Pirates of the Caribbean, Secret Santa 2004
Merry Christmas, Ophelia. You requested something with Jack and hinted at Norrie. By your command.
This is a sunny tale that belongs somewhere after the Kettle of Hawks story line. I wanted to have some sailors enjoy a perfect day just for the sheer joy of it. No angst, no hurt, no drama, no mayhem.
Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse. No infringement intended, no profit made.
Special Delivery
It was a perfect day.
Absolutely.
Indubitably.
Without question.
Perfect.
The sun blazed brilliantly white gold, the sky a deep azure vault with towering white castles building over the islands beyond the horizon. Even the wind gods obliged with a fine strong breeze that let the Pearl race, slicing through the white caps and sending plumes of spray back along her dark sides. The sea itself was in a merry mood, vivid shades of jade, turquoise and lapis gleaming lushly around the great ship's hull as Poseidon's silver-sided children gambolled in her bow wave, their clicking laughter sounding back to the ship's master and crew.
Jack braced his arms on the rail and laughed for the pure elation of it all, enjoying the gift of such a day with his entire being, at one with his ship. The crew members nearby smiled indulgently at the sight of the slender man, shirtless and bronzed, the wild black hair snapping and tangling in the breeze, braids and trinkets whipping about freely. Gibbs grinned as he looked back at Anamaria and raised his flask for a sip to honour the day. She rolled her eyes at him, then relaxed and let her own smile appear, dimples replacing her customary scowl as she guided the Pearl.
"Sail ho!"
"Where away?" Jack shouted back, watching for the lookout to point to the target. Gibbs trotted up, opening his spyglass as he approached the rail and handing it to his captain
Jack peered through the eyepiece but was unable to glimpse the sails indicated.
"It's small, Captain, about four points abaft the larboard beam and out quite a ways," the lookout hailed the deck a second time.
Jack tried again then he thrust the glass through his sash and swung up into the rigging, climbing agilely up to the lower yard. Settling himself comfortably, Jack used his glass once more and sighted the sails in question.
An elegant sloop, small enough to be handled by a lone sailor, was tearing along on an intercepting course to the Pearl, an impressive spread of canvas bleached white under the tropic sun. Whoever was at her tiller knew his business, Jack thought to himself as he admired the clean lines of the little vessel racing toward them, wondering about the identity of the sailor. The Pearl was known throughout the Caribbees and beyond and was unmistakable with her black hull and smoke-dark sails; few would be so bold as to approach her in this manner.
Jack's expression turned mischievous, why "not" make a race out of it? After all, the winds were fresh, there were no pressing concerns for him today, no navies out to capture him or anything else. He had not had the chance for such joyous sport with his Pearl for many a dreary year and here was the opportune moment handed to him.
"Gibbs! Anamaria! Come about so that we are matching the same course to that sloop and make full sail. We're going to have us a race!"
They looked at each other then up at Jack perched along the yard above them.
"Get a move on, you scabrous dogs!"
Gibbs grinned broadly, his eyes alight and his whiskers bristling, even more badger-like than usual as he bellowed orders to the crew. Anamaria brought the Pearl's head around until they matched the course of the sloop and felt the ship respond under her hands as more sails were unfurled and trimmed. Under her feet, she could feel the hull surge as the speed increased, the sheer power she controlled under her hands making her laugh aloud in delight.
Jack watched through the glass as the sloop responded to his challenge; her fore and aft rig allowed her to sail closer to the wind than the square-rigged Black Pearl, giving the little ship an edge. The sloop's course altered to take up the gauntlet and her sails billowed out even more splendidly as the small jib was exchanged for a larger one and she really began to fly, heeled over so that her hull cut sleekly through the waves. Every scrap of wind was used by the master seaman on the other vessel, employing the weather gauge to the utmost.
They ran like this for over an hour before Jack's curiosity got the better of him. He had come down from the yard earlier as the sloop drew nearer to his Pearl. He wanted to discover the identity of the man who sailed her and offer him a drink of rum in congratulation. Jack admitted privately that he also wanted to hear the reason he was being chased today.
He ordered sails reduced to slow the Pearl enough so that he could hail the other vessel. As the sloop drew nearer, Jack used his spyglass for a closer look at her. The hull was a dark blue with a gilt strake just below the gunwale, very elegant with her cabin superstructure in rich mahogany and white-painted trim, polished brightwork mirroring the sun. He could make out the gilt scroll work at her bow but the man at the helm was hidden for the moment. In a jaunty move, the sloop pulled ahead slightly of the Pearl, declaring she had won their race, and then eased back to match speeds with her, allowing Jack to hail the other, from his perch back up in the shrouds.
