The Back of You
Tenebrus
A/N: Written on a plane back to school. Dedicated to my very own green-eyed Jamie, whom I miss dearly.
Disclaimer: Not mine not mine. This belongs to the Mouse. Song used is "My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose," by Robert Burns.
Pairing: Sparrow/Norrington Sparrington
Rating: PG-13 ish?
Summary: Saying goodbye never gets easy no matter how many times it's done.
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His arms are still around me when I wake and it is a serious temptation to either let him sleep, or tie his hands down to my bedposts so that he cannot go. I know where he goes to, and honestly, I could quite easily throw him in the prisons of Port Royal and see him hanged for more than one charge. Sodomy being counted among those. And if it would mean that he cannot leave me again…
These are the ramblings of a madman.
Jack's disease must be catching.
I have faced the worst of them. Of pirates. Of Spaniards. Of storms. Of hell-bent Admirals and snotty Lieutenants. I have faced outright rejection from someone I loved.
That is nothing compared to what runs through me now as I strain not to cry. I will not cry. I promise.
He stirs in my arms and I kiss him on the forehead, hoping that my halfhearted attempt will not rouse him. I am disappointed when he shifts and presses his head into the kiss and I know that indeed, he is awake now. I have a little unhappy noise burbling in my throat when he asks:
"Hm, feeling some regrets, Commodore?"
"Something of the sort." I scowl against his forehead and there is no small amount of truth in my words. If I had not given myself to this man, I would never have to face the odd schedule that we keep. I would have someone by my side in Port Royal every day.
Oh, that is such a lie. I am a man of the sea as much as my pirate. My damnable position, however, tends to keep me from the waters as much as it keeps me from the person whom I have fallen so deeply in love with. I contemplate, as I do every time he comes back for me, putting on my civilian clothes and following him onto the Pearl and swashing and buckling my way across the horizon.
And again, sheer madness.
I look down into hurt black eyes and smile a thin smile that, despite its restraint, reaches my eyes… only for him. Only for him. "Not regrets in the way you would think."
"Ah. I was worried you'd tired of Ol' Jack. Thought he was ready for the… how do you put it?"
We say in unison, "Short drop, sudden stop." Unuttered laughter cracks the air between us. "Never," I say, holding him so, so tightly. "Never."
"I know." He winks cheekily. "I'm irresistible." I box his ears, scowling. "Ah, yes, Jamie… show me your love."
"I show you love by boxing your ears?"
He grabs my wrist, holding my hand against his cheek, and I feel his smile under my touch. "I've come to terms with it."
I stare into his eyes, his golden skin, and oh God, he is beautiful. I scowl more, pensive. When he is gone, there is so much temptation. To leave him… leave all this behind. To find myself one of the many eligible ladies who have been nearly throwing themselves at me and marry her and have James Norrington II's all over the place. To put my sordid affairs behind me.
And then, he sneaks in my window, and I embrace him. I am about to tell him that I want to end it all right then and there and he has until the count of five to find his way back outside when he looks at me.
He doesn't look at anyone the way he looks at me.
His look for me is almost… dare I say it? Almost serious.
And I'm in love all over again. He never ceases to amaze me, a man of the world who has seen so much. I can tell he feels the same way, for the considering look he is giving me now. The searching eyes boring into my soul.
My dearest, my Jack… you need not look so deeply. I am laying it all out for you. This is me. This is James.
False dawn is gracing the sky outside the window and his face falls in the growing light. "Wait for me, mate. I'll be back before you can say 'Jack.'"
"A promise you have yet to keep, love."
"Aye… I'll try my best this time, mm?" A ghost of his normal persona flits across his features, and he roots around across me, behind me on the nightstand and pulls up the bottle that resides there. I always have a new one for him when he visits and he drains the last of it in a long pull. He kisses me, then, and I taste it on him.
Nasty stuff.
How is it that he can make me enjoy it so?
