Chosen Path

Barbossa contemplated Jack’s offer. Let Jack kill the whelp, thus freeing Elizabeth. It seemed a fair bargain, not remotely unappealing, but this was Jack, after all. “Turner keeps the key. I’m not sayin’ yes just yet, mind. But if I were, we’d have to chase the Dutchman.”



Jack’s voice buzzed in his ear. “Not a problem, mate. All it takes to draw the Dutchman is for someone to die at sea. And seeing as how we’re on the only ship what can outrun the Jolly Dutchman, all we’ll have to do is see to it that someone dies at sea in our relative vicinity. Shouldn’t be a problem for you, old friend.”



“Don’t do as much killin’ these days. Elizabeth…” He paused, not wanting to let on just how much her influence had affected his way of doing business. “Let’s just say it’s less messy to wave a gun around an’ take the goods.”



Jack’s half-squinting face appeared in Barbossa’s line of vision. “What’s she done to you, mate? First this,” Jack plucked at the sleeve of the green satin he still wore, “now you’ve stopped killing on top of it? Next you’ll be talking about settling down, raising a family.” Jack shuddered. “Terrible thought, that. Oh, but you already have, haven’t you? The kid yours?”



Barbossa rolled his eyes. “No, Jack. Call a son of mine William? No thank you. The boy’s a Turner.”



Jack’s lip twitched. “I’m not sure as that’s better.”



“Trust me t’is. Would you want to explain to the Dutchman’s Captain that his wife bore your child?” The hand on Barbossa’s shoulder stilled. “Now, if ye’d be so kind as to put those fingers to better use, help me get outta this damn thing?”



“Why Hector, I thought you’d never ask.”



Jack’s nimble fingers danced along his back and suddenly the pressure was relieved and he could breathe again. He was still fighting with the laces in the front of the dress when Jack’s hand reached around and worked them open. When he felt the warm contact of flesh on flesh, he stiffened.



“Sparrow, that had better not be your hand on me chest.”



“Am I interrupting?” Elizabeth slipped into the cabin, expression not nearly as confused as it ought to have been.



Jack jumped back and examined his hand, waggling his fingers as if to ensure they were all still there and functioning. “Sorry, mate. It’s just that normally when I’m removing a dress, I’m intending to be bedding the individual what’s wearing said dress.”



Elizabeth folded her arms. “No one’s bedding anyone here.”



“Not what I heard.”



Elizabeth fixed her glare on Barbossa. “You told him?”



“Didn’t have to.” Jack sauntered over to Elizabeth, running a hand lightly on her arm. “You’re not exactly subtle, darling, either of you.” Jack dropped into a chair and slung his feet over the side.



Elizabeth stared haughtily for a moment, then turned to Barbossa with a raised eyebrow. He raised his in return. Could she read his thoughts? As long as we’re unsubtle…let’s make him squirm, shall we?



Evidently she could, for she slid into his lap and finished undoing the laces for him. “Not the way I’m accustomed to undressing you, but I suppose it’s the same result in the end.” She slid the dress off his shoulders, then pulled him to his feet, letting the satin drop as she helped him pull the cotton underdress over his head. He was suddenly grateful she had allowed him to keep his breeches on under the dress, so he was at least clothed from the waist down.



And from the waist up, Elizabeth was taking advantage of his lack of clothedness, much to Jack’s obvious displeasure. He grinned and pulled her close as her hands traveled up his bare chest to twist around his neck. He nudged her forehead with his nose and she nibbled at his lower lip. After more than a year together, she knew exactly how to drive him mad with desire.



And he her. Growling softly, he twisted his fingers in her hair, slipping his other hand beneath her shirt. She inhaled audibly as he ran his fingers over the soft skin at her waist.



“Right then, don’t mind me.” Jack’s leg dangled idly over the side of the chair and he lifted a bottle to his lips.



“Don’t mind ye at all.”



Elizabeth shifted in his arms and noticed Jack with the wine bottle. She marched over to him and snatched it from his hands.



“Darling, I’ve evidently been four years without a drink. Please don’t deprive a man so starved.”



