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veronica_richSee Part 1 for disclaimers, etc.
Neither moved, in fact, until almost noon; they even awoke in the same positions. Jack was the first to sit up, lifting each shoulder, shaking out his right hand, trying to chase sleeping aches from his body. The motion disturbed Will, who turned onto his back, yawning and stretching his arms back above his head, letting them fall lazily to his pillow. He kept his eyes shut. “’S it morning already?” he hummed, voice thick with exhaustion, a small smile playing about his mouth.
“I’d say mornin’s on her way out,” Jack guessed, rubbing the crust from his eyes, “judging from the rumblin’ in me stomach.”
“Hmm. We didn’t have much to eat yesterday, did we?”
“To say the least.” Jack reached up and combed his fingers through his messy, mostly-clean hair, working the tangles from the locks not tied up in braids or baubles, most hand-bored by Will. They consisted of little bits of minerals and gems left over from his smithing projects, as well as a few intensely personal items, such as a chunk of the gold decoration pried off the pommel of one of the swords Jack purloined from Francois’s ship. There was also a small, tough shell which had gotten caught in Jack’s shirt during the hurricane that had led to his rescue and first night spent on Will’s pallet; occasionally during lovemaking, the smith would pause and finger it, an odd expression interrupting his flushed features, always followed with a long, deep kiss for Jack.
He must’ve sat there ruminating too long, for he felt a small tug on one of his locks and fingers trailing down his back. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Just dwelling.” He wasn’t sure how else to explain staring at nothing for two minutes while stroking something in his hair.
“Oh?” The fingers curled about his opposite hip and applied pressure to lay back. “What’ve you figured out?”
Turning to face Will, he rested into his pillow, close to the man. “That I need some more o’ these,” he answered, twirling a beaded lock between his knobby fingers.
The smith cast a critical eye at Jack’s unruly hair. “Well … yes, it is longer now. I suppose you’ve got room for a few more these days.” He reached up to touch one, and Jack could tell from the corner of his eye it was a piece of glassy obsidian, polished to a high shine and painstakingly bored without fractures. The night he’d given it to Jack, he’d shyly explained it reminded him of the pirate’s eyes the first time he’d looked into them – and Jack remembered there’d been a delay in getting the stone into his hair, while he properly thanked the craftsman. “And?”
“Last night.” He searched large hazel eyes; it wasn’t impossible to lie to Will, but it was damned difficult, especially since they’d started sleeping together. The man had a positive talent for sussing out Jack. “I haven’t been worried in a long time ‘bout not gettin’ out of a tight spot. Least not since I was twenty.”
“Because of me.” Jack nodded.
To his surprise, Will furrowed his brow, frowned, and rolled away, pulling his arm out from under Jack. Speechless for a moment, Jack finally recovered his wits and sat up as the other man stood, the sheets falling away from his body. “What?”
“Captain Sparrow, do you think I’m incompetent?” Despite being naked, Will’s height and shoulder breadth lent his scowl an imposing air. Despite the scowl, he was naked, and Jack was momentarily transfixed. “Jack?”
“Huh?” Automatically, he shook his head. “No. What th’ hell?”
“You certain about that?” Will narrowed his eyes and scrunched the bridge of his nose. Not the nose scrunch!
Jack held up his hands, fingers splayed, to halt the conversation. “William, so help me- Look, you’re a lot of things, but I don’ think ‘incapable’ is any of them.”
“Is it my age, then? Is it this because you think of me as some sort of boy, still?”
His satisfaction of having an intelligent partner was rapidly diminishing at the inconvenience it introduced into his life. “For th’ life of me, I cannot figure where this is comin’ from.” Shoving aside the covers, he got to his knees and reached for Will’s wrist to drag him back in, but the blacksmith stood firm. “Come on, mate; now how could me worryin’ for your fine bottom be anythin’ other than a compliment?” He tried a grin.
Will shook his head, jaw set. “I’m not some woman who needs protecting.”
“Now who’s the one bein’ insulting?” Jack pointed out. “Bet if ‘Lizabeth heard that, she’d knock ye over; I know Ana would.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, you should bloody well know what I mean by now, too.”
