A Modest Proposal

A/n: Writing all these innocent one-shots is driving me slightly mad. So this is part II of Deeply, and it's rather shameless if I do say so myself... :) If you haven't read Deeply, all you really need to know is that when Lizzy finds Jack on Tortuga, he kisses her silly. :P Slightly AU, on the assumption that it took more than one day to reach the isle las cruces in DMC.

Chapter 1: Just A Bite

Elizabeth learned long ago that having more than a single glass of wine with dinner was a dubious prospect at best. Not because she could not handle herself, but because she had a tendency to say exactly what she thought. In vino veritas, as it were. In polite society, more often than not, the result was usually detrimental to the egos of her peers, if not outright insulting. Here, in Jack Sparrow's cabin, such freedom of tongue seemed equally as dangerous, though for completely different reasons.

As though kissing her silly hadn't been flustering enough, earlier that day he'd asked her to marry him. True, it had been a rather sideways proposal, tongue in cheek, in the way only Jack Sparrow could put forth an idea. Almost a joke. A dare, even. And yet somehow, she was beginning to suspect that maybe he really had been serious.

Her mind reeled as she thought of the way they had sparred earlier over the Letters of Marque. One word love: curiosity. You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it. To act on selfish impulse. You want to see what it's like. One day you won't be able to resist.

God how she feared he was right.

He'd come within a hair's breadth of kissing her again in front of the whole crew—and she wasn't sure she wouldn't have let him. At the last minute he'd retreated, leaving her flustered, relieved, and more disappointed than an engaged woman had any business being.

Jack was like a king in his castle now that he had the Pearl back. Confident, swaggering, even gallant in his hospitality. He had put on a real captain's dinner for her that evening, a sumptuous spread of roast chicken, vegetables, and fruits, the way a ship only could just out of port. Libation flowed freely, and Jack kept her wine glass full with a vintage of Burgundy that had been put away in a dusty cellar long before either of them had been born. An extravagance no doubt pilfered from an ill-fated French ship.

Jack had switched to rum a little while ago, and though he tried to encourage Lizzy to do the same with a Puckish twinkle in his eye, for old time's sake, Elizabeth insisted she stick to wine.

It seemed safer that way.

By the wolfish way Jack looked at her, even out the corner of his eye, she should have known better.

Worse yet, she was having the time of her life.

She tried to feel guilty, to worry about Will, and Beckett, her father…but her heart just wasn't having it.

Jack is hereit whispered, rejoicing. You only agreed to marry Will because you thought for sure you'd never see him again.

She wished it wasn't true. Will was her dearest friend, and she would love him always as such—a friend—but as time went on she suspected more and more this impending wedding could be the greatest mistake of her life. When Beckett interrupted—intervened…her heart had sighed with deepest relief.

Oh, but if there was anything Elizabeth Swann hated, it was admitting that she was wrong.

She frowned, an expression of which did not escape the notice of Captain Sparrow.

Nothing escaped the notice of Captain Sparrow, it seemed. He paused in his amusing story of how he'd outwitted the gendarmes in a caper on Martinique to ask, "What's wrong, love?"

There was a long pause, in which Elizabeth considered the cliff before her, the thrill of the prospect of jumping coursing through her bones.

She took a deep breath, and jumped.

"Did you mean it, Jack?"

"Mean what?"

"When…you asked me to marry you. I never would have thought you the type."

He smiled a little, dark eyes casting down. "Suppose you have a way of bringing it out in a man."

"Proposals?" She laughed, and took a drink of wine. Oh God, what Pandora's box had she opened?

He fixed his glittering gaze upon her, obsidian eyes that could capture a woman's soul. She held her breath as he looked upon her like that, unable to move, unable to breathe.

"Desire," he corrected, the corner of his mouth quirking when she choked on her wine.

What a coward you are, Jack Sparrow, he chided himself, feeling a bit raw from earlier. A proposal of mar-i-age fell from his lips so easily for this girl, yet she hadn't jumped on the idea with a yes, and so he still held his heart back. He could admit that he desired her, but not that he could give her everything.

If he survived the Kraken and Davy Jones, of course.

"That's a terrible thing to base a marriage upon," she quickly retorted.

It was Jack's turn to laugh. "Tis it? Think they're built upon less pleasant things every day, darlin'."

Elizabeth huffed, looking away. An embarrassing flush assailed her cheeks, painting them a rosy pink. "Pleasant for men, maybe," she grumbled into her wine glass, before taking a long drink.

Her experiments with Will had been less than satisfying, to date. Will had promised her it would be different once they were married. She couldn't really fathom why. The first time had hurt like the devil, the second almost as much, and every time after…just left her feeling even more pent up than when they'd first started. She could hardly see the bloody point.

"What was that, darlin'?" said Jack, cupping his ear with his hand, a dangerous glimmer in his eye.

Elizabeth sighed, pressing long fingers to her throat. Was it just her, or was it suddenly ridiculously warm in Jack's cabin?

"I just…don't understand what all the fuss is about," she huffed, unable to meet Jack's gaze. A knot in the table suddenly became very interesting to her questing fingernail. Out the corner of her eye she noticed Jack straighten a little in his chair, his expression sharpening like a hound on point.

"Would you like…clarification on the matter?" he offered, praying she would say yes, unsure how he was so lucky that the conversation had turned this way by her direction. Stupid whelp, thought Jack. Silly silly boy. He could not handle a woman like Elizabeth.

No great surprise there, really.

