PRELUDE TO EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Welsh Wench]

  Honour looked out the door and saw no sign of Jack. 'Alright, Jackie, my love, let me do a bit of snooping to see what you have been up to while I have been away.'
She opened up the bottom drawer.
Nothing of significance except....
She pulled out a pair of pantalets in white silk. 'Hey, these aren't mine!' Her face burned red. 'What do you care? It's over. Long over. And in a few days, this won't concern you ever again.'
She flung the armoire open. 'My gowns! The yellow one...the red one....the blue one from Paris....
She held it up to her nose. 'This isn't jasmine...it's roses. And cheap ones at that! The blue one....gardenias?'
Each gown had a distinct perfumed odor. She held the blue dress up. Under the arm was a big rip. The yellow gown had a stain on the front. Merlot? And some sort of sauce was on the sleeve.

Just at that moment Jack came in. He quietly locked the door behind him, slipping the key into his pocket.
She yelled at Jack, "You let your cut-rate whores wear my clothes?"
Honour threw down the gowns and raised her hand to slap Jack. He caught her hand just in time. She whispered vehemently, "You bloody bastard! These gowns were from Paris!"

"Let me start by saying those 'whores' you referred to were rather expensive. And why should you be so upset, given that you've been out of the picture for some time, love? I never expected to see you again."
"I don't care if you paid them in Aztec gold and you swung on chandeliers! What makes me mad is the fact that they squeezed their sausage bodies into my clothes!The blue one looks like it can't be fixed. What did she have, arms like an ox? To split a dress like that! And she must have had a hand-eye coordination problem because it looks like merlot cascading down the front of my yellow one!"
She threw the dress in Jack's face.
"If it can't be cleaned, you owe me one yellow dress! From Paris! Buy yourself as many strumpets as you want! I haven't exactly been sitting around a widow's walk knitting and waiting for you to come home! And whatever trinkets you have that you THINK I may be mildly curious about, well, I suggest you pitch any of them into the sea. Because like the Sun key, guaranteed in six months you will want it back!"

All of a sudden, she got a curious look on her face. "Wait...what? This ship...it--it's MOVING!"
She ran over to the port window, the port of Bridgetown getting smaller in the distance.
"We're moving! Oh no you don't, you bastard!"
She rushed to the door, shouldering Jack aside in the process. Furiously, she twisted the door knob and tried to rattle the door open. But nothing she did worked.
"OPEN THIS DOOR!" she shouted.
Jack leaned casually against the large wooden table, pretending to pick dirt from under his nails.
"Say please," he said casually.
"Go to hell," she replied.
"Impolite, but heartfelt. I can respect that. But I'm not opening the door."
"Why the hell not? How dare you kidnap me, Jack Wolfe! This wasn't part of our agreement!"
"Agreed, this wasn't what we agreed on. But I knew you'd never cooperate if I told you WHERE the chest has to be opened."
"Let me guess," said Honour sarcastically. "Somewhere in the middle of the ocean, under a full moon with both of us naked?"
"Close," said Jack flatly.
"WHAT?! Oh, hell no. Over my dead body!"
"How melodramatic of you. There will be no dead bodies, at least not yours or mine. That wouldn't be much fun for either of us. Not to mention certain ethical considerations."
"Fine," she fumed. "Just where does this damned thing have to be opened?"
"It has to be placed inside an altar, in the middle of a temple on a remote island."
"That's a feeble lie, even for you, Jack. You expect me to believe you would kidnap me just to drag me to some island to open a stupid chest? All right, exactly where is this mythical island? What is it near? Show me on a map."
"Um, well..."
"Well, what?" Her face fell suddenly. "Oh, God, please no. You don't know where it is, do you?"
"Not exactly. But I have a pretty good idea...."
"Then the island IS real."
"Yes, it is. What made you suddenly believe me?"
"Because, Jack, only you would come up with some half-baked plan to kidnap me and haul me off to some island you don't know the location of, because you're just that crazy!"
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Whatever. I'll take it."

Jack sat down in one of the chairs.
"Honour, you're right. I didn't plan this. Running into you in that tavern was a complete stroke of luck."
"Bad luck, if you ask me."
"Let me finish, all right? We can split hairs later. I need that key to open the chest, and I knew you'd never just hand it over. That would be too easy, and easy is the last thing I'd call our relationship."
"You're right about that," she replied. "I'd call it nonexistent."
"Which brings me to why you're my guest aboard El Lobo. That's the only way I could see getting the second key to the island. So let me sweeten the deal."
"This I have to hear."
"As per our original deal, you get half of whatever is in the chest. But to guarantee your safety, you get to retain possession of the key until we unlock the chest."
"And if I decide to say to hell with your deal and chuck the key overboard? What then?"
Jack made a pained expression. "That's where the new deal isn't so sweet. You throw the key overboard, and you get to join it."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

"You wouldn't dare," she said defiantly.
"Maybe. Maybe not. I might show mercy on you, for old time's sake. We'll pass close to an island used by an old... I wouldn't call him a friend, but a colleague. I could drop you off there and see if he'll eventually take you back to Barbados. But I have to warn you, he's not terribly fond of blondes. Not after one crippled his hands."
Honour's face blanched. "That won't be necessary. I shall play by the rules as long as you live up to your end of the bargain."
"You have my word."
"As a pirate? HA!"
"How about as someone who used to be your husband."
"Not much better, Jack. But seeing as how I am a prisoner here, I have no choice."

Jack leaned over. He took her chemise neckline and pulled her close to him. He slowly ran his finger across the swell of her dress. She felt her heart skip a beat. He leaned in close and she unconsciously closed her eyes and started to part her lips. He whispered, "I'll be taking this."
He reached in and deftly removed her bodice dagger.
Her eyes flew open.
"And I'll be taking this too." He unsheathed her rapier.
"Such lovely, shiny cutlery. Off to the armoury with it! You will get it back when this is all over. I prefer you vulnerable. In more ways than one."
Jack took a step forward as she took one back. Back. Forward. Back. Forward. Until there was no more backing up since she hit the wall.
He leaned forward.
"Feeling a bit naked, love? No weapons to protect yourself with?"
She found she couldn't tear her eyes away from his. Just like it was months ago.
"And...and where am I to sleep? Certainly...oh, no. No! You intend to ravish me!"
Jack opened his mouth to offer some pithy reply, but found he was beginning to lose himself in her ever so blue eyes, just as he had so many times before. He swallowed hard and put his hand up in between them as he collected his thoughts and figuratively established some space between himself and his wife.
"As... tempting as that sounds, love, no. No, I promised you this would be a business transaction. For the sake of what good faith remains, I'll respect that. But for the time being, I'm going to put your toys in a safe place. You can have them back once we get to the island."
He turned to walk to the door, but stopped and looked back at her.
"That is, unless you really had your heart set on getting ravished, in which case I'd be more than happy..."
His voiced trailed off as she began to glower at him.
"I'll take that as a no. In that case, You can have Briggs' quarters. I suppose I should have asked him first, but I can take his yelling over yours."
"Of course if you do find yourself all...bothered, I'll leave my door unlocked.
"Besides, I'd rather you get used to being around me again. Nothing deflates a man's....ego more than you yelling out another captain's name when he's tupping you."

