"Hello, you've reached The Captain's Pizzeria, how can I help you?"
"Yes, this is Hector; I'd like to order a medium supreme pizza."
"Alright, and where do you want that delivered to?"
"123 west 4th street, if you please."
"Okay sir, your pizza should arrive within forty minutes"
"Glad to hear it."
Hector Barbossa turned off his phone with a contented sigh and placed on the table. He was looking forward to sinking his teeth into a hot slice of pizza. A gurgling noise came from his stomach, agreeing with his thoughts.
Confident that food was on its way, Hector strode out into his living room and flicked on the TV, flopping down on his couch to watch the Gilligan's Island rerun playing out on the screen.
It wasn't until the eleventh episode – the channel was running some kind of Gilligan's island marathon – that Hector realized that his pizza was very, very late.
And he was very, very hungry.
Angrily, he pulled himself off of the couch and walked back into the kitchen. Grabbing his phone off the table, he dialed the pizza place once more. While the phone was dialing, Hector leaned back against a countertop, drumming his fingers impatiently. Eventually, the phone picked up, and Hector heard the same voice as before on the other end. He didn't bother introducing himself this time.
"I ordered a pizza hours ago and it sill isn't here," he snapped, "what the bloody hell is taking ye so long?!"
"I'm sorry sir, could you please tell me the name you placed the order under?" asked an irritatingly calm voice on the other end of the phone.
"Hector," he growled.
"Well, sir, I seems that your order was made and sent out about ten minutes ago. It should be there soon, and we're very sorry about any inconveniences."
Hector opened his mouth to give a sharp retort, but at that exact moment he heard a knock on his door. "alright," he muttered, ending the call and stalking out to answer the door.
He almost ripped the door off it's hinges opening it. But his anger dissipated when he saw that it was the delivery boy standing outside in the cold, arm still poised to knock.
He took in the sight before him – for it truly was a sight. The boy – man, Hector saw now – was about a head shorter than Hector, and clad in an untidy red delivery uniform with a small metal nameplate reading Jack. He had tattooed and suntanned skin and he sported a small goatee on his chin, along with dreadlocks pulled back into what could almost pass for a ponytail.
Too late, Hector realized he'd been staring. But, to be fair, this… Jack seemed to be studying him as well. Hector suddenly felt self-conscious of his greying hair and scraggly beard. He quickly rebuked himself for feeling self-conscious and tried to snap himself out of it.
"Well, lad. I take it that there be my pizza?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
Jack seemed to start, blinking once and giving his head a tiny shake before responding, "right, of course." He handed the older man the box that had been in the hand he hadn't been knocking with, flashing Hector a toothy smile that revealed several gold teeth.
Hector accepted the box gratefully, remembering his hunger. "Why don't ye step in for a moment, lad, while I fetch me money." He gestured toward the inside of his house.
Jack nodded gratefully, "I just might, at that."
Hector grinned once and opened the door wider to let the man in, closing it against the chill air once Jack was inside.
He set down the pizza before heading off to grab his wallet. It didn't take long for Hector to locate the wallet and pull out the money due, walking back with said money in his hand.
"I'll give you this just as soon as I make certain nothin's wrong with me order," Hector drawled, lifting the lid of the pizza box while shooting a glare at Jack. He was incredibly hungry, and hunger was making him irritable.
Hector looked down at what he had expected to be a pizza. No such luck. He growled under his breath. Breadsticks.
"This isn't my order," Hector snapped at Jack.
"It isn't?" Jack asked, backing up a step towards the door.
"No it bloody isn't," Hector shouted. "Look at this," he snarled, shoving the open box into Jack's face. Jack gazed down at the food before him. "Does this look like a pizza?" Hector demanded.
Jack looked back up to meet Hector's angry glare. "Well that all depends on how you look at it, mate," he said quickly as Hector took a few steps forward.
"And how do you suppose I should look at it," Hector all but growled. "I ordered a pizza. And this. Is. Not. A. Pizza." His voice had steadily risen as he spoke until he was shouting, Jack flinching at every word.
"Ah…" Jack said slowly, eyes darting about nervously, "What if I told you that company policy states that if you're… dissatisfied… with your pizza," he paused for a heartbeat, swallowing thickly as Hector took another step forward, now standing uncomfortably close to the delivery boy, "then we'll send you another one for free," he squeaked out, backing into the door.
A thought crossed Hector's mind, unbidden – that Jack looked adorable when he was frightened. He shook his head, refusing to follow that train of thought.
"For free, you say?" he asked, allowing his expression to lose some of it's fury.
Jack nodded vehemently. "I'll deliver it myself."
Hector snorted, but nodded and held up his phone. "Should I call yer boss about this then?"
"Er… no. I'll take care of it," Jack said. He pulled out his own phone. "If you don't mind…?"
"By all means," Hector said, a long-suffering expression settling across his features.
Jack grinned at him and dialed something on his phone quickly. Before too long he began speaking rapidly into the phone, explain the situation. Hector had to fight off an encroaching feeling of amazement at how well Jack took care of the situation, for within a few minutes Jack had turned off his phone and was telling Hector that his new pizza would be arriving shortly.
"And how can I be sure yer tellin' the truth, eh?" Hector asked when Jack was done.
Jack looked mildly affronted. "How about this. I'll give you me phone number and you can text me if you think I'm taking too long," he proposed, holding up his phone for emphasis.
Hector agreed readily enough. He certainly wasn't going to object to having this man's number on hand…
After exchanging numbers, Jack left, promising to return within the hour. And Hector returned to his place on the couch, hoping against hope that food would arrive before he starved to death.
The sound of knocking on his door came as a welcome break from the show still playing out on TV. Hector glanced at his phone to see that Jack had texted him.
"I'm outside with your pizza – Jack"
Hector grinned to himself and rushed to answer the door. He was famished.
Sure enough, there on his doorstep was Jack, shivering in the cold night air. Hector opened the door all the way, allowing Jack to step inside, closing the door behind the boy once again.
Hector raised an eyebrow. "I trust this one be proper then?"
Jack grinned triumphantly in response, light reflecting off his gold teeth as he held up the pizza box with one hand and opened it toward Hector with the other. "Feast yer eyes, mate."
A satisfied grin found it's way onto Hector's face. "Why thank ye Jack." He reached out to accept the box. "I do hope it wasn't too much trouble," he said absently, for formality's sake.
"Not at all, mate. That's my last delivery for tonight, so I'm off home," Jack replied, "And that one's free for you, so I'll be off."
Hector chuckled. "I'll be sure to call you anytime I need a pizza."
"By all means," Jack said with a grin, taking his leave of the place.
As Hector returned to the couch, finally sating his hunger, he heard the tires of Jack's car squeal as he raced away. He wondered idly if he'd make good on his promise to call Jack. But then, he thought, why not? You only live once, as they say. He pulled out his phone and saved Jack's number under a new contact name: Captain Jack