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The Evil Lady E	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 5995 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 7: The Black Widow

“Don't,” pleaded Elizabeth, her eyes on the writhing creature inside. “Please, don't.”

He looked at her in mock surprise. “You don't like her? I thought you two would get along famously.”

“Why would you think that?” Elizabeth asked, taking the bait.

“Because, love... you two are the same species.” He took the tongs and plucked the spider out, which moved its legs helplessly. Elizabeth could not focus on his words, as she flattened herself against the wall.

“Look. She's got her black and her red hourglass, and you've got...” He looked up and down her maroon outfit, still made for a man, which clung to her curves rather well, he thought. “...something like that.”

“Please, take it away.” She could barely draw breath, and her voice had become almost inaudible.

“But you're so alike. Want to know why? Although I'm told it's more the exception than the rule, the black widow got that name because she - like you - “ He held the tongs in his right hand, moving to slide over against Elizabeth's warm body, pinning her to the wall. “-is known to murder her mate during the act of copulation.”

When his words finally penetrated the haze of fear that had descended upon Elizabeth, she turned her eyes from the spider, still wiggling at the end of the tongs, to Jack's eyes, which blazed with something she'd never seen in them before. She felt a twinge in her belly that she attributed to arachnophobia, and continued to meet Jack's eyes, feeling her cheeks grow warm again. Her lips parted, and hot breath escaped. She couldn't keep looking in those searing, rum-warmed eyes that seemed to look right through her. Instead, her gaze fell to his mouth. She watched as it descended, very, very slowly, toward hers. Her eyes closed, and her hand slipped around his waist. When his warm, dry lips first brushed hers, a fine tremor coursed through her limbs. Revulsion, she told herself. He disgusts me.

Jack flicked his eyelids open for a moment when he felt that tremor, and quickly glanced over her face, noting that her eyes were closed and she was straining to get closer to his lips, which he'd drawn away after that first brush. Now he gave them to her again, fitting his lips between hers and sliding gently, back and forth, gently probing with his tongue against her lips until she parted them for him and he slid inside, sweeping her mouth hungrily.

Instantly she arched her body toward him, and he reached his left hand down to lift her higher against the wall, her legs wrapping naturally around his waist, and then he was pressing against her, there, right in the secret place between her thighs. She was already burning hot, and he ground himself into her, hard, right in the center; a concrete premonition, a mimicked promise of the sexual act that seemed suddenly, overwhelmingly inevitable to them both.

Somewhere upriver, Tia Dalma held her hand over a candle flame while chanting, which unexpectedly leapt up and burned her palm.

The Queen Elizabeth met with an unusually large wave, and pitched, sending everyone scrambling for balance.

Above stairs, Will, a few sips into a bottle of rum, felt a wave of nausea overcome him.

Ragetti and Pintel, playing cards on the crew deck, began to fan themselves. “Mercy me, is it twelve times 'otter in 'ere all of a sudden?”

Davey Jones, amidst a passionate crescendo on his pipe organ, hit a horribly wrong note and stopped dead.

Commodore James Norrington, having recently been re-issued his blue Navy uniform, tripped over a step and fell, sprawling, in the mud.

Weatherby Swann, Elizabeth's father, mysteriously dropped his tea all over a pile of important documents in Port Royal.

Clink. A tiny sound parted the fog in Jack's mind. A sound he knew well... the sound of the safety being taken off his pistol. He pulled his mouth reluctantly away from Elizabeth's, satisfied to see her lids were drowsy and heavy and her cheeks hot, but when she opened her eyes, he saw passion fading, giving way to something else.

The shadow.

It was then that he felt the muzzle of the pistol pressed snugly under his left arm.

He smiled, a real smile, down into her face, which was flickering between light and darkness, between desire and destruction. He lifted his head away, deliberately turning to look at his right hand, which still held the struggling black widow in the tongs.

Right above her creamy, white neck.

“All I have to do is let go,” he said, his voice thick with desire, yet ominous with warning.

“All I have to do is pull the trigger,” Elizabeth said defiantly, unwrapping her legs from around him and setting her feet on the floor. Her chin was raised, her eyes black and glittering.

“'S not loaded.”

“We'll see about that,” she said calmly, and squeezed.

Click.

The hammer struck an empty chamber, and Elizabeth let her hand fall to the side, sighing deeply with frustration. The anger then flashed back into her eyes, and she shoved the pistol roughly into his belt. “Not very surprising that your pistol isn't loaded,” she said between clenched teeth, cinching his belt strap unnecessarily tight with a single, brutal yank. She glanced up to see that Jack still held the black widow, dangling it closer and closer. Her whole body tensed.

“Elizabeth, you wound me,” he said, his tone dark and mocking.

He released it.

Her blood-curdling scream pierced the night, and Francois appeared, hurrying down the steps. “Everything all right, captain?”

“Jus' lovely, thank you,” Jack said over his shoulder. He lifted his boot and crushed the spider where it had fallen on the floor. He leaned over to where she stood, still and white, shaking, against the wall.

“You lose, Lady E.”

He turned and strode from the brig, locking the door behind him.
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The Evil Lady E