Unforgivable

Me again!! Sorry about the delay in posting this chapter - my Jack and Liz muses have been sulking since they found out how AWE ended!! I finally managed to coax them out with promises of rum, nookie and a universe free of Whelps......
Hope you enjoy......

Jack rolled towards Elizabeth, his eyes still firmly closed – and landed face first in the space where she wasn’t.

“Mumph!” he protested, lifting his head and spitting out sand. He quickly scanned the beach from his prone position but there was no sign of her. With a groan he felt around until his fingers closed on his beloved rum bottle.

“Bloody empty!” he cursed, to no-one in particular.

He stretched out the stiffness left in his limbs from a night spent on the ground, made to rise – then stopped with a smirk as the blanket slipped and the fresh breeze hit his naked flesh.

He reached behind him for his breeches. Not there. Clutching the blanket to his waist, he searched the surrounding area. Still not there.

Bugger! No rum…No Lizzie…No breeches…and…. “NO BLOODY RUM!” he bawled.

He could see his men in the distance, carrying supplies back to The Pearl. Even Mr Gibbs appeared to have deserted him.

Muttering darkly, he climbed awkwardly to his feet then stood for a moment, considering.

He could go to The Pearl, and order Mr Gibbs to fetch some breeches – and rum – from his cabin. Unfortunately said plan would involve standing in full view of his crew with nothing but a rather thin blanket wrapped around his nether regions – not the image of authority he was aiming to promote. And his men would also be made privy to the fact that the delectable, infuriating Miss Swann had left their legendary Captain stranded bare-assed on the beach with his assets blowing in the breeze….

No. Not good.

Jack swung round to peer into the greenery behind him. Elizabeth had to be in there somewhere…hopefully with his missing breeches. Sighing, he pulled on his boots, hitched the blanket up and set off towards the trees. How hard could it be to find her? The island was not THAT big…..

“…..and really bad eggs!” Elizabeth sang happily. She lay back in the water, revelling in its silky caress. The simple joy of being clean was highly under-rated, she decided, ducking her head under the surface again. She emerged, palming water off her face, and laughed. If the ladies of Port Royal could see her now! Swimming naked in a freshwater pool, keeping company with a shipful of pirates….keeping very close company with one pirate in particular….

Thoughts of Jack made her frown. She had woken that morning with a feeling of unease, memories of the night before playing uncomfortably through her mind. She knew that Jack was a very sensual creature, uninhibited and unashamed of his sexuality. And under his careful tutelage she had learnt to truly appreciate the pleasures his body could bring her – and the ecstasy her touch could bring to him.

But the knowledge that they had been watched – the idea that someone else had observed the very private moments between them, had seen her exposed in every sense of the word – left her feeling vulnerable and violated.

She glanced over at Jack’s breeches, swinging from the branch where she’d hung them to dry. In a little while, she decided regretfully, she would have to leave this tranquil haven and return them to him…and have a little chat about certain boundaries that she was not happy to cross. But for now…..let him wait. He could stew for a while longer – she had, after some consideration, left him the blanket, after all – while she enjoyed her swim….

“Bloody buggering hell!”

Jack swiped angrily at the thorny branch which had caught the trailing blanket and tugged it from his waist. He cursed again as the thorns scraped his flesh, drawing blood. His tanned skin was covered in similar scratches, and his mane of hair was adorned with stray twigs and leaves.

He tied the blanket around his waist once more and held it secure with one hand, placing the other protectively over his crotch. He certainly wasn’t prepared to expose that part of his anatomy to this evil, pirate-hating place.

“Elizabeth!” he bawled again. How big was this bloody island? He’s been wandering round for hours – well, twenty minutes at least – and there was no sign of her.

The sound of running water halted his colourful complaints in mid-curse. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Elizabeth and water. The girl had an unhealthy and, to his mind quite un-necessary obsession with the stuff. She would be unable to resist the lure of a freshwater bath, must have snuck away to take advantage of the pool she and Gibbs had found the previous day.

Grinning, he directed his footsteps towards the stream, his boots making no sound in the soft undergrowth.

In another five minutes he found the pool – and its resident mermaid. In a better mood he would have been quite enthralled by the sight of her standing waist-deep in the water, her hair sleek and dark against her head, her lightly tanned skin glistening wet in the sunlight.

However, Jack was in no mood to be charmed.

