too far...had crossed a toe over the line of things that only…
...only she, whoever she was, was allowed to enjoy.
"Turn over."
She gazed at him in confusion for a moment before it was dumped on her.
Wasn't even going to get the privilege of seeing his face, then.
Would still take it, would take what she could get of him.
As soon as she was braced on her hands and knees, his hands rubbed a path up the sides of her torso...then he was there, the tip of his length nudging her…
The bedsheets became trapped in her clenched fists as he slid inside of her with one smooth careful stroke, and it felt like her body had started on fire from the inside, her skin barely able to contain the heat, the exquisiteness of it, cherished the quiet "oh god" that spilled from him, but it sounded like it…
...like it was just for him, like it wasn't even the sex that was good, just the...something...the something that was finally releasing a fraction of tension within him.
"Alright?" he whispered, buried inside her to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against her.
All she could do was nod, sliding herself along his shaft with shallow thrusts.
Didn't matter, nothing mattered...he was thrusting into her now, a steady rhythm...she raised her hips to accommodate him...felt so good...so damn good...pressed her face into the bed to smother her blistering moans, clenching around him when he pressed one hand into her stomach and switched to hard fast strokes, pounding into her, sending both of them spiraling towards something...a release...a death...a reincarnation, she didn't know, didn't care…
Bright lights exploded around her and she was away from the world just then, transcending, shattering, putting herself back together just to shatter again...the equivalent of hitting the ground from a towering height when she collapsed onto the bed, Jack following on top of her.
They both laid there in their own separate worlds, a divide between them, then Jack's quiet gravelly voice next to her ear floated into her brain-world barrier. "Sorry, 'm crushing you."
Ten minutes later, they were back to where they started, sitting next to each other on the bed, their clothes back on.
And he was staring at her shoulder, had been on and off for three of the ten minutes.
"What's that tattoo?"
Everything was back to the way it had been like nothing had happened.
At least she would have the memory.
"It's a bell-wood tree. That's what my name means. Got it when I was nineteen, but don't ask me why."
There was something in his eyes though, a calm for the moment, like a storm tempered over a city, giving it peace before pounding it again with wind and rain.
Both hands became a barrier in front of his face, his head dropping into them with a soft "why"...but she knew that the momentary blindside wouldn't subdue him for very long.
"What are you talking about"?
It came from Elizabeth, but Jack still drew her attention as he looked sideways, first down to the carpet, then to his girlfriend.
"Why the fuck...of all the times to bring that up...why now?"
"You throw me out after I tried to help you."
His eyes glittered with fire, with a darkness that reminded her why she feared him, feared that look...like he was being consumed…
"I'm still throwing you out-"
"I thought she deserved to know, especially after you patched me up so tend-"
The rest of the word dug into her throat with a gurgle as he charged at her, and only pure instinct alone allowed her to be quick enough, let her hand dive down to the back of her jeans, her fingers wrapping around the butt of the pistol she had taken off of one of Izumi's goons…
...but Elizabeth was quicker, training a small pistol on her first, a sharp "Jack" sent towards him as a warning.
Jack's gun hovered halfway between being pointed down at the ground and being dug into her chin while his chest heaved in barely controlled rage.
"What are you talking about?" Elizabeth asked again.
"Ask him."
There was nothing more for her here, and she turned away, wrenching open the door and stalking into the darkness.
He wanted to throw things, wanted to hit something...why...didn't understand why she had to use that against him...like it had meant something...it hadn't meant anything...still didn't mean anything…
But now he was questioning...wondering why he hadn't told Lizzie...wondering if he should have told her…
Every time he had ever touched another woman after the damn hotel, he felt like it was a betrayal...like he was betraying her...and losing another part of himself…but then that ugly part of him argued that he could do what he wanted...didn't have to feel attached to anyone or anything...
Could have gone without telling her...but...now she was wondering too…
Fuck.
"What was she talking about?"
Turned to find her watching him, naked worry in her eyes...worry for him...not worry for their relationship, not worry about Suzuki, but worry about what he was feeling…
He reached out and took the pistol from her, holding her hand a second longer before shaking his head, unable to bring the words forward to tell her…
Couldn't tell her...didn't know how to tell her…
Wasn't going to be able to tell her anyways, his head snapping slightly to the left to look behind her at the origin of the loud sound of something smashing into the floor.