“Enlighten me, Jack.”
“Because I worry about you, goddammit!” Jack didn’t even blink; the words didn’t surprise him, but the tone sure did. It wasn’t quite the way he wanted to declare his feelings. “Because it wouldn’t matter if you were th’ best fighter in th’ world; the fact is, ye share me bed. Because I don’t wan’ see you in pain and suffering, especially not because of some bloodfool thing I’ve done to put ye there.”
Will’s expression was unreadable, and while intellectually Jack didn’t worry about the reception of his words, part of him nervously waited for some sort of return sentiment. “You worry.”
“Yeah.”
“And … you asked last night for me to move in.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
Giving him a long, searching look, Will finally rolled his eyes and clamored onto the bed. Jack hooked him around the waist and scooted closer. “There we go,” he cooed, inching a hand up Will’s back. “Right where ye belong.”
In the middle of their involved, deep kiss, Will murmured, “Jack?”
“Mmhm?”
The smith chuckled. “I love you, too.”
A lovely shiver coursed through Jack’s belly even as realization of Will’s little performance rang in his brain. I’ve been damn well had.
*****
“I’m tryin’ to see the profit, Will. I really am, but it’s just not materializing in me mind.” Jack waved a hand near his temple to indicate thought.
“Because I’m asking.” Will leaned forward to meet Jack’s level gaze. “I’m asking you to. Is that not good enough?”
“I have a crew t’ think about,” the captain pointed out. “I can’t go gallivantin’ off across an entire ocean on th’ whim of one of that crew without ever’one else gettin’ themselves up in arms over it.” He spread his hands. “This may be my ship, Will, but I’ve got t’ take into account th’ hands aboard her.”
“All right.” Will leaned back. “I’ll talk to the crew, then.”
“Come again?”
“I’ll talk to the crew myself. Every single one individually, if I have to. I do a lot of extra work around here, and that ought to count for something.”
“Will.” Jack closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Ye don’t get it – they’re lookin’ for profit. Income. Swag. Spoils. Your extra weight up on deck or fixin’ their swords is nice, but it doesn’t translate to booty. If we start ferrying delicate passengers such as-“
“She’s hardly delicate.”
“Oh? Would you face her in a real swordfight, like ye have me? And others in this crew?” Jack stared hard at his smith. “Would ye hit her? I know for a fact ye’ve no problem decking me.”
“That’s what this is about.” Will got up and paced for the door. “That great bloody oar. Here we go again-“
“What’re you on about?”
Will turned and came up behind his chair, leaning over it just enough to make his point. “I have apologized for hitting you with that oar I don’t know how many times-“
“Twice,” Jack helped, holding up two fingers.
“And you won’t let it die.”
“No, Will. You won’t. I didn’t bring it up for the hell of it, as you know damn well.” Jack inclined his head and regarded the other man from beneath dark lashes. “Elizabeth Swann is a politician’s daughter, and a fairly important one a’ that. We cannot go ferryin’ her across the Atlantic without taking on substantial increased risk to ourselves and our chances of transacting business.”
“Mounting raids, you mean.”
“Don’t say that like you’re not part of it,” Jack snapped, a flare of annoyance in his chest.
Will opened his mouth to retort, probably something volatile, then closed it, as well as his eyes. He hesitated, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair. Jack elected to keep quiet, letting the smith break the tense silence.
“What if-“ he finally began, eyes still closed, obviously working something out in his mind. “What if we make it so the crew gets something out of it?” He looked at Jack again. “We could charge the Governor a fee, just as any captain would. Even if it’s not much to split among everybody, it’s something. And I know some of them wouldn’t mind visiting England, family and such there.”
“It’s still dangerous.” He calmed his tone to match Will’s conciliatory manner. “We may get a special dispensation from th’ Commodore to get near Port Royale, true enough, but what about when we get to British waters up north, aye? We’re pirates, Will; fair game for Norrington’s grim, colder brothers.”
“A letter of marque.”
“Oh, hell no.”
“Temporary letter of marque. Of course the Governor would authorize that, as would Norrington. They’d want to see Elizabeth reach her aunt’s safely. And, it gives us a temporary reprieve while we’re there.” Will spread his hands. “All we have to do is stay away from English ships on the way.”
Jack frowned. He didn’t like the idea of being under anyone’s control, especially not some king. “But I don’t wan’ be a bloody … privateer,” he spat. “None of th’ crew does.”
Will shrugged, not looking nearly enough defeated by the reasoning for Jack’s liking. “The crew are practical, Jack. If they can get some gold and a temporary pass to see their loved ones and have the Navy off their necks for a while, you don’t think they’ll take it?”
Sometimes, Jack reflected, being the one in charge of everyone else sucked dirty bog water. He didn’t get to be totalitarian for anything except the ship herself, and even then, Will could override on a repair decision, being better versed in the metalwork and some of the carpentry. Damn floating democracy, he thought, silently cursing the Greeks. “She’s th’ one who wrote to you,” he pointed out. “How do ye even know she can assure th’ Pearl’s safety coasting into harbor t’ so much as pick her up?”
“If I write back giving reply and notice, you don’t think she’ll guarantee our welcome?”
Reflexively, Jack put a hand to his throat. When Will didn’t change expression, he wrapped his fingers around his Adam’s apple, yanked up gently, and stuck out his tongue in gagging motion. “Yes, I know that’s a risk,” the smith conceded. “But she did help keep us away from the gallows,” he pointed out referring to Elizabeth telling her father and Norrington at the Isla de Muerta she didn’t know where Jack had gotten to. “And he let us go the last time we saw him, and we haven’t tangled with the Navy since. We helped get Francois for them, and his ship; surely we merit some sort of favor.”
Jack realized Will had a point. James Norrington was honest to a fault most of the time Jack was around him, and would probably view honoring Elizabeth’s request as some sort of damn test of his affections. He wondered if the lass had managed to make the officer fall back in love with her since her return home from France a few months ago. Jack hadn’t read her letter to Will; for all he knew, it could be begging the smith to come back to England six months hence to pick her up and sail her away somewhere to start up a sword shop in Singapore together.
Jack’s gut tightened and he felt a blind, hot few seconds of piercing jealousy. She’d better fucking not! He wasn’t sure where this came from, but it was swift and visceral, and nearly stole his breath. He was jolted out of his tangential thought process by Will’s voice – “Jack? You all right?”
Blinking, he looked up. Will was watching him closely, his brow creased. “Do you disagree with me that much?”
Shaking his head, Jack cleared his throat. “No,” he answered, not ready to explain that particular private thought. “No, I was just wonderin’ about her prospects with our man Jim after all this time, ‘s all.”
“She didn’t really say.” Will came around the chair and sat again, scooting minutely closer to Jack. “She mentioned dancing with him at a couple of functions, but nothing descriptive.” He smiled. “Her father was always so insistent she be proper, and that she was too forward even asking me to call her by her Christian name, or using mine to me.”
“Class differences,” Jack murmured.
“But she didn’t hold to that,” Will pointed out. “Anyway, she did report James isn’t yet engaged or married, so there may be hope for them after all.”
“You’d not mind her marryin’ that naval stick?” Jack arched his brows lightly.
Will laughed. “Not quite the way I would’ve said it, but … I mean, if that’s what she wants. He’s a good man. She was never too keen on marriage that I can remember, but I can see a long-term match there, so long as he knows to leave well enough alone and not try to change her.” He looked pointedly at Jack’s head, presumably at the tangles and braids therein. “Something to which I can personally testify.”
Jack shook his head, reaching for his tankard, disguising a grin behind a drink. He tried not to overbear the other man or speculate on the permanency of their living situation, but he was human; he liked these little subtle assurances by a lover as much as anyone else. “She be ready t’ leave whenever we get there?” he questioned, lowering the mug.
Will tipped his head. “You haven’t talked to the crew yet.”
He patiently set the tankard aside and laced his fingers across his stomach. “She be ready t’ leave when we get there?”
The other man rewarded Jack with a broad smile. “I’ll write her right away, drop it off when we’re in Tortuga so it’ll get there ahead of us.”
