What she really wants?

Authors note:

I couldn't think of a title for this chapter, so yeah...it's Chapter two people! But if I do, I'm gonna change it. This chapter is quite long, I was going to split it up but it looked to short that way. Let me know what you think! Thankyou for the reviews I have received, they were very encouraging! :)


She couldn't stand it; the silence, the lonliness. It was just too much! Lizzie was sat in the cabin which had once belonged to Anamaria. The cabin was tiny, barely enough space to move with the bed, the desk and her own trunk in there. But Lizzie didn't mind, anything was better than below deck. She didn't think she could stand another night of accusing looks, apprehensive stares, fearful glances. Recently, at the last port, Jack had acquired several new crew members. Most of them seemed content with having a female aboard, however a select few disagreed.

"Bad luck to have a woman aboard" one muttered, unaware that Lizzie could hear him.
"Useless on a ship, females!" another agreed. Usually she wouldn't mind but today...she just couldn't handle it. She stared around her cabin regrettably and another wave of lonliness hit her like the icy spray of the sea had done so, so many times before. She needed him. She needed Jack. She needed to make him understand, understand she wasn't trying to play games with him, irritate him, embarrass him. She didn't expect him to understand though, after all, she didn't understand herself!

Lizzie lifted her hand to the desk, weaving it inbetween several empty rum bottles, in an attempt to find the only one with any of the vile liquid left in it. Vile liquid indeed! She knew that her rum intake was dangerously high, but she didn't care. She had thought the more rum she devoured, the more she would forget. Wrong. Damn liquid, it always seemed to help Jack. Why did he drink it so much? She couldn't stop thinking now, and she desperately wanted to speak to Jack. Unfortunately, it was very late, probably around two in the morning and she assumed Jack would be sleeping. Instead, it came to her in a flash. She got up, turned to her trunk and began rummaging through it excitedly...


Jack was staring, staring at the waves crashing against the ship. Itt had become one of his favorite past times as of lately. Nothing was unusual about this particular scenario, except the absence of a rum bottle. Captain Sparrow, the most fearsome pirate in the Caribbean, was sober. It didn't feel great, but it was necessary. Don't want to be getting meself into anymore tricky situations, he thought grimly, his mind showing flashes of the previous night. Lizzie. Rum. The kiss. No! He shook his head desperately, blanking out the images whizzing round and round in his head. He tried to concerntrate on their heading which, up until recently, had been nowhere. After leaving Will in Port Royal when he had broken off his engagement to Lizzie, the Pearl had headed south. They had no where to go. No adventures, nothing. It was only several days ago that Jack had demanded they go visit Tia Dalma. There wasn't a particular reason for Jack's choice except he knew Davy Jones was still after him after learning he was alive. If anybody knew how to stop Jones, it was Tia. Jack suddenly stood upright, he was sick of doing nothing, he was sick of waiting around and he was sick of wondering what Lizzie's problem was. Keeping as calm as he could, he strode towards Lizzie's room and, without thinking, barged into her room.


"Sorry bout this, lo..." Jack started, but stopped immediately when he looked around her cabin. It was empty. "Where is she?" he wondered to himself. Getting some air? He was about to turn around when he caught sight of the small desk that was crammed into the tiny space. It was covered in bloody rum bottles. Empty ones! There had to be about four or five of them, all staggered across the wood. Jack grimaced to himself and believed that Lizzie was the most confusing female he had ever met. Him mind, against his will, rewound suddenly back to a beach. With a cetain young lady on it...

She was beautiful, he acknowledged. Her golden hair sparkled from the Caribbean sun. She was angry, that he was certain of. Her eyes flashed and her cheeks were flushed, her face screwed up in frustration. "Why was the rum gone?" he had asked. Lizzie felt like banging her head against something hard. Wasn't it obvious?

"ONE! Because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels" she screeched, causing Jack to step back slightly in fear.


Jack smiled warmly, the memory making him chuckle to himself. Oh the irony! He thought, staring at the rum bottles. He was just about to leave when something on the desk caught his eye. Something concise and dainty. He reached for it, it was barely bigger than his palm. It was a book of some sort, with a soft black cover. It looked old, the pages slightly yellowed. He found it intruiging. As he began flicking absent-mindedly through the pages his eyes began to widen. He dropped the book as though it was red hot. This wasn't a book; it was a journal!