Shawn surged up from the couch to the sound of Chris's "you could have thrown literally any fucking thing besides your damn phone"...
The problem of Suzuki was temporarily forgotten about as he watched his mechanic charge down the stairs, heard the sound of the sliding glass door wrench open…
What in the fuck…
"Are you going to go after him or should I?"
"You're better at dealing with anger," Chris answered, still staring at the pile of phone debris.
What the fuck else could go wrong tonight?
He turned his attention back to Lizzie for a moment, stepping closer to take her face in his hands softly. "Later, I'll explain later."
Giving her a quick kiss, he headed towards the stairs immediately after.
He made it outside just as Shawn's shoe connected with the lawn chair next to the pool, sending it jerking forward.
"Hey, I don't know what the fuck is going on, but-"
"Everything's fucked," shouted with another kick at the chair to the left, followed by his body doing a full spin before zoning in on the wet bar on the other side of the sliding glass door.
Fuck no.
"Go ahead, destroy my bar. I'll have a fun time picking out your coffin. Do you want bright pink, white...maybe I'll just cremate you and throw your ashes in a dumpster-"
"Might as fucking well…"
This shut down, the abysmal feeling of someone giving up...he'd been there before multiple times...the hotel, the prison, and before that...the Locker…
"Sit your spastic ass down in the chair that you just abused and talk."
He got a hateful glare for just a few seconds before Shawn seemed to deflate, and he wondered if the guy might just let himself fall into the pool.
"Sit. Down."
A muttered "don't know what the fuck's the point" was thrown at him, but Shawn listened. Thank fuck.
"Take a couple of deep breaths. We aren't going to get anywhere if you don't calm down."
"Fuck you."
"Shawn."
Another soft "fuck", a dropping of his shoulders, and then he heard a soft "sorry".
"No need to apologize. You think I've never snapped?"
"True-"
"But I need to know why."
He could sense the hesitancy, the churning of something, of several somethings beneath the surface…
"It's just...I...I like it here...I-it seems like it is starting to fall apart...again…"
Again?
"What are you talking about?"
Three minutes went by before he spoke again, and he let him be silent, let him think through what he wanted to say, how much he wanted to say, whether he wanted to say anything at all…
"My parents...I told you that they were dead...the first week we were here...I told you they died…"
"Yeah, I remember-"
"But I never told you how they died…"
The hair stood up on the back of his neck, but he sat quietly anyway, waited patiently.
"When I was eight, I...it had been a Friday night...sometimes I got to stay up late on Friday nights to watch cartoons. The living room light had been burnt out and my dad hadn't been out to get a bulb yet.
"I couldn't see the buttons on the remote, so I lit a candle to turn the channel...don't know why I didn't just take the remote into the kitchen or the hallway, then I got too tired to keep watching, so I went upstairs to go to bed."
And forgot the candle.
"I left the candle burning, and my dad had left the window next to the dinner table open...it was windy that night...I hadn't noticed the window...wind knocked the candle over while we slept…
"I woke up to smoke and a firefighter dragging me out of bed...I remember trying to say something about my parents, trying to point to their bedroom door, but it all happened so fast. They took me outside, put me in an ambulance…
"Next thing I remember is sitting in the hospital, hearing people talking outside about foster care, what they were going to do with me...didn't really understand it...what was going on...what had happened, until I caught a glimpse of the T.V. in the waiting room of that floor...there was a news story about the fire…"
The pool didn't have a single ripple in it, the air seemed unnaturally still...quiet…
"I killed them, Jack. They're dead because of me...and here with you and Chris, I feel like I can move past it, I feel like I belong somewhere...I can't lose that…"
Finally, he understood, understood why Shawn always held himself apart from everything, always put up a front...didn't want to make the mistake of getting comfortable.
But all he could do was drop his head in his hand for the second time that night, the weight between them as palpable as a ton of water on top of them. "Christ, Shawn…"
"The counselor kept telling me it wasn't my fault...that it was an accident-"
"-Shawn-"
"-Kept telling me that I was only eight, that I couldn't blame myself for it-"
"-Shawn-"
"-but I'd been smart enough to know better, my mother had told me a hundred times to blow out candles before going to bed-"
"Shut up for a second."