On to Part 4 ...
Neither moved, in fact, until almost noon; they even awoke in the same positions. Jack was the first to sit up, lifting each shoulder, shaking out his right hand, trying to chase sleeping aches from his body. The motion disturbed Will, who turned onto his back, yawning and stretching his arms back above his head, letting them fall lazily to his pillow. He kept his eyes shut. “’S it morning already?” he hummed, voice thick with exhaustion, a small smile playing about his mouth.
“I’d say mornin’s on her way out,” Jack guessed, rubbing the crust from his eyes, “judging from the rumblin’ in me stomach.”
“Hmm. We didn’t have much to eat yesterday, did we?”
“To say the least.” Jack reached up and combed his fingers through his messy, mostly-clean hair, working the tangles from the locks not tied up in braids or baubles, most hand-bored by Will. They consisted of little bits of minerals and gems left over from his smithing projects, as well as a few intensely personal items, such as a chunk of the gold decoration pried off the pommel of one of the swords Jack purloined from Francois’s ship. There was also a small, tough shell which had gotten caught in Jack’s shirt during the hurricane that had led to his rescue and first night spent on Will’s pallet; occasionally during lovemaking, the smith would pause and finger it, an odd expression interrupting his flushed features, always followed with a long, deep kiss for Jack.
He must’ve sat there ruminating too long, for he felt a small tug on one of his locks and fingers trailing down his back. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Just dwelling.” He wasn’t sure how else to explain staring at nothing for two minutes while stroking something in his hair.
“Oh?” The fingers curled about his opposite hip and applied pressure to lay back. “What’ve you figured out?”
Turning to face Will, he rested into his pillow, close to the man. “That I need some more o’ these,” he answered, twirling a beaded lock between his knobby fingers.
The smith cast a critical eye at Jack’s unruly hair. “Well … yes, it is longer now. I suppose you’ve got room for a few more these days.” He reached up to touch one, and Jack could tell from the corner of his eye it was a piece of glassy obsidian, polished to a high shine and painstakingly bored without fractures. The night he’d given it to Jack, he’d shyly explained it reminded him of the pirate’s eyes the first time he’d looked into them – and Jack remembered there’d been a delay in getting the stone into his hair, while he properly thanked the craftsman. “And?”
“Last night.” He searched large hazel eyes; it wasn’t impossible to lie to Will, but it was damned difficult, especially since they’d started sleeping together. The man had a positive talent for sussing out Jack. “I haven’t been worried in a long time ‘bout not gettin’ out of a tight spot. Least not since I was twenty.”
“Because of me.” Jack nodded.
To his surprise, Will furrowed his brow, frowned, and rolled away, pulling his arm out from under Jack. Speechless for a moment, Jack finally recovered his wits and sat up as the other man stood, the sheets falling away from his body. “What?”
“Captain Sparrow, do you think I’m incompetent?” Despite being naked, Will’s height and shoulder breadth lent his scowl an imposing air. Despite the scowl, he was naked, and Jack was momentarily transfixed. “Jack?”
“Huh?” Automatically, he shook his head. “No. What th’ hell?”
“You certain about that?” Will narrowed his eyes and scrunched the bridge of his nose. Not the nose scrunch!
Jack held up his hands, fingers splayed, to halt the conversation. “William, so help me- Look, you’re a lot of things, but I don’ think ‘incapable’ is any of them.”
“Is it my age, then? Is it this because you think of me as some sort of boy, still?”
His satisfaction of having an intelligent partner was rapidly diminishing at the inconvenience it introduced into his life. “For th’ life of me, I cannot figure where this is comin’ from.” Shoving aside the covers, he got to his knees and reached for Will’s wrist to drag him back in, but the blacksmith stood firm. “Come on, mate; now how could me worryin’ for your fine bottom be anythin’ other than a compliment?” He tried a grin.
Will shook his head, jaw set. “I’m not some woman who needs protecting.”
“Now who’s the one bein’ insulting?” Jack pointed out. “Bet if ‘Lizabeth heard that, she’d knock ye over; I know Ana would.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, you should bloody well know what I mean by now, too.”
