Chapter 6: Saturday

"But you never go to work on the weekend." Elizabeth frowned; watching Will dress from her spot atop the downy covered bed, the sheet tucked under her arms as Will tossed her a smile.

"I have a meeting, nothing more. Then I will come home, I promise." He walked to her side and set a small kiss to the top of her bare shoulder.

Making his way down the hall he stopped at the front to gather his things, the butler Godfried opening the door and giving the blacksmith a genuine smile.

"Your eye is looking much better today, Mr. Turner."

"Thank you Godfried. It still feels injured, but at least it doesn't look as ugly." Making his way to the quaint shop, there were two figures obediently seated on the front steps.

"Morning, Mr. Turner." James Wilkerson stood quickly, his hat in his hands as he greeted Will with a tentative smile. "Josh told me of his actions last night…and…I apologize for him neglecting his work." His eyes looked over at his son, the small boy focusing solely on the hay coated floor as the toe of his boot kicked at a loose lump of charcoal.

Will laughed, slapping a hand to the older gentleman's shoulder. "No, James, that isn't the reason I've called you both here this morning. I admire your son's spirit in working so hard with the horses and in the stables, though I believe he may better hone skills if he worked here with me. I am in need of an assistant and would readily welcome his help." Will spoke as he opened the lock to the smithy doors and tossed them open, waiting patiently for the two Wilkerson's to walk into the humble establishment.

"You're serious Turner?"

"Indeed. You and your wife were so kind to me when I was struggling for so many years; I cannot sit here and watch a decent man such as you waste away. Any craft he helps prepare, the payment is his to keep as a wage for as long as is necessary to get you and your wife back on your feet."

Will saw the tears in the man's eyes as he pulled him into a strong embrace, pulling back to look down at the beaming Joshua.

"Does this interest you, son?"

"Oh yes, Papa, please."

"Then you have my permission. Though, we will need to talk to the men at the stables to clear your release."

"Don't concern yourself about that, I'll talk to the governor myself. Now, I invite you and your family to my home for dinner tonight; that is, if your wife is well enough to attend." Will asked, shaking Wilkerson's hand with a warm smile as the older gentleman complied, agreeing to meet at 7:00 for dinner at the Turner's residence.

Elizabeth smiled as Will walked into the house; her feet curled beneath her and a book perched in both hands waiting for her husbands return.

"That was quick; I would have expected you home much later. What was this meeting you talked of?" She asked quietly, her eyes moving back to her book as she waited for him to answer her.

Seating himself beside his wife, he pulled the book from her hands and set it on the small coffee table in front of them.

"I have taken that small boy we met yesterday as my apprentice." He spoke between soft kisses to her exposed shoulder; the lace fabric tickling his chin where dress met skin.

She turned, meeting his eyes with a smile as she set a gentle kiss to his lips.

"You're a good man, Will Turner." She spoke quietly as she cupped his chin and pulled him into a more determined kiss, her lips melding with his before they heard a discreet cough from the entry way.

"I don't mean to intrude, but a message arrived for you Mrs. Turner." Godfried hid a smile as he watched from the corner of his eye as the couple broke apart reluctantly and Elizabeth rose to take the small folded piece of paper from his hands.

"Who is it from?" Will questioned lightly as he picked up her teacup and took a sip before noticing one of the many swords on the walls hanging crooked. Standing with ease he strode over and took it down, righting it into his hands as his eyes scanned the perfectly folded steel with a small smile before he felt his wife's eyes on him.

"You still have never taught me how to fight properly with a sword."

"And I don't intend to. You're far too perfect Elizabeth, and any case that may arise when you're in need of protection I plan on being at your side."

"Just like with Barbossa?"

A flicker of pain shone on his face as he set the sword back on its rack and straightened it.

"Who is the letter from, love?"

"Father; he's inviting us to dinner tonight."

"We'll have to pass darling; I invited James Wilkerson and his family here for the evening."