He turned and walked out the door without so much as a backward glance at her. Inexplicably, she felt a solitary tear trail down her cheek. She wiped it with the back of her hand. She felt degraded. How dare Jack turn what wonderful thing that happens between a man and a woman into something cheap and shameful.
She sat there, her fingers idly twisting the fringe on the coverlet. A feeling of worthlessness swept over her. But suddenly she felt an anger overtaking her humiliation.
How dare he...how DARE he?
If anyone knew about tawdry relationships, it was Jack Wolfe, equal opportunity debaucher.She reached into her boot and stood up. He's no better than me and to equate it to.....sheep. Sheep!
Resolutely she strode over to the door, her hurt fueling every step.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack took out his keys and opened the small door where weapons were kept. He unceremoniously dumped her weaponry where the rest was and locked it.
Suddenly a  sense of shame overcame him for using his barbs to humiliate Honour.
He momentarily thought about going back to the cabin and apologising- in a roundabout way, of course- for his cutting remarks. But just then he heard the cabin door swing open and the sound of boot heels striking the deck. Angrily.
'No point in going back to offer an apology when she's on the way to demand one,' he thought.
He locked the armoury door and quickly made his way to the weather deck. The more witnesses, the less likely she would be to make a big scene, he reasoned.

Jack squinted as he stepped into the sunlight.
"I didn't expect to see ye for at least another four hours," Briggs called from the quarterdeck.
"Not bloody likely," laughed Jack. "Things are under control. We can leave it at that."
"No crockery thrown this time?"
"She's cooperating peaceably enough---"

"BASTARD!!"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Startled by the outburst, Jack looked over to where Honour stood at the door to the companionway.
"Ah! Honour! There you are!" he said as he backed away gingerly. "I, ah, was about to come and talk to you."
She continued to stare daggers at him. "Were you, now?"
"Yes! I, you see, I was thinking about what I said--" His words broke off when he backed into the mainmast. "-- about what I said earlier."
"Really? When I'm cooperating so peaceably? Well, how's THIS for peaceable?!"
In a flash, she launched the sgian dubh she had pulled from her boot. It whistled through the air as it flew at Jack. He flinched, and the blade caught the material of his shirt, pinning him to the mast.
"ARE YOU INSANE??!! You could have killed me!"
"Nonsense. I was aiming at your head."
He grabbed the hilt of the short knife. It refused to come free from the mast.
"You nearly hit my good shoulder, woman! I don't need a hole in that one too!"
Honour put her hands on her hips and struck a pose that prominently showcased her ample cleavage.
"Really? I know how fond you are of symmetry."
Jack still struggled with the knife as she sauntered over to him. She whispered in his ear, 'I guess this is the closest you will get to being nailed.'
By this time, Jack's crew gathered around but stayed at a respectable distance.
'just wait till I get my hands free....damn...this is  silk....uh....'

Amusing as it was to watch Jack's shirt impaled on the mainmast with him in it, she decided it would be best to retire to a place untill he cooled off.
Preferably Tortuga.
She scampered quickly down the companionway but not before she yelled her parting thoughts.
'Tup you and the ship you sailed in on!'

Briggs put the pipe in his mouth to hide the smirk on his face as he went over to help Jack free himself.
"Embedded too deep right now, Jack. 'fraid the shirt has to...'RIIIIPPPP!

As the force of the shirt gave way, Jack found himself on the deck looking up at the crow's nest and a sky of blue. His head rebounded off the teak. He scrambled to his feet. "What are you looking at, you scabrous dogs?! All of you, to your posts! Don't make me say it twice!"
Josiah's back was turned, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Holding his aching head, Jack looked at Briggs' smirking face. "Josiah, do not make me kill you today..."

Jack began to notice something other than the sea breeze on his back. It was the sound of his men chuckling. His face began to burn hot with embarrassment.
"That's it, the show is over. Back to your posts, the lot of you! Unless you're willing to spend the next two weeks without a drop of rum!"
The men dispersed, returning to their duties. Jack watched them for a moment before turning to talk to Briggs.

However, Briggs was in no state to talk. He stood there looking at his captain, with his hand over his mouth. Jack couldn't tell if he was hiding a smile or stifling an outburst of laughter.
"Not you too," grumbled Jack.
"I'll say this for Honour, she ain't lost a bit of fire."
"No, no she hasn't," said Jack. In spite of the humiliation he'd just experienced, he couldn't help but feel a certain admiration for her. Once again, she proved herself his equal. No wonder he could never get over her.
"I take it ye'll be findin' another shirt, Jack? Or is this a new fashion statement?"
"Wise-arse. The ship is yours til I get back. With a new shirt."
Briggs offered him Honour's knife. "Souvenir of your busy day?"
"Keep the damned thing. I've quite done with it," muttered Jack as he stalked off.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Honour walked quickly down the hall to Jack's quarters to pick up a few of the less destroyed garments. The door reverberated as she slammed it shut. She caught several books as they started to fall from the shelf. What boring books! Oh, what have we here? She pulled a book out and could scarcely contain a giggle. Japanese prints, huh?
She hastily put the book back and picked up another one.
'Kama.....Kama Sutra. Kama Sutra? What is this?'
She opened it and quickly closed it. Curious, she opened it again. 'I didn't know that was physically possible...I guess if you don't mind the blood rushing to your head...'

Putting the books back on the shelf, Honour picked up a few of the dresses with the lesser amounts of stains. 'Perhaps a day in the fresh air from the crossbeam will get Eau de 'Ho out of my dresses.'

As she headed out, she turned back to the cabin and picked up the Kama Sutra. Thumbing through it, she began to look closely. Quite a few pages were dog-eared and there were checkmarks next to the graphic pictures. Once in a while a name was scrawled on the bottom. Her face began to burn when she realized she had stumbled across the equivalent of Jack's little black book.  She hastily looked for her name on any of them but the pictures didn't seem familiar and her name was nowhere to be found.
'You bloody bastard!' she hissed. 'You've been keeping score. Well, let's see Jack Wolfe try it without a manual. I mean...with someone else.'
She shoved the book under her armful of clothes and headed back towards Briggs' quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Did you hear that?" asked Jack. He collapsed the spyglass he was using to survey the horizon and turned to Briggs at the ship's wheel.
"Felt it, too," answered Briggs. "I figured we brushed over some debris."
"No, that was right below our feet." Jack thought for a moment. "I'm going below to check things out. It would serve me right, leaving Honour alone-- I mean, unguarded."
Briggs nodded slowly. "Aye, I'm sure ye did."
Jack shook his head and made his way back to his quarters. Everything seemed quiet. He paused at the closed door to Briggs' cabin and raised his hand to knock. But he reconsidered, letting his hand drop to his side.

He went on to his cabin, and paused as he turned the doorknob. It seemed oddly loose. When the door swung open, it was missing its distinctive groaning squeak. Looking around the cabin, he saw only a couple of the dresses Honour had thrown a conniption over earlier. Jack smiled to himself.