“Starved for food too, by the looks of you. You should eat something. There’s plenty of food in the galley and rum in the hold, Jack, I’m sure it’s more to your taste than the wine.”



“You’re just trying to get rid of me so you can,” Jack waved his hands at the two of them, then finished his sentence with a noise of disgust.



Elizabeth smiled as she brought the bottle to her lips. “Just trying to save the wine for those of us with more sophisticated tastes.” She took a swig, then passed it to Barbossa. He accepted it gladly, slipping a possessive arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders.



Jack’s gaze followed the wine bottle as it moved between them. When Elizabeth turned to return the bottle to its place on the table, Jack let his eyes roam Barbossa’s semi-nude form. Barbossa sighed. After all the concern he’d had that Jack would be after Elizabeth, and the man barely seemed to notice her decidedly more appealing, if more covered, form. But then, there had always been something a bit queer about Sparrow.



Jack’s disturbing gaze hovered at his midsection. Why had Elizabeth chosen now to perch on the table instead of shielding him from unwanted attention. He was almost glad for his curse now; wouldn’t want Sparrow to get the wrong idea. But Sparrow, evidently, had ideas of his own. “What happened to you, mate?”



Inwardly, Barbossa cursed his failure to bandage his side properly. “T’is but a flesh wound. Heal up in a few days. I’ll be fine.” Still, it was rather uncomfortable having so many eyes on him. He made his way to his trunk to replace his shirt and waistcoat.



Jack’s voice followed him across the cabin. “Don’t look fine. Looks bloody awful.”



“It’s cursed, Jack.” Barbossa turned in time to see Elizabeth grab Jack’s arm, drawing his attention at last. “It’s why we need the charts.”



Barbossa felt his eyes roll upward. Had she learned nothing of bargaining in all their years together? He strode back to the table, easing into his chair. “Elizabeth…”



She gasped slightly, realizing her mistake. Which only made it all the more obvious to Sparrow.



“Ah, suddenly your need is greater than mine. Hector, you’ve heard my terms, take them or leave them.”



“Terms?” Elizabeth glanced between the men. “What terms?”



“Those were between Sparrow and meself.”



“Oh, no.” Elizabeth rounded on him. “The last time you made a bargain without me, I was nearly killed! You’ll not settle on terms without my involvement.” She whirled to face Jack. “What is it you want with the charts?”



“Why should I tell you that? Wouldn’t seem to be in my best interests to divulge any extraneous information.”



“It’s not extraneous.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “If what you seek is what we seek, then we can all seek together, and bypass terms and bargains altogether.” Barbossa raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t a half bad plan, but it lacked the advantage of dispatching Turner.



Jack rose from his chair. “And if I were disinclined to share?”



Elizabeth strode across the cabin to stand before Jack, eyes blazing. “Jack, we need the charts. If he dies,” Elizabeth’s hand pointed behind her, “because of your stubborn negligence, so help me, I will kill you. Again. And you can hope that my husband will be more merciful than Jones, but I rather doubt it. Especially if I ask him not to be.”



Barbossa didn’t particularly appreciate the mention of her husband, but she would go so far as to kill Jack? On his account? Barbossa smiled. He knew there was a reason he loved this woman.



Jack, though, appeared irritatingly unfazed. “And how will your husband feel after he hears about your little liaison with the illustrious Captain Barbossa?”



Elizabeth flinched, but after the briefest of instants, her face was set again. Barbossa wasn’t sure what he expected her to say, nor what he could say, as Jack had a fair point, but the last thing he expected was for Elizabeth to turn her back on Sparrow, climb into his own lap, and press an unusually exploratory kiss to his lips.



“Will comes back in six years. He doesn’t expect me to cloister myself in the meantime. I’m quite certain he expects as much.” Elizabeth had either had an abrupt and significant change of heart in recent weeks, or she was bluffing.



Barbossa wrapped his arms around her, and she nestled satisfyingly against his chest. Sparrow continued to flit about the cabin. “Suppose I were to share me charts. Take you with me to the Fountain. What happens then? You all go back to the Pearl. I still have no ship.”



“Is that what you wanted? A ship?”



“Aye, those be the aforementioned terms.” Barbossa willed Jack to catch his meaning. As long as Elizabeth didn’t ask which specific ship he wanted, there was no lie in this.



Jack was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He nodded slowly. “You get me a ship, I’ll give up the charts.”



“Charts first. We sail together to the Fountain. Then we’ll find you your ship.”



“Ask me, we’re on my ship. But as I appear to be outnumbered on that issue, I’ll settle for another. Get me a ship, and I’ll lead you to the Fountain.”



Elizabeth chewed her lip, then shifted in Barbossa’s arms. She combed his hair back and leaned close, speaking for his ears only. “I don’t like it. But there’s no ship as can match the Pearl for speed. He won’t be able to lose us.”



“Don’t underestimate Sparrow’s knack for losing things.” Sparrow was presently hovering a bit too close to the Dead Man’s Chest for Barbossa’s liking. Elizabeth hadn’t noticed yet, and he preferred not to draw her attention to it. Jack’s plan depended on her ignorance of it.



“Good point.” She raised her head. “Jack. We’ll get you a ship, you give us the charts, and we lead you to the Fountain.”



“Seems a fair deal, what say you Hector? Get me my ship, then I’ll give up the charts, we’ll all go on our merry ways. Er, way. Same way.”



“One more thing, Jack.” Elizabeth rose from his lap. “We have no way of knowing you won’t just run off with the charts tonight. I’d like a good faith payment.”



Jack frowned, drawing back. “Seems it should be you paying me.”



She advanced on Jack, hips swaying in an irritatingly alluring manner. Using her feminine wiles was all well and good, but it was bad enough sharing her affections with the Turner whelp. He was not inclined to watch her flirt with Sparrow. “Payment in advance for a ship. That’s no small prize, Jack, and takes us out of our way. Delays us on our quest, and we haven’t much time.”



Jack threw a smirk in Barbossa’s direction before turning his attention back to Elizabeth. “What might I offer you then, my King?”



Elizabeth’s hand trailed seductively along Sparrow’s waist. Barbossa noticed his own hand on his pistol and wondered when he had moved it. Elizabeth’s hand stilled and she smiled at Jack. “Your compass.”



Jack shrugged and pulled it from his belt. “Won’t do you much good, I imagine.” She snatched it and closed her eyes for a moment, then opened it. Jack peered over the top and frowned. Barbossa couldn’t resist. What was it Elizabeth Swann Turner wanted most?



He leaned over her shoulder and felt his eyes narrow at the needle pointed unwaveringly towards Sparrow. Elizabeth glared at Jack, who slid a few steps to his right. The compass needle followed his every move.



“It’s the charts. They’re in your coat, aren’t they? That’s what I want most.” Elizabeth shut the compass and pointed to the table. “Put them down.” At Jack’s twitch she rolled her eyes. “Just for a moment.” He obeyed, then moved a few steps aside as she waved him away. When she opened the compass again, the needle pointed only to the table.



Jack stepped slowly from the table, and made a cautious revolution around Elizabeth, but the needle remained motionless. Elizabeth herself took a few steps to the left, but the needle adjusted to point steadfastly to the charts.



“You’re right. It only points to the charts.”



Barbossa sidestepped Jack and wrapped his arms around her. “What yeh want most be the Fountain, not the charts to get yeh there. Eye on the prize, Captain Swann.”



Elizabeth leaned against him ever so slightly as she breathed slowly, eyes closed. He watched the compass needle shift until it pointed just west of north. “That’s me girl.”



“Curious.” Jack settled into his Captain’s chair, tucking the charts back into his coat. “Here I expected it to point to dear William.”



Elizabeth glared and snapped the compass shut. “We’ll find you a ship. Not the Pearl.” So she had learned something of bargaining. “Then you give over the charts, and I’ll return your compass.”



Sparrow nodded and held out her hand. “Not the Pearl. Do we have an accord?”