"Oh…" She tossed him a small smile, seating herself at the small desk beside the book shelf. "I'll just write and tell him we're unable to attend."

"That is, if you'd like to have dinner with your father, I won't stop you. You may go if you wish." Will positioned himself behind her, his rough hands settling to her shoulders as the callused pads of his fingers ran small circles over her delicate skin.

"Will…you've gone with me to enough of those boring socials for me to at least sit at dinner with you and a family of this city. They're probably more enjoyable company anyway." She heard his low chuckle and made her way to the kitchen to inform Cook that they would be having company for dinner.

"This is a lovely home, Mrs. Turner."

"Please, Amanda, call me Elizabeth. Your family has obviously known Will for quite some time, and I thank you for putting up with him for as long as you did." Elizabeth laughed as she and Mrs. Wilkerson sat at the long dinner table beside their respective husbands. Joshua sat at the head of the table, much to his fathers chagrin, though neither the master of the house nor his wife had any complaints over the child's seating arrangements.

Amanda Wilkerson was indeed ill, and the memory of her vibrant and forcing him to finish all of the vegetables in his soup kept a constant pang of sadness in Will's heart. Her gaunt and pale features were accented by the dark circles under her eyes. She was skin and bones and it was clear to all at the table, save Joshua, that she would not last through another season in the Caribbean.

James kept a hand on his wife's the entire night, offering to help her with any small task to the brink of her tossing him the look that all female spouses seemed to possess.

"Any word from Sparrow, Will? I heard that Commodore Norrington still has a warrant out for his capture."

"No, nothing from Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Jack Sparrow." Joshua corrected with a mouthful of bread smothered in butter.

"Joshua James! Do not talk with your mouth open." Amanda scolded as she took another small bite of the thick stew.

Will laughed as the conversations wafted through the dining room, seeming to fill the house with a certain togetherness that Elizabeth had never felt at any social she had ever attended. After dinner, the group moved to the living room as more laughter lasted long into the night as both Elizabeth and Will fulfilled Joshua's dreams by regaling the family with the entire story, in various points of view, of the adventures with Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl's previous, sinister crew.

Young Joshua's eyes began to close, as did Amanda's, and James decided to end the evening a little after 11:00.

"Please, take our carriage. Our driver is more than willing, and I would hate to see you tote a tired wife and son all the way back into town." Will silenced James' protests as his family climbed into the awaiting coach. He lingered behind, his hat in his hands once more as his fingers toyed at the brim; a common sign of concern and agitation with the elder man.

"May I have a word, Mr. and Mrs. Turner?"

"Of course." Elizabeth smiled lightly, leaning into Will's side as she forced a yawn down and focused on the unreadable myriad of emotions swirling in the depths of his grey-blue eyes.

"It is plain to see that….that my wife is not in good health. I fear for the day that her strength fails," he paused, pushing back the welling of tears that blurred his vision. Will's arm unconsciously wrapped tighter about Elizabeth's waist as his heart cried out to help this family in any way.

"If…if it does happen…soon…will you take care of Joshua for us? I don't know what mind I will be in the first few days after it….it happens…." He couldn't meet their gaze, and shook his head with a huff. "Never mind, I apologize. It was not my place to ask this of you."

Elizabeth caught his arm as he tried to make his way down the stairs to the walkway.

"James, we would be more than willing to care for your son if the need arises." She placed a small, chaste kiss to his cheek as he smiled with a grateful sob, shaking each of their hands before mounting and closing the door of the carriage, the coach moving down the walk way and back out to the main street of Port Royal.

Will fixed surprised eyes on his wife as she closed the door quietly, colliding with his strong chest as she faced him with equally startled eyes.

"What?" She asked quietly, searching his face for some hint of the emotions in his confused and astonished chocolate eyes. "Are you angry at what I've just agreed to?"

