Saints and Sinners

Please can I have him?style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Sigh…

Many thanks for your reviews, although I don’t think
I’ll be getting on the wrong side of PirateAurora – she might send me to the
cage! ;) Thank you for your kind words,
Richgal – they are appreciated.
Greeneyedgoddess – I’m afraid the lurvefest won’t be for quite some time
– if at all… Mab – it’s a good job
Jack isn’t your average pirate then!

…

Chapter nine:

Celia woke with a start, shrinking away as she became
aware of someone approaching her.

“It’s all right, luv. You’re safe now.”

“C-Captain Sparrow?” she stammered, looking around and
realising she was in his bunk in his cabin.

“Aye, larger than life,” Jack grinned, spreading his
arms out. “Have a drink.”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He sat down on the bunk and held out a
beaker, taking it back off her as her shaking hands were in danger of spilling
the entire contents, and held it to her lips, tipping it back gently.

“Urgh!” Celia spluttered, coughing and choking.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “It’s vile!”

“It’ll do you good,” Jack chuckled, holding the
container up again, tipping it slower to ensure some actually went down her
throat.

“I… why? How?”
she gabbled, staring wildly at him.

“Never mind all that, just sleep, eh?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Jack smiled to himself as her eyes drooped,
silently sending thanks to the ship’s doctor for the draught he had mixed in
with the rum, which would give the girl a restful sleep.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> ‘Gawd knows, she needs it,’ he
thought ruefully, looking at her pale, drawn face before settling himself in
his chair that he had brought into the side cabin so he could keep an eye on
her, still trying in vain to ignore the
growing feeling he had towards the young woman.

“Cap’n?” came Joshamee Gibbs’ voice as he crept through
the main cabin. “How is she?”

“Distressed,” the younger man sighed.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “She looks like she hasn’t eaten properly
fer the last week or so.”

“Probably hasn’t – the bastard!”

“Aye,” Jack nodded.
“But she’s in better state than some of th’women he was sellin’ – except
Syn.”

“He sold Syndony?” Gibbs gasped, eyes agog.

“Yes,” Jack grinned sardonically.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “I reckon he had to drug her as she was
quiet as a mouse an’ looked out of it.”

“Heaven help the poor sod who brought her.”

“I can’t wait ter tell Ethan,” the captain of the Black
Pearl chuckled. “Make his day that
will…”

…

“N-no!” Celia
shied away, tears streaming down her face.
“Not again,” she whispered as he unlaced his breeches and freed his hard
member.

“I can’t have you,” he sneered.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “But you can have me – now on yer knees.”

“Celia… Celia…”

Celia gasped fearfully and lashed out, striking someone
hard. Her eyes shot open and she gasped
again to see Jack Sparrow recoiling from her blow. “What were you doing?” she demanded, her heart pounding with terror.

“You were havin’ a nightmare,” he informed her, rubbing
his jaw gingerly. “I was tryin’ ter
wake you.”

“Oh.” She
shuddered as the dream came back to her and bit her lip in an attempt not to
cry.

“You’re safe now,” Jack soothed, sitting on the edge of
the bunk. “No-one’s goin’ ter hurt you,
savvy?”

“W-where are we?” she stammered.

“Still in Port-au-Prince – there’s a storm brewin’ an’ I
don’t fancy riskin’ life, limb an’ my ship.”

“When will we leave?” she asked in a pleading tone.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “He might kidnap me again!”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Celia gulped down a sob and drew the covers
around her neck as if that would protect her.
“Please can we leave?”

Jack shook his head.
“No, luv,” he said gently. “He
won’t take you again – he’d have ter kill th’whole ship first, eh?”

“He took on a whole town and won!” Celia shouted.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “A whole bloody town!” she swore without
even realising she had done so.

“A relatively undefended town. Penhallick isn’t king of Tortuga just fer show, you know.”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Jack sighed. “We’ll leave the minute th’storm’s over, savvy?”

“It could be hours.”

“Aye, it could,” he agreed. “But there’s nothin’ ter be done, so I’ll get th’cook ter send
some food up an’ perhaps some hot water so you can wash.”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He stood and went to leave the side cabin.

“All right, thank you.” she finally conceeded.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Captain Sparrow?”

“Yes, luv?” Jack
stopped and turned back to face her.

“D-did you… undress me?” she whispered.

“Aye,” he told her softly. “But I didn’t touch you, savvy?”

“All right,” she nodded, gulping once more but believing
him.

Jack continued
on his way, using the errand as an excuse to see what the weather conditions
were and to check over his ship, making sure the crew had battened down the
hatches and stowed the sails. His keen
weather sense told him it was going to be a bad storm.

