Title: An Eye for a Bargain  11/?

Genre: Action/Romance

Pairing: J/OC, W/E, N/OC 

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am serious. Even this machine is a rental. Pirates of the Caribbean, all its characters/places/things belongs to Disney.  I take no credit for the recognizable. I make no profit from this.

Summary: A romance of sorts for Jack Sparrow.

Notes: Italicized words denote thoughts.

Comments:

~*~*~*~

She couldn't help being worried for him, despite all that he had done to her. She cursed herself for the natural protective instinct that took hold every time someone close by was in need. She'd been sitting here beside him now, soaking his brow with cool water, patiently waiting for the fever to break.

Jack, oblivious to his surroundings, would mutter incoherent thoughts into the still of the night. Most of what he uttered was incomprehensible, not that she was interested in what he had to say. Yet, every so often, his cries would be coherent. The last hours had been most telling, as she'd heard his raspy voice give life to French, German, Italian, Latin and even some Oriental dialect she wasn't familiar with. It revealed much: Jack was an educated man. An educated pirate was an interesting development, indeed. Thus, she'd entertained herself with sweet imaginings of where Jack had begun his life. The romantic in her concluded that he must have been of noble birth, and had been forced from his home after some horrible tragedy. He now sailed the open seas seeking revenge, fame and fortune.

You're an idiot, Abby. Grinning like a fool at her fiction, she then imagined him being pardoned, and returning to his torn homeland to revive the ailed country he was heir to, with her at his side.

How romantic.

Well, there had to be some means of making, or at least pretending, her life was pleasant. Oh, and I suppose once Captain Sparrow has relinquished his hold on this treacherous life, you'll willingly lie beneath him? I can imagine it now, his hands on your virgin flesh, thrusting you further into a river of ecstasy.

Her cheeks flushed scarlet at such thoughts. She glanced distastefully at the weakened man in the bed, trying to envision herself in such a position with him. Nay, it wasn't happening. Dream world Jack was much more pleasant, a real gentlemen. He bathed on a regular basis, and such things were important.

She sighed, and stood to stretch her tired muscles. Feeling herself growing frustrated, she began to pace the small space of the cabin. Strangely, she'd not left this confined space at all since Sparrow's fall from grace. Now why is that, Abby? Why indeed. It's because you told him you wouldn't leave. He ordered you to remain, and thus, you have obeyed his commend. Obeyed his command.

Obey.

Now there was a tricky word. She'd been pondering her wedding vows oft in the last hours, as the days melted into one and she became completely unaware of her surroundings. The only thing she could be sure of was Jack Sparrow: Captain of the Black Pearl, her husband.

Her husband who now lay in a feverish state, and nothing could be said for his survival.

Now, if he were to die, that would make you a widow, Abby.

"Stop such foolish thoughts." He isn't going to die.

"Not so long as I'm on watch."

Hatred was a strong word. Many used it oft in their descriptions of those they felt ill toward. While she certainly harbored no delusions about her real relationship with Jack Sparrow, she could hardly be said to hate him either. For in fact, he'd done her no real harm. She was still alive, and so were the other innocent souls whom had come into contact with him since their meeting. He treated her decently enough, even going so far as to protect her from the members of his crew he didn't trust.

Since she'd called out for help at his fall, only two crewmembers had breached the chamber to see their Captain: Mr. Gibbs, and the woman, Annamaria.  They'd not stayed long, though they had expressed considerable concern over Sparrow's health. They'd provided her with all that she asked, and even that which she didn't: bringing a tray of bread and cheese for her own consumption while she held vigil at Jack's bedside.

She'd done everything she could think of to speed Jack's recovery, but she was by no means a skilled healer, and there was no surgeon onboard the ship. Though she tried to deny it, there was a fear that had festered in her heart, a fear that he would never wake up. Returning to his side, she took his hand in her own, holding it gently. "Please wake up, Captain." She whispered. "I need you to wake up. I need you to protect me." The admission stung her deeply, but she wasn't so foolish as to believe she was capable of managing herself on board a pirate ship, far away from any one she knew. If Jack passed, she might as well jump off the side of the ship and feed herself to the sharks.

She felt the tears ebb at the corners of her eyes, and her voice shook as the fear took grip on her heart. "Please wake up…."

~*~*~*~

He'd been out for several hours. More likely several days, Jack. He was fairly certain that he was still aboard The Pearl, and that the ship was still on course, but he couldn't be positive. Gibbs and Anna would take care of things, in that he could trust.

He'd been drifting close to oblivion, too close for comfort. He knew the truth of it now: that a man could feel death knocking on his doorstep, and the knocking was bloody loud in his case. Yet, sometime after it had begun, the knocking had stopped. He'd heard a pleasant voice, singing softly up above. It was peaceful, and smooth, though it tended to crack with emotion every now and then.

The woman. Your wife, Jack. She's calling for you.

"Please wake up, Captain."