“Enlighten me, Jack.”
“Because I worry about you, goddammit!” Jack didn’t even blink; the words didn’t surprise him, but the tone sure did. It wasn’t quite the way he wanted to declare his feelings. “Because it wouldn’t matter if you were th’ best fighter in th’ world; the fact is, ye share me bed. Because I don’t wan’ see you in pain and suffering, especially not because of some bloodfool thing I’ve done to put ye there.”
Will’s expression was unreadable, and while intellectually Jack didn’t worry about the reception of his words, part of him nervously waited for some sort of return sentiment. “You worry.”
“Yeah.”
“And … you asked last night for me to move in.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
Giving him a long, searching look, Will finally rolled his eyes and clamored onto the bed. Jack hooked him around the waist and scooted closer. “There we go,” he cooed, inching a hand up Will’s back. “Right where ye belong.”
In the middle of their involved, deep kiss, Will murmured, “Jack?”
“Mmhm?”
The smith chuckled. “I love you, too.”
A lovely shiver coursed through Jack’s belly even as realization of Will’s little performance rang in his brain. I’ve been damn well had.
*****
“I’m tryin’ to see the profit, Will. I really am, but it’s just not materializing in me mind.” Jack waved a hand near his temple to indicate thought.
“Because I’m asking.” Will leaned forward to meet Jack’s level gaze. “I’m asking you to. Is that not good enough?”
“I have a crew t’ think about,” the captain pointed out. “I can’t go gallivantin’ off across an entire ocean on th’ whim of one of that crew without ever’one else gettin’ themselves up in arms over it.” He spread his hands. “This may be my ship, Will, but I’ve got t’ take into account th’ hands aboard her.”
“All right.” Will leaned back. “I’ll talk to the crew, then.”
“Come again?”
“I’ll talk to the crew myself. Every single one individually, if I have to. I do a lot of extra work around here, and that ought to count for something.”
“Will.” Jack closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Ye don’t get it – they’re lookin’ for profit. Income. Swag. Spoils. Your extra weight up on deck or fixin’ their swords is nice, but it doesn’t translate to booty. If we start ferrying delicate passengers such as-“
“She’s hardly delicate.”
“Oh? Would you face her in a real swordfight, like ye have me? And others in this crew?” Jack stared hard at his smith. “Would ye hit her? I know for a fact ye’ve no problem decking me.”
“That’s what this is about.” Will got up and paced for the door. “That great bloody oar. Here we go again-“
“What’re you on about?”
Will turned and came up behind his chair, leaning over it just enough to make his point. “I have apologized for hitting you with that oar I don’t know how many times-“
“Twice,” Jack helped, holding up two fingers.
“And you won’t let it die.”
“No, Will. You won’t. I didn’t bring it up for the hell of it, as you know damn well.” Jack inclined his head and regarded the other man from beneath dark lashes. “Elizabeth Swann is a politician’s daughter, and a fairly important one a’ that. We cannot go ferryin’ her across the Atlantic without taking on substantial increased risk to ourselves and our chances of transacting business.”
“Mounting raids, you mean.”
“Don’t say that like you’re not part of it,” Jack snapped, a flare of annoyance in his chest.
Will opened his mouth to retort, probably something volatile, then closed it, as well as his eyes. He hesitated, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair. Jack elected to keep quiet, letting the smith break the tense silence.
“What if-“ he finally began, eyes still closed, obviously working something out in his mind. “What if we make it so the crew gets something out of it?” He looked at Jack again. “We could charge the Governor a fee, just as any captain would. Even if it’s not much to split among everybody, it’s something. And I know some of them wouldn’t mind visiting England, family and such there.”
“It’s still dangerous.” He calmed his tone to match Will’s conciliatory manner. “We may get a special dispensation from th’ Commodore to get near Port Royale, true enough, but what about when we get to British waters up north, aye? We’re pirates, Will; fair game for Norrington’s grim, colder brothers.”
“A letter of marque.”
“Oh, hell no.”
“Temporary letter of marque. Of course the Governor would authorize that, as would Norrington. They’d want to see Elizabeth reach her aunt’s safely. And, it gives us a temporary reprieve while we’re there.” Will spread his hands. “All we have to do is stay away from English ships on the way.”