…

Celia felt her stomach heave and she bent over the pail
once more, fetching up what little contents were left in her stomach.

“If it’s any comfort,” Jack drawled as he entered the
cabin and saw her on the floor, covered with a blanket and retching into a slop
bucket. “There are seasoned sailors out
there doin’ exactly th’same as you.
Just be thankful we’re not at sea.”

“It is no comfort,” she gasped, pushing a stray strand
of hair from her eyes. “Surely it can’t
get any worse?”

“I’m afraid it can,” he chuckled wryly, clinging to the
mizzenmast as the ship listed and rolled sending water seeping through the
bottom of the door.

“Oh no,” Celia groaned.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “I’ll die if this keeps up.”

“Ah,” Jack mused, waving a
hand in front of him. “People always
fear they’re goin’ ter die when they have th’mal de mar, then after a day or so
they fear they style='font-family:Georgia;mso-bidi-font-family:"Lucida Sans Unicode"'>won’tstyle='font-family:Georgia;mso-bidi-font-family:"Lucida Sans Unicode";
mso-bidi-font-style:italic'> die!”

“I can well believe it,” she
moaned, clutching her stomach. “How
long with this last?”

“Depends on th’person an’
th’weather.”

“Wonderful!” she remarked
before thrusting her head into the pail once more.

“I’ll leave you to it, Miss
Hammond,” Jack grinned, turning and weaving and swaying his way back out of the
cabin.

“Bloody weather!” Oliver
Fernan cursed as Jack climbed the steps carefully to the quarterdeck.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Can’t wait ter get away from this bleedin’Frenchie
town.”

“You’re not the only one,”
Jack replied, raising his voice to be heard over the wind and rain which was
lashing down.

“How’s th’girl?”

“Her thoughts have turned ter
dyin’,” Jack grinned, water running rivulets down his face.

“Ah,” the Irishman nodded
sagely. “She’s on t’mend then?”

“Aye,” Jack laughed.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Whoa!”
He skittered along the deck, grabbing hold of the rigging to stop
himself as a wave swamped the decks and pitched his ship once more.

“Might be an idea ter tie a
line on, Cap’n,” Oliver suggested, holding up a rope which was tied around his
own midriff.

“Best idea I’ve heard all
day,” Jack panted, clinging to the rail as he made his way back to his crewman
who was tying another length of rope to the helm. “I just hope this blows over sooner rather than later.”

“Pity Stockton’s ship don’t
sink,” the crewman lamented. “Couldn’t
happened ter a better bastard.”

“If yer believe what Celia
preaches, he’ll get his just deserts in hell,” Jack replied as he tied the rope
around his middle.

“Yer not a believer, Cap’n?”
the Irishman enquired as if it were a normal occurrence to have a conversation
in the middle of a tropical storm.

“I’ve seen far too many
things ter believe,” Jack replied, casting his mind over a few of the things he
had seen, and shuddering involuntarily as the skeletial form of Barbossa
flitted through his mind. “Far too many
things,” he muttered, more to himself.
“When’s yer shift up?”

“Not fer another half an
hour,” Oliver groaned.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Then Myles can have th’helm.”

“You go,” Jack offered.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “No use in both of us stayin’ out here in
this.”

“Ya sure, Cap’n?style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Thanks,” he grinned, untying his rope and
making his way carefully to the hatch and the relative comfort below decks.

Jack sighed and wiped his
eyes, trying to clear the rain from them so he could check that all was as well
as it could be with his precious style='font-family:Georgia;mso-bidi-font-family:"Lucida Sans Unicode"'>Pearlstyle='font-family:Georgia;mso-bidi-font-family:"Lucida Sans Unicode";
mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>. He turned
his thoughts to the young girl in his cabin, still unsure as to how or why he
rescued her. He had intended to sail to
San Juan for supplies but instead found himself ordering Myles Burford to make
for Port-au-Prince instead, and much to his consternation, his crew had not
murmured one word of dissent. ‘style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>They must realise I’m goin’ softstyle='font-family:Georgia;mso-bidi-font-family:"Lucida Sans Unicode";
mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>,’ he bemoaned, shaking his head and sending raindrops
scattering. ‘style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>That’s what make you Jack Sparrowstyle='font-family:Georgia;mso-bidi-font-family:"Lucida Sans Unicode";
mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>,’ another voice reasoned and Jack grinned to
himself as he settled into a relatively comfortable position standing by the
lashed helm.

