(Originally, this scene takes place in May 1719, but I've changed the date to coincide with other things (not spoiling anything) just as an fyi)
Great Inagua, January 1720
"So, this fantasy of yours has come to an end?" Mary asked Jemima as they stood by the bar, the men sitting behind them around a table.
"Aye." She nodded. "I promised my father he'd see the Observatory one day, and now... Now he never will. I don't think I could go without him being by my side."
Mary patted her shoulder, pitying the girl. Of course, she was strong and brave but the death of her father had crushed her. She would heal in time but not for a long while yet.
"Come with us." Mary invited.
"We're taking Rackham back to Nassau. If you're not travelling with Kenway, then travel with us."
Jemima thought on it for a moment and nodded.
"Sure, I'll come with you."
"Good lass." Mary grinned.
"And..." Jemima looked over her shoulder at the assassin that sat beside Kenway. "...Will Thomas be joining us?"
"I haven't asked him yet, although he may be more inclined to follow Kenway."
"Jemima, for a bright girl, you don't half do some stupid things."
"What now?" Jemima folded her arms, offended.
"For one, Thomas has promised himself to someone else and you know how much it'll hurt him if he breaks that."
Jemima turned away.
"I wasn't going to... I mean, I don't-"
"Lass, I can read you like a book." Mary told her, turning her back around.
"So what's your second point?" Jemima asked, glancing around, avoiding eye contact as she shifted her weight from one leg to another.
"Secondly," Mary gripped her shoulders and stared her in the eyes, "it'll hurt you even more when he does go back to his girl. Put some distance between you two for now, it'll do you good."
"Fine." Jemima bowed her head and nodded.
The two left the bar and joined the table once more, catching the tail end of Adé's amused story.
"...stealing a fishing schooner single-handed?" Adé said in almost disbelief. "Damned canny, captain."
"As is taking back my brig from this pillock." Kenway nodded to Rackham who sat, handcuffed in the corner. "Once again, I thank you both."
"This Billy-Huff didn't last two months with your ship before he came limping back to Nassau." Mary looked over her shoulder at the miserable man. "Took the pardon straight away."
"I had to, lads!" Rackham protested. "That Rogers was on to me from the first."
"Hold your tongue, Rackham!" Adé stood, his huge form towering over him. He pulled him to his feet and gripped his collar, Rackham stumbling all the way as Adé pushed him on, out of the tavern.
"So what now?" Mary turned to Thomas and Kenway. "Still chasing your elusive fortune?"
"If by elusive fortune you mean my girl in England, then aye." Thomas said and Jemima turned away. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning for England." The assassin glanced to the pirate girl who looked off at the horizon. "And I won't be coming back."
"Hey, um," Jemima stood, avoiding Thomas' eyes. "I'm all out of coin and I need another drink so, I'm gonna go."
Before anyone could offer to pay for her, she stepped down to the docks and boarded Mary's ship, hiding her wet eyes. She shoved open the doors of the captain's quarters and rummaged through the boxes scattered around it, rubbing her nose on her sleeve as she sniffed. Jemima found a bottle and bit the cork off, spitting it to the ground as she glugged down nearly half the bottle. She took a deep breath and put the bottle down, leaning over the desk in the centre of the room.
"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry..." She pleaded, squeezing her eyes shut.
She gasped, turning to see Thomas at the door. His face was lined with concern, confused at the young woman who left the table abruptly.
"Oh, hallo, Thomas." She sniffed.
"Are you alright?" He stepped towards her and she turned away again.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Over her shoulder, she glanced back at him. "Why are you leaving now? I thought your aim was to get the Sage?"
"By now, I don't know how long that'll be." Thomas sighed. "Four years ago I left England and four years ago, I planned to return. I trust Kenway has this situation under control. He knows what to do and if not, there's Mary to keep him in line. He doesn't need another assassin to scold him like a child."
"And your girl, Elizabeth? You think she'll be waiting for you?"
"I know." He smiled but he doubted his own words. It had been a while since he last wrote. Did she still feel the same as she did when she sent that last letter?
"If I don't leave now," Thomas continued, "I don't know what else will keep me back. It's one thing after another."
'And I don't know how much longer I can stay sane with you here with me, it's just too tempting.' He thought, looking to the beautiful pirate woman beside him.
Jemima wandered about, the bottle hanging loosely in her hand. Her head didn't ache, not yet, but it was screaming at her for a whole other reason. It would be the last day she would ever see Thomas and it hurt her deeply, just like Mary predicted.
Thomas stood to leave, stepping past her and as he did so, Jemima reached for his arm. He stopped.
"Elizabeth is a lucky girl." She said, eyes down, voice timid. "I hope she knows that."
Thomas smiled and gently took her hand.
"Not as lucky as I am."
"She's a beautiful girl, huh?" Jemima looked up, trying a smile.
"Not as half as beautiful as you."
One hand held hers while the other took her face, pulling her towards him. As their lips met, Jemima almost pulled away from surprise, but she fell into the moment and time froze leaving nothing but them. The half empty bottle of rum smashed to the floor, but no one noticed, nor cared.
Their hands began to move on their own accord, Jemima pulled at Thomas' shirt as he grappled with her corset, clothes littering the floor as their bodies slammed into each other. Thomas lifted her up, legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her to the desk. As she leaned back, he pushed everything off the desk onto the floor with one swipe of his arm, their lips barely breaking contact all the while.
Jemima moaned as Thomas worked faster and deeper, his lips trailing down to her neck, her chest. Her hands played with his hair, her thighs rubbing against his sides. One hand was used to support his weight, his sculpted muscles prominent as the other hand ran along her side, up along her leg to keep it around him.
"Thomas..." She whined, her breath growing ragged, her back arching as shots of passion ran through her body.
"Jemima..." He whispered into her neck, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out.
Her hands slammed down on the desk, gripping to the edges and neither of them could hold it back any longer. Her moans grew louder, as did his and they cried out, the final wave of passion slamming into them.
Thomas rolled over, chest heaving as he lay beside her, staring up at the ceiling. Panting, Jemima smiled. He pulled her towards him, his arms wrapped around her as she curled into his body, exhaustion catching up with them as the two lovers succumbed to a peaceful sleep.
His eyes fluttered open and without turning over, he remembered exactly what had happened.
Why did he do that?!
Elizabeth, the girl he had been waiting for for so long, was not far away and yet he can't keep it in his pants for just a few days more! Why?
Carefully, he slipped his arm from under Jemima's sleeping form and sat up. He put his head in his hands, taking a breath. He half regretted what he did, and half didn't. For so long, thoughts of that beautiful woman with dark hair, graceful voice and a glorious body had filled his thoughts, more so than Elizabeth, and he couldn't deny that he had longed to have her. Now that he had, it was all he had hoped it to be and better, but the betrayal to Elizabeth struck him deep.
Thomas stood, dressed and left the captain's quarters of the Jackdaw as quietly as he could. He boarded the ship destined for England and after paying, he stood to the back and waited for it to leave. With a shout from the captain, the ship pulled out from the docks and into open water. Thomas watched Great Inagua slip from sight, not before sighting a figure standing on the back of a ship, still docked, watching him go. As he flicked his sight to Eagle Vision, the dark haired woman turned gold and he knew he had shouldn't have left her behind.
"I'm sorry, Jemima." He whispered as she disappeared. "But I'm not good with goodbyes."