Jack went to his desk and sat down, taking a moment to mark the ship's current position on the map. The island had to be on this course, he just knew it. Or was trying mightily to convince himself it was. He tapped a ruler absentmindedly on the desk. Whether he was right or not, it would be another two days, maybe more, before he knew for sure. If he was wrong, then kidnapping Honour had been a terrible mistake.

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe, now that some time had passed, they could talk things out...
He shook his head and laughed at the notion. Pure silly thought, that's all it was. Still, he felt a twinge of... guilt? Guilt for dragging her off on some wild expedition? Maybe if he'd taken her along on the trip to Martinique...

"Martinique!" he said with a slap of the ruler on the desktop.
He went quickly to a large sea chest that had been shoved in the corner. He opened the heavy lid and smiled with satisfaction. There, still on top and undamaged, was a large box. Undamaged save for the bow, which had seen better days. It contained a red dress, lovely and lacy, that he had bought as a coming home gift for Honour.
The dress was still in pristine condition.
"Just her style, and my favourite colour," he said as he closed the box and headed to her cabin door.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

He knocked three times and waited.
"Who is it?" came Honour's voice through the door.
"Take a guess, dear," he said cheerily.
"Hmmm. Satan?"
Jack's expression soured a bit. "Hardly. Care to try again?"
"What do you want, Jack?"
"I have something for you, love. Are you decent?"
"Don't get your hopes up, Don Juan. Yes, I am."
"Then open the door."
"Why should I?"
"Because I have something nice for you. A gift."
"What is it?"
"It wouldn't be much of a gift if I told you what it was."
There was a long pause.
"You're determined to make me open this door, aren't you?
"That's the general idea, yes. It won't fit underneath."

She hastily shoved the book under the pillow.
Jack could hear the latch slide back, and Honour opened the door.
"This had better be some gift," she said with distrust.
He held out the box and smiled.
"Pour vous."
She looked at the box with the bedraggled ribbon and the look of pride and hopefulness on Jack's face and her heart melted a little.
"Oh....Jack."
She gently touched the ribbon.
"Well, it has seen better days. After all, it has been all over the Caribbean and it got a bit squashed in my chest."
She sat down on the bed with the package on her lap. "I picked it out with you in mind. I mean, it was a gift of a man to his wife. Except wifey wasn't there."
She felt a blush on her cheeks.

"Jack, you really didn't have to...."
"I wanted to. I guess I kept it in hopes that someday I could give it to you. No matter what happened between us."
She opened up the box and held up the contents.
"Oh....my! This is just beautiful!"
She stood up and held it up to her. "How does it look?"
"Can't tell a thing with it up to your shoulders and one leg sticking out. Go ahead and try it on."
She frowned.
"I don't know...."

Jack reclined on the bed and said, "Honour, there is nothing there that I haven't seen. Alright, so I haven't seen it in eighteen months.... oh don't get so pouty on me. I just want to....hello! What have we here?"
He lifted the pillow.
"Well, well, Miss Honour Bright! Doing a little research, are we? And you are already up to number.....69, is it?"
She felt her face burn. "It looks like you are the one who did quite a bit of research. Let's see...Monique...Isabelle....Simone..."
"You forgot Molly and Polly. I do believe they were number 34 and 35 respectively. Would you care to try for number 74?"
She retorted, "With or without the red dress?"
"There's no dress in there and you know it. Besides, I had no idea you were interested in a manual. If you want, I have a few other books and we can study them together."
She stood up. "You haven't changed. Not one bit."
"I haven't exactly had a reason to, darling. Being a pirate and living like a monk don't exactly go together."
"And I haven't lived like a nun. What do you say to that?"
He shrugged. "Off-setting sins. The scales are balanced. Now, how about those books..."
"You're impossible! I've never known anyone who can rationalise even the most outrageous circumstances!"
"Thank you, dear. I try."
"Get out," she said tersely.
"Oh, Honour, I'm sorry. I was just having a bit of fun..."
"Get out!"
"I said I was sorry!"
"And I said GET OUT! Take your damned dress with you!"

Jack got off the bed and backed toward the door. "I'm going to leave the dress with you. I meant it as a sincere gift."

"I don't care! I don't want to see it, or you!"
"Think it over.  I'll be round later- much later- and you can give me a private showing. Of the dress."
Honour shot him a look that Jack knew well. A look that told him it was time to duck.

He moved quickly into the companionway, only to run right into a tall crewman named Davis.
"Sorry, cap'n! I didn't see you!" he said quickly.
"No worries, Davis. My clumsiness..."
"I said take this with you!" shouted Honour. She came out of the cabin with the dress wadded in her hands, and threw it as hard as she could at Jack. Reflexively, he ducked, and Davis got a face full of red French lace.
Honour didn't wait to see where the dress landed. She was too angry with Jack and his flippant attitude to even care. Not even the resounding slam of the door made her feel any better.

Jack looked up at Davis, who was still too confused by what has just happened to even move.
"Cap'n, what...?"
"Not your best look, mate," said Jack as he peeled the dress off Davis' head. "I'd go with blue or green next time. Presentation is everything, remember that."
"Um, all right..."
Jack draped the dress over his shoulder and walked back to his cabin.
He laid it on the bed and stared at it.
"Nicely done, Jack," he said to himself. "Why did I do that? Why do I let myself get so out of control with her?"
He sat down and stared dejectedly at the deck.
"Because you still love her, you fool," he admitted quietly.

[Welsh Wench]

Honour felt  herself tremble with indignation and anger. How dare he...how DARE he? Thinking he can buy me off with a dress and everything will be forgotten between us?
She felt hot tears well up in her eyes and hastily she wiped them away with her hand.

Crossing the room, she opened up the port window to catch a sea breeze. Anything to cool down the heat she felt.
Her mind was in such turmoil. She remembered how good it was with Jack. Since she had gone home to Wales and had Zara, she hadn't been with a man until she ran into Cade in town.
And she forgot how lonely she was and how much she missed it.
The lovemaking.
The whispered words of love. Being held afterwards.

While Cade was a terrific lover, there was something missing.
A connection that came with someone who was your soul mate.
But all Jack was interested was the Sun Key and he would use any means possible to ensure that he got it.
Even if it meant leading her on.
Empty promises. Or half-empty at best. She had seen that look in his eyes. The look that made her knees weak and her heart race...
"You're imagining things," she said to herself. Needing some mental distraction, she looked back at the book that lay on the table.


She picked up the book and thumbed through it. She felt a sense of jealousy and abandonment.
'Here while I was carrying his child and having the baby alone, he was sleeping with any doxy that crossed his wake. And I will wager I never crossed his mind. How much did the crew know? Did Jack bring his strumpets back to what used to be their bed? Or did he take his nocturnal activities off-ship?'
The condition of her dresses led her to believe otherwise.
'I'll bet Josiah had a good laugh at my expense. He was glad to be rid of me.'
She occasionally saw a look of--what was it? Pity? Or contempt?
Pity was one thing she couldn't bear.
The crew had changed since Honour was last on the ship. 'It seems to be a rougher group. Especially the man with the Cornish accent.' She caught him staring at her several times in a way that made her very uncomfortable.

