Title: What Jack Wants
Author: Korax
Email: akukorax@sbcglobal.net
Pairing: pre-slash Jack/Will
Rating: PG for now
Summary: Jack always gets what he wants. . . well mostly.
Disclaimer: Damn the Mouse, he owns everything, and I own a piece of string and a futon.
Feedback: PLEASE!!! PLEASE!! It would be very welcome.
Notes: It is to be a long fic. It's in the works, but I'm working on the chapters as fast as I can. Very defiantly slash, though there will be some Het in the early chapters. Be prepared for OOCness and happy plot devices. Special thanks to Doll, my amazing beta! ^_^ Enjoy!
Jack was accustomed to getting what he wanted.
After all, the life of a pirate often involved going in and taking what he wanted, and damn the man who tried to stop him. Jack had gotten used to a life where he got what he wanted, usually when he wanted it, even if it involved killing the man who had it before him. When Jack wanted treasure, he went and found some. The same went for rum, and usually the women too, though his luck in that department had been getting steadily worse as of late. Leave it to women to get all uppity about making a few rounds now and then.
Jack was also quite protective of his things as well, like his hat. He *liked* his hat. It was a good hat, it fit his head right, and other hats just didn't feel right after you had gotten that *one* hat that fit you in all the right ways. Plus, he'd had his hat for a very long time, even after several people had tried to take it away, he always managed to get it back, so he wasn't about to let it get away from him in a hurry.
It was the same with his ship. *The Black Pearl* was *his*. This was an undeniable fact of life. No matter what happened out at sea, what crew was aboard, or whatever happened to Jack himself, the *Pearl* would only really listen to Captain Jack Sparrow, and only Captain Jack Sparrow would know how to listen to her in return. And the *Pearl* had whispered many secrets to him indeed. The *Pearl* was always first for him, and as long as it stayed that way, his ship never minded what his mind was up to. They were bonded more closely then anything else Jack had ever owned, and that was pretty close if you'd put into perspective exactly how many times Jack had gone back to find his hat.
He was also quite attached to his pistol and coat, as well as his other effects, though not quite in the same ways. His coat had gotten quite ratty with wear, but it still fared him well in a storm, and the pistol had been quite important to him for reasons of revenge. But the point was, they were all still *his* and therefore he liked to keep them close. Very close. . .
He'd had his ship, his dark wonderful mistress, taken away from him once, and that hadn't made him too pleased with the situation. Then the amount of time and effort that it had taken him to get it back had only worked to darken his already foul mood for about ten years, but like everything else he had claimed as his, he managed to get it back into its proper place, with *him*. So everything was all right again, just as he liked it.
Except that it wasn't. He felt uneasy like he hadn't ever before. He couldn't quite explain it. By all accounts he should be skipping with joy. He had his life, freedom, his ship, and he even still had his hat and other effects, yet for the last two months since Port Royal, he felt as if he had forgotten something behind, like he was still missing one of his things. It was driving him completely insane, and he wasn't too sure how sane he was to begin with.
Jack sighed, a light breeze picking up the noise and carrying it to parts unknown as his *Pearl* sailed on into the dusk. He stared unseeingly off on to the horizon as he leaned on the wheel, every so often looking to his compass and back, sometimes making a slight alteration in the course by shifting the wheel a fraction or two. He felt the wind whip his hair around his head and he allowed his body to sway silently with the ocean's rocking motion as he thought. He saw the crew working around him, paying no attention to the silent captain, as it was not their duty to question anything he did in the first place. Only the first mate AnaMaria would spare him a few glances every so often to make sure that he was still at his post.
Jack allowed himself to fall deeper into his thoughts, with not a care for the world around him, his body having learned how to become one with his *Pearl* long before.
There was still something that he hadn't managed to get, something that he wanted more then treasure, or his coat, and maybe even his hat, but that might be stretching it a bit far. He knew he wanted, he could feel the desire rise in him like the tide, he could feel his hands clench every time he thought about him. . . *him*!
Young Will Turner, the only son of his dear friend and mentor William Turner, or ol' Bootstrap Bill as he loathed to be called. Will Turner, whom Jack had met in a dusty hot Smithy, who had nearly bested him with the sword, and who had leached himself into every thought and waking moment that Jack had. Will, who fought with a strength and courage that Jack had never witnessed before, whose face would turn red with indignation whenever Jack would let the teasing go to far, who would not believe Jack when he saw the pirate blood grinning at him from behind a mask of denial, who sent him small calculating looks whenever Jack pretended that he wasn't looking, and who was the doer of incredibly *stupid* things. Strong, brave, heroic, beautiful Will . . .
. . . Whose heart completely belonged to one Elizabeth Swann. A rich, beautiful, quite strong, and incredibly clever (and that was something coming from Captain Jack Sparrow) Miss Swann who had class and power and knew how to use it. Young Will was completely infatuated with the girl, and why wouldn't he be? She was a dream come true, even if she had burned all the rum, which was not something that Jack was ever going to forgive, mind you. Never trust a girl who can hold her drink well, Jack would say (at least he said he would say later on that day as he watched AnaMaria drink most of the crew under the table) you never know what a girl like that could be up to.
Will Turner belonged to Elizabeth Swann, soon to be Elizabeth Turner, he supposed. The thought made something hot, angry, and hurtful boil up in his mind and he clutched the compass a little tighter to gain control of himself. He knew that he wanted Will for himself, only to himself, because he never shared what was his with anyone, and it enraged him to think that there was something that he wanted that was so far from his reach. He'd never had a problem with stealing what he wanted away from someone else, but in this case it would be a sight more tricky to take Will from Elizabeth, since he had no idea how to go about competing with what it was about Elizabeth's charm that chained Will to her like the lovesick pup that he was. He also knew that Elizabeth would never let him take Will from her without a hard fight. It was a delicