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Silk	By : JacksMermaid Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 6954 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Silk � Chapter 5

Dreaming... drifting... he could feel the seaweed tangling around his arms, could feel himself floating and yet he was unafraid, because the mermaid was holding him up, she was twining him in her arms and her hair was so gold, her eyes so dark, and then the seaweed had suddenly drifted into his mouth and he choked...

He jerked awake with a gasp, and then began coughing when he realized he was inhaling hair. Hair? Her hair. Oh, God. It hadn't been a very good, very detailed dream? He looked down at the golden head in his arms and suddenly gave thanks to every single deity he could roll out of his foggy brain, There's God, thank You... and there's Shiva, thank You as well... Neptune - thanks, mate... and Buddha, hell, I'll thank him too... The faint blue light coming in through the windows told him it was just before dawn; they'd been asleep for some time now. Worn out, he thought, grinning wider. Any wonder at that? He couldn't stop the smile that split his face, gently brushing her hair back from her forehead, his throat tightening as he looked at her.

She made a soft noise and stirred and he braced himself for anything, whether it be rejection, denial, disgust... Her eyes fluttered open, blearily focused on him, and then her lips curved into a smile of such drowsy sweetness that he felt his heart bounce and drop. Bloody hell, he sighed to himself. He traced her cheek and softly asked, "All right?"

"More than all right," she murmured, closing her eyes against his touch.

"Not... sorry?" he asked, swallowing.

Her eyes opened fully and she frowned, "Did you think I might be? Oh, Jack," she reached up to cup his chin and he felt all of twelve years old, a goggle-eyed cabin boy, as he leaned down to lay the softest kiss on her lips. She stretched a little under him, and then hissed, causing him to quickly draw back, "Elizabeth?"

"Sore," she told him, wryly.

"I'm sorry, love, if I hurt you."

She smiled. "You did warn me, remember? And you made up for it."

"Did I now?" he grinned, and saw her faint blush. He grinned, wickedly, "Tell me, which part did you like best? Be specific."

"Jack!" she protested, hiding her face against his shoulder, and he chuckled. He slowly, lazily looked down her body, marveling. Until he reached the dark stain between her legs and cursed himself for nine kinds of fool. "What?" she asked, stiffening.

"I'm a callous bastard and I never should have fallen asleep," he told her, getting up from the bed.

"Well, you were exhausted," came her pert answer.

"You saying you wore me out?" he called back, indignantly.

"Certainly tried," she purred, stretching again and smiling. And I'm not sorry and I don't regret a damn thing, she mused. I should be sorry. But I'm not. She watched him reach for a pitcher, pouring out water onto a rag and wringing it out. Water, she thought, bemusedly, didn't know he knew what it was for, other than to sail on. Then she shivered as he began to carefully and meticulously clean his... she couldn't even let herself think a word for it, and felt herself blushing. So, he at least keeps that part clean, she gulped, wide-eyed. And so will the rest of him be, if I have any say. "Need help?" she asked softly, hopefully, and heard him chuckle.

He grinned, watching her watching him; he could almost see the cogs turning in her brain, knew what she was thinking. If she so badly wanted him clean, he'd oblige. Eventually. He walked back to her with the pitcher and cloth, seeing her smile shyly up at him. He leaned over, reached down between her legs and began to swab.

She shivered, couldn't help but sigh. Oh yes, ready for more, she thought. Until she looked down and gasped at the rusty tint on the cloth. He saw her face and quickly, softly said, "It's all right. You're all right. It happens, the first time. The pain, remember?"

"Will it hurt the next time?" she asked, just as softly, fascinated with watching him clean off the blood.

Next time. There will be a next time? Thank You, he thought again with relief. If this kept up, he might become religious. "I'll be ever so careful. But I think you're through the worst of it." He smiled a little, "And this is why no silk on the bed last night... but I'll nip you all the silk sheets you want, next chance I get."

She laughed, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you want," he answered, setting down the pitcher and the cloth. He gave her a slow, lazy smile and began to lean over her, "And what will I do with you, my Lizzie?"

"Anything you want. Keep me as long as you want me."

He stared down at her. "Don't say it like that." She was looking at up him with those dark eyes, and he again realized what she was thinking.

"I just didn't want you to think I expected anything, Jack," she said, softly. And it was true, she wanted to be realistic. She didn't expect him to marry her or anything else, he wasn't some honorable young man or noble Naval gentleman. It was Jack. She fiercely told herself that she would take what she had of him, and be glad of it. But, oh, it scared her to think of him leaving.