All of a sudden, a wave of homesickness came over her. She crossed her arms over her chest to stop the heartache. Honour was overwhelmed with feelings of separation from the most important person in her life.
Her daughter.
And now Jack Wolfe was delaying her from returning to her child.
Once again, he was interfering with her life.
She picked up the book, the scribbled names almost taunting her from the dog-eared pages.

Honour threw the book with all her might at the wall.
"Bastard!"
She burst into tears and sobbed.
Finally when she was spent and her tears subsided, she crossed over to pick up the book. She slid the Sun Key into the pages of number 44 and 45. Those were the two that weren't dog-eared.
'Probably threw your back out with that one, Jack,' she thought bitterly.
She put the book back on the book shelf that was the headboard.
Propping a chair under the doorknob, to keep out any intruders, she hastily stripped off her dress and slid under the blanket, asleep before her head hit the pillow.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

The morning sun broke over the horizon to the forward quarter of El Lobo as the ship knifed through the sea. Jack took a reading of the sun's position, compared it with the vessel's present heading, and made a slight course adjustment. As he lashed the wheel in place, he saw Josiah emerge on the weather deck. Jack smiled as he saw that the quartermaster was bringing more strong coffee.

"Your timing is excellent, Josiah. Thank you." He took the coffee and felt renewed at it's very aroma.
"Ahh...this is just what I needed."
Jack added a healthy dose of rum.
"Didn't sleep well last night."
Josiah held back his remark but the smirk plastered on his face told Jack what he was thinking.
"What was that look?"
"What look?"
"Uh huh," replied Jack. "It's not what you're thinking. I had a lot on my mind and little energy or desire to sort it out. So I thought, what better way to get a fresh start on things than to do a bit of reading in the fresh air?"
"All the books in that library ye call a cabin, and that's what ye chose? That infernal journal? I'm surprised ye ain't read the ink off the pages yet."
"This 'infernal book' is the reason we're out here, Josiah. You know that." Jack turned to a page he had marked with a strip of cloth. "I've been comparing these entries against the measurements I just took. I'd say we're about a day out from the island. give or take. The winds are following and we've no unwanted company, so I say we reef sail and save the strain on the masts."
Josiah gave him a skeptical look. "A day or so out from an island ye don't even know the name of, much less the location?"
"Must we go through this every time? No, I don't know the actual name of the island. No one does. As for its location, I'm reasonably certain I know approximately where it may be. Relatively speaking."
Briggs held up his coffee cup. "I'll be needin' a bit of rum if ye expect me to make sense of that this early."
"I'll pour the rum, you go tell the men to take in sail by one quarter," said Jack. "Oh, and while you're at it, do me the favour of rousting my ever-so-mild bride from her slumber and bring her on deck? I'd hate for her to miss such a delightful sunrise."
Briggs gave him an incredulous look. "What the hell did I do to warrant such?"
"Now, now, Josiah, you know I love you like a brother."
With a resigned sigh, Briggs trudged down the stairs to the weather deck. "Aye, now I know how Abel felt..." he grumbled.

Briggs went down to what was temporarily formerly his quarters. He knocked gently. No answer. He knocked harder. Then he pounded on the door. Honour finally heard it.
"Go away!" she mumbled, snuggling deeper into her blankets.
Briggs said through the door, "Cap'n requests your presence on the deck as of now."
She rolled over onto her back, throwing her covers off her face and looking up at the ceiling.
"Would you kindly tell the Devil of the Seven Seas that I am not home?"
Briggs chuckled, "He knows better, Honour."
"Then tell him I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request. Being an Oxford boy, he will understand that."
She snuggled back down and threw the blankets back over her head.

Briggs knocked again. "You know eventually you will have to come out, Mrs. Wolfe. The sun is ever so beautiful this time of morning and..."
"What time IS it?"
"Oh....I would say about fifteen minutes to sun-up. You can just see it break over---"
"Break over his head? Oh, what a lovely thought! But you see, Dear Mr Briggs, that would prevent me from sleeping and we wouldn't want that, would we? So take my regrets, wrap it up in that red dress and tell my demanding husband that I will get up when I am good and ready. And not a minute before."

Josiah climbed the stairs back to the quarterdeck.
"Well...where is she? Taking her sweet time? Usually it is worth the wait."
"Her reply was in the negative, Jack. She's harder to move than a fouled anchor."
Jack sighed and stood up from the railing he had been sitting on.
"Josiah, you've known me for at least sixteen years now, and I still haven't been able to teach you how to handle a woman."
"If ye didn't find every woman what Hell's spat back out, I'd pay more attention."
"Now, you just have to know how to tame the pussycat! With the right application of petting and a little catnip--or wine--a woman can be putty in your hands."

Jack descended the seven steps from the quarterdeck to the weather deck. "Well, at least she's awake. That's a start. The ship is yours."
He walked over to the barrel by the mainmast. "I think this will do."
He hefted a boarding pike in his hands.
"Good Lord, Jack! Skewering her won't solve anything!"
"Don't be redundant, Josiah. I just need this for a little...leverage. Now....watch and learn."

[Welsh Wench]

Arriving at Honour's cabin, Jack placed the steaming bowl of brew at the base of the door so it's odour would seep into her quarters. He waited a couple minutes, then rapped on the door with the boarding pike.
"Honour! Wake up, darling! We've been boarded by mad Turks, and I know how you love to kill things early in the morning."
He sidestepped to the hinge side of the door, and rested the pike where the door met the frame, just above the doorknob.
She moaned, "Won't any of you let me SLEEP??"
The smell from the coffee wafted from under the door.

*Sniff* *Sniff*
'What was it he said about angry turkeys? Who cares? And where are you going to put turkeys on a ship deck anyhow?'
She pulled the blankets ever closer to her. Still...the smell of coffee first thing in the morning...
'I suppose he's back on the quarterdeck enjoying his rum-laced java and exchanging jokes with Briggs about how he pulled one over me.'
She sighed and tightened a dressing gown around her. She listened at the door to make sure there wasn't a sound or heavy breathing.

A broad, victorious grin spread over Jack's face as he heard turn the knob.
'That's it, love, open the door just a bit for Ol' Jack,' he thought. He adjusted his grip on the pike, ready to thrust it into the opening and catch the door chain. As the knob turned, the door opened, and Jack struck. He thrust forward to break the chain before she knew what was happening... except for the simple fact Honour had already unchained the door. The coffee lure had worked too well.

The momentum of Jack's thrust carried him stumbling through the door, sending Honour sprawling backward against the bed. The pike wedged itself in the foreward bulkhead of the cabin, and Jack's head rebounded off the wall with a resounding thud, landing him in a precarious position on top of Honour. He shook off the impact and looked up to see his wife staring at him from underneath him.
"Um....I seem to remember you preferred to be on top, darling."

Honour's mouth worked soundlessly as she tried to process what had just happened. She turned her head to look at the weapon with its business end jammed into the wall planks.
"Hey, hey, never mind that little thing," Jack said quickly.
"Little? LITTLE? What the hell did you bring a harpoon after me for?"
"Honour, I can explain, I promise. First, that's not a harpoon, it's a boarding pike..."
His voice trailed off under her withering glare.
"... a distinction you clearly don't care about. Anyway, I was carrying it back to the armoury and decided to bring you some coffee. When you wouldn't come to the door, I decided to leave. But when I heard you opening the door, I ran back to greet you. That's when I tripped and fell through the door, and the rest is lodged in the woodwork."