“That sounds fair.” Elizabeth turned over her shoulder. “Hector?”



Barbossa ran a finger along Elizabeth’s neck. It was a dangerous thing, having her here. He’d grown far too accustomed to her, far too fond of her presence. He’d been a man of the sea before he’d even become a man; consistency in lovers had never been a luxury afforded to him. Never before had he lived with a woman – the same woman – by his side for as long as a year. And damn it all but he liked it.



He liked knowing there would be a warm body in his bed, whether or not her presence led to anything more than sleeping. He liked that she had taken the time to learn his body, learn what pleased him, and let him do the same to her. He liked the way she fit neatly into his arms, how tenderly she held him at night. He liked their conversations, her clever scheming, and the way he could always count on her to be exactly where he needed her in battle. He hadn’t meant to fall in love with her, but it had happened, and it was a bloody glorious feeling.



And yet, it was a bloody awful feeling. Because in six years, she would be gone, and it somehow didn’t feel like nearly enough time to have her. Before her, he’d be lucky to spend six days in the company of one woman. But he’d had nearly two years with her, more than half that time as her lover, and damned but he wanted to keep her.



She was happy with him. It was clear every day in her sunny laughter, passionate kisses, and fierce loyalty. It was clear in the way she nestled against him as he held her, the way she said his name at night. She would never admit to loving him, not as long as Turner lived. But surely she did.



It would hurt her, true, to remove Will Turner, but her situation was utterly unfair. She deserved to have a husband who could be with her, hold her at night, teach her son how to be a man. She deserved the freedom of a ship, the freedom to go as she pleased and not be tied down to a curse. In the end, he would make her happier than she could ever be with Will Turner, and she would thank him for it.



Barbossa placed a kiss on the top of Elizabeth’s head and looked back to Jack, still awaiting his response. He gave a single, shallow nod. “Aye. We have an accord.”



Elizabeth gave his hand a quick shake, but Jack’s eyes over her head agreed only to that which remained unspoken in her presence. Barbossa gave another short nod, and pulled Elizabeth against him as she released Sparrow’s hand.



Jack patted his coat and tipped his hat. “Now, I believe you mentioned rum in the hold. You know where to find me, when you get that ship of mine.”



Barbossa breathed a soft sigh into Elizabeth’s hair, wishing his body would be a bit more responsive to her nearness. It wouldn’t be long now, but it was terribly frustrating in the meantime.



As the door clicked closed, Elizabeth twisted in his arms and pulled him down for a lingering kiss. Kissing was still pleasant enough, and he closed his eyes, willing his body to react. A low burn in the pit of his stomach, but little more. Damn.



“Mmm, Hector. My dear, clever, deceptive Hector.” Elizabeth twined her fingers through her hair. “Just what exactly did we just agree to?”



Barbossa cleared his throat. “Exactly what yeh said. Get him a ship, he gives over the charts.”



“Yes, that’s what was said. But what wasn’t said, I wonder. What haven’t you told me?”



Damn, but she was a clever one, was his Elizabeth. “Cariño.” He slid his hand along her back. “Do ye not trust me?”



“I don’t trust Jack.”



He smiled. “Ah, well, I can’t argue with reason.”



Elizabeth smiled and leaned into his neck, thumbs playing along his cheeks. It would have been far more tantalizing a few months ago. Now it was merely pleasant. Damn wound.



“Can I trust you?”



She was far too suspicious. Of course, he hadn’t actually agreed to anything besides what was said. The words were unspoken, therefore no contract was made. So in truth, if Jack went through with his plan, Barbossa’s hands were clean. “Aye.”



She kissed him again, slowly, deeply. Their ridiculous bet had lasted for far too long; he had missed touching her so desperately. She drew back and took his hands in hers. “Sit with me for a moment? We’ve something to discuss. Without Jack.”



He frowned and let her lead him to the sofa. What plans were in her clever mind? She insinuated herself into his embrace, holding his arms around her waist. For a time, she just rested there, leaning against his shoulder. He couldn’t complain, but he was feeling a bit edgy about leaving Sparrow unguarded on his ship, and surely she needed to attend Billy by now.