He planted his legs apart, threw back his shoulders and placed his hands on his hips.


“Oi! Miss Swann!”


She turned at his shout. He made a very imposing and dramatic sight.


Or at least, he would have, if the blanket hadn’t slipped again in the instant she turned round.


Elizabeth was greeted with the sight of her illustrious Captain, posing proudly – in nothing but boots and a shirt. Her reaction was inevitable.


Jack shot her a poisonous look and turned his back in disgust. Already helpless with laughter, the sight of his naked rear merely redoubled her hysterical giggles. It was several minutes before she was able to attempt speech.

‘Even his backside looks offended!’ she thought randomly, and clamped both hands over her mouth in an attempt to stifle fresh giggles.

Jack stuck his nose in the air and gritted his teeth. This was not going as he’d planned it at all. His throat was dry and rumless, his skin was sore and scratched and he felt as though half his hair had been yanked out by vicious bloody branches.


“Jack!” she choked at last. “I’m sorry! You just look so FUNNY!”


She watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took in a deep breath.


“Where’s me bloody breeches?” he spat, not turning round.


“Hanging up. I washed them for you….”


“Weren’t bloody dirty!” he growled, bending to pick the blanket up. He covered himself with it then turned to face her.


Elizabeth watched him stomp towards the tree where his missing clothing hung and shook her head.


“Don’t be so childish Jack! It was funny!”


“They’re bloody wet!”


“Yes. I washed them. I told you that.”


“Bloody interferin’ woman!”


Keeping his back to her, he relinquished the blanket again and toed off his boots. She watched him pull on the wet breeches with effort, not sure whether to be exasperated or amused.

When he finished dressing and made to walk away, exasperation won.


“You are being ridiculous Captain Sparrow!” she shouted to his retreating back.


“We make sail within the hour!” he flung back. “With or without you!”


Furious now, Elizabeth waded to the edge of the pool, clambered out and gave chase. She collided with his back and thumped his shoulder hard.


“That’s not even funny!”


“Weren’t joking.”


The coldness of his tone made her step back, shocked.


“Within the hour, Miss Swann,” he repeated. Then he turned, his gaze sweeping her up and down. The corner of his mouth turned upwards. “An’ ye might want to consider being more formally dressed afore ye come aboard!”


She glanced down at herself, suddenly remembering her nakedness.


“Stay there!” she ordered.


Jack quirked an eyebrow, but remained where he was while she ran back to find the abandoned blanket and wrap it around herself.


“I apologised for laughing at you Jack…and for taking your DIRTY breeches and WASHING them for you! Now it’s your turn.”


He gave her a puzzled look.


“My turn?”


“For an apology, Jack! For your behaviour last night.”


“My behaviour?” He stepped closer, his expression menacing. “Do you mean for giving ye an indecent amount of pleasure? You expect an apology for that? Most lasses would be on their knees thankin’ me!”


Elizabeth clenched her fists, the urge to slap his smug face almost irresistible.


“You have a very high opinion of yourself, Jack Sparrow. And that is not what I was referring to. Not that specifically, at least. It was the...the manner and circumstance that I object to.”


“Don’t you dare stop, you sexy pirate, don’t you dare!” Jack sang mockingly. “Mebbe you should have made yer protests a bit more like….well…protests, Miss Swann!”

Elizabeth snapped. Her hand met his cheek with enough force to make him stagger.

Before he had chance to recover she advanced on him, eyes blazing, her face only inches from his.

“You are despicable! How dare you! I made my objections quite clear, but you chose not to listen. You used your…your wicked wiles to coerce me….Pirate, indeed!”

Jack backed away, clutching his stinging cheek. Safely out of slapping rage, he crossed his arms and shook his head at her.

“You are more pirate than me, darlin’. Used me wicked wiles, did I? Coerced ye? Or did I just take me lead from you? Continuing on wiv what you started?”

“What? I didn’t start anything! It was you who –“

“Ah. But you did start it luv.”

His brow furrowed and he looked skywards, as though he were trying to work something out.

“Now who was it that came and sat beside me in the galley…in the comp’ny of half me men…and shoved their hand down me breeches? Who was that? Who used said hand til me pleasure – er – spilled over, so to speak? Knowin’ there were a whole gang o’ me crew watchin’ the whole thing? T’were’t Gibbs…or Marty….leastways I don’t think it was…”

Elizabeth’s face flushed with colour.