"You're lying."
"How can you- I mean, what makes you say that?"
"Your lips a moving. Now GET OFF ME!"

"So soon? I thought we were getting along quite well."
Honour put her hands against his chest and shoved as hard as she could, rolling Jack off the bed.
"Get out," she said quietly. But clearly she was getting angrier by the moment.
"Quite right," replied Jack, trying to play the whole incident off like a housecat that had made a spectacular, public blunder, then sashays off with an air of 'I meant to do that.'

"I'll send someone round later to remove the pike from your wall, and -- All right, I'm going!" he yelped as she gave him another shove that propelled him out of the door. He stopped short to try to say something else, only to have the door slam before he could turn around.
"Well, that was a disaster,' he muttered as he leaned against Honour's closed door. Dejectedly, he started walking back to the quarterdeck.
At least he tried to. His first step was stopped short, and he stumbled back against the door. The tail end of his shirt was caught in the door. He tugged, but apparently Honour had wedged something against the door as a barricade. There was no room to pull the fabric through. Tentatively, he knocked on the door.
"Um, Honour?"
"Go away, Jack. I meant it!"
"I'd love to, dear, but it seems I'm caught by your door. My shirttail is caught and won't pull free. Would you be a love and open the door so I can get loose?"
There was a long pause. "Give me a moment," she answered finally.
"Thank you, Honour! I appreciate your trusting this isn't another admitted stupid ploy to---"
RIIIIIP!

Jack leaned forward, and the shirt, or what was left of it, pulled free from the door jamb with ease. Honour had solved the problem by slicing off the trapped fabric.

"Um, that works too, I suppose. Though it was silk, and rather expensive."
"You're welcome, Jack!" she called back through the closed door.
Jack waited for a moment to see if she would say anything else, but only heard a muffled giggle.

'One more thing Josiah will never let me live down,' muttered Jack. But as he passed the companionway, he heard a chuckle.
"She does this to you every time, Captain. Have ye learned naught about women?"

"Josiah?"
"Yeah, Jack?"
Jack gave Briggs a gesture for which there were no words exchanged.
None were needed.

Briggs said softly, "Honour one. Jack zero."

[Welsh Wench]

Honour looked out the porthole to the view of the setting sun. She had not seen any trace of Jack since she did a slice and dice on that lovely silk shirt of his.
She ran her fingers through her hair, the salt spray from earlier in the day caked and dried a layer of salt on her tresses. Looking through Briggs' chest of drawers, she found a comb.
'Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Her hair was tangled and still crusted.
She sighed. 'I don't know how anyone can stand this. It wasn't this bad when I...' Her thoughts drifted off. '....when I sailed here before.'

She looked in the pitcher and there seemed to be some fresh water. Pouring it into the basin, she took a bit of the lavender soap from Jack's cabin. 'At least that was mine,' she thought.
Washing her hair, she finally managed to get the grime out of it. She used the rest of the water to bathe with.
'I certainly don't feel like putting these clothes back on.'
She reached in the pile and brought out a dressing gown she had left behind.
'This is at least comfortable and I won't need to wear stays with it.'
She dabbed a bit of jasmine oil behind her ears and on her cleavage.
'May as well smell a bit more like myself,' as she combed her wet hair.

She perused through a few books that Briggs had on his shelf.
'1001 ways to tie a knot.....' She put the book back. Similar books on navigation filled the meager shelf.
'I seem to remember Jack had infinitely better reading material.'
She opened the door to the cabin.
She looked right. She looked left.
The coast looked clear.

Cautiously Honour tiptoed down the hall way and quietly opened Jack's door, backing her way in so she could make sure the hallway was still unoccupied.
"Looking for someone?"
Honour jumped  a mile and put her hand over her heart.

There sat Jack, his small table spread out with what was his dinner. Roasted lamb, boiled potatoes, fresh bread, fried apples and assorted fruit.
"Lord, you almost gave me a heart attack, Jack!"

"Did the cook not bring you anything to eat?"
"I wasn't...hungry," her voice trailed off.
She looked longingly at the fried apples...where on earth did he find them?
He carved another slice of lamb and put it on his plate.
'I'll just bet there is mint jelly to go with that lamb.....'
She tried not to look at the food.
"I thought I might have left my hairbrush in here......'" Mmmm....boiled potatoes. And is that butter with chives over there? She tried to focus on the porthole to avoid looking at the food.
"I see you still have the Connemara marble dishes."
"Oh, nothing but the best! I do believe we took that off an Irish ship a year or two before I met you. It holds up so nicely."

He took a biscuit and buttered it lavishly.
"So...you are here because of a hairbrush?"
"Well...that and I was looking to see if you may have a book I could read..."
She finished lamely.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I do believe you got the most interesting one I own. Although there is a book over there...illustrations are marvelous."
She stood up and said frostily, "Never mind. I see you are busy dining and I won't take up any more of your valuable time."

Jack pushed a plate towards her.
"Oh, go on. Help yourself."
She sighed and finally looked at the marble plates and Spanish cutlery.
"Oh, alright. Please pass me some fruit. But nothing more...oh!  And maybe some of that lamb....and a slice of bread...and for goodness sake, don't be stingy with that rum!"

"I have something better." He reached under his table and brought out a bottle of merlot."
She looked at all the food, the wine, the candles that were lit....
"Jack Wolfe, this is one of your little seduction dinners."
"Is not! I dine like this all the time."
"Oh, you do not! The merlot was a dead giveaway!"

She turned to go. As she reached the doorknob to turn it, she heard him say, "Wait. I---apologize. For what, I don't know. But if I upset you in any shape or form, then I am sorry. I was out of line saying whatever I said. I don't quite know what it was...but I know you are hungry and frankly, I would like the company."

She tried not to smile at his obvious discomfiture at apologizing.
"Well...." She sat down and in a calmer voice she said, "I do believe I shall have a piece of the lamb. But please go easy on the mint sauce. And maybe some bread. But that is all. Oh! And a bit of that merlot as long as you don't expect anything..thank you," she said as Jack handed her a plate.
She glanced at  him. He still looked really good even after their last argument eighteen months ago when he sailed to Martinique. Hell, he still looked good when he was drunk in the Bilge Pump Pub.'
She shook her head out of her reverie.
'Don't fall for the dinner-candlelight-merlot ploy. Remember how it always ends...'

A small voice inside her said, 'You know you want to...'
She answered aloud, "Certainly not!"
Jack looked up.
"Did you say something?"
"Umm...no."

He could almost hear the deep voice of his father,.
'Aye, Jackie boy! What be in yer head, lad? Woo her again? Have ye naught enough woe and heartache over this lass? She bewitched ye, took all yer money and worst of all, she made ye fall in love with her. I raised ye better than that...'
He banished the memory. Some ghosts are better left in the past, not carried around like a rude monkey.'
He swallowed his ale, and it suddenly tasted bitter. Jack scowled and put it down to the mischief of his long-passed father. He put his cup down and gazed out the window.