Elizabeth frowned. "And then what? Could you make love with me, Jack, then set me free to marry Will?"

It was Jack's turn to almost choke on his rum, and he didn't look too happy about the prospect. "Are those your terms, Lizzy?" he asked quietly, a shadow in his eyes.

Who was he kidding? Marriage. It implied a future, a future of which most likely he did not have, much less with her.

Fine.

He would spring at what chance he got with Elizabeth, no matter how paltry. It would be better than nothing. Better than nights filled with fantasy and the ministrations of his own palm, as he had been doing.

"Terms?" She shook her head with disbelief, dizzy. What was she doing? Somehow she'd entered negotiations with Jack, the most clever man she knew, without even realizing.

This was too much.

She was a little fool, and she had to go before she really did something irreversible. Elizabeth leapt out of her chair. "I thank you for the delightful repast, Captain Sparrow, but I do think it's high time I found my hammock for the evening."

On long legs she made an attempt for the door, but Jack was too quick, leaping out of his chair. He stopped her with hands upon her shoulders, a gentle touch that pinned her just as effectively as steel manacles. "Lizzy, wait…"

He couldn't let her go now. Not when they were so close to…some sort of truce.

Jack's gentle touch upon her shoulders burned like fire, electrifying her skin all over. It was unbearably exquisite, and she couldn't help but wonder what other sensations this infuriating pirate could evoke from her body.

Her frustrations with Will had reached the point where she wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with her. If perhaps she was not capable of experiencing the pleasure the poets touted as life's most divine gift. But now, here with Jack…she wondered if her body was not the problem.

Elizabeth's eyes slipped closed as Jack's gentle touch travelled to her hair, stroking her mane carefully, almost as one would soothe a nervous filly on the verge of bolting. She shuddered, a delicious chill galloping down her spine. "Jack?"

"I have an idea, love. A modest proposal, as it were."

Elizabeth raised one dark eyebrow.

She should have answered with indignant venom.

She should have run for the door.

But sometimes Elizabeth Swann just could not help but play with fire.

Her voice quavered just a little as she inquired, "Indeed?"

"If the men of your experience have proved such a disappointment—"

"I've only been with one!" she exclaimed indignantly, winning a gold glinting smile.

Jack continued on without missing a beat, "The whelp, I assume, no surprise there, and the quantity of notches in your bedpost is hardly a detriment, but perhaps what you need is a little instruction in how to…fire your own cannon?"

Elizabeth gaped like a fish out of water, her hand flying to cover her mouth in her embarrassment. And yet, she knew she couldn't blame all the heat that flooded her skin on mortification.

"Jack?"

He spread his hands wide, warming up to the subject with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. God, but he was beautiful when he was up to something, she reckoned. "A woman who takes control of her own pleasure will never be beholden to a man for it again. Not that he shouldn't make an effort, mind you," he said, wagging a ringed finger righteously, "but it never hurts to have a trick or two up your own sleeve…"

Again, she should have slapped him silly for daring to make such a…modest proposal. Yet Elizabeth found the prospect irresistibly enticing. Taking control of her own destiny, as it were… It wasn't often she was given the chance, it seemed.

As her desires hurtled towards the edge of this new cliff, her conscience made on last ditch effort at salvation, slinging words in a huff. "You seem awfully confident, Captain Sparrow, for a man who hardly knows me."

Jack knew he had her then. He knew by the curiosity in her voice, knew by the way she shuddered as he swept her hair back from her shoulders. He chuckled darkly, his lips grazing the pulse of her neck. Elizabeth gasped, her hands fisting in the linen of his shirt. "I know far more about you than you give me credit for. You think your prude little whelp knows more about your nubile young body than me? An admitted and devoted libertine pirate? You cannot imagine the pleasures you are capable of, Miss Swann. Allow me to be your guide."

He continued his path down her neck, grazing her collarbone with his teeth. She melted in his grasp like butter beneath the hot sun, and his arms snaked about her willowy waist, pulling her close. The only answer she could muster was a sigh filled with longing, her head tilting back to grant better access to the length of her svelte swan's neck. "I'll make you an even better deal, darlin'. I promise I'll only touch you for the purpose of self-instruction. Your honor will even remain somewhat intact. You can march right back to your blacksmith when this is all over, with a new arsenal of knowledge under your belt."

A nervous little laugh escaped Elizabeth at hearing that.

What honor? she wanted to say, but feared that would really plunge her in over her head with Jack. Worse yet, she thought, what blacksmith?

"This proposition sounds as though it would be rather boring for you," she sighed, her last half-hearted attempt at evasion, enamored of the feeling of Jack's strong hands kneading into her sides. He could pull her to pieces with those hands, she reckoned. Sailor's hands, accustomed to hard work and unruly seas. What a marvel it was, that also he could be so gentle with her?

Amused that she still didn't seem to understand her power as a woman, her power over him, Jack chuckled, pressing a kiss behind her ear. "Oh, I will enjoy myself most thoroughly, Miss Swann. You can count on that."

Elizabeth bit her lip, knowing she should say no. Knowing there would be the devil to pay later, if she surrendered this bit of ground to Jack Sparrow. But sometimes, it seemed like the devil and his get had so much more fun in this life. With a single simple sentence she watched herself seal her fate. "Then we have an accord, Captain Sparrow."

Jack smiled, gold glinting in the low light, and Elizabeth couldn't help but imagine it was the way the snake smiled at Eve.

Just a bite, dearie. Just one little taste.

No matter what deal they made, somehow Elizabeth knew there would be no going back from this point forward.