In The Nick Of Time

Again, to all who have left reviews: DesiringPirates, MoeSparrow, UnknownSoldier, QueenofheGeeks (thanks for the yelling!lol), IrishGrl, Ziva and Rejerito: More thanks than I could put on this page! I hope this chapter pleases as well! But then, I’m sure you’ll tell me.lol

Elizabeth had screamed her last within the smoke filled brig. Her hands had been pounded numb and so had her feet; now her throat was sore and her voice so hoarse that she was certain the pirate whose face had suddenly appeared looking down at her from the hazy hatch did not hear or see her when she’d demanded to see his Captain. The pirate had disappeared in an instant, and now here she was, exhausted and alone, and locked within the brig, not yet sure of what Captain she’d even demanded to see.

Smoke from the guns and several small fires was beginning to waft down through the hatch, choking her further and blocking out her view of whom or what was passing by above deck and their view of her. Damn this smoke! She sighed, felt herself heave as if a torrid of tears were about to be released and she sank to her knees, biting her lower lip and squeezing her eyes shut, determined not to cry. Where was Jack? Please, how could she suffer for so long, abandon her father, fiancé and life for the pursuit of true love, only to miss it by such a close margin? She’d wanted to find a pirate captain; now why couldn’t he find her?

And suddenly there was another danger added to her predicament. Elizabeth noticed that her knees were becoming wet. She looked down, picking up the skirts of her dress and finding that they were sopping with water, water that was gushing through the floorboards of the Stalwart and quickly measuring itself against the corridor walls; one inch, two inches, three inches and gaining. The smoke concealed brig was now more than a heartbreaking annoyance. It was a death trap!

She jumped to her feet immediately, trying to yell for help, trying to attract attention, kicking at the iron gate once more to attract attention, but the water was now up passed her ankles and it swallowed the dull thud of the metal being struck. Her voice failed her as well, for her vocal cords were so worn. She climbed higher on the iron gate, thinking maybe she could pound on the ceiling of the brig, hoping if nothing else the reverberations through the decks would alert someone standing above to check the brig. And that’s when she saw it, the air was smoky, but she could make it out the shape and some of the colors. There, on the first step, coming down into the hatch…

One brown suede boot that had seen better days on both sea and shore, then another as they gracefully descended the ladder stairs into the brig. Gradually she saw somewhat tattered clay colored breeches that were tucked into the boots, and then a faded red sash, a leather baldric with filigree buckle. She knew these things, she thought as the figure’s lean waist appeared, and then so did a dark blue frock coat and blue vest. Then there was braided dark brown hair, beaded dreadlocks, a single piece of eight dangling from one beneath a red bandanna and well worn, distinctive, leather tricorner hat..

“Jack!” Elizabeth exploded, her voice and body shuddering with so many emotions, relief at the rescue that had come, joy at having found him and when his head jerked in her direction at the sound of his name and his deep dark eyes permeated the smoke and met hers, a rush of love came over her like a warm wave breaking against her rocky soul and over flowing the beaches of her passionate and physical foundations. “Oh Jack!”

“Elizabeth?” Spoke Jack, his cautious brain not allowing him to believe at first that he’d heard her voice. He couldn’t see for all the smoke, but noted that there was water up to his knees in the compartment. His heart however was certain that it had heard Elizabeth’s call, and was pounding away in his head and throat, causing him to feel suddenly warm and break out in a light sweat. “Elizabeth!” He called again, louder this time, without having to will the name from his lips.

“Jack!” Elizabeth screamed, her speech about to fail her again, but the sound of her name afloat on the tenor of Jack Sparrow’s voice raised goosebumps all over her body. She hadn’t realized it, but she’d thrust her arms through the iron gate up to her armpits, straining to reach him though she’d lost sight of him in the smoke and rising water. “Jack! Here! Over here!” She called again, and then coughed, having breathed in too much smoke. There was no answer from him this time, but she could hear him slogging through the water, rushing through the water towards her, lost in the smoke.

How in hell had she gotten here? Not that it mattered now, all Jack focused on was getting face to face with her. God, when he got her he’d sweep her up into his arms and hug her more tightly than any other woman had ever been hugged before! Just to have her near him again was exhilarating and he couldn’t even see her yet.