He felt angry, shaken, unexpectedly sad. He grabbed her chin, "Is that what you think of me? Thanks for the romp, Lizzie, now shove off and be on your way?"

"You'd always implied... women in every port, and I didn't want you to..." she couldn't look at him, couldn't raise her eyes to him.

"Oh, bugger it. I may have exaggerated a bit," he mumbled, waving a dismissive hand and trying not to look embarrassed. Then he looked hard into her eyes. "And you aren't one of those women," he growled, "Do you have any bloody idea what I've gone through for you..."

There was a knock at the door and they both froze. "Someone will have undoubtedly heard us at some point during the night," Jack sighed.

Elizabeth set her jaw. "I don't care," she said, so softly he almost didn't hear.

"You will if it was William," he told her, grimly, and then cut off her protests. "I'll see who it is, and then I want you to stay in here until I'm gone and then you get dressed." He looked down at her and saw that she looked suddenly lost and very young. He swiftly bent to take her into his arms, kissing her eyes, her cheeks and then giving her lips one long, shuddering kiss. Before he could allow himself to sink back into the bed with her, he roughly pushed away and got up, pulling on his clothes. Damn it. Of all the times for someone to knock, he thought, and then snorted to himself, No, last night would have been far worse.

"Cap'n," came a low voice. Ah. Gibbs, of course. "Are ye..." Jack jerked open the door and Gibbs finished, lamely, "Decent?"

"Never," grinned Jack. God, it was a glorious day. He took a deep breath and quickly pulled the cabin door shut, shielding the bed from Gibbs' view. He couldn't stop smiling, noted that Gibbs was noticing and quickly tried to smooth his face into seriousness. But the damn corners of his lips kept trying to turn up, betraying him. Bloody glorious day.

Gibbs looked at his Captain and inwardly groaned. Trouble before the day was out, sure as gulls had wings. Jack strode off down the deck, almost bouncing, and Gibbs clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned aloud. Trouble for certain, aye.

Inside, Elizabeth ran her fingers over her lips, smiling and stretching luxuriously. She felt unbelievably good, never thought she could ever feel this good. She'd seen his eyes and was pretty certain that he wouldn't be asking her to leave anytime soon. Good, she thought, because I'm not letting you get away. If I have to lie, cheat and steal to keep you, I will. She giggled to herself. Pirate. She slowly got up, wincing a little at the soreness, and went to find her clothes. Oh. Her shirt. She'd forgotten. She began to rummage through the pile of his clothes. Phew. Needed washing... needed airing... needed burning... this one would do. She brought it to her nose, inhaling his sweat and salt and musk before she pulled it over her head.

She briefly had the gleeful notion of rummaging through the rest of his things before she realized her more pressing concern: getting out of his cabin without anyone seeing. That might prove difficult. Morning watch, who had it? Gibbs had already come to get Jack, which left the Welsh brothers, two of several men that they'd taken with them when they escaped the 'Locker. The two were as inseperable as Pintel and Ragetti, new to the crew and they didn't know her well enough to give a hang as to whether she came out of Jack's cabin or not. She pulled on her boots, realized she was humming to herself and let out a snort of laughter. So this is what they'd all meant, all the maids and their smiles and suitors. She traced her lips wonderingly again, ran a hand over her breasts and shivered. I can't wait to see what happens next. She slowly opened the door, peeking out, and saw no one. She stepped out into the cool dawn and stretched. Glorious day, absolutely beautiful. She sauntered down the deck, glancing up to see Jack at the wheel, studying his compass. He looked down and their eyes locked briefly. She quickly turned away, feeling as though her face would break from the width of her smile.

He saw her stretch, raising her arms to the sky, and he quickly smothered a grin as he saw Gibbs glance from Elizabeth back to himself. He cleared his throat, "We're, ah, right on course for Jamaica, Mr. Gibbs."

"I see that," Gibbs replied dryly. Oakum and ale, but this is bad, he thought.

Moments later, he was treated to the rare sound of Jack... softly singing to himself. Oh, no. "Frightful bad luck to sing before breakfast, Ja..."

"Stow it, Mr. Gibbs." And he continued to sing under his breath, slightly off-key and horribly cheerful.

