It took Elizabeth some time to finally leave the room.  She had spent an indeterminable amount of time curled up on the bed, trying to push all sorts of crazy thoughts from her head.  They swirled around inside of her and left her reeling and confused.  Jack had just not been Jack when he had come into her room.  His eyes had been hooded and there was a darkness there that she had not seen before.

 No.  She was wrong there.  She had seen it just once.  When they had found Jack in Davy Jones’ Locker, he had had that look in his eyes, a look that said he had been to hell and back and it had changed him, left a mark on his soul.  That darkness was worrying.  When Elizabeth had first met Jack, she had had a sense of danger, but more than that she had noticed, quite oddly, that the famous pirate had a very light and untroubled soul.  Laughter had come easily to him, witty repartee had been his forte.  It had made him a very charming and likeable man. She supposed that was why she had always been drawn to him in some way, even before she had met him.  His name had appeared frequently in the stories about pirates she had read and each time it did, she greedily devoured the story, almost immediately committing it to memory.

 It was strange and a little bit heady to realize that she had just been sitting, uninhibited, exposed in a number of ways, involved in some sort of physical intimacy with the piratical idol of her childhood.  What would her dear father think of such things?

 Father is gone.  It had been years, but she still missed him dearly, often wished she could go to him for his counsel.  The thought both pained her and made laugh internally at the same time.  Going to her prim and proper father, the Governor of Port Royal, with her thoughts and worries about betraying her marriage to one pirate, the immortal captain of the Flying Dutchman, with one of the most infamous pirates ever known?  No.  That would not be possible, even if her father were still alive.  He would have dragged her back to England without any further thought and despite any arguments from his daughter.

 Her life had changed and drastically so.  Just six years ago, she had been the prim and proper daughter of the prim and proper Governor, living a life of corsets and proposals of high-ranking Navy men.  Now she was a pirate.

 With that thought, she had finally stepped from the room, heading out to seek Jack or his father or even Gibbs.  She could find no evidence of the men in the house, despite the fact that she was sure she had taken every turn.  It seemed like a vast place, though it was hard to tell both from the outside and now from the inside.  Near the place where they came in, she found Sammy asleep on a rug that seemed to be specifically placed there for the little dog.

 She bent down, pleased that Sammy made the effort to sit up for her.  It was strange seeing him with just the one leg up front, but he seemed to be in an ever-lessening amount of pain.  “I guess ‘shake’ won’t be in your vocabulary anymore.”  She laughed as the dog attempted to lift his one front leg up, collapsing onto his side in the process.  He gave her what could only been termed as an amused look before sitting back up.  The lack of the leg didn’t seem to bother him much.

 She reached out a hand and scratched behind his ear, finally sitting next to the dog.  It was quiet in the house, a sort of peacefulness she was really enjoying.  She still hadn’t quite grown accustomed to the noisiness of pirate ships.  At night, the people of her home on Port Royal had all gone to bed and the silence was conducive to a good night’s rest.  She had gotten used to the silence again while on the island.  It would take some time to get used to the noise on a ship…that is, if Jack would allow her to travel with him in his attempt to regain the Pearl once more.

 “He’s been hurt recently.”  She looked up to see Teague Sparrow staring down at her.  She gave him a questioning look, wondering if he were referring to the dog or to his son.  Teague waved at the dog and Elizabeth felt somewhat relieved.  She didn’t want to talk about Jack.

 “Yes,” she answered.  “A shark.”  It was not a moment she wanted to relive.

 “He’ll be fine,” Teague said by way of answer.  The two fell silent again. 

 Elizabeth felt terribly awkward.  Teague did not sit down in any of the chairs nearby, nor did he sit on the ground near her, rather the strange old pirate stood above her and looked down at her from there.

 “Did you want something?” she finally asked.  A simple enough question, that, but something she feared the answer to.  The man was clearly even more of an enigma than his son was.

 He continued to stare at her for a moment before finally saying, “Jack left.”  And he turned to walk away.

 “Jack left?”  Elizabeth repeated the words, scrambling to her feet.  He just…left.  Just like that.  She knew she had pushed him away, stopped him from going places he seemed to want to go with her body.  He couldn’t have expected she would just fall into bed with him, even though, if she would allow herself to completely admit the truth, she would have to admit that she had very nearly done just that.

 “Wait…”  She rushed after the man, trying to stop him.

 “He’ll be back.”  Teague disappeared around the corner, Elizabeth not far behind.  She stopped short.  The man was gone.  Just like that…gone.  She stepped further into the room he had disappeared in, looking for another door or a way to get out of there and saw none.  An enigma…definitely an enigma.

“What went on back there, Jack?”  Gibbs was trailing after the younger man, trying to keep up with his quick pace and knowing he was getting hopelessly lost as Jack weaved through various alleyways. 

 Jack turned to look at him without stopping his long strides.  The look said more than any words could have.  His eyes were dark, almost back.  If Gibbs had to pick one word to describe them, “frozen” would be it.  The look he gave him, in just those few moments, nearly stopped him in his tracks.

 “This has to do with Teague?”

 Jack continued walking, never faltering in the quick pace, not turning to Gibbs, not saying anything to him.  Gibbs threw another shot out in the dark.  “No…This has to do with Elizabeth, doesn’t it?”

 Jack suddenly stopped and Gibbs overshot him by a few steps, finally coming to a halt as the other man rounded on him.  “You’re overstepping your bounds, Mr. Gibbs.” 

 And Gibbs knew he was right.  When they had arrived at Teague’s oddly shaped house, the old pirate had insisted on talking to his son alone.  Jack had escorted Elizabeth to a room where she could take a nap and Gibbs had been left standing awkwardly in the hallway.  He had finally found a small living area and settled into a chair to doze off as well.

 Some time later, he was never sure how much time, Jack had emerged from the room, his face cold, devoid of all emotions, eyes dark and a little bit wild.  Gibbs had stood up, intending to intercept his friend, but Jack had just walked past him as if he were entirely invisible.  Following him, Gibbs had watched as he threw the door open to the room Elizabeth had been left in and strode inside, shutting the door behind him.  The click seemed to echo infinitely in the strange house.

 It was when Jack had left Elizabeth’s room that the man had looked so frighteningly out of control and yet tightly wound at the same time.  Immediately, he had left the house and Gibbs, not entirely sure what he was to do, had followed.  He couldn’t admit it to himself, but he was worried about the captain. 

 “This does have to do with Elizabeth.”  The words were said somewhat quietly, almost a musing to himself.  But it was certain Jack had heard them for his eyes lit with a cold fire.  Before Gibbs could draw another breath, the tip of Jack’s sword was pointing into his chest.  “Bloody hell, Jack, what are ye doin’?” he roared.

 Jack continued to stare at him, the tip of his sword never wavering, just poking into Gibb’s chest.  Not daring to move, Gibbs carefully met the other man’s eyes, tilting his head slightly to the side in the hopes that Jack would recognize who he was and what he seemed determined to do.  “Jack.”  The word was a plea.  He was sure his old friend didn’t even recognize him in that moment.  His eyes were staring hard into his, so much anger housed there that Gibbs wasn’t sure anyone could bring him back from this moment.  By Jesus, what did that girl do to him?