Unforgivable

Thnaks once again for the lovely reviews, guys!! They are, as always, much appreciated. And now on with the show...er, story, I mean!!!


“Good morning, Jack.”

“Go away.”

“Yes it IS a lovely day, isn’t it? And I slept very well, thank you for asking.”

Ebony-dark eyes shot her a baleful glare.

“Why aren’t ye in the brig, evil wench?”

“Because none of the crew were paying any attention when you gave that order. They were too busy watching their illustrious Captain descend the ropes in all his naked glory.”

“Mutinous buggers,” he grumbled. “I’ll flog the lot of ‘em. And as fer you missy…”

“As for me, you’ll forgive me and admit that my little trick was well-deserved. Just as soon as you’ve finished sulking.”

“No I bloody won’t, and m’not sulking. I NEVER sulk.”

“So I see. When do we begin those lessons you promised me?”

“Right after ye’ve spent an hour or two strapped naked to th’bowsprit.”

“Oh I’m sure that would be very inducive to childbearing. Or did I miss that particular piece of advice from our trusty midwife?”

“Shackled naked to th’mainmast then. Or even th’rail. M’willin’ to negotiate terms.”

“Very generous of you, I’m sure. But what of the intense pain resulting from such a course of action?”

“Pain?”

“Oh trust me Jack, it would be intensely painful. Afterwards. For YOU.”

The glare he gave her would have crushed a lesser adversary on the spot. But Elizabeth merely grinned.

With a long, tortured groan, he slumped back in the chair and rolled his eyes.

“If I was t’give ye an hour’s worth of me precious an’ very expert knowledge, THEN would ye go away?”

“I might.”

“Ye’d better sit down then. An’ don’t talk anymore! It hurts me ears.”

“Yes, Captain,” she smirked, and slid adroitly into his lap.


Groaning again, he reached for the sextant.


The lesson did not go quite as Jack had planned.

Maintaining an appropriate air of grumpy aloofness grew harder by the second – as, indeed, did he, thanks to the duplicitously delicious rear squirming against him. Hurt pride and desire fought a brief battle; but the latter’s victory was, he soon decided, an inescapable and foregone conclusion.

Elizabeth looked down at his wandering hands with a knowing smirk.

“How will doing that advance my studies, exactly?”

“It’ll teach ye all about cause an’ effect, me girl. See, when I do this,” - his fingers crept under her shirt – “this happens. Cause an’ effect. Savvy?”

“Yes I see,” she murmured, feeling her nipples peak and tingle under his palm. “So what happens if I reach down and touch you – just - here?”

“It’ll lead to a lesson in mappin’, luv.” His balls throbbed pleasantly in her cupped hand and he loosened her grip with a regretful sigh. “But ye’re wearin’ a deplorable amount of clothin’ fer it. Let’s see’f we can remedy that situation, shall we…?”


It was a slow, meticulous and very thorough lesson. Jack demonstrated the art of mapping with fingers, lips and tongue; exploring every inch of her in a dizzying, relentless assault. And by the time it was done, his pupil sprawled across the desk in gasping, satiated abandonment, he felt mildly surprised to see the buttons of his breeches hadn’t burst open by themselves under the pressure of what they contained.

A moment’s urgent fumbling remedied that situation, and he spilled out with a grateful moan.

“Now,” he hissed, moaning again as he slid into her moist heat, “S’time t’find out what happens when I do this…”

Bought to the brink of orgasm by her pleasure, it did not take long to discover what they already knew. Two thrusts, three; another and another and another. Muscles snapped taut and quivering as it began to crash over him; an ecstatic groan dragged from deep in his throat – and the glorious tension erupted from his body in a pulsing wave of heat, filling her and filling her until he was drained and exhausted.


When Jack finally found the strength to open his eyes, he was greeted by a rather smug grin.

“I knew you’d forgive me.”

“Don’t recall sayin’ I did.”

Braids and beads caressed her stomach and thighs as he leant over to nuzzle her breasts; then he laid his head between them with a soft, contented sigh.

A few minutes later she gave him a gentle shake.

“Don’t fall asleep! This desk doesn’t make a terribly comfortable bed you know, and there’s something crumpled right under my…”

“Map!”

He levered himself hastily upright and stepped back, grimacing slightly as her body relinquished his.

“Bugger,” he grunted. “S’ruined!”

Elizabeth sat up to look, eliciting a squeak of alarm.

“No! Don’t move! Don’t - don’t leak! – Yer makin’ it worse!”

“Well it’s not MY mess!” she said rather huffily as he hauled her non-too-gently to her feet.

“S’your bloody fault, though. Go on! Shoo! Go get dressed, ye pestiferous pest. Leave me poor map be.”

“Still not MY mess!” Sniffing haughtily, she stalked – or rather, staggered – in the direction of the bunk.

Jack poked his tongue out at her retreating back then turned to assess the damage.
Muttering crossly, he swiped at the sticky puddle, smudging the ink further and gaining a damp, black-streaked sleeve.

“Hopeless,” he muttered, shaking his head, and gave the culprit a reproachful glare as he tucked it back inside his breeches. “Couldn’t bleedin’ wait ‘til ye got her to th’bunk, could ye? Always so bloody impatient!”

He glanced towards Elizabeth, but she did not respond. Indeed, she appeared to have forgotten his presence, and was staring with rapt attention at the damp rag wadded in her hand.


“Lizzie? What’re ye doin’, luv?”

She started at the sound of her name, then looked up and grinned, a little sheepishly.

“Oh…nothing. I was just…checking, that’s all.”

“Checking fer what, exactly?”

Pacing towards her, he took the rag from her unresisting fingers and peered at it curiously. It showed nothing beyond the traces of his own release; and he dropped it with a puzzled frown.