He felt a soft hand upon his shoulder, and when he turned around, he found Honour's face tantalizingly close to his.
She took a step back quickly.
"I--I want to thank you, Jack."
"For what?"
"For not killing me."
"For eighteen months I wanted to. Now...I'm not so sure if that is a good idea anymore."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack looked at her and said softly, "I don't think I have ever seen you look so lovely, Honour. So...vulnerable. The dressing gown and the wet hair..."
"Well, you have me at a disadvantage, Oxford boy. So don't get any ideas."
She reached over and helped herself to an apple, the dressing gown affording him a view of what he once laid claim to.
He swallowed hard.

She polished the apple on her gown and said wistfully, "Was it really only eighteen months ago, Jack? It seems like another lifetime ago that you crossed my wake that night...."
She took a bite of the apple and offered it to him. Suddenly he felt off his footing in his own game. Or was it a game?

He looked at her as Adam must have looked at Eve. Temptation in her hand and in her eyes.

Jack stepped forward and took the apple from her hand. He regarded it thoughtfully, looking at the bite she had taken from it.
In a husky voice, he whispered, "Show me how it tasted," throwing the apple over his shoulder. He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply.

She felt herself giving in to those old feelings and emotions. She kissed him back and felt her knees go weak. As always when he kissed her.
She broke away and her breath came in short, ragged gasps.
"Damn you, Jack Wolfe! Just..damn you!"

She felt the sash on her dressing gown untied and Jack's hand around her waist, drawing her close to him. His other hand was caressing her.

Jack's head was spinning. Not from rum or ale or other spirits, but from the pent up passions he still held for Honour. It was all so overpowering; the scent of jasmine, the taste of her kiss, the softness of her curves which he could scarcely wait to explore once again. This wasn't mere conquest. This was something more. Much more.
"I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't, Honour," he replied between their increasingly passionate kisses.

Just then, the heavy latch of the cabin door announced the arrival of some unwanted visitor with a loud clack. The door swung open and in walked Josiah Briggs, still looking at whatever was on the paper in his hand.
"Jack, I was lookin' over these calculations ye made, and I---"
He stopped cold when he saw Jack and Honour in their lover's embrace.
"--- I really wish I was drunk right now," he finished.
Honour quickly clutched her dressing gown around her, the moment between her and her estranged husband shattered.
"Don't you ever knock?!" fumed Jack.
"Nay, but I sure wish I had now," said Briggs, still in shock.
"I'll leave now," said Honour as she turned for the door.
"No, please stay," said Jack. "Briggs, go!"
"No, Josiah, stay," replied Honour. "I''m going. Good night, Jack."
Honour brushed past Briggs and hurried down the companionway, back to her quarters.
"I was startin' to feel like the ship's dog for a minute," the quartermaster quipped, trying to diffuse the situation between himself and his friend.
"Right now, consider yourself in the doghouse until further notice."

"I'm sorry for bargin' in that way, Jack. I had no way of knowin' the two of ye would be..."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dining together?"
"Call it what ye will. And I didn't see nothin', I swear!"
"Liar. Your face is still red as a beet."
Briggs scowled uncomfortably and pulled at his collar . "Well, 'tis a might warm in here."
"Considerably more so before you arrived.
Jack plopped down in a chair and poured himself some rum punch. "Fine then, O Destroyer of Moods, what's on your mind?"

Briggs walked to the table and handed over the page he'd been reading. "It's these numbers. I double checked against what ye'd wrote this mornin'. See here, and here?"
Jack looked at the entries, then quickly opened the journal. He compared them, and sagged back in his seat. "I transposed the heading numbers? Bloody hell. I never make mistakes like that!"
"I'm guessin' ye had somethin' on your mind," said Briggs, as he nodded toward Honour's cabin.
"Damned sloppy of me. Well, the damage is done. How far off are we?"
Briggs smiled broadly. "Only half a day, if we clap on full sail again."
"Half a day? That's all? Master Briggs, give the order!"
"I took the liberty of doin' it already. Somethin' told me ye'd want it done."
"Consider yourself out of the doghouse, Josiah. And thank you."

Briggs walked to the table and handed over the page he'd been reading. "It's these numbers. I double checked against what ye'd wrote this mornin'. See here, and here?"
Jack looked at the entries, then quickly opened the journal. He compared them, and sagged back in his seat. "I transposed the heading numbers? Bloody hell. I never make mistakes like that!"
"I'm guessin' ye had somethin' on your mind," said Briggs, as he nodded toward Honour's cabin.
"Damned sloppy of me. Well, the damage is done. How far off are we?"
Briggs smiled broadly. "Only half a day, if we clap on full sail again."
"Half a day? That's all? Master Briggs, give the order!"
"I took the liberty of doin' it already. Somethin' told me ye'd want it done."
"Consider yourself out of the doghouse, Josiah. And thank you."
"Just doin' me job," said Briggs as he walked to the door. "And next time, do me a favour and hang a stocking on the door handle? I'm goin' to need me a drink or two after that."
"I'll take it under advisement, if there's another time. You know where the rum is."
"Aye. G'night, Jack."
"Good night, Josiah."

Jack watched as the door closed behind Briggs, and he gave a heavy sigh. He looked down at the floor and found the apple he and Honour had shared in their own intimate way. He picked it up and regarded it.
"So close. So very, very, close..."

[Welsh Wench]

Honour felt the heat of shame rising in her cheeks. She pounded the wall with her fist.
"Damn him! Damn him!" But she couldn't tell who she was damning more--Jack or Briggs?
Jack for making her feel things she thought were long gone. Or Briggs for interrupting what would maybe have gotten Jack out of her system once and for all. Because after all that time apart, could it still be that wonderful?

But for some reason she couldn't get the thought of the way he kissed her out of her mind...and unfortunately the way she responded to him.
As always.
She moved the dresser in front of the door and then propped a chair under the ch
She looked out the port window at the sea. Another night and day and this will all be over, she thought. Then I can get on with my life. I can arrange it so I never have to run into Jack Wolfe again. Returning to the existence of Rhiannon Conaway would be the perfect cover-up. Honour Bright Wolfe would cease to exist.

Dragging the dresser, she placed it against the door and then propped a chair under the chest knobs.
Dusting off her hands, she thought with satisfaction, 'That will keep you out, Jack Wolfe, in case you get any notions.'

She turned down the coverlet and let her dressing gown drop to the floor. Sliding into bed, she felt how cool the sheets were against her skin. But that brought her no comfort.
No, not at all.
She didn't want to be alone.
She wanted to be snuggled up next to Jack, the aftermath of the tempest that was their love-making.
But her pride wouldn't let her leave her cabin. She frustratingly blew out the candle and was asleep before she knew it.

Jack lay in the dark, staring up at the canopy of the bed. The scant illumination was provided by soft, cloud-filtered moonlight coming in through some open windows on the back wall of the cabin. The same pale moonlight  that always allowed him to lay awake and watch Honour sleep so peacefully.

He sighed heavily in frustration and tried to close his eyes. Usually, the rolling of the sea and the familiar creaks and murmurs of the ship would quiet his mind and lull him to sleep. But not so this time. He could not get Honour off his mind. Closing his eyes only made it worse. With his eyes closed, he could see her face. Her stormy blue eyes, her passionate, inviting lips, every intoxicating curve of her body.