“Jack! I – yes. I was wrong to do that. But it isn’t the same!”

“Oh? How is it not the same?”

“Because you were…because….Well you weren’t half-naked for a start!”

“May as well have bin, luv. Have you any idea how hard it was to sit there an’ not show what I was feelin’? How much I wanted to throw yer on the floor and drive meself inside ye, no matter who were watchin’?”

She stared at him. Opened her mouth to speak – then closed it again, not sure what to say. Eyes the colour of bitter chocolate watched the emotions flicker across her face, reading her distress while sharing none of his own.

Finally she turned away.

“Where’y goin, Lizzie?”

“To dress.” she replied softly. “Within the hour, you said. I need to dress.”

She kept her back to him as she pulled on her clean but still wet clothes. He was watching her; she could sense his gaze on her. When she was done she swung round to face him – then felt her stomach clench in horror. She was alone. He had crept away without a word. Sadly Elizabeth looked back at the idyllic spot she’d fallen in love with the day before. It had lost all it’s charm. With a heavy heart she set off towards the beach.

Jack finished watering the tree and tucked himself back into his breeches. His expression determined, he stepped back out into the clearing.

“Right then, Miss….Oh.”

She had gone.

Thoughtfully Jack walked towards the edge of the pool. He’d made his point, turned her own complaints against her – but instead of satisfaction he’d been left with a feeling of unease and – although he was loathe to admit it – shame.

“Bloody well asked fer it!” he muttered. “Nothin’ to feel guilty fer, mate. Nothin’ at all.”

He knew he should head back, but solitude seemed infinitely more appealing in his current frame of mind. He contemplated for a moment, then nodded and began to strip.

The water was cold enough to steal his breath, and he welcomed the numbing sensation. Gratefully he plunged his head below the surface, staying under until his lungs were fit to burst then emerging with an almighty splash, spluttering and gasping for air. After a few more minutes he stood and waded to the far side of the pool, where a conveniently flat rock was partially submerged. He climbed up and sprawled across it on his back, feeling the sunlight kiss his face and upper body

The air was filled with scents and sounds of tropical life. Water lapped gently around him, it’s touch refreshing rather than chilling now his body had grown used to it, and the warm air gently caressed his exposed skin. It was an idyllic spot. Restful, calming – exactly the sort of place to drift away from your troubles and think of nothing and no one. The sort of place a man could come and be at one with the world and indulge himself in sensory pleasures.

Jack groaned. He felt uneasy and uncomfortable – and it had nothing to do with the hard stone beneath him. He raised his head a little and glared accusingly at his crotch.
“All your bloody fault!” he grumbled. “Couldn’t bloody wait, couldn’t bloody think of anything ‘cept getting what ye wanted.”

Sighing, he folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. Knowing that his remarks to her were valid did not make him feel any less guilty for using them against her. She had come such a long way since their first encounter – such a passionate and feisty lass, willing to try anything – in bed and out of it. She’d never refused him before – well, not seriously, he amended – and he loved her for it, for her bravery and strength, for her spirit and her……

“Wait.” Mentally he backtracked over his thoughts and stopped. Surely not. Had he just said that? Well not said, but thought, as it were? As if were the most natural thing in the world, not something he kept hidden in the depths of his soul, something he would never share or admit to? No. To do so would be madness. To admit that he – well, to admit THAT, even to himself, would make him vulnerable in a way that he’d never been before.

So…..why was he smiling? Why was the thought of her warming him inside, filling his heart with strength and purpose, a lightness he hadn’t felt in years?

Jack grinned, frowned and grinned again. He had no idea what – if anything – this revelation changed – and he certainly had no intention of sharing it with anyone, least of all the recipient of said feelings. Admitting it to himself was something he’d never envisioned doing, either, mind….so perhaps one day...if things went according to plan…..
His eyes flew open in sudden alarm. Was he really, seriously, lying here on this bit of rock and contemplating telling Lizzie that he……that he…..

He gulped nervously, his eyes darting left and right as though he sought a place to run, a sanctuary where these disturbing and disconcerting thoughts could not follow him.

Finally he closed his eyes again and sighed, defeated.

“Can’t run from this one, mate!” he whispered sadly, shaking his head. “Yer’ll not be escapin’ these shackles…”