The Ocean, the Pearl, and...
by Marquesate

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Elizabeth giggled, quickly clasping a small hand over her mouth. Her honey coloured locks shimmered in the moonlight when her head whipped around and she tugged on Will's hand to make him move faster. They shouldn't be here, not in the middle of the night, but adventure was in her spirit, and pirate blood was in her husband's veins.

"Come on Will!" She whispered, and flashes of her bright, anticipating smile made his heart lurch in response, he could hardly wait, making love to his beautiful wife on the deserted bay would be not a first, but a rare opportunity. He hurried along and chuckled when in her haste he had to encircle her slender waist with both hands to keep Elizabeth from stumbling.

"Don't break your pretty neck before I have the opportunity to cover it with kisses." His breathless whisper reminded her that there were numerous guards positioned to their left up on the fort and the steep, deadly cliffs loomed to the right, with them hurrying along the small path in the middle. Soon they would reach the secluded bay, their way was winding down already. More carefully than before, with Will making certain his beloved wife would not slip, did they pick their way downwards. After several minutes they were rewarded with the gentle sound of waves lapping against a sandy beach in the shelter of a rock encircled bay. They stood for a moment to get a glimpse over the blackness of the ocean, with Will squinting his eyes when he thought he could see something, a shape, beyond the outcrop of rocks, but it surely could not be. Why would the Black Pearl be here, there was no reason and no communication from their notorious friend. Thus Will did not share his thought. Instead he leaned to kiss Elizabeth's neck, his hands starting to wander across a well corseted waist towards her lovely swelling bosom, when she swatted his hands away and tugged on them instead. "Silly man, come on down to the bay," she laughed quietly, despite being out of earshot of the guards.

Eager to make the rest of their way down to the shimmering sand, Will just nodded and they hurried further down. Light steps of two lovers, who could hardly wait to feel the still warm sand under their bodies, and the cooling breeze on their skin, until Elizabeth suddenly stopped without warning. They were close to the bay and almost on its sand, when Will nearly ploughed into her, unable to fully stop in time. She held her hands out in warning and whispered "Ssshh..... quiet!" pointing to the opposite side of the small secluded space. "I hear someone?" she asked more like a question, unsure of what she had heard, and thus they stood in the shelter of a bush for a while in silence, straining their ears before creeping carefully forward. Caution should have made them go back, for smugglers and pirates could frequent this bay, but caution was a word neither Elizabeth nor William Turner had ever taken great heed of. After a few moments they reached the sand and suddenly Will heard a voice, making him drag Elizabeth into the shelter of a nearby rock. They could do nothing but listen, wide eyed and in something akin to shock when both of them recognised the voice in an instant.

"Been far too long this time, mate." The familiar voice of Jack Sparrow drawled low, but clearly audible. Elizabeth and Will stared towards the sound of the voice and after a few moments they were able to make out a shape in the partly clouded moonlight, which leaned against the rocks, or was that two shapes? Will stared at his wife and pulled his shoulders up towards his ears in a confused shrug, shaking his head.

The sound of liquid sloshing in a bottle and the tell-tale shadow of a slender man in profile, drinking from a bottle of rum. Then a chuckle, and neither could say whose voice it was that had let out this deep and soft sound, for surely Jack could not talk to himself alone near Port Royal in the middle of the night? "Been in fact so long that I seriously started to consider molesting Gibbs or Anamaria, and as ye know, luv, I wouldn't 'ave survived either of 'em." Jack's voice appeared to be somewhat huskier, and when the chuckle could be heard again, it became obvious to both of the secret listeners, that it was certainly not their pirate captain's voice.

"Now, now, CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow," a very cultured, deep voice, as smooth as black velvet and as soft as hot cocoa, answered with clear amusement, "I thought you would rather avail yourself of your pretty blond cabin boy than risk your life making advances to Miss Anamaria, and I can hardly imagine Mr Gibbs being the target of your wayward affections."

Elizabeth gasped in shock. Will clasped his calloused blacksmith hand over her soft lips, but his own shock was no less severe, for the voice they could hear was absolutely unmistakably the voice of none other than Commodore Norrington. The two shadows they were able to discern in the near distance did not seem to have heard anything of the gasp, far too intent on each other, and oblivious to their surroundings, clearly not anticipating unexpected, and unwanted witnesses.

"Ye know me, mate." The smirk in the voice could be heard by the two hidden listeners, and their eyes saw moonlight glinting off the bottle of rum when it was handed from one man to the other and the shock at seeing the Commodore actually taking a cautious sip was almost greater than the first shock of realising it was he with whom Jack was having a... what was he having? Meeting? Rendezvous? Tête a tête? Any of those ideas was hardly fit to be easily accepted by either husband or wife. "I told the lad I'd not bother 'im till 'e knows what 'e wants and frankly, I like me lovers to know what they're doin'."