"Ahoy there, mate! Who might you be and what brings you to the Black Pearl on such a fine day as this?" Jack shouted over, using his hands in lieu of a speaking trumpet.
Instead of hailing back, the man waved at Jack, running up a line of signal flags that made Gibbs take sudden notice.
"Those be Royal Navy signals, Jack," Gibbs exclaimed in some surprise. They had seen neither identifying flags nor marks on the sloop and had yet to have a clear view of her stern.
"I know, Gibbs, I recognize them too," Jack answered, intrigued now more than ever. Even with the spyglass, he had only been able to get glimpses of a dark-haired man in a billowing white shirt over in the sloop's cockpit, mostly hidden by the boom and mainsail.
"He's asking to meet with us."
"Aye, Josh. All right, we'll see what the fellow wants of us. Anamaria, come about and bring us in irons," Jack called over to the woman at the helm. She shook her head but hauled the wheel over until the Pearl's sails spilled their air and slatted loosely, feeling the ship slow as she lost her impetus. Enough sails were reset to keep the Pearl stable and on the rudder.
The crew gathered to the rail and shrouds in interest, speculating as to the identity and purpose of the lone man who had been pursuing the Pearl. Marty made use of an overturned bucket to gain sufficient altitude to see over, elbowing the pirates on either side to make them give way for him. Out of habit, they obliged; Marty had been known upon occasion to use a dagger's point to encourage the slow movers. He was small, not insignificant.
The pretty little thing kept to her course, speeding cheekily past the now-lumbering Pearl and showing them her heels as she crossed the bow to gain sea room. The sloop made a fast racing turn and came back, slipping into the lee of the great black hull as her sails were dropped. Her master caught the lines thrown to him and secured his sweetheart safely, rope fenders slung over her sides, then finished furling her sails neatly under the critical eyes of the Pearl's crew and captain.
"Ahoy there, mate," Gibbs shouted down to the man. "What business do you have with the Black Pearl this day?"
The fellow looked up, glanced over the faces peering at him and grinned broadly, the straight dark hair windblown out of its lacing obscuring his lean features somewhat.
"Well, Mister Gibbs, I come to deliver a message to your captain, if you can get him out of the rigging, that is," came a pointed response in a cultured drawl whose familiarity startled the former Navy man into stepping back a pace.
"That can't ever be…Commodore Norrington! Is it yourself, then?" Gibbs called down, still disbelieving his eyes and ears. In his experience, officers such as Norrington came dressed in full uniform and attitude to match. This fellow, clad in a linen shirt open to thebroad black beltat his waist, sleeves rolled above the elbows, brown breeches, and barefoot to boot, looked nothing like the man to whom the voice belonged. If Gibbs wasn't mistaken, he had caught sight of something dark exposed where Norrington's shirt had fallen aside, something that looked suspiciously like a tattoo. And sailing alone in such fashion, besides. Well, at least there was a real sailor under that weighty uniform. His fellow pirates stared, gobsmacked.
By this time, Jack had returned almost to the deck and, standing on the rail, hung on to the ratlines and leaned out to call down in turn.
"Well, James, had fun, did you, racing my Pearl?"
"What do you think, Jack?"
"Couldn't resist that last little bit, could you? Showing off like that."
"On a day like this? Why waste the opportunity when I have it?"
"Know what you mean. What's her name, by the by? Couldn't quite make it out. And where did you steal her from, anyway?"
"She's called The Swift. I designed her and had her built a year past in Portsmouth."
"You designed her?"
"I believe that was what I said, Jack. Are you not going to invite me aboard?"
"Ah, I'm forgetting my manners, I am. Oy! Throw a line over for our visitor."
Jack gave the order, not bothering to call for a ladder, just for fun, and watched as the tall man slung a satchel over his shoulder and climbed up quickly, boosting himself easily over the rail. Once on deck, Norrington scraped his hair back and retied it neatly at the nape of his neck, extending his hand then in greeting to Jack.