What in the hell could he tell him? That his counselors were right? That everything he was feeling was invalid?
Fuck…
"Look, I realize that the human brain is an absolute cunt sometimes, and that it can convince you of horrible things...twisted things...make you think they are normal...that they are right-"
"-but-"
"-but you didn't kill your parents...for fuck's sake, you were eight, eight. It was a simple mistake...a horrible unfortunate circumstance with horrible consequences, but you can't blame yourself."
"Well. I do-"
"Fuck that. You can't. Your parents wouldn't blame you, they wouldn't. Putting that kind of weight on a child...that's asinine, disgusting...you need to forgive yourself, because you sure as hell can't change what happened, and hating yourself over it isn't going to bring anything or anyone back. Playing the "if only" game will just eat away at you until there is nothing left to take...trust me, I've been there. A hundred times."
He could see the lingering self-hate in his eyes, the shadow of memory there twisting...resisting…
"Did you try to forget that candle? Did you wish for it to get knocked over? Did you go to bed hoping that it would start your house on fire?"
"What-"
"-Just answer the question."
A car in the distance made an unnecessary loud noise from its muffler, something rustled in the trees behind them, but he didn't notice and Shawn didn't notice.
"No…"
"Then it's not your fault."
First, his eyes went to the concrete again, then up towards the sky, then to the left, before finally settling on just closing.
"I know-but it has to be someone's fault...I can't believe that life can just do that...can just ruin everything in the-"
"-It can. It will. When I was nine, my mother died. When I was 21, I was branded a pirate for freeing slaves, that same day they burned my ship into ash. Things happen. They don't always make sense, but they happen. You have to learn to live with that reality-"
"-but-"
"-But, what you can't do, what you can't allow yourself to do, is live like you expect everything to fall apart. Do you know why I lost Elizabeth? Because that's how I lived, for way too long. Always expected her to get up and walk away, always expected to have the rug pulled out from under me...failed to see what was already obvious if I would have just paid enough attention, if I would have just stepped out of my own insecurities for one second...to see that she loves me.
"You have plenty to live for, plenty to enjoy, and you don't have to spend half your time waiting for the next tragedy. Devote that time to finding something to hang onto when you fall."
He got up, wanted to give the guy a second of space...went over to the bar and set two tumblers on the counter, poured some Jack Daniels in each, and went back to the table.
"Here. Enjoy actually having a reason to drink it for once."
At first, he thought he wasn't going to drink it...he looked at it, picked it up and swished the amber liquid around, and then finally tipped it back and downed it in one gulp.
"Thanks."
"Anytime," he replied, finishing his glass off. "Counselor Jack. I should get a nametag."
"Fuck you," but this time it was said with a small grin on his face.
"Listen, I realize that working with me is kind of like walking through a minefield with a blindfold on sometimes, but I like to think that I have something going on up here," he paused to point at his head, "and I swear that I would never deliberately put any of you, or this, the life we have, in danger."
"Well, that's a lie. You are the danger."
"Ha. To some people, maybe."
"No, no, to me and Chris too."
"Fuck you," he shot back with another grin and a small salute. "We should get a set of those t-shirts that say "fuck you" with arrows pointing to the left and right...or would it be "fuck him"..."
"That reminds me, you and Chris should show Lizzie your perfect impersonation of the dude/sweet scene from-"
"-First of all, the only time we ever do that is when both of us are so smashed that we can't remember what tattoos we have ourselves, and second of all-"
"-it's fucking funny. Do it for her."
"Yeah...whatever, comedian Jack too, then."
He was grateful for the shot of JD as he climbed the stairs with half a mind to turn around and flee into the forest...he dreaded the conversation that...well, fuck, he couldn't avoid it...not now that it had been brought up...but he really hadn't prepared for it...to go into detail about...she knew things had happened…
The lights were on in the bedroom...damn, he was almost hoping she had gone back to bed.