Elizabeth would swear to her grave that the first thing she saw through the fog of smoke were Jack’s darker than night eyes, like two black diamonds shining boldly in the midst of the turmoil. He was beautiful! He ran towards her with his chest out, more than just a strip of his tanned skin visible through the V of his shirt, kohl lined eyes sharp, mouth partially open as he drew deep breaths. Every muscle of his body was taught with determination, his long hair blowing back behind him as he powered his body forward through the water, faster and faster. The image that appeared out of the smoke before Elizabeth was that of a god’s, tall, strong, domineering and electric. She trembled. She felt like a beam of light was shining out from her heart as she held his hands and she thought she felt something warm and ticklish fluttering in her chest. She’d dreamed of Jack often in the passed year, but never had he looked as handsome as this!

“Lizzie!” Jack smiled, some emotion like he’d never felt before taking him over as soon as he could see her. He’d nearly ran himself into the iron gate that separated them, he’d been running so fast and so furiously, but his hands sought Elizabeth’s out where they poked through the grates and he grabbed them tightly, his fingers interlacing with hers. The touch of her skin was like a new and brilliant sensation that somehow went straight to his heart, he wanted more, but stopped himself from practically pulling her through the grates. For a moment he felt as if he were floating, for she looked back at him, meeting his stare, her dress half on, half off, one of her white shoulders completely bare, her face shining like a light, one tear streaming from her eye as she smiled back at him. God, how he loved her! Oh, were not these bars between them…

Her shoulder shook, her lips quivered, and Jack was then thrust back to reality; the water, it was waist level now. The Stalwart bellowed and groaned the grim concessions of a sinking ship. The Pearl’s guns must have broken her back. Time was slipping away as the water rose. Jack gripped the iron bars next, knowing they wouldn’t bend, but with nothing in sight to start prying them with, he was at a loss, but he wouldn’t lose his Lizzie! There were so many things that Jack wanted to say to Elizabeth, so many things he made himself promise he’d say to her if ever he saw her again, but now, in this instant, all that came from his mouth was, “I don’t suppose ye’d be havin the key, Lizzie?”

What? He appears to her after so long, to save her life, looking more handsome than Poseidon himself, and he asks her that? “Jack, had I the key, I wouldn’t be here treading water!” She replied, but she was no less exuberant to see him. Oh, get her out of this brig so that she might touch him!

“That’s what I was fearin’.” He answered, and for a moment stood looking at her, taking her hands again and trying to think, but nothing came to him. He was bordering on panic, something he almost never was, but then he’d never been faced with trying to save the one he loved from such certain peril before. He had his cutlass, but knew the steel would break before the iron gave way. His pistol would likely do more damage to Elizabeth than it would do the damned gate. The water was now at his chest. He looked back into Elizabeth’s eyes, and this time he saw fear, could practically hear her asking him, “is this the end?” No! Absolutely bloody not!

Something snapped within Jack and he again grabbed the iron bars. He set his shoulders and his feet, tightened the muscles of his chest into a wall. “Gangway, Lizzie, gangway!” He growled as his biceps and triceps flexed. Every muscle in his body became rock hard and he pulled, pushed, pried at the gate with all that was in him and more. He must save her! He would save her!

Elizabeth struggled to keep her head above water in the corner of the brig, she didn’t believe her eyes. He hadn’t meant to…he wasn’t actually attempting to rip a cast iron gate out of the floor and ceiling with only his bare hands? Oh, she was to be drowned for sure! She loved Jack, but his stature, while handsome, was not built for such feats. Still there he stood, making a crane of his body, the gold in his mouth gleaming as his teeth clenched and his eyes squeezed to slits, and he grunted and groaned and pulled and yanked.

And then there it was, a loud cracking, popping sound. Elizabeth looked closely at Jack, afraid his back had broken under immense strain, but he showed no sensation of pain and kept muscling the gate out of the floor. It was becoming easier now, she could see it on his face, a few of the bars were actually free! She expected Jack to stop and catch his breath, but instead he put a sudden rush of effort and even more seemingly ethereal power into it, a muscle in his neck twitching as he ground out the words, “Heave to ye bloody damned thing!” and the gate unexpectedly leaped out of the floorboards and popped free of the ceiling, slipped from Jack’s numb fingers, and sank down to the deck. Jack’s legend had never included tales of his brute strength, for Jack’s strength had always been his cunning, but he’d done it; he’d busted Elizabeth out of the brig with only his bare hands!

“Elizabeth?” Jack panted, and then all at once she was in his arms, held so tightly it surprised her how much strength he still had left. She held him just as tightly, meaning to at least whisper a ‘thank you’ to him, but then she could have sworn she’d felt his lips brush her neck, and it made her feel how right this all was, and yet so unsure at the same time. Besides, being this close to Jack, finally, she couldn’t talk anyway, she could only hold him and be held, and she’d wonder about what it all really meant later.