It is a rare occasion that I am inebriated and after the last time, I have resolved never to be so again in his presence. He has never let me live it down… the way I leaned on him, tears flowing freely from my eyes, as I uttered, 'Jaack, you're my… my ins-s-piration… I loove you…' upon which I promptly started to giggle madly at the look on his face.
It is my curse that I remember everything that happens to me when I am drunk.
Unfortunately, that had been the first time that Jack had been confronted with the veritable L-word from me, and he didn't quite know how to respond but to drag me to bed. Getting me drunk had been far less than profitable for him, for I had lost all control over my body that I once had and I didn't feel like engaging in our normal sort of activities. I only wanted to discuss my maddening feelings for him and then philosophy and theology and justice until I rambled myself to sleep.
I was not, again, able to oblige him in the morning for the roaring headache in my ears, which I slept off until he had gone on another voyage. I had thought that he had been angry with me until I received the message from him, which simply read, 'I love you too.'
That had, needless to say, been the last time Jack had allowed me too much alcohol. It was also the last time I had heard those words from him. He didn't need to say them further, though. I kept the note on the inside of my uniform, sentimental fool that I am.
I pull him close and he reaches around me and puts the bottle back on the stand before caressing my back. Damn him. He knows how much I like it when he touches my back.
I stare into his face. Oh, he knows it. He's smiling at me with the most evil smile I have seen on a man, before he kisses me passionately, hands roaming up and down every heightened nerve along my spine. He shivers as I moan against his mouth, then moves in little kisses up my jaw, to my neck, and then my ear, which he breathes against. I shudder, eyes rolling up then closing, hands tightening around him. I feel him smile against me, as one of his hands reaches down and brushes against my straining...
"Hold that thought, love." And then he is gone, and I squeak angrily, reaching around in front of me before I open my eyes again and glare at him.
"What a terrible thing to do, Sparrow. I should see you hanged just for that."
"Oh, love, don't be that way. You know I feel the same. But I must really be off, you know that."
"And I shall be glad to see the back of you," I sniff haughtily. His only response is a grin, which only serves to rattle me more. Not as much, however, as when he subsequently turns around and bends slowly over to retrieve an article of clothing from the ground.
"Like this?"
I do not dignify it with a response.
I don't bother to dress as I do not need to wake for another hour. This bears no ceremony, as we have said our farewells in this manner for several months now, and will continue to until…
Until when? Until I finally give in and join his criminal exploits? Until I return to England, leaving the beauties of the Caribbean… and Jack… behind me? Until he tires of me for some other lover? Until the sea claims one or both of us?
Until he stays, finally and forever, in my arms, when we have both grown old and have been perceived as two old bachelors? Until we reach that level of matrimony the law denies us?
This is unlikely, but I cannot help but hope and hope and hope. I close my eyes and try to fall back into slumber. I cannot bear to watch him dress.
It seems only like seconds, and yet like ages, before he leans over me and kisses me sweetly on the cheek. I feel the breath and smell the rum and I lean into the touch, despite my best wishes. Damn my willpower. It seems to have grown less and less sturdy ever since this sordid affair began.
I hear him move to the window, and the noise stops. "I'm true as I can be to you, you know."
"I know." I smell him on the sheets. "I miss you when you go away," I whisper, hoping fervently that he has not heard what has slipped from my mouth.
"And I you, James." My cheeks flush, and I turn to stare at him with surprise. But it is gone, the moment is gone, and he is shining again in the dawn and that horrible, pirate-y grin.
"Jack…"
"That's Captain Jack to you, Commodore… and don't forget it." He winks and in a moment, he is out the window, scaling down the flora that has grown over my walls.
When I think that he has gone, I curl up on my side, closing my eyes with emotional fatigue. And yet… Over the winds and waves and cries of the seagulls, I hear a lovely voice, singing, reaching into my window, only for me… only for me.
"Fare thee well my only love, and fare thee well a while, for I will come again my dear…"
Cheeky bastard. The pillow smells of rum and the sea as I smile into it, a laugh bubbling inside me, and I try desperately not to cry.