Open the door. Open the stupid door. She loves you…
A pair of red silk pajamas were strewn across the floor when he walked in, and she was sitting on his bed with the blanket wrapped around her, watching him with five different shades of trepidation.
He stopped in the middle of the floor, stared at the bed for a second...no...thought about taking a shower first...can't delay...then finally settled on crossing the room to the couch and dropping himself onto it like a sack of lead bricks.
"Love?"
Didn't turn to acknowledge her…
"I...didn't intend on it being brought up like that...hell, I didn't really intend on it ever being brought up...truthfully I had half forgotten about it until she…"
"Forgotten about what?"
But he could tell that she already knew...somehow…
"Suzuki and I...fuck, it was a long time ago...like ten years...we did...sort of did a job together...more like we met up halfway accidentally and finished it. It was...a bad week for me...pretty dark...and I just wanted...wanted to forget...everything.
"I didn't tell you the specifics because I saw no reason to...it never meant anything...that was impossible...but every time, even though you weren't even around...I still felt like I...like I was betraying you...made me uncomfortable afterward...laying there...the ill feeling always lasted for a few days…
"Her and I...we had a one night stand...that night once the job was finished...I didn't sleep that night...all I could think about was you...how I wished it was you with me...instead of her...the only thing that got me through the sex was thinking of you...it was the last time I touched anyone else…
"Couldn't bring myself to do it again...decided I would rather suffer and stay true to your memory instead of losing a bit of myself into the nothingness...stopped trying to escape and instead tried to stay stationary, at least in my head."
After that, he stayed quiet, covered his face with his hands, and waited.
What he was waiting for, he didn't know...didn't know what her reaction was going to be...thought he might be able to imagine what it might be...but didn't know what it was going to be.
So when he heard the comforter rustle, when he heard footsteps walking away from him, his heart clenched in fear…
If I could take it back I would Lizzie...dammit…
But then the footsteps were walking towards him, not away, and through the frantic pace of his heart, he realized that she was kneeling down in front of him, pulling his hands away from his face.
"Come on, let's go take a shower."
Her heart was breaking for his wary expression as he stepped in behind her, and then he wouldn't even look at her, just stood under the water and covered his face with his hands again.
"Hey-"
The retreat, the slight recoil when she wrapped her fingers around his wrists should have surprised her, but it didn't...couldn't anymore.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"I just-" he paused to reach out and grab the bottle of Old Spice, "I just feel so...ashamed of it-"
"-Jack...you shouldn't. I never...I didn't own you, still don't own you...you were free to do whatever it was that you wanted."
He raised his eyes to look at her, searched her face.
"Don't...don't you feel uncomfortable with it? I...I don't-"
Yes, she was. The second she had figured out what the woman was talking about, she had felt ill, but not angry...could never feel angry towards him like that…
"Of course I do...it was one thing just knowing that things had happened, but...having her here, in front of me...and then knowing that the two of you shared that...it makes it real...before I could just ignore it...but now I keep seeing images...flashes…
"I will never claim ownership over you...anytime you want to leave, you're free to do so...but I hate the idea of any other woman having you...touching you...kissing you...it makes me feel sick…"
"I didn't-didn't kiss anyone else. Couldn't bring myself to do it...never let them see my face either...that part of me...was yours...I'd only ever allowed you to see it…"
All she could feel in that moment was love, love for his love for her, love for him, love for what they had...and in love with the fact that she had it back, love for his touch...which was encompassing her wrist just then, raising her hand to his heart.
"You know who this belongs to...don't think I need to tell you any more...it never stopped belonging to you...not once in that 44 years...and had I kissed someone else...had I held them like I hold you when we make love...it...it would have felt like I was letting my heart belong to someone else...I couldn't do that."
She wanted to say something, to explain...to make more words...but her voice failed her...until she realized she needed to tell him too.
"I never kissed anyone either...I could barely do anything without just comparing whoever it was, the very few men that I had been with, to you. Everything they did...it just never even came close to you...I think you ruined me for anyone else…"
"Well, good thing there won't be anyone else, hm? I...I know that we don't own each other...but I'm not saying no to forever either...can't imagine any other future…"
Her mouth quivered with emotion as she laid her forehead on his chest, trying to pull herself together, trying to put everything that had just happened in a neat little box...but it just wouldn't fit...too much feeling...too much...it had to go somewhere.