…

Celia looked around the cabin
with bleary eyes, slowly becoming aware that the ship was not rocking to and
fro and the rain had ceased hammering a drum beat on the deck.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She eased herself from the cabin deck
gingerly, her cramped muscles screaming in protest at the movement and she
shivered, the damp blanket making her feel cold, but she would not shed it and
leave herself naked as she made her way to the stern windows, peering out and
marvelling at the strong sunshine.

“You’re up an’ about, then?”
Jack drawled as he pushed open the cabin doors. “Feelin’ better?”

“Not really,” she shrugged
ruefully. “I feel as weak as a newborn
lamb.”

“Pellew’s cookin’ some food,
once he get’s th’galley stove lit again.
Do you want an apple ter tide you over?”

“Yes please,” Celia agreed
eagerly, her eyes widening as Jack opened a small chest and pulled out two
apples, tossing one to her and munching the other himself.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Thank you,” she acknowledged, hugging the
blanket around herself.

“I’ve sorted you some clothes
out,” Jack told her. “They’re men’s
clothes, I’m afraid – got no dresses in th’hold at th’moment.”

“Oh.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> What about… the dress I was wearing?” Celia
gulped as the recollection of putting the dress on came back to haunt her.

“That has ter be returned,”
Jack told her gently, for the garment obviously brought back painful memories
for her.

“Good,” Celia breathed.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “I don’t think I could face wearing that
again,” she shuddered.

“Th’clothes are in th’side
cabin if yer want to dress,” he suggested, smiled as the young woman waddled
across the cabin, still hugging the damp blanket tightly to her.

“Where have these come from?”
Celia called as she eyed the garments suspiciously. She had never worn breeches before but reasoned that a shirt
would not be so different to a blouse and picked them up, carrying them to the
private head.

“One of th’lads,” Jack told
her, his voice sounding rather too near for Celia’s liking.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Just until we arrive in Tortuga.”

“We’re going back?” she
gasped delightedly, dropping the blanket around her feet and putting the shirt
on, fumbling with the buttons and frowning as she realised that it did not
fasten all the way to the collar. In
fact, it did not fasten anywhere near the collar and Celia peered down,
horrified at how much of her chest was exposed. “I-I don’t suppose there is another shirt I could wear – this one
is… not suitable.”

“It’s th’smallest one on
board,” came Jack’s voice, a suspicious amount of humour in it.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “All th’others would have been too big an’
not preserved your modesty…”

“I see,” Celia remarked
dryly, not beliving him for one moment.
She hesitantly picked the breeches up, eyeing them as if they were about
to burst into life, before pushing one leg through and then the other, yanking
them up and hating the feel of them instantly.
She tied the laces and pulled the seat of the garment down, trying to
get comfortable in them and failing miserably.

“You all done?”

“Yes,” Celia sighed, pulling
open the drapes and stepping out into the side cabin, jumping as she saw Jack
lying on the bunk, hands behind his head and a smirk on his face.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “What are you doing?”

“Takin’ th’weight of my
feet,” he grinned. “It’s a hard life
being captain.”

“I’m sure it is,” she
replied, arching his eyebrow at him.
“When will we be leaving?”

“Within th’hour,” Jack
promised. “Just waitin’ fer th’last of
th’supplies, then I’ll send th’dress back…” he observed her carefully as she
shivered involuntarily, wondering if she was still a virgin or if Stockton had
raped her and hoped to get away with passing her off as untouched, but thought
it best not to ask – not yet anyway. “I
have an idea,” he grinned, a mischivous gleam in his eyes.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Jack walked to a chest in the main cabin, a
curious Celia following behind, and opened it, retriving the blue silk gown and
hanging it from the bulwark. He took a
small dagger from his sword belt and handed it to Celia, hilt first.

“W-what do you want me to do
with that?” she asked uncertainly.

“Pretend that dress is him,”
he suggested. “I told him I’d have it
returned, I just never said in what state…”

“Oh.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Oh, I couldn’t possibly… could I?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Celia looked from the dress to the dagger
and finally to the pirate captain who was watching her closely.

“That’s up to you,” Jack
shrugged. “But it might help…”

Celia tried hard to push away
all the thoughts that flooded her mind, all the things she had seen and been
forced to do on board Stockton’s ship, and she took the dagger and slashed it
down the dress, giving in to her anger.
Again and again she tore through the delicate material until it was in
shreds.

“That’ll do,” Jack prompted,
holding her wrist gently as she brought her arm back for another attack.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “I think he’ll receive th’message, savvy?”

Celia dropped the dagger
which fell to the cabin deck with a clatter and tried to pull away from Jack’s
grip but he tightened his hold on her and turned her around to face him.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Let me go,” she whispered, frantically
wiping the tears which were streaming down her face with her free hand.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She found herself being drawn towards him
and after an initial struggle, Celia buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

…