“I was looking for – well, you know. My courses should have resumed by now.”

“Ah.” He sank down beside her, looping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “An’ yer feelin’ rough from it, are ye?”

“Yes, very. I’m so tired of feeling ill, Jack! My breasts ache, my stomach hurts and I feel so – so –”

“Cantankerous? Exceptionally stubborn an’ a bloody nightmare t’live wiv? Can’t say as I’ve noticed overmuch.”

This comment gained him a derisive snort and a sharp poke in the ribs.

“Horrible man. I haven’t been THAT bad.”

“Well ye’ve not fed me t’any more beasties of late so I s’pose I can afford t’be magnanimous.”

“How very sweet of you!”

“Isn’t it, though?”

He grinned, but his attention was elsewhere; his gaze wandering over her body so intently that it made her a little nervous.

“Jack, why are you-?”

“Shhh! M’thinkin’.”

Alarm bells were ringing in his head. Had been ringing, he realised suddenly, somewhere deep in his subconscious, for a few weeks now. The lines and curves of her body were almost as familiar to him as those of his own; how could he not have seen it before? He’d noticed, of course, the swollen, heavy feel of her breasts and had put it down, like her, to the imminent arrival of her monthlies. But that wouldn’t account for the subtle darkening of those rosy-pink nipples, or the fine tracery of blue veins, barely perceptible, beneath the smooth white skin.

Thoughtfully he cupped each breast in turn, then slid his palm lower, letting it rest over the slight swell of her belly.

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, his silent scrutiny making her uneasy.

“What? Jack tell me, for goodness sake –“

He looked up then, and the expression in those nearly black eyes shocked her into silence.

“We’ve done it, luv.”

“We - what?”

“Got the job done a while back, I’d say - ye must be a month or so along.”

The meaning of his words struck Elizabeth with the force of a blow.

“You – you – are you saying I’m – but – but I CAN’T be! It’s not possible, I’ve not even started my courses again –”

“They’ll not be back fer a good few months. We bloody well did it, darlin’!”

Joy and disbelief danced in his eyes; he looked, she thought abstractedly, as though someone had simultaneously slapped his face and handed him a piece of much coveted treasure.

“But – but – how can you tell?”

“Can sense it, Lizzie. Don’t rightly know HOW I know – but I do.”

She stared at him, hope fluttering in her chest. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might already be carrying his child – that all her recent discomfort and restlessness could be the result of a new life taking shape, somewhere deep inside her. But the certainty in that dark gaze was infectious; the presence of their unborn child something she suddenly, instinctively knew.

“He’s there, Lizzie.” Jack’s voice was gentle; his fingers soft and sure as they stroked her belly “Right there under me hand, right now, safe an’ snug. He’s -” Abruptly his eyes widened. “Bloody buggerin’ HELL, Elizabeth! Y’know what this means, don’t ye? M’gonna be a – me – I’ll be a – a-”

“A father, Jack,” she finished, tears flooding her eyes. “You’re going to be a father.”

She clung to him then, or he clung to her; she wasn’t entirely sure. Disbelief, wonderment and fear fought for precedence in her dazzled mind. The thing she’d spent so many hours longing for was finally, incredibly here; she was carrying Jack’s child, would give it life – would be its mother.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, hardly aware that she’d spoken aloud.

He raised his head then, and gave her a lopsided grin.

“No need, luv. M’scared enough fer both of us. Luckily I happen to know the best remedy for such ailments, though… ”

The bottle he kept beside the bunk was still half-full; he snatched it up, sniffed appreciatively and took a hearty swig before pressing it into her hand.

“Drink up, luv. It’ll do ye good.”

“Do you really think so? You know I’ve not had much taste for it, of late…”

“Nonsense! S’just the medicine ye need, darlin’, I swear - ye’ll feel much better fer it.”

Still looking doubtful, she raised the bottle to her lips.

Jack’s approving smile froze on his lips as she instantly thrust it away again, her eyes wide with horror.

“Wha-?” he began, then flinched as her half-digested breakfast spattered the front of his shirt.

Elizabeth was mortified.

“I – oh god!” she stuttered, “I’m so sorry!”

“S’alright.” Sighed, he plucked the soiled material away from his skin and tried not to grimace. “Couldn’t be helped. S’pose this means yer rum drinkin’ days are over fer a while, though.”

“Well I did try to warn you…here- let me help –”

“No, I’ll see to it. Ye should sit quiet a minute – are ye feelin’ better now?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

Ignoring his protests, Elizabeth stripped him of the ruined shirt, then fetched the bowl of water she’d used to wash with that morning. “I felt fine before too. It was the smell - there was no warning – it just – well, happened.”

“Aye, I spotted that too.”

She dipped a clean rag into the bowl and rubbed it briskly across his chest, provoking a sharp cry of protest.

“Bloody hell that’s cold! Leave me be, ye cruel wench! Wasn’t that warm bath ye just gave me torture enough?”

“Oh for goodness sake! You do it then, while I find another shirt.”

Dry and dressed again, Jack steered a rather pale Elizabeth back towards the bunk.

“Yer t’lie here an’ rest quiet,” he told her sternly. “I’ve work t’do in here, so I can keep an eye on ye. Now don’t move! Savvy?”

“Savvy,” she mumbled, eyes already drifting shut. These unexpected waves of exhaustion were becoming more frequent of late, and the idea of doing anything more strenuous than breathing was suddenly too exhausting to contemplate.

Jack smiled, and bent down to brush his lips softly across her cheek.

“Good girl.”

Then he returned to his charts, gazing at them unseeing as visions of a tawny-haired child with rum-coloured eyes spun endlessly through his head.