The bottle being once more handed back, movements could be seen in the moonlight by arms that were clad in nothing but a very white bleached shirt, shimmering dully in the cool blue moonlight. Those arms were going around the pirate's slender waist to soon drop further down. Will's eyes were as large as tea dish saucers, unable to believe what he saw, and what he saw made him want to cover Elizabeth's eyes, to keep her from witnessing how the Commodore's hands cupped the Captain's buttocks rather firmly. "Do you?" the slightly nasal tone of the upper-class class voice betrayed the man's amusement and a huskiness matching Jack's. "Does that include lovers who slap you afterwards, until the colour of your cheeks matches the colour of your bloodshot eyes after a night of debauchery. Is that so, Jack?" Once more the soft chuckle could be heard, accompanied by a corresponding groan from Jack, and a very distinctive hip wiggle and grind. Now that the clouds had parted completely, the moonlight was eerily bright and made leaving their secluded spot impossible for the two silent witnesses, even if they had wanted to. As it were, they crouched rooted to the spot in receding shock and growing wonder.

"Perhaps I should add slapping to my repertoire, what do you think?" The reply came quickly this time, "Nay luv. Ye're right perfect jus' the way ye are, and ye know it. After all... " here the voice dropped a little more and appeared to be muffled, with the black haired head moving forward towards the Commodore's neck "... ye 'ave captured Captain Jack Sparrow, 'course ye're perfect!" Will would be hard pressed to describe the voice anything other than purring seductively, and he was forced to suddenly shake his head to get rid of the image of a man-sized sensuous black cat stretching alongside the larger and broader frame of the ever so crisp and neat and straight laced Commodore. Straight laced... Will suddenly felt the urge to groan but from a different reason than Jack had earlier. He would have to rectify and reassess this characterisation of the good Commodore.

Elizabeth choose this very moment to nudge Will, and her face was a picture that would have made her husband burst into laughter in any other given situation, but not right now. He shook his head in answer to her silent panicked question if they should or could leave. No, it was too dangerous, the last thing they'd want to risk was to be detected by those two. Somehow Will felt that privacy was the greatest gift they could give both of them, and apart from not wanting to risk getting possibly hanged or possibly marooned, both of those men had helped save their lives in the recent past, and he'd rather sit and try not to listen than risk being detected. Elizabeth understood and making a few desperate gestures with nervously fluttering hands, she managed to convey the hope the two men might be distracted soon enough for them to be able to creep away from the bay.

It seemed they were in luck, because the bottle was once more raised, once more handed over in a silence that was only interrupted by the rustling of clothes when arms were moved and hands wandered, and then there was the sound of glass hitting sand when the empty bottle was dropped. Soon it was followed by another grinding movement of those slender hips, eliciting a moan from the man pressed with his back against the rocks. "Jack... " the Commodore's voice could be heard with such need delivered in just that one word, that Elizabeth wondered if she would have ever been able to evoke such a reaction in the same man, and her heart ached just a little when she realised that the passion she could sense, the longing she could hear, would have never been hers, for she would have been a 'fine woman' but never what her former fiancée uttered right now. "I missed you, you scoundrel, so much I thought I would go insane. I could not make our meeting last month..." once again he trailed off, obviously very distracted, and soft moans continued instead, accompanied by the sound of kisses and fabric being removed by very nimble fingers "I could only hope you received the message." When he continued the voice was huskier, and had changed from dark velvet to the purr of a black panther. "Three months Jack!" it seemed he wanted to continue, but a sudden movement stilled his words, and the man who was being talked to took a small step back, regarding the one before him with a most uncharacteristic stillness and a tilted head. All the while his back was to the two onlookers, who remained carefully hidden and with pounding hearts, and who could not see the gold glittering smile.

"Ssshh luv." Neither Will nor Elizabeth had ever heard such tenderness in Jack's voice, and it made Will's throat constrict and thank the gods that he had accompanied his flamboyant friend on a fool's errand that had turned out to be one man's quest for revenge and his pride's survival. "I'm 'ere now. I missed ye and ye know it, me 'andsome Commodore. Don't ye, James?" The answer came with a smile in the voice and with hands, stripping the slender, deeply tanned body of its shirt "Yes I do, as insane as it may be, but I do know it." Jack chuckled softly, and all the hidden two could see was how the two bodies had lost their shirts and were gravitating back together. Then a whisper from the infamous Captain Sparrow, which sounded frightfully similar to a man in love, without ever admitting to it, even to his lover. "The Ocean..." the sound of kisses, slow movements, the jingling of beads and leisurely but purposeful movements of hands on breeches, "The Black Pearl...." the voice grew huskier, and the kisses continued, with Will and Elizabeth trying not to stare at the shadows of the two men, but unable to tear their gaze away from the scene in front of them. The smaller one started to kiss his way down the broad chest of the taller who leaned against the rocks, and who was for once sans his powdered wig, sans his breeches now, sans anything in fact, "...and You..."

Then there was nothing but a gasp and a strangled, urgent sound, a name breathed out with more desire than either of the two witnesses could ever have imagined to hear from the Commodore's lips, when the man in front of him finally knelt on the sand, with busy hands and worshipping lips. "Jack!"

For a moment both involuntary witnesses stared, the young woman in disbelief and with the distant impression that she really had not wanted to know, shouldn't have witnessed and she had no idea how she could ever react to either man the way she had done before. The young man with disturbing thoughts of a similar nature, but added to this the sudden realisation that now was the one and only chance they had to escape, and he tugged on Elizabeth's hands to make her come with him. Together they crept as stealthily as they could manage back onto the path, but those two lovers in the bay would not have noticed anything anyway. They were too intent on what was solely theirs; their own world, whenever they managed to meet. When the jolly roger was furled and the uniform was in the closet, they were nothing but two men.