“Well? What was it yeh be needin’ to discuss?”



She took a deep breath. “Yes. Well. I’m not quite sure how to say this.”



Say what? He turned her to face him. Where would this conversation go? Would he finally hear the words he’d longed for from her? Was she finally ready to let Turner go, admit that she loved him? Or was she going the other way? Was she ending things? There was worry in her face, in her eyes, but she had kissed him so sweetly, threatened Jack’s life for him. Surely she couldn’t be ending things. Surely not.



Before she could assuage his doubts, a sudden shout of “ship ahoy!” on the deck sent them both jumping to their feet. Barbossa pushed the troubling thoughts from his mind, and stalked out of the cabin, Elizabeth scurrying at his heels.



Jack stood at the helm, spyglass in hand, watching as they slowly closed the distance to the ship sailing in front of them. Was it to be now then? Already? Something distasteful settled in the pit of his stomach as he limped up the stairs after Elizabeth.



“What do you think, Lizzie, shall we attack that fine ship there?”



Elizabeth borrowed Jack’s spyglass to inspect the ship. “She’s ripe for attack. Are you certain you want her?”



“She’s a good starter ship. You do want the charts in a hurry, do you not?”



“Yes, that is true,” Elizabeth agreed, then turned to Barbossa. “Hoist the colors?”



“A bit closer first. Ye know that.”



“Of course I do. I was simply trying to ascertain whether you were in agreement with our assessment of the situation, Captain.”



He let his lips twist into the bastardization of a smile that came whenever there were wicked deeds to be done. “Coax some speed from those sails, gents! It be time to replenish our supplies.”



The crew gave a cheer and stepped to, and Elizabeth found Billy on deck and caught Barbossa’s eye for just a moment, before disappearing below with him.



When he finally turned away from watching her go, Jack was caressing the helm a bit overfondly. “Just a bit longer, mate, she’s all yours.”



“She’s already mine, Jack.” He pushed Jack from the helm and took it firmly in his own grip.



“The Pearl? That’s arguable. But I meant Elizabeth.”



“Someone’ll need to carve yer heart out when it’s done, Jack. That a sacrifice yer prepared to make?”



Jack shrugged. “S’not like I need it much. As I’ve oft said, my first and only love is the sea. Seems only right that I should give my heart to her.”



Barbossa kept his gaze steady on the horizon and the ship that grew steadily larger. He tried not to worry over his own heart. Elizabeth carried some secret, no question, and the not knowing was going to drive him mad.



It was more than he had time to consider, though, for they approached the merchant ship with speed, and they soon raised the jolly rogers – his own and Elizabeth’s, flying together on the mizzen mast.



Attacking this ship in the Southern Caribbean proved more challenging than attacking in the South China Sea had been. There, the Pearl and Empress had been well-known; they could rely on their reputations to encourage surrender without any undue violence.



Not that Barbossa had ever been unwilling to kill when necessary. It just hadn’t been necessary in some time.



The men and women of the Pearl swung across to the merchant ship, brandishing swords and pistols. Each found a merchant to hold hostage while Barbossa approached, seeking the Captain.



The other Captain met him with steel drawn. “The Black Pearl, eh? I ‘eard o’ yeh. Cap’n Barbossa an’ his Bonny Swann. Where is she, though? Always wanted to get a glimpse o’ something so fine as she’s said to be.”



Barbossa glanced to his right where Elizabeth ought to have been, but there was only Jack, swaying slightly as he hung back near the rail. Barbossa recovered from his surprise at not seeing her, but the hesitation was enough to give the merchant crew an edge, and the other Captain came at him with his sword.



Barbossa parried, vaguely aware of the two crews jumping into action. He instinctively positioned himself between his enemy and Elizabeth-who-was-not-there, and hoped to high heaven Jack remembered well enough to cover his back instead.



The other Captain was a passable swordsman, and though his skills were no match for Barbossa’s, he used his youth to his advantage. Barbossa debated killing the man outright, but if Jack intended to keep the ship, it should be him that did it. But then, Jack had another agenda, and it might be preferable to simply stick this Captain in his own brig for a time, until Jack left to claim the Dutchman.