Jack fidgeted with the bed sheet, trying to find whatever comfortable position that would help him finally fall asleep. But he found himself chuckling. All this time, the only thing he could think about was getting that key back and discovering the secret of the Ancients' treasure. Now, with the key just down the hall from him and the enigmatic island less that two days away, his only thoughts were of Honour.

'I'll deal with this tomorrow, whenever tomorrow is,' he thought to himself. It was then he realised that he hadn't even been paying attention to the watch bells that were struck every half hour. He lay there in the dark, waiting for the next set, and his eyes began to grow heavy as he waited...

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Finally, the sound of the bells came. One, two, three, four.
'Still the middle of the night,' he thought. But as his eyes began to open, he could see that the cabin was illuminated with sunlight. He sat bolt upright in bed.
"Bollocks! It's the middle of the morning!" he exclaimed. Hastily he pulled on his trousers, a fresh shirt, and boots and headed up on deck. It wasn't like him to sleep away the morning while at sea. Soon he was on the quarterdeck, still squinting in the bright morning sun.

"Mornin', Jack! I was beginnin' to wonder if ye'd forgotten about us," joked Briggs.
The young seaman at the wheel, Ned Tomlinson, stifled a chuckle.
"I must have stayed up too late reading," lied Jack. "Tomlinson, how fare we today?" he asked quickly.
"On course, Captain," the young man replied. "Master Briggs reckons we'll make landfall by evening next. I'm guessing you'll want to lay by until the next morning before we make our approach?"
"You guess right, Ned," smiled Jack. "With no charts to guide us, I'll not risk the ship by getting her too close."
Jack turned to speak with Briggs, but just then the lookout's voice rang out.
"A sail, a sail! To port side, a sail!" he cried.
Jack took the spyglass from beside the wheel and examined the unknown ship. She was an East Indiaman, riding fairly low in the water. Her sails were being trimmed as she attempted to attempted to catch more wind. She had spotted the pirate ship and was starting to run.
He lowered the glass and looked down to the weather deck, and the expectant faces of the crew looking back at him.

Jack paused for a moment and turned to Briggs. The quartermaster knew that gleam in his friend's eyes. He took a deep breath and, in spite of his feelings to the contrary, nodded in agreement.
Stepping to the railing, Jack addressed his crew. "We have the advantage of the wind, and speed as well! That merchantman is riding low, which means there's cargo aboard. But she's already turned her heels to us. Shall we pass on, or make her a prize today? What say you all?"
The crew replied with a resounding "Aye!!"
Nodding his approval, Jack began barking orders.
"Stations, then! Gunners, load with chain and grapeshot only, in case we need to make a point! The rest of you, lay on canvas! I want that distance between us closed and quickly!"

He turned to Josiah and gave a flinty smile. "The island has waited this long. Another few hours won't make a difference."
"Jack, are ye sure ye want to do this? What if they make a fight of it? Ye've got Honour to think of."
"Josiah, they won't fight! This will all be over in an hour or two. There's nothing to worry about."
"For your sake, and hers, I hope ye be right, Jack."

Honour heard his boots pounding on the deck as he came down the hall. She held her breath as she waited and exhaled as she heard them pass by.
A little voice inside her said, 'Disappointed, Honour? You know you wanted him to break the door down and....'
"Nonsense!" She said to herself.
She listened to the sounds of commotion and Jack giving orders to load the guns.
Quickly she jumped up and threw her chemise over her head, hastily running to the port window.
A ship was in the distance but it appeared to be getting closer.
'Oh no...NO! Does he really intend.....?'
She felt herself get faint and bent over to get the blood back to her head. She found it hard to catch her breath.
Memories of that fateful day came flooding back to her. Memories of a Spanish ship with the Norman Cross....memories of cannonballs in the great cabin and the sounds of men begging for her help. The smell of gunpowder...and the sight of Jack being spun to the deck.
She held her hands out in front of her and whispered, 'The blood...oh, the blood....' She couldn't control the trembling of her hands.
'I can't....I WON'T!' I can't do this. Not again....not ever. This time it stops. This time it ends.'
She fought down the rising wave of nausea that was beginning to overcome her. No, I won't do it! I'm not a coward. But enough is enough!'
She ran down to Jack's cabin, frantically searching for the only thing she could think of to stop him.
'Where did he keep it? Did he move it? It has to be here somewhere....'
She rummaged around in the chest of drawers.
Nothing.
She checked the armoire.
Not there.
She reached under the mattress. Her hand curved around something. Could that be it?
She pulled it out and there it was.
The flintlock.

'I have to stop him before he kills me or himself!'
She opened the door and walked with a determined stride to the deck. But her bravado was fading from her.
Walking up behind Jack, she pointed the flintlock. He turned around.
The weapon began to shake in her hand and she said in a trembling voice, "Don't make me shoot you, Jack. It stops. And it stops now."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack turned around from helping one of the men pull a cannon into the gun port.
"What the HELL are you doing?" he shouted.
Her hand was shaking as she wrapped both hands around the grip.
"I--I'll shoot. I swear I will. I will shoot you if you don't stop this right now. I won't have it, Jack. I won't." Her voice was almost on the edge of hysteria.
"Honour....Honour, sweetheart. Hand me the gun. Nice and slow...."
"NO!" Tears were streaming down her face. "We won't do this again. Not now. Not EVER! Do you HEAR me?"

Jack advanced slowly and cautiously towards her, his hand outstretched.
"Please, darling....hand it over. Hand it over nice and slow...."
She closed her eyes, the gun wavering. He knew that look. He saw it once before in Castara. Only she wasn't holding a pistol. She was holding a sword and the victim was a palmetto.
Jack knew he had to make a move.
He leaped towards her and gripped her arms with his hands.
The gun pointed up in the split second before a bullet ricocheted off the mainsail, nicking the mast.

They both looked up, startled. He held her tight and whispered, "Just calm down...calm down...take a deep breath..."
Tears were streaming down her face but he didn't know if he was reaching her. She was in a place and time he couldn't seem to reach.
Gently, he slipped the pistol out of her hand and tossed it to the deck. Honour didn't react except to bury her face in his chest and sob.
"It's all right, love. Just settle down. Let me help you go somewhere safe..."
"No!" she cried. "There's nowhere safe! Not on this ship, not anywhere!" She feebly pounded on his chest with her fist as sobs wracked her body.
"That's enough," he replied sternly. "Come on, I've got to get you below."
Honour put up only token resistance as he led her off the deck and into the companionway.

