A/N: Sorry its been so long since my last update.. Here's a long one to make up for it. After the scene with Will and Elizabeth, the story picks back up a couple weeks or so after the last chapter left off.

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"So that's it then?" Will, who sat hunched over the table with his arms crossed, chirped in. Elizabeth, still hot with embarrassment, thought of what to say. The silence made her uncomfortable.

"Not entirely."

"How many times? More than that once?" he demanded to know. His face grew red and contorted with anger. The idea of the whole thing was like having the sword back in his heart and each confirmation Elizabeth gave him was like Davy Jones twisting it even more.

"I don't know," Elizabeth said exasperated and distressed. "More than once, yes. A few other times. Maybe more…"

Will slammed his fist into the wooden table. His curly hair fell all out of place as if it were angry too.

"What were you thinking?" he yelled at Elizabeth who remained firm as stone, though her wet cheeks betrayed her. "This wasn't some misfortune, Elizabeth. Surely you knew what you were doing?"

She would not satisfy him with a response.

"…And that other man, he could have had you as well."

"That was a matter in which I had no choice."

He let silence fill the room as he breathed in some control.

"What became of him?" Will asked with sincere concern and perhaps, surprisingly, some sympathy for Elizabeth. At last, she was not the villain in this part of the story.

"He departed as soon as we made port, just a day after the happening, too ashamed to show his face. Though that most likely would not have been the case had he succeeded."

Silence again. Elizabeth lost track of where she was.

"And then what? Did Jack just leave you off when he found out?" Will began again, putting Elizabeth back on the hot spot.

"No," Elizabeth said more defensively than she meant to and Will noticed. "No," she tried again, quieter, "it wasn't like that."

"Was it love?" He said sneeringly.

Elizabeth couldn't answer the question because the answer was not something she could word. And such a mockery did not deserve the effort. Silence fell as he waited for her response.

"It was wrong, but I was happy," she said sincerely. "When I left it was of my own choosing. However, I would not have chosen it if anything less had happened than what did."

Her mind twinkled back to the unfortunate forces that seemed to follow Elizabeth's happiness.

"Stop it," she said with a smile. The musty, warm air below deck wallowed around her.

Jack gleefully disobeyed and kissed her again. Elizabeth kissed back as if it would satisfy him enough to be done. The two had run into each other alone below deck. With no one to see, how could they ignore the opportunity? There was intense and quick pleasure that made her heart fly, her knees weak, and her mouth gape. Elizabeth stumbled away from Jack, adjusting her breeches, tucking in her blouse, and straightening her sweaty hair. Her lips remained remarkably pink, the natural feminine glow of a woman in love.

"I'm going," she said hastily while picking up the canteen she had come down for to begin with.

Jack ignored her decision and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Really, Jack. Thatch is waiting for me."

He pulled back a bit.

"What 's he doing?" he asked against her cheek.

Elizabeth spun around to face him, her arms brought up tightly against his chest.

"We were working on the mast together, what's it to you?" she said playfully.

He kissed her again.

"I'll come to your cabin later," Elizabeth promised as she pulled away quickly, "But I have to go now."

Jack pouted and let her go. She quickly backed away in a hurry to get back on deck.

"I promise," she shouted back as she ran up the stairs, canteen in hand.

Above deck, the sky was overcast and the air was hot. A storm was brewing in the distance. Jack and Elizabeth parted as if nothing had gone on between the two and so their secret remained. Elizabeth brought the canteen she had gone down to fetch over to Thatcher who sat on deck holding the cloth in his rough hands.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"Are you complaining?" Elizabeth teased nonchalantly instead of honestly answering the question.

He checked himself.

"Not at all," he smiled kindly up at her.

He set the cloth down to drink. Elizabeth eased herself down onto the wood to grab her end. She took a needle out to begin when thumping on deck came towards her with a crash.

Elizabeth grabbed the boy who wrapped his arms are her neck and dropped his body on her back.

"Mother!" he yelled with fits of giggles.

Happily Elizabeth pulled him forward and entrapped the young boy in a rapid fire of tickles. His innocent laughter pierced the air and no sound could have made Elizabeth happier. Thatcher watched silently with a subdued smile. As Elizabeth noticed this she gently let William go. The boy sat up with his hair a mess and his hat askew. Adoringly, his mother fixed his hat, brushed his hair from his face, and kissed his red cheek.

"You'll need to be in bed soon, dear," Elizabeth remarked, taking notice to the darkening sky around them behind already dismal clouds.

"No!" William yelled and took off running. Elizabeth opened her mouth to call out to him but decided it was useless. She sighed and shook her head.

"Enjoy it while you can," said Thatcher, implicating guilt. Elizabeth was growing a little resentful of his constant reminders.

"I do," Elizabeth said proudly. She cursed herself for acting so selfishly but she was realizing that Thatcher's loss was becoming less sincere and more manipulative. Stop this, she thought, trying to put the thoughts from her mind. However, the thought was not in the position to be disregarded because it wasn't a thought at all. It was instinct- the instinct of an individual who knew grief well.

After laying William down to bed, Elizabeth quietly made her way up the stairs that lead to the deck. She smiled happily to herself for no reason whatsoever. Realizing this before reaching the door, Elizabeth stopped and took a deep breath to drown the illogical smile. She reached for the door and the smile cracked again. She stopped, nearly giggled to herself, and then bit her lip to restrain it. How ridiculous she had become! Quickly Elizabeth opened the door and walked on deck.

The dark clouds had made good on their threat; rain pounded the wooden deck. Elizabeth ran underneath the raindrops to Jack's door. However, when she got there the door was cracked and someone else was already there. Elizabeth quickly took underneath the stairs that lead to the helm in order to dodge the rain. The glowing light came through the crack and painted Elizabeth's face as she curiously kept close in order to hear. Oddly enough, Elizabeth was not shocked to see Thatcher standing across the table from Jack.

"We had a deal," Thatcher spat.

"Your down payment no longer covers the costs, your service is good but not worth the price. Our deal has expired and I have held up my part. You can stay and work and earn your keep like the rest of the crew or you can leave. But we're not stopping again." Jack explained the facts brutally like Elizabeth knew he could when he was irritated. But these facts were something of which she was completely unaware.

"Captain, you hate them like I do. You know he deserves this," Thatch pleaded desperately. "That is not my problem." Jack quickly walked around the room sorting maps, clearly making the point that he was too busy to be trifled with.

"It is all of our problems! Men like him have caused all of us pain! You know this to be true."

"You're caught up in your emotions, lad."

"They must pay!" Thatcher yelled with the urgency ringing in his voice.

"Yes," Jack quickly agreed irritably. "But not today. We must wait until the opportune moment."

"Captain, please help me. I cannot live while he lives."

"I think you'll find you can."

"No-"

"Enough!" Jack finally stopped his pleading, though he was still fuming. "Get out, go sleep."

Still watching intently, Elizabeth saw Thatcher turn to leave and she quickly threw herself into the darkness below the stairs. Thatcher stormed off into the rain without noticing she was there. Looking at him then looking in at Jack, Elizabeth finally entered.

Jack shot a glance towards her to show he knew she was there. Unwilling to explain anything, he made no greeting, but continued to sort his stack of maps. Elizabeth stood there and watched him, giving him the chance to explain. Soon, however, she realized he wasn't planning on making the attempt.

"Jack," she said seriously but calmly, "what's going on?"

With his back to her, he quickly stopped shuffling to roll his eyes and then he continued on occupying himself.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Elizabeth responded, aghast. "You don't have a personal vendetta with the East India Trading Company, Thatcher does. What's he want you to do?"

Jack made no response.

"Jack please!" Elizabeth said desperately. Then more quietly she said, "This is why we've made all the stops, isn't it? All the dancing with the Company, this is why?"

Jack remained silent, but clenched his jaw in agitation, his back still turned. Elizabeth shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her in frustration.

"How much did he pay you?" she dared to ask.

Finished with the conversation long before it started, Jack shook his head to deny the question. He walked towards her sour face with a complacent smile. She didn't respond to his distracting kiss on her lips.

"Another time, love? I'm a little busy," he said.

To their original plans or to his explanation, Elizabeth was uncertain of what he meant- perhaps both. He smiled as if pretending nothing was wrong would put Elizabeth at ease. She clenched her jaw and shook her head, as if to show how wrong he was to think that. Without a word she quickly left his room with displeasing unanswered questions circling the humid air.

Wearily, Elizabeth sat herself down on the hammock with a relief to her aching feet. She took a moment to appreciate the silence and calmness below deck. She sighed heavily. Like it sometimes did at night, her thoughts weighed heavily on her suddenly. The calm darkness betrayed her, though physically she didn't show any sign of what went on in her mind. She looked over her shoulder at the sleeping boy in the hammock behind her. So precious was he, she thought. So innocent. So like his father. Elizabeth felt uneasy. Had she really lost the control she thought once to gain? She knew she was making a mistake and she felt the inevitable grip of consequence tugging at her in the night.