Jack, in his turn, swayed back and peered at the proffered hand in his now customary performance of dubious trust. The hand's owner held it up for inspection and declared it wasn't very dirty; it had been washed as recently as that morning and then held it out again. This time, Jack took it and they shook hands primly, straight-faced, then both grinned and laughed as they looked at the peculiar looks on the puzzled faces surrounding them.
"Well, James, now that you're aboard, what is it that's so important it had you racing to meet a pirate ship?"
"I come bearing an invitation from Mrs. Turner. You know it's easier to do as she commands rather than try to resist, don't you, Jack?"
"Aye, I know. A force of nature is our Lizzie. What sort of invitation?"
"Are you not going to offer your guest some refreshment, now that I've gone to all this effort to track you down?"
Jack grinned up at the taller man, the sun glinting off his gold and silver teeth, dark cinnamon eyes crinkling in good humour, meeting the striking green eyes glowing vividly in the bright light. Clapping James on the shoulder, Jack turned and strolled off for the great cabin, waving to the other to follow along.
"How are the Turners, James? It's been three months since I saw them last."
"They are doing very well, as you might expect, Jack. Will has the skills and love of his craft and Elizabeth has the business acumen and drive. Between them, they are establishing his reputation further afield. Their house is coming along well; I expect she will be looking to engage their servants soon. All in all, Weatherby has become accustomed to the whole thing. Will and he are actually growing closer, perhaps because they have Elizabeth in common to commiserate over. Will has put much effort into learning how to be a gentleman and fitting in but he's still his own man, how ever much he wants to please his wife. He's becoming quite accomplished at wooing the society nobs, whatever he thinks of them privately."
"Hmm, I'm glad to hear this, Jamie, for all I wish Lizzie had been kinder to you. She was too young and enamoured of pirates and young Bootstrap to appreciate what she was losing when she chose Will." It still rankled Jack how a good man had been treated, and in such a public humiliation.
"Water under the bridge, Jack. They are doing well together and time should take care of any immaturity left. At least they are become good friends to both of us. I fully expect at some point in the near future, we will become Uncle Jack and Uncle Jamie to whatever young they manage to produce. If the fates are just, then that pair will have children exactly like themselves, a most suitable revenge that I, for one, fully intend to foment to the utmost."
"You know, you are a good deal more devious than you look, Jamie."
James smiled at his unlikely friend, his whimsical expression quite charming Anamaria who had left the helm to peer down at the attractive man as they came aft. Her eyes did not leave his face until the two men had passed from sight below her vantage point. Cotton had watched her sudden interest as he took the wheel, smiling to himself at the young woman and stroking Parrot's face around the beak to distract him, or her, from making rude comments. For the moment, Parrot was contentedly snuggling against Cotton's whiskery cheek, crooning softly to the man and disinclined to offer any remarks, rude or otherwise.
Jack opened the door to the cabin and ushered James politely inside, shutting the door behind them, to the disappointment of his inquisitive crew. James looked around in interest, he had seen the wretched exterior of the ship during the episode with Barbossa and the skeleton pirates but had not had the opportunity to inspect it after Jack had restored her. The luxury of the cabin's appointments did not come as a surprise to him but it suited both Jack and the great ship, hedonists, the pair of them. His own Dauntless was more spartan though every bit as majestic.
"You've done well by the Pearl, Jack. She's looking every bit as fine as she ought now."
"Thank you, James. It's taken quite a lot of work and money, finding the materials and craftsmen, but it's been worth it."
Jack gave the wood nearest him an admiring and loving caress, a slight tilt of the deck giving the impression the ship leaned back into his hand in thanks. James quirked an eyebrow at the image, then simply accepted it, shrugging. Normal science seemed not to be a part of Jack and the Pearl's relationship and he felt no particular urge to question it.
Jack smirked back at him and moved to the heavily carved dark mahogany table to offer rum with lime and water for refreshment, as well as fresh fruit. They took their drinks and sat on the bench along the stern lights, enjoying the warm breeze that came in the open ports. James had removed his satchel and now rooted around in it for the formal invitation from Elizabeth, handing it to Jack to open.
"You mentioned this was an invite, James. What sort is it?"
"Well, you know, you could just open the letter and read it for yourself. I know perfectly well you can read; every time you're near a book, you just can't resist it."
"You can't just tell me, Jamie? You know Lizzie's writing is a brute to decipher, she crosses the page back and forth, sideways and every which way to save paper." Jack whined a bit and made pleading eyes at James. James looked at the expression directed at him and merely sighed.