"There, that's it. We're almost there," he said in the most comforting tones he could muster. He steered her through the doorway of her room.
"See? Here's your cabin. I promise, you'll be safe inside here. I'll come get you as soon--"
"NO!!" she shouted, and she shoved him away with all the strength she could find. "You said that before, and everything went to hell! You can't do this to me again, Jack! I can't watch you die!"
She collapsed onto the bed, her tears coming harder than ever.
"Honour, I can't take the time for this right now. I promise, it will all be over very quickly, no shots fired, no bloodshed. I swear it."
"Stop the chase, and I'll believe you!"
"I'm sorry, but I can't. I'll lose all respect of the men if I tell them to break off now, just because you want it."
"To hell with them, and to hell with you!" she spat.
"I don't doubt that for a moment, love. But for now I have to go back topside and take care of business. Please, stay here where you'll be safe. Nothing will go wrong, I swear it!"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, that the ship suddenly lurched then listed hard to its port side. Jack was knocked from his feet and went sprawling to the deck beside Honour's bed.
"What in blazes...?!" He pulled himself back up and made his way to the door. The ship was starting to right herself, but he could hear the frantic shouts of the men on deck.
"You said nothing would happen!" Honour said accusingly.
"Well, the ship has other ideas!" he snapped.
With that, he slammed the door and locked it.

[Welsh Wench]

An hour later.....

Jack sighed as he walked down the companionway toward the cabin where he had unceremoniously thrown Honour and locked the door. He wondered how many projectiles were in there and how much crockery may be left.
"Honour? I'm opening the door now. So put anything breakable down and let's talk about this like the two civilized people that we are."
He cautiously opened the door. Honour sat on the bed, her face a mixture of relief and contrition when she saw him.

"Jack...Jack!" She sprang off the bed and then suddenly stopped.
"I--I'm so glad you aren't dead....I mean..."
Jack gave her a bemused look. "No one is dead, not even me. Or anyone on the other ship, for that matter. They got away."
"They outran you? I didn't think that was possible."
"It's not, ordinarily. When the ship listed so badly, it's because we had hit... something. A submerged shoal, a reef, hell, it could have been a whale for all I know. But everything is over. I ordered the men to break off and continue to the island instead. You got your wish."

"MY wish? My wish is to get off this God-forsaken vessel and get on with my life. But you saw fit to drag me back down to your world. I was doing just fine before you kidnapped me. I was happy, damn you! And you had to go mucking up my life!"
"Oh, happy, were you? And I wonder....does this happiness include a back-stabbing cur that I used to know?"
"What---what are you talking about?"
"You know damn well what I am talking about. You...and him. Tell me, did you run off together or did you happen to just conveniently meet up? Was it in Martinique? Or in Aruba?"
"Neither! I was in...."
"Where, Honour? Where were you?"
"That is none of your concern. Not anymore. And as soon as we open that chest, I fully expect a divorce."

She walked past him, her head held high.
He grabbed her arm roughly and spun her around.
"A divorce. So you can go back to him?"
"What do you care, Jack?"
Jack's eyes searched hers. "You don't know. You don't have any idea, do you?"
"About what? I'm not in any mood for riddles."
"How I tore the Caribbean apart looking for you? The number of favours I used up trying to find out where you'd gone?"
"And exactly what was at the top of your list? The key, or revenge? Both? Because it sure as hell wasn't me."
"All right, fine. I'll admit it. Yes, I wanted revenge. What man wouldn't? And of course I want the key. Without it, years of chasing down the treasure of a lifetime would be all for naught."

Her eyes narrowed.
"Just as I thought. The great Jack Wolfe's pride was wounded, so off he charged to settle the score."
"Oh, that's rich," Jack laughed bitterly. "And speaking of rich, just how much of my money did you throw at your darling Cade? Enough for another ship, maybe? That worthless mongrel has always found ways to get a woman to fund his enterprises. But I never figured on you being fool enough to try to buy his affections..."

Honour's eyes went wide at his accusation.
"You son of a--" she spat through clenched teeth, and her fist flew at Jack's face.
He caught her wrist before the blow could land. The two stared at each other, their eyes locked. Every bit of anger, every bit of hurt could be clearly read. No words were necessary.
Almost in unison, the two seemed about to launch into a fresh hail of insults and accusations. But instead, they found themselves instead locked in a deep, searching kiss.
The anger that burned within them had exploded into a fire of a very different kind.

[Welsh Wench]

Hungrily, they lost themselves in each other's embrace. Unlike their all too brief encounter the night before, this was different, something far more intense. There was no hesitancy between them. Honour's breath caught as Jack's hands explored her body, and at how good his kiss felt on her neck. She barely noticed as her chemise slipped from her shoulders and cascaded to the floor. All she knew was that her blood burned, the flames fanned by Jack's skilled and perfect touch.
Honour had always marveled at how he could make her feel. No other man had instinctively known just how she liked to be touched. No prompting, no coaching, he just... knew, somehow.

Moving in unison, as if they'd never been apart, they made their way to the bed. Jack continued the expert application of kisses as Honour began to unfasten his belt.
And that's when something from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Jack looked up and saw his copy of the Kama Sutra on the shelf above the headboard. But what really caught his attention was what was used as a bookmark.
The key.
His Sun key.
His hand left Honour's body as he reached over to covertly lift it from the pages. As his hand tried to grasp it, he felt it slip and land with a clatter behind the headboard.

Honour's eyes flew open from the passion she had let herself be carried away.
"Jack....what was that?"
"What was what?"
"That...noise. Sounded like metal clanging...."
"That? Oh...well, the brass headboard banging against the wall, I would think. No matter, no one will hear it...."
He took his hands to her face and kissed her passionately.
"No...it was a one time noise and..."
"You don't hear it anymore, do you? Please, darling...."
She rolled over to look behind the headboard.
"Oh....OK, so we go for #45...."
"YOU BASTARD!"

She rolled back pushed Jack with her might as he landed on the floor.
She grabbed the coverlet and wrapped it around her. Her breath was coming in gasps as she tried to recover from the unspent passion.
"All this time, all this concern....and all you were after was that damn key?"
"Not true!"
"GET OUT! GET OUT THIS INSTANT!"

Jack struggled to his feet. She picked up a candleholder. The problem was, a candle was still burning in it. With hot wax.
Honour was standing there with it in her hands. The wax was beginning to puddle on the bottom. Jack quickly did a mental projectory of where that wax would be landing.
He backed up quickly. She took her hands and pushed on his chest with all her might. He flew out the door and hit the opposite wall in the companionway.
She slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Hey, my boots are still in there under the bed!"
He turned around to see Josiah standing at the end of the companionway.

Josiah had a bemused smile as he said, "Well, someone's been a busy boy!"
"Oh! Josiah, I wasn't expecting to see you there."
"I kind of figured as much."
"I was, ah, just getting dressed out here so as not to wake Honour. She always sleeps like a baby after, well, you know."
"Does she, now? Awfully considerate of ye to make sure she rests peaceful enough. I'm guessin' this means I'll be getting' my cabin back, since the two of ye mended fences, so to speak?"
"Ah, well, um, we didn't actually discuss the particulars, you see. We were a bit too involved with other things. We'll talk it out when she wakes up. And believe me, after what we just did, she'll be asleep for hours--"

Honour opened the door and hurled his boots out, hitting him in the back
"AND STAY OUT, YOU BLOODY BASTARD!"

Briggs stood there, a smirk on his face.
"Jack, you keep telling me you will teach me about women. But I still don't see the benefit in it. And by the way....you  missed a button on your shirt."
Jack looked down and then at Josiah's retreating back.
"You know, Renee isn't any easier, pal."
"You say something, Jack?"
"Who, me? No. Not me. Not ever."