Will said nothing, merely leaning forward and cupping her face in both his large, callused, yet gentle hands. His lips moved over hers scant centimeters at a time, from barely a feather-light touch to a prodding and pressing insistent pressure. Once more, a calm half chuckle, half cough pulled them from their reverie as Godfried stood with a smirk on his wrinkled face and his eyes looking somewhere on the opposite side of the room.

"Shall I clean up, Sir?"

Without taking his eyes off of his wife, Will nodded and took her hands. Godfried chortled as he turned and made his way back to the kitchen, leaving the couple alone for the night.

Elizabeth had no recollection of how they got up the stairs, nor when they made it to the bedroom. She knew nothing but Wills calm kisses and warm embraces. It wasn't until he closed and locked the bedroom door that she realized they were truly alone. His movements were slow and deliberate; as if he wanted and needed to memorize everything about her like a man does when lost at sea for far too long and returning to find all things different; changed.

His fingers were efficient at revealing the tight bodice beneath the burdensome yet elegant and beautiful dress, helping her carefully step out of the circle it formed while pooling it at her feet. Moving back, he lifted her hands and set them against his chest over the large silver buttons of his black vest. She understood him immediately and her skillful fingers undid the buttons slowly, her eyes never leaving his as he gave her a small smile prior to sliding out of the vest and allowing it to join the pile behind them. His large white shirt was next and she soon had it up and over his head in one smooth motion.

His own arms wrapped around behind her as he blindly attempted to untie the laces of the shift she wore, her lips against his chest hindering his movements. The fingernails of her hands scraped slowly down his ribcage on either side, her lips following the trail previously scorched over his olive and tanned flesh. Moving back up, she allowed him time to undo the laces at her back. Slipping out of their shoes respectively, he lifted her up and onto the crumpled bed, unmade after they had risen that morning. The cool sheets met what skin he had exposed between laces, and it nearly made her gasp at the contrast against her heated flesh.

His lips started on her forehead; moving lower slowly, he tenderly sucked her earlobe between his lips. He paused a brief moment before moving across and laying a small kiss to the tip of her nose then proceeding to the opposite side and administering much the same routine, to her delight. Her hands clutched at his sides as he peppered her cheeks and throat with whispered kisses, all the while avoiding her lips. As his hands and mouth moved lower, so did her dress. Hooked by his deft fingers, it exposed her to his touch inch by inch. His breath fanned her stomach as he rested his chin in the cleft of her belly button, his eyes closed and his fingers drawing lazy circles over her soft, smooth and flat stomach.

"What's bothering you Will?" Her voice was quieter than a whisper, yet a shout in his ear as he opened his eyes slowly letting them adjust on her beautiful face.

"All the time I've wasted, Elizabeth. All the time lost when I could have been spending it here with you." His voice was husky and passionate, his hands clinging to her hips as the soft cotton material scrunched beneath his fingers.

"I don't understand."

He sat up with a frustrated growl and pushed a shaking hand through his unruly curled brown locks. He felt her move behind him, her hands pushing off the last of her clothing as she tugged the sheet up over her body and up under her arms.

"All of my time at the smith, Elizabeth. All of the time that…that you take to go out on your socials, it takes away from us."

"Are you saying that now we are married we are to be confined in this house and live life only with each other?" Her hand reached out unconsciously to try and give him comfort, running circles over his taught, knotted upper back.

"What time have I to spend if it's not by your side?" He asked quietly, facing her as a solitary tear dripped to his cheek, cascading down and disappearing in the stubble on his chin. "Seeing….seeing James pining for his wife as he watches her die…my heart cannot resist switching places with him and taking into account things from his point of view."

She nodded and slid forward, keeping the sheet about her for modesty as she wrapped willow thin, but strong arms, about her husband and set light kisses to his back and shoulders.

"You are not him and we are not his family. Both you and I know that I am far too feisty to be taken by a simple illness or a common cold." Her attempt at humor struck a clear chord for his low, reverberated chuckle vibrated against her lips. His sniffle was muffled by his hand as he wiped angrily at the tears littering his cheeks. He let out a calming breath as her hands massaged his tight shoulders and back, moving lower and lower and setting him in a mode of relaxation.

Her hands skimmed across his sides to his chest, kneading the muscles there as much as she had on his body's opposite. His breathing faltered, however, when her hands reached the buckle of his trousers and cleverly unhooked the large clasp. Her fingers teased the bulge at the front of his breeches causing him to suck in a deep breath before catching her hand with his much larger one.

"You tempt far too often for your own good, Mrs. Turner." He growled with an accent, as usual, much more cockney and a tone much lower than his usual baritone as his eyes flared from a deep chocolate brown to an almost russet black.

Rotating quickly, his hand slowly followed the lumped form beneath the sheet as he traced her ankle with soft, caressing fingertips above the acquiescent cover. Reaching her hip, his mouth latched to the pulse point at its juncture, his breath and tongue moistening the cloth and seeping through to her flesh as her fingers tangled in the curly tresses at the nape of his neck.

Inching the fabric down as his mouth moved up, his teeth scraped her side causing a squeal of pleasure and surprise to burst from her lips and her arms both pulled and pushed him away.

"How is it that you know the most sensitive spots I have, as well as find new ones each night?" Her breathless question wafted to his ears as he laughed low in his throat, the very sound causing a tingling jolt to spread from one nerve ending to the other.

"Well, I concern myself with your pleasure only, love. If I can make you giggle and laugh like a school girl one time, odds are I can find that same spot and make you moan the next. Though…both must be under completely different circumstances." He grinned, seeing the surprised, yet not disheartened, look on her face.

"I do believe you are being far too bold, William Turner."

"I do believe that in this room, it is not a question of boldness, my love, but of passion." She laughed as she felt him leave her for a brief moment to remove his last article of clothing before his body covered hers once more. His mouth fastened to her belly button, his tongue delving in causing her to try and squirm away though his hands held her in place beneath him.

He moved inch my inch up her stomach, reverently kissing each pert mound before one hand propped himself up above her while the other wrapped about her waist and pulled her body flush against his own. His hardness pressed into her stomach as his mouth finally descended upon hers, their tongues battling for dominance as her hands rested on either side of his ribcage and her feet wrapped around his calves.

Stars flashed as they joined, much as they had dozens of times before, though this instance held no urgency. His hips thrust at a near snails pace, and hers matching, as he lay watching his wife, and she him, with their foreheads pressed together, their breathing and heartbeat in synch, and his love swelling for the woman who had given him everything. His eyes closed as their tempo increased, slowly sending them over one peak and then dipping them into a valley before repeating the process again and again. Finally, as his muscles began to protest and sweat beaded both of their bodies, their climax's took each of them into a realm unimagined as they lay entwined and panting in an equal and shared embrace.

Her face was buried in his neck as she cried out her pleasure against his dewy skin, tasting pure Will as she tried desperately to calm her breathing and steady her heart. Will fought to do the same as he inhaled her sweet floral scent, mixed with sweat and a light wafting of perfume as strands of her hair clung to his perspiring forehead and cheeks. His body went completely limp, and he avoided crushing his wife by rolling to his side, both arms wrapped about her in a tight grip.

Silence, save for the sounds of Port Royal drifting through their open veranda doors, echoed about them; only their breathing was audible, though the love was palpable.

"I'll always be here to care for you, my Elizabeth." He swore, his voice raw and raspy as he leaned forward, catching her lips in a breathlessly slow and loving kiss, his tongue sweeping across her pouted and kiss-swollen mouth before pulling back and tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder.

"I know." She smiled lightly, setting a peck to his chest as she drifted off with a newfound sense of fullness; half tranquility and peace, and the other a raging fire that no living thing could tame, save the man laying beside her.

A/N: Woo hoo! Well, one more chapter to go. JUST ONE! Then we'll be moving on into longer, and probably more plot driven, stories. Hope you enjoyed, I was in a frisky yet romantic mood when I wrote it.

Liz