------------------------------------

Hours later, Gibbs was still marveling at it all. Look at 'em. Like a pair of spooning kids, the two of them. The 'Pearl had become an unknown country, a place where Jack could be found cheerfully whistling and Elizabeth singing to herself. It was nigh unbearable, bloody disgusting the way those two were carrying on. Did no one else see it? Had no one else... heard them last night? He scanned the crew, looking for signs of recognition. And while they had noticed that something was amiss, what with Jack's insanely good mood, Gibbs' didn't know if any of them had actually sussed it out. Jack... Miss Elizabeth... trouble brewing.

Their eyes followed each other. They thought they were being so sly, so nonchalant, but their eyes completely and utterly gave them away to anyone who actually had the brains to look (which counted out most of the crew). Miss Elizabeth watched the Cap'n constantly, seeming to study every bit of him and sometimes unconciously copying his very movements. Jack's eyes followed the girl like a man who'd found the richest treasure ever and was expecting it to disappear before his eyes. Gibbs had only ever seen Jack look like that at one other lady: the 'Pearl. Bad news, bad news if Miss Elizabeth had taken place alongside the 'Pearl in Jack's affections. There'd be bloodshed over this. And not for the first time - and not withstanding the affection the old sailor actually felt for Miss Elizabeth - Gibbs cursed Jack for ever bringing her aboard, despite all she'd done and all the help she'd been. For now he saw that young Turner had also noticed their eyes. Of course. He would.

Will was coiling rope, dark eyes blazing in his lean face as he watched Elizabeth. She'd changed. She looked different. Her entire body moved differently, a kind of rolling grace and a hypnotic sway. And she kept watching Jack. No. She couldn't have. Only, Jack seemed to be doing an awful lot of watching her back. And so Will's mind kept running over the same thoughts. She couldn't have... could she? No, she wouldn't. You did turn her away. But she wouldn't do that. Would she? That kiss between them all those months ago had meant nothing. Didn't it? And so his mind ran on, and he watched them, and he realized his entire body was tensed up with the urge to strike them both.

Gibbs steeled himself, knowing his next action might be his last, and moved over to where Jack was leaning against the rail, idly rubbing his chin and staring down at a certain area of the main deck. "Jack. A word." He deliberately used the Cap'n's name.

"Mmm?" Jack didn't even turn his head.

"Jack, how long we been friends?"

At this, Jack turned to look at him, a curious glint in his eye, "Long time, mate."

"And I've never questioned ye. Well. Mostly."

Jack suddenly knew where this was going. "Should have known, you." He took a deep breath. "Free and clear, Josh," he muttered, "She made the choice willingly. And do you regularly walk the bloody ship at night or were we just..."

"Yes, well," Gibbs hastily interrupted, "Turner is looking like murder and the whole crew is getting distracted by the... atmosphere."

Jack's eyes began to darken, brows drawing together, and Gibbs steeled himself. "What I do in my cabin is my own bloody..."

"Yessir. Captain." Gibbs replied, deliberately, and Jack softened a little.

"I know what I'm doing, Gibbs."

"Yes, I'm sure. But does she?" Gibbs suddenly looked at him shrewdly, "She isn't one of the Tortuga lasses, ye can't just have this one and then leave her..."

Jack's eyes glittered and he took a step forward, causing Gibbs to step back, "She most decidedly isn't a Tortuga whore."

"E-exactly, Cap'n. Ye can't play with her." Gibbs saw Jack's hand unconciously stray to the hilt of his sword and he hurriedly continued, "For the love of Neptune, Jack, anyone can see she's over the bloody moon for ye."

Jack paused. He looked down over his shoulder to the main deck, a smile beginning to curve his lips. "Is she?" Damn. He didn't mean for his voice to crack like that.

Gibbs smiled. Jack was well and truly caught; he might do right by the girl after all. But it still didn't remove the problem of Will Turner. "Well, we need to get to Port Royal quick as may be, get him off the ship," he muttered, jerking his chin to the boy who had completed his task and was now methodically chipping at a piece of wood with his knife.

Jack looked to where Gibbs nodded and had a brief twinge of pity. Luckily, that pity quickly passed. "Too right, mate."

Gibbs cleared his throat, "And, er, ye might want to keep it down a bit, p'raps?" He fought to control the blush creeping over his face, seeing Jack's wolfish grin. "I might not be the only one who has sharp ears in the night."

"We can try," Jack answered. The smile had turned positively ferocious.

Gibbs coughed into his hand, half-chuckle, half-sigh. "I suppose this means Miss Elizabeth is coming along with us. After."

Jack suddenly froze. "I, er, hadn't asked yet."

"But that was the plan?"

