Exorcism

She couldn’t tell whether it was him who kissed her first or if they just found each other when she felt his lips descending upon hers. It was only the lightest of touches, but she was left with the faint taste of rum and spice on her lips when he pulled back and looked at her, quizzically.

The question, though unspoken, was in his eyes and she replied by putting her hand to his face and kissing him again. He leaned into her and brushed his lips over hers, varying the pressure until she opened her mouth, sighing unconsciously. This time, without any kind of ulterior motives or feelings of guilt, there was no reason for her to rush or take the lead; this time, she could do what she wished she could’ve done ever since she kissed him on the Pearl and give in to the nearly overwhelming desire to savour the feeling of being touched by him, kissed by him, kissed by Jack Sparrow, and it was even better than she remembered it, better than she’d imagined it would be, and when his tongue finally claimed her, she buried both of her hands in his hair, tugging on his braids in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. He promptly obliged and slammed his mouth down upon hers, kissing her so thoroughly her dazzled mind thought she would never need to breath again as long as he was doing that to her.

He brought his arms around her, pressing her to his body, and she couldn’t help but melt into him, feverishly returning his kiss while his hands never stopped caressing her back and shoulders. And then, she felt his weight upon her and realized he was lowering her to the ground, carefully, because of the candles, and she gladly gave in, pulling him with her until they were both lying on the dusty parquet, still kissing. He shifted about until one of his knees was settled between her thighs and she started grinding against him, so absorbed in exploring his mouth that she was hardly able to spend a conscious thought on the warm sensation that was slowly conquering her insides, causing her loins to burn in a familiar ache. Her body seemed to know what to do and she was fine with it, especially now that the ministrations of his lips were no longer reserved to her mouth but shared equally with her throat and collarbone.

Her head fell to the side and she moaned when he sucked in the tender flesh right below her ear, arching up when he bit down lightly.

“Jack …,” she groaned, her own voice sounding strange to her, while her hands slid under his shirt and across his shoulders, tracing down his upper arms and back to his hairless chest. He was all wiry strength and lean muscle, so different from Will who had been broad-shouldered and musclebound from years of sword-fighting practice. Not that it mattered, she thought. Not at all. If that was what the compass had been pointing to, this inconceivable nearness, this feeling of a heavy burden being gradually lifted off her shoulders, it had never lied, for now she knew it was this – him – that she wanted most in this world.

He was stroking her sides now, touching her through her waistcoat and shirt, and she suddenly wished she could take those off, needed his skin on hers, because that was what it was all about, wasn’t it? About the sharing and the feeling of completion, about being with someone, touching someone because you wanted it, wanted it because it was the only way to ever fill the emptiness you didn’t realize was there until you got a taste of it. She’d gotten her taste now, and whatever came after that, she knew she needed it and needed it badly. Her hips moved harder against his knee, and then, a hand was pushed between her legs, causing her body to lift from the floor in a strange angle, and she let out a silent scream.

Oh god.

Did he know what he was doing to her? Probably yes, judging from the way his fingers cupped her and pushed upwards, and it was dirty, so dirty, but she marvelled at the forbidden pleasure of it all, wanted to beg him not to stop … never to stop … and suddenly, his hands and lips were gone and he was kneeling above her, panting breathlessly.

“We better return to the ship,” he said between breaths, looking down at her with heavily clouded eyes.

Elizabeth stared back at him, startled at first, but with growing horror while she slowly came back to her senses. Had she really done that? She must have been out of her mind, completely shameless …

‘Don’t you have any dignity left?’ she scolded herself while she sat up and drew her legs to her body, wrapping her arms around them in a protective gesture. Alright, she didn’t regret she kissed him, it had been appropriate, in a way … but she should never have allowed things to go this far. How could she even have assumed that this was what Jack had offered her?

No doubt he’d had plenty of whores in his life, but he had never treated her like one; still, her behaviour during the past few minutes must have suggested to him that this was exactly what she was: a whore. And had he really been the pirate he pretended to be, he would’ve taken her, but he had just proven to possess a lot more decency than she did. Trying hard to appear untouched by what had just happened between them, she asked casually:

“Aren’t we supposed to return to the Pearl? Your men must already be getting nervous on our whereabouts. Gibbs …”

“Not at all,” he interrupted her, smiling. “You know, Ol’ Gibbs and I do have an accord: Now that I have been in the locker, I am considered old enough to stay out for the night. He won’t come looking for us until tomorrow afternoon. Since he won’t keep to the Code anyway, I figured this was the better solution. Can be pretty shocking to wake up in the middle of the night after some … well, you know, what I mean – and then you suddenly realize you’re not looking at some beautiful wench, but right into Gibb’s face. So I made him promise that no matter how much he might fear for my safety, rescue missions are not allowed until at least 24 hours after my departure.”

He laughed, but Elizabeth couldn’t join him, feeling even worse after having heard his words. So he didn’t even pretend that there was an actual reason for them to leave. He didn’t want her, probably felt disgusted by her, and for some unfathomable reason, she had to fight back the tears. Though she tried to hide it, she was sure he must have seen it, because he looked at her wide-eyed for a few moments before bursting out with laughter again.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, unable to believe he really had the guts to laugh at her.

“Lizzie,” he said, grasping both of her hands and taking them in his while talking. “You’re the best pirate I’ve ever seen, you’d probably beat me in any swordfight and apart from that, you’re the most beautiful, headstrong woman I can think of.”

Oh, now he’d done it. Why wouldn’t he outright tell her that she had been mistaken about his intentions? He didn’t want her, so what? She didn’t need his compliments to swallow that!

“And now you’re almost crying … .”

“No, I AM NOT!” And while she was shouting at him, she knew he couldn’t have missed the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

“Oh yes, you are, because at times, you’re just a bloody stupid little girl.”

“And what about bloody stupid pirates? You made me believe you … you … you tricked me in …”

She hated herself for sounding so unbelievably foolish and she expected him to laugh at her again, but he just grinned and made sure she didn’t pull her hands away.

“Lizzie,” he said, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I am not THAT good, you know? Patience has never been a particular strength of mine, and you do bloody well know that I do not give a damn about things like decorum and propriety! And believe me, if I didn’t really want you – if I didn’t care about you – I would have taken you right here, on the floor and been done with it.

But as I do care – which actually shouldn’t come as a surprise to you -, I was as good as it was in me, which is, in fact, not THAT bad, though still not good either, and considering that I am a pirate, I think I can be proud of myself for taking in mind that even though I do not have a dress in my cabin, I at least own a bed … not a very comfortable one, but it’ll do. So if you hurry up, I promise I’ll prove you in no time that I actually want you more than anything … and if that won’t satisfy you, you can very well ask my bloody stupid compass.”

Elizabeth looked at him wide-eyed, feverishly trying to put his words together and endow them with a meaning, and when she finally realized what he’d said, she felt her heart miss a beat and looked at him through the tears, freeing her hand to wipe her eyes. She wanted to say something, tell him how much his words meant to her, then and there, but her voice failed her and the only sound she managed to accomplish was a dry sob that caused Jack’s features to change into a rather solemn expression.

“If you want me as well, that is …,” he added hesitantly, obviously believing he’d said the wrong thing. “I mean, you know, I may not be old enough to be your father, but close, and I know I have the unfortunate habit to enjoy vile drinks and …”

“Jack, shut up.” And on the spur of the moment, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again, presuming that this was probably the only way to keep them both from talking nonsense. It wasn’t long until she found herself lying on the floor again, Jack kneeling above her and fumbling with the buttons of her waistcoat while cursing whoever had made this wholly superfluous invention. Elizabeth laughed but finally took pity with him and shoved his hands away to remove the hindering piece of clothing herself, but had scarcely opened the uppermost button when he tore himself away from her again.

“No, no, no,” he gasped, “Not again. We agreed on my cabin, savvy?”

She sighed and turned her head to the side, clearly frustrated now. It surely was nice to have him act the gentleman and all, but if he went on with it … well, she might very well lose courage and run away from him, no matter how much he cared. He didn’t know what it was like to feel the darkness linger behind every corner, every word, every touch … and she feared it would take her over, never to be lifted again. Whatever was going to happen between them, she felt it had to happen here, in this house, because the time had come now to bring events to full circle.

“Come on now, luv,” Jack urged her, already reaching for the coat he’d carelessly thrown to the side. “I have to admit I’d be pretty disappointed if you fell asleep on the floor just now.”

He smiled down at her and suddenly, a thought struck her mind.

“Jack,” she cooed seductively while propping herself up on her elbows. “What would you say if I told you that I also happen to have a bed in my … well, eh … room?”

“Your room?”

“Just next door - and my bed has the advantage of being comfortable, at least that’s how I remember it.”

A puzzling look appeared on his face and she could see he was trying to figure out what she was talking about but didn’t quite succeed.

“I’d been in there before I came here,” she quickly explained. “Most of the furniture is broken and there’s a rather large gap where the window used to be, but the bed seems to be alright … except for the legs and the curtains, but I think we can do without, don’t you?”

“Oh, well … .” Jack seemed to contemplate the matter, still sceptical, and it was obvious he really wanted to return to the ship. Unwilling to reply right away, he put on his coat and knelt down to put the parchments back into the chest before placing it back to its hiding place under the lose planks.

“Won’t you take it with you?” Elizabeth asked, stumbling to her feet.

“No.” He shook his head. “Better to leave the past where it belongs. And there are many more things I’d happily bury beneath this floor if it were possible … though I’d say that rum can also do the job.”

The rum.

So that was it. She almost smiled at the thought, findinghow easy it was to see through him. Well, if her eyes hadn’t betrayed her, something could be done about that.

“Want a vile drink?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder.

“What?”

“You know … this room was used by old Grace Poole for sewing. Old Grace-,” she turned away and walked across the room. “- had a certain fondness for the bottle.” And with that, she picked up her find and presented it to Jack: A dusty, but nevertheless intact bottle of rum.

She tossed it to him and he eyed it greedily before pulling out the plug and taking a hearty swig.

“Ol’ Grace had a well-developed taste,” he observed. “And I must say, I am proud of you, Lizzie.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ve come a long way from burning a man’s life elixir …”

“That was a one-time exception!” she laughed. “And I insist on payback.”

He chuckled and handed her the bottle. Well, even if it didn’t help, it certainly wouldn’t hurt. And with this thought on her mind, she brought it to her lips and took a small gulp … and then another one. It tasted as awful as ever and she pulled a disgusted face at which he ripped the bottle from her hands and held it with his outstretched arm so she couldn’t reach it.

“Clearly, you do show very little respect towards this divine gift.”

“Oh, I do. That’s why I think we should … eh … retreat now.” She took his hand and smiled wickedly. “I don’t want you to faint too soon.”

“I never faint!”

Elizabeth grinned broadly, thinking about the night they’d both spent on the inhabited island and from the sour expression on Jack’s face she knew he was doing the same.