“I did not lose the Pearl, Miss Swann.”  He stood suddenly, drew himself up to his full height and looked down at the girl.

 “No, Jack?”  She followed his lead, pulling herself to unsteady feet.  He moved forward to catch her if she fell, remembering just moments ago when he had had to do that very thing.  She waved him off and he could see her dig her toes deep into the sand to steady herself. 

 Raising his hands in mock surrender, he continued.  “I know exactly where the Pearl is.”  He did, sort of, know where she was after all.  He watched her raise another eyebrow.  Bloody hell.  “Yes.  I do know exactly where she is.  See that ocean over there?”  He waved one arm out toward the sea, knowing his precious freedom was out there somewhere.  “She’s out there.”

 “That’s what I thought.” Prim and proper, ever the lady of quality.

 “What, exactly, did you think, my dear Miss Swann?”  His voice dropped low.

 Elizabeth suddenly started to move, slowly, ever so slowly toward him.  He remembered a time very much like this, a time when he thought she was trying to seduce him, a time when he had allowed her to pull him in, allowed him to taste her, for just a moment.  No…not this time.  He backed up a couple feet before coming to realize that his retreating would make him look cowardly.  Oh no, he would face this one, dignity completely intact.  He stopped and let her come close, too close.  She was very near him when she spoke again.

 “Oh, Jack.”  The words were soft and a little sad.

 “I don’t need your pity, love.”  It was the most honest thing he had said in a long time.

 “I’m not offering it.”  The tilt of her head said otherwise.

 “I know you better than that.”  It was a simple statement of fact.  There might have been over three years between the times they last saw each other, but one thing would never change.  They were peas in a pod, two people whose hearts and minds were clearly in sync.  They wanted the same thing, lived within the same burning fire, longed for the same freedoms that only a life on the sea could offer.

 “So how did you come to be here, Jack?”  She elongated his name, drawing it out, and ending it with a hard “k.”  She was the only one who had ever said his name quite like that and he couldn’t quite explain why it sent shivers up his spine to hear it said that way once again.

 He sighed, knowing it was useless.  He had no good explanation for why he would be on this little island, stuck out in the middle of nowhere.  She wouldn’t buy into his claiming he was shipwrecked.  He could deal with losing the Pearl to Barbossa, knowing she was out there some and he could find her yet again.  But a wreck?  Lose the Pearl like that?  No.  He knew she wouldn’t believe he could be so cavalier about that.  And besides, as soon as they got back to camp, Gibbs would likely tell her the truth.  That inability to lie thing would rear its head again.  “Well, you see…Hector…”

 “Hector?” she interrupted him with.  “Hector Barbossa?  Oh Jack, please tell me you did not let him back onto your ship.”

 A sheepish grin told her everything she needed to know.  It told the whole story, from start to finish.  Jack, a man with too strong a nice streak, allowed his former first mate to come on his ship.  No doubt the man had told a sob story of being stranded, of being without a ship, pledged to follow Jack this time and not lead a mutiny.  And then, because all Hector Barbossa ever wanted was what Jack Sparrow already had, he led yet another mutiny against the good captain and stranded him here, on this island, with her.

 “Why here, Jack?”

 He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug, indicating that he was as in the dark about that little aspect of the mutiny.  “I guess he wanted to try a new locale.”

 “It was because of me.”  She knew it, for some reason.  Barbossa didn’t do anything without a reason.  “He wanted to leave you here…alone…with me.”  She leaned further forward, one finger reaching out to lightly touch his chest.  “I wonder…”  A little bit closer, her eyes meeting Jack’s and not looking away.  “…why.”  And then the sand shifted underneath her.  She was  overbalanced, her body still weak from the fever, unable to correct her forward motion.  She was falling, falling into Jack, and she knew she couldn’t stop herself.

 Jack saw it coming, winced as it happened almost in slow motion.  He reached out to catch her again, this time forced to pull her forward, tight against his chest. 

 Elizabeth gasped and looked up at him as his arms came around her and she collided forcefully with his chest.  Silence descended on them as they both stood, locked in this strange embrace.  Neither was willing to move one way or another.  He could have stepped back, steadied her on her feet, retreated from the burning look in her eyes.  She could have used him to regain her footing, pushed away from him and stood of her own accord.

 But neither moved.  Neither said anything for moments, one pair of dark eyes colliding with te other in a clash of desperation and will.  Had it really been three years since they last saw each other?

 “Oh, Jack.”  This time it was whispered and there wasn’t a hint of sadness in it.  Jack heard a little bit of surprise, a little bit of resignation, a little bit of…something.  She didn’t appear to want to move, even though her arm was trapped behind her body and his chest, held in an awkward position with her fingers splayed out across his chest and her elbow nearly digging into his stomach.

 He pushed her away.  It was the only thing he could really think to do at that moment.  He was slightly horrified at himself when she stumbled, tripped over her own feet, and sank down onto the sand.  He closed his eyes and turned his head away.  Remember what she did to you, ol’ boy.  This wasn’t some sweet, innocent woman, someone who he really should feel protective toward.  This was Elizabeth Swann…no…Elizabeth Turner, another man’s wife, a woman who had condemned him to hell. She was hard; she was battle-weathered, tested time and time again and had proved her merit to a ship in a time of war. 

 Then why the bloody hell was she looking up at him with her eyes looking strangely watery?

 Bugger.

 “Come on, Miss Swann…”  He turned to walk away.

 “Mrs. Turner.” 

 He stopped, rolling his eyes skyward.  “Whatever.”  He continued on his way.  “We’re camped out further down the beach, if you’d like to join us.”

 “Us?”  He stopped again and turned back to face her.  She hadn’t moved from the spot she had fallen.  Pushed, me boy…she was pushed there…she didn’t just fall.  Her face was tilted up to him and for some reason she looked even more worried than she had before.  He walked back to her, squatted down before her.

 “Jealous, love?”  The words were said with his customary grin.  She knew what he was thinking.  Exasperated, she pulled herself to her feet, a tight smile opening up to meet his.  An eye for an eye…

 “No.”  

 “Good, then follow me, Miss Swann.”

 And she couldn’t resist.  How could she?  The charm of Jack Sparrow…Captain Jack Sparrow, even without a ship to call his own…was almost a gravitational pull all its own. 

 “Sammy.”  The word surprised Jack and he looked at her with his brow furrowed.

 She indicated the dog, that scruffy little mutt who he had completely forgotten about.  A sigh of resignation.  “Bring him, too.”  Sammy, clearly happy to be included, wriggled in contentment when she reached a hand down to pet him briefly.  He followed along as the pair headed off across the beach.

 She wondered who the other person with Jack was.  The last time he had been left on an island by Barbossa, it had been she who had been left with him.  That was not how it had all been planned, but it had worked out that way and they had had a…well, if she couldn’t quite call it a “nice evening” together, it was at least an interesting outing where they learned a fair amount about each other.

 So who was it this time? 

 Jealous?  If she were to admit it to herself, she would have to admit that yes, she was jealous.  If she were to admit it to herself, she would have to admit that she followed him out of sheer curiosity.  Curiosity… If she were to admit it to herself, she would admit that a part of herself had awakened on that beach when she had heard Jack’s voice calling her name.

 But that was if she would admit it to herself.  And indeed, she would not.