"As if I'd let her go...?" Jack asked, almost to himself, and Gibbs stifled another chuckle.

"Apparently not. Though her dear papa might have summat to say about that."

Jack inwardly groaned. If a blacksmith had been bad, what about him? Swann hated him. There would be no blessing on this little union, and he was suddenly aware of the depths he was tipping himself into, of how messy this could truly get. He turned to look down, seeking her out. He watched her walk down the deck, and he suddenly had to be near her. He could take no more. To hell with messes, I'll pay the cost.

He didn't say a word to Gibbs, just left the wheel in a sudden movement that had his first mate gaping. Jack had never just left the wheel... Damn women anyway.

Elizabeth sighed. It had been a long, tense day. Nothing like trying to go about one's business and suddenly remembering a certain aspect of last night's events in glorious, brilliant detail. Nothing like simply trying to walk down the deck and suddenly wanting to re-experience said detail so bloody badly that it made her knees weak and her breath catch. It was a wonder no one had noticed. Yes, it had been a long day and she was suddenly ravenously hungry; she hoped Cotton would have something for them to eat soon. Preferably something, well, edible, she smiled ruefully. She glanced up and saw that Jack had left the wheel and was coming down towards her and her breath quickened.

She started down the deck, knowing he was following her, knowing he was coming, hearing his bootsteps behind her. And suddenly he'd caught up, casually falling into step beside her, steering her so that their backs were to the rest of the ship, cornering her against the rail on the pretense of speaking to her. "When? he breathed, and she almost fell into his arms right then and there.

"Jack, we can't... someone will see..." she gasped as his hand reached down, briefly brushing against her. She wildly glanced around, praying Will was nowhere near.

"I can smell you when you walk past me," he groaned softly, and it nearly killed her, "I can smell you on my hands..."

"Jack," she pleaded, "we have to wait until tonight... oh..." His hand had brushed furtively against her breasts. The breasts she hadn't bothered to bind when she'd left this morning. The ones that were barely covered by her vest and...

No wonder they�d all been staring today, he thought, and is that my shirt...? He listened to her shallow breaths, finding himself ridiculously hard at remembering how she'd moved under him last night. He slowly walked her backward a little more, his hips aching to push her back firmly against the rail. He'd take her right now, right here. It was his own bloody ship and if he wanted to have his girl, his girl, he'd do it... she was leaning into him... Until they heard the sound of boots coming up behind them and they both leapt apart.

Without thinking about it, Jack pushed her behind him, blocking her. Not good. If it's Will, we'll have to have it out, we'll have to... He looked up to see Cotton looking at him quizzically and nodding his head politely to Elizabeth. Cotton's parrot squawked, "Fire in the belly!" and Jack frowned.

"Time to eat already?"

Cotton's wrinkled face creased into a smile and he nodded. "Right then," said Jack, "I'll just, er, finish here and be up to my cabin."

"Shoals ahead! Mind the rocks!" the parrot shrieked and the three of them all glared at it. Cotton's eyes widened and he wrapped a hand over the bird's beak before quickly walking away.

Jack turned to Elizabeth, hearing her quick breathing. "Damn bird. Dine with the captain, love?"

He gave her a grin that was as shaky as she felt, and she was smugly, fiercely glad of it. This would never do, they were all but screaming to the world that they were... "Jack, we can't keep this up."

He frowned. "'Course we can, you've been taking meals with me since you came on board."

"I mean us." She grinned, despite herself. "Neither of us are exactly renowned for our subtlety."

He laughed, ruefully. "I know. We'll have to do something about that. But not right now." She smiled up at him, a hot smile that said a great deal. Good to know that I affect her as much as she does me, he thought, bemusedly. Damn it.

"Give me a moment," she told him, and watched him walk back down the deck. She leaned against the rail and sighed, collecting her breath and her thoughts. Not good, she told herself, in an unconcious echo of Jack. Not good at all.

-----------------------------------------------------

Yes, the superstition about singing before breakfast is a real one. God, I love writing Gibbs. :-)

I know there was a lot of "in their head" bits in this chapter, but I felt rather strongly about showing their thoughts - a much more personal insight - as opposed to omniscently writing their reactions. If you really don't like that device, let me know and I'll cut it out. I don't plan on doing it as often as I did in this particular chapter, but I generally sprinkle characters' thoughts throughout my work (as I'm sure you know by now).

Working on Chapter 6. It's going to get ugly, so it'll take some thought... Thank you all SO MUCH for the tons of amazing feedback.

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Silk