Jack frowned. He didn’t like the idea of being under anyone’s control, especially not some king. “But I don’t wan’ be a bloody … privateer,” he spat. “None of th’ crew does.”
Will shrugged, not looking nearly enough defeated by the reasoning for Jack’s liking. “The crew are practical, Jack. If they can get some gold and a temporary pass to see their loved ones and have the Navy off their necks for a while, you don’t think they’ll take it?”
Sometimes, Jack reflected, being the one in charge of everyone else sucked dirty bog water. He didn’t get to be totalitarian for anything except the ship herself, and even then, Will could override on a repair decision, being better versed in the metalwork and some of the carpentry. Damn floating democracy, he thought, silently cursing the Greeks. “She’s th’ one who wrote to you,” he pointed out. “How do ye even know she can assure th’ Pearl’s safety coasting into harbor t’ so much as pick her up?”
“If I write back giving reply and notice, you don’t think she’ll guarantee our welcome?”
Reflexively, Jack put a hand to his throat. When Will didn’t change expression, he wrapped his fingers around his Adam’s apple, yanked up gently, and stuck out his tongue in gagging motion. “Yes, I know that’s a risk,” the smith conceded. “But she did help keep us away from the gallows,” he pointed out referring to Elizabeth telling her father and Norrington at the Isla de Muerta she didn’t know where Jack had gotten to. “And he let us go the last time we saw him, and we haven’t tangled with the Navy since. We helped get Francois for them, and his ship; surely we merit some sort of favor.”
Jack realized Will had a point. James Norrington was honest to a fault most of the time Jack was around him, and would probably view honoring Elizabeth’s request as some sort of damn test of his affections. He wondered if the lass had managed to make the officer fall back in love with her since her return home from France a few months ago. Jack hadn’t read her letter to Will; for all he knew, it could be begging the smith to come back to England six months hence to pick her up and sail her away somewhere to start up a sword shop in Singapore together.
Jack’s gut tightened and he felt a blind, hot few seconds of piercing jealousy. She’d better fucking not! He wasn’t sure where this came from, but it was swift and visceral, and nearly stole his breath. He was jolted out of his tangential thought process by Will’s voice – “Jack? You all right?”
Blinking, he looked up. Will was watching him closely, his brow creased. “Do you disagree with me that much?”
Shaking his head, Jack cleared his throat. “No,” he answered, not ready to explain that particular private thought. “No, I was just wonderin’ about her prospects with our man Jim after all this time, ‘s all.”
“She didn’t really say.” Will came around the chair and sat again, scooting minutely closer to Jack. “She mentioned dancing with him at a couple of functions, but nothing descriptive.” He smiled. “Her father was always so insistent she be proper, and that she was too forward even asking me to call her by her Christian name, or using mine to me.”
“Class differences,” Jack murmured.
“But she didn’t hold to that,” Will pointed out. “Anyway, she did report James isn’t yet engaged or married, so there may be hope for them after all.”
“You’d not mind her marryin’ that naval stick?” Jack arched his brows lightly.
Will laughed. “Not quite the way I would’ve said it, but … I mean, if that’s what she wants. He’s a good man. She was never too keen on marriage that I can remember, but I can see a long-term match there, so long as he knows to leave well enough alone and not try to change her.” He looked pointedly at Jack’s head, presumably at the tangles and braids therein. “Something to which I can personally testify.”
Jack shook his head, reaching for his tankard, disguising a grin behind a drink. He tried not to overbear the other man or speculate on the permanency of their living situation, but he was human; he liked these little subtle assurances by a lover as much as anyone else. “She be ready t’ leave whenever we get there?” he questioned, lowering the mug.
Will tipped his head. “You haven’t talked to the crew yet.”
He patiently set the tankard aside and laced his fingers across his stomach. “She be ready t’ leave when we get there?”
The other man rewarded Jack with a broad smile. “I’ll write her right away, drop it off when we’re in Tortuga so it’ll get there ahead of us.”
On to Part 4 ...