"I need you," tumbled out of its own accord, and then he was backing her up against the shower wall, the hard strength of his body pressing against her, reassuring her of his presence, his hands were sliding up her stomach to cup her breasts while his mouth descended on her neck, his tongue proving to burn even hotter than the water dotting the wall behind them, slicking their skin...she caught glimpses of droplets on his bronze skin...rolling down his shoulder, tried to follow them until her eyes slipped shut when the gentle pressure of his fingers nudged her thighs apart...she drug her hands up to clutch his back, raising up on her toes in abandon when his fingers slid inside of her…
"I want to be the only man to touch this," he whispered in her ear, and all she could do was nod with a jerking motion…"The only one you think about...you're the only woman I think about...God, I love you..."
His words melted her, made her clench around his tiny thrusts below...could never imagine another man...and two could play that game…
With a heavy breath against his neck, she reached down to wrap her hand around his now straining erection, and he leaned closer to her with a soft "yes", turning into a deep moan as she firmly stroked him…"I want to be the only woman to touch this...to stroke you...to make you come...to make you climb to heights that you never want to fall from-"
Her words were swallowed by his mouth as it crashed into hers, as hands curled around her arse to lift her up, pressing his hips flush against hers...she only broke away for a moment to whisper "I need you inside" against his lips with ragged breath...he wasted no time complying, sliding his shaft along her slit, and then entering her with a hard stroke, not stopping to...didn't wait for anything...retreated only to slam back inside, one hand still gripping her hip, the other dug into her hair...her body was jerking, rubbing against the wet stone of the shower wall with each driving thrust he made, she was whimpering into his jaw, his neck, digging her fingernails into the skin of his back…
Didn't...couldn't discern the difference between the raw emotion swirling inside of her and the maelstrom of heat and pleasure radiating out from her core...dimly wondered if there was a difference...whispered "only yours" into his ear...then nearly shouted it as he found that spot within her that made the world start to fall away…"Oh, God...love...love…"
Forgot words entirely, lost herself in his body moving against hers, under her hands, his moans in her ear, the perfection of him within her, thrusting, rubbing against her clit with each movement, his wet skin sliding against hers, oh god...so close...so close...her legs tightened around his waist with the first tremor that rocked her, that lifted her hips flush against him...then another, ripping a cry from her lips...then he was moaning "close" in her ear, and her core collapsed around him in a vice, the orgasm felt through every fiber of her body as though it was trying to chase away any lingering doubt, any lingering anything except for Jack and how fucking goddamn much she loved him…
Felt him coming too, his body tightening, his hips jerking hard, his arms wrapping around her just as he finally swore when he spilled himself inside of her, pinning her against the wall with the strength of his release, muscles quivering, almost like he was vibrating against her…
Somehow he still had enough strength to keep her wrapped around him...his body felt like it had lost it all, slack under her fingers...he was still inside of her, still breathing heavily, trembling…
"Only yours" they were saying back and forth, though neither of them could fully form the words, just hoped their breath wrapped around the syllables enough for the other to translate…
And for just a moment, she wondered with time suspended around her, how she had managed to capture the heart of this man, this...perhaps 'man' was too paltry of a word to describe him at this point...he nearly transcended simple language...words…
She was already smiling when he pulled back to gaze at her, a lazy grin spreading across his mouth too, the tension and anxiety washing away as easily as it had come, and as long as they had each other, it would always wash away that easily.
"Hey," she heard him say, felt his finger brush the side of her face, felt it trace her lips, then his entire hand was covering her cheek, his mouth suddenly on hers with a tender kiss, swallowing her word, a quiet returned hey, swallowing her words again, but she suspected that with each kiss, he was doing more than that, he was merging their souls just a little more…
"I seem to remember owing you some bathtub time."
"We just took a shower-"
"-Not really, and even if we did, we do what we want, you and I."
A little giggle, a sigh, and another quick kiss. "The bathtub it is then. How many pirate stories do you suppose we can tell before we both fall asleep?"
"Well, with the lives we led, I reckon we could tell them all night."
- 24
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The Scythe's Song