If Barbossa could disarm him, that was, and he was proving a more venerable opponent than Barbossa had initially judged. The man advanced on him. Damn, but he wasn’t used to fighting to disarm. His hand twitched at his belt as he waited for Jack to make a move that did not come. Barbossa dared a glance at the Pearl and saw Elizabeth at last, standing on the rail, pistol aimed roughly at the other Captain.



“Elizabeth! Could use a little help over here!”



Elizabeth grabbed the rope Jack swung to her, hesitated a moment, then flew to the side of the merchant vessel. Her pistol shot rang out before she had even steadied herself, and the other Captain crumbled to his feet. So much for that debate.



“Captain’s dead!” The words echoed throughout the merchant crew. The sailors faltered in their battle, allowing the Pearl’s crew to easily claim weapons, or threaten throats and heads with swords and pistols.



“Yes, your Captain is dead!” Elizabeth’s voice rang out over the lingering scuffles on deck. “Captain Sparrow here will lead this ship to Tortuga. From there, you may stay or go as you will. If it is freedom you want, to sail the seas and do as you please, then you are welcome with us. If not, then fair winds to you all.”



Barbossa gave a surreptitious nod to Pintel and Ragetti, who shackled their captive to the rail and ducked into the hold. They were crafty enough to plunder enough of the ship to give the Pearl an advantage, without bleeding her dry, just in case Jack actually intended to keep her.



Jack dropped to the deck. “Right, what she said.” He sauntered across the deck, examining his new crew. “Well, you’re all sailors. Get to work, the lot of you!”



Barbossa took stock of the situation. The Pearl’s crew was intact; Marty and Mulroy were hauling the merchant Captain overboard while the others sheathed their weapons and returned to the Pearl. Pintel and Ragetti flashed winks at the Captain, breeches bulging with pilfered treasure.



The merchant crew stepped slowly into action, adjusting the sails. Jack hadn’t called specific orders; did he plan to wait out the Dutchman? Barbossa glanced around him. Elizabeth’s hand fell on Jack’s shoulder as he meandered past her. He turned, and she dangled his compass before him. “Our bargain?”



“What bargain?”



“Jack.” She cocked her head. “You agreed to hand over the charts when we got you a ship.”



“No I didn’t.”



“Yes you did!”



Barbossa strode over. “Jack. Give o’er the charts, Jack.”



“This,” Jack spread his arms, “is a starter ship. When I get the ship I really want, I’ll hand over the charts.”



“And what ship do you really want, Jack?”



Jack’s mustache twitched. “Not this old rag. Got to be something better in Tortuga. You’ll get your charts then.”



“That’s not good enough! We haven’t the time to waste whiling away the days in Tortuga while you wait for the perfect ship!” She grabbed the lapel of Jack’s coat. “We need the charts and we need them now.”



Jack glanced at her hand and pulled her wrist away. “Well that’s not really my problem, now is it?”



Barbossa came around his back, hand once again twitching at his belt. “We could make it yer problem.”



Jack ignored him, and shook his head. “Find me a ship I really want, and you’ll get your charts.”



Elizabeth crossed her arms. “And how shall I do that ? I can’t just make the perfect ship materialize out of thin air!”



As if in response, the sea stirred, and the ship Jack so desired began to materialize.



Barbossa heard the commotion from the Pearl’s crew as the ghost ship reared from the ocean. “Ship ahoy! Orders, Captain? It’s the Dutchman!”



The merchant sailors scrambled, cowering, but the crew of the Pearl rushed to the side to see the legendary ship, her Captain, or to hear Barbossa’s orders. The Flying Dutchman had once struck fear into the hearts of all men and women on board the Pearl, but they all knew the story now, knew or knew of the Dutchman’s current Captain. Barbossa opened his mouth to speak, but Elizabeth, charts forgotten, ran for the rail and called orders over her shoulder.



“Hold steady! We rendezvous!”