"Oh, very well. Some pirate you are. She is inviting you, Gibbs and Anamaria for Christmas Eve dinner at the Governor's mansion. There will be others there for it is an occasion so you will all have to dress appropriately and behave yourselves. In other words, don't look so much like pirates and mind your manners. Will can accommodate you three at their new house or the forge, if you are so minded, otherwise we will have to arrange something else for you."
"Actually, I was thinking I could stay with you, Jamie. That way, we can get in some games of chess and all. It's been a while since we played and I've not finished exploring your library yet. You've a far better cellar than Will, for that matter. Anyway, your housekeeper likes me."
"Considering the way you coo at her every time you're there, that's hardly a surprise. I'm still waiting for Mrs. Bloom to slap you, especially after the way you bussed and pinched her last time." James shook his head at Jack, tsking both at his behaviour and that he got away with it to boot.
"Nah, Mrs. B. will never slap me, she thinks I'm just fine, just as I am. So there." Jack stuck out his tongue at James.
James' only response was to give Jack his best "midshipmen, ye be warned" look and take another sip from his glass. Rising, he wandered over to the cabinet on the forward bulkhead, wishing to see what the pirate had on display. The heavy carving recalled an earlier age of grandeur, something the ships had mostly lost in the modern age, and James wanted to inspect the craftsmanship more closely.
"So, James, how long have you been designing boats?"
"It's something I began doing as a boy but this is the first I've designed that's been built. I wanted something I could handle myself so I could take her out when I want to have some time on my own. She handles well; today was the first time I've been able to really put her through her paces. Fortunately, Elizabeth gave me a reason to take her out and there were no urgent issues to deal with, such as rogue pirates and the like."
"In other words, you decided to have a holiday and actually enjoy yourself. I'm proud of you. You should do it more often."
"It's difficult to get away like this, Jack; you know what my duties are."
"Aye, I know. It's not before time that you're taking some leave for yourself. That reminds me, how did you know where to find us?"
"I had word from Tortuga and you were sighted by a patrol that returned to port yesterday."
"From Tortuga, you say? That raises its own question, don't it"
"So it would seem." James raised his brows derisively, showing Jack that no more details would be forthcoming.
"No matter. Now that you're here, how's about showing me your pretty little boat? I've been itching to have a look at her since I saw how she moved, even before I knew it was your own fine self coming to meet us."
"Very well, let's go then." James needed no encouragement to show off his pride and joy.
The two put their glasses down on the tray and left the cabin, Jack pausing to pat the Pearl and whisper, "No need to be jealous, love, only going to have a look at your little sister." A tiny surge under his feet helped him on his way. Apparently the Pearl approved of her new relative.
The two men headed back out to the deck and scrambled down the line to the sloop. James showed Jack through her cabin and around her deck. She was small but exquisitely designed and detailed, a lovely creature any sailor could admire. Jack certainly appreciated her as his clever hands touched and stroked the fine wood and metalwork. He wanted very much to feel how she behaved for someone other than her James.
Norrington watched him, amused and understanding, calling up to Gibbs that they were going to go for a short sail and not to worry that he was abducting their captain. Gibbs waved at him in acknowledgement. He then released the lines and they raised the sails as they came out from the Pearl's shadow.
It took very little for the Swift to catch the wind and pick up speed. James handled the sheets whilst allowing Jack the tiller. Together they sailed blithely along, tacking and gybeing back and forth as the whimsy took them. After an hour or two of play, Jack then brought her around in a wide arc to return to the Pearl, coming back into the lee of the black hull as James had done earlier. They tied up to the Pearl and climbed back aboard, a broad smile on each satisfied face.
"She's a rare treat to handle, James. You've got quite the talent there. Do you have other designs drawn up?"
"Some, but they're not as far along as the Swift. You can have a look at them when you come."
"I'd like that fine. Do you have time for a meal with us or do you have to head back to Port Royal right away?"
"I've taken several days leave so am in no hurry to return. I would appreciate a meal and a chance to look over the Pearl more thoroughly, if I may. She's an unusual ship and I'd like to learn more about her and how she sails so well."
Jack grinned happily at this praise of his love then called to Gibbs to see a meal for the four of them was set up in his cabin. Christmas was going to be interesting this year, thanks to the whelp and the spitfire.
He was quite looking forward to it all.