Oy, he could hear her all right. It was a relief to know she was still there, even though he didn't care for the way she rambled on about her foolish daydreams. He had however, be pleased to note that he featured quite prominently in those daydreams. His ego had ballooned hearing her talk about walking around on his arm, but had promptly deflated hearing her wonder about his noble roots.

She was dreaming all right. Couldn't have been further form the truth in his opinion. Now, if only he could wake up and correct that terrible misunderstanding. If they let him wake up, that is. He started to wonder if anyone besides this girl would care if he were to wake up. And he wondered why she even cared at all.  Surely, she'd be better off is he were to stay sleeping?

 His head had been foggy before, and he was pretty sure he'd revisited his entire life in the span of an hour or two, but he was feeling better. Slightly. He felt a surge of energy run through him then, and he knew he would wake up. He just had to going about doing so. Groggily, he forced his eyes open. The world didn't spin this time, and taking that as a good sign, he made to sit up.

"Jack!" She screeched, wrecking havoc on his miserable ears. Scrunching his face up in pain, he glared at her from across the bed.

"Luv," he hissed, his throat sore from misuse. "I'm glad to see you know my name, but would ye kindly quiet down? I can hear you just fine."

She blushed with shame, but held her tongue as requested. It was rough going, but she did manage to get him settled comfortably among the bed pillows after a few minutes of effort. "Would you care for some tea, Captain? It might help with the pain." He nodded, and watched her head for the door. Much to his surprise, she didn't leave the room, merely opened the door, and called for assistance. "Mr. Gibbs? The Captain is awake, would someone mind bringing tea?" A muffled shout could be heard above, as well as the telltale heavy footfalls of Gibbs making his way to the Captain's quarters.

The Captain smiled. "You alright, Jack?" Gibbs called.

"I'll be fine, Gibbs. We still on course?" His first mate appeared in the doorway, and Abby stepped aside, and bowed her head respectfully, pretending not to hear.

"Aye, sir, that we are. We'll be reaching the port in a day or two, provided the weather holds."

Jack nodded at this information, settling more comfortably into the pillows for support. "Gibbs, I trust you not to spread any rumors about my current state, savvy?" The look of desperation on his face told the other man everything he needed to know.

"Savvy, sir. All the crew needs to know is that you and the Missus are occupied."

Grinning wolfishly, the Captain nodded. "Well said, Mr. Gibbs. I trust you can handle yourself?"

Sensing his dismissal, Gibbs nodded, and returned above deck. Annamaria appeared a scant second later, bearing a tray with tea, and a few dry biscuits. She said nothing, but her smile was more than indicative of her present mood. She winked at Jack before closing the door behind her on her way out.

Having not moved from her place in the corner throughout the exchange, Abby now stepped lightly across to the tray, and began brewing a suitable concoction for her ill husband's throat. "You didn't leave the cabin." Jack stated, watching her through half-lidded eyes.

She swallowed, "No, I didn't."

"Why?" Fully alert now, his coal-black eyes tore through her, and she knew she couldn't lie.

"Because you told me not to." She refused to look at him as she said it, instead keeping her eyes focused on the task at hand.

Because you told me not to. The simple statement echoed in his mind, and he could not deny the satisfaction he felt at hearing it. He accepted her offering of tea, but declined the biscuit. His appetite was far from normal at the moment.

She settled herself in the chair beside the bed, but made no aim at conversation. Suddenly, the small holes in the floorboards were quiet interesting to her. Jack watched her with interest, choking down the bitter drink quickly; he then set the empty cup on the bedside table. "Come here, Abby." He asked, holding his arms open in invitation.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at him wearily, hesitating with her response. "Is that an order? Are you commanding me to come to you?" She made no effort to hide the bitterness in her tone.

Jack sighed, but held fast. "No, it's not a command. I'm asking." He waited for that to sink in, before repeating the request. "Come here, please."

She considered for a moment, thinking back on how desperate the last day had been. How afraid she had been. She considered what the man was offering her now, and decided, albeit with some hesitation, that it was a good thing. Slowly, she removed herself from her chair, and slipped into the offered embrace. 

She had almost lost something today, and the idea of it had scared her to death. Now, here in Jack's arms, she felt safe. She didn't know how, but that wasn't important. It's safe now. He's not going to disappear and leave you alone. Rest.

Suddenly realizing that she'd not slept in two days, she allowed the fatigue to take hold of her body, and succumbed to her dreams.

For his part, Jack couldn't explain what he was feeling. That this girl had nursed him back to health was obvious, but he found himself surprised by that. Now, here she was, mere days away from hating his guts, curled in his arms, sound asleep. He was suddenly very aware of her age, and just what effect his actions must have had on her. He didn't want to think about what might have happened to her if he had died.

He sighed.

Yer a bloody scallywag, Jack. Why the hell did ye have to grow a bloody conscious now?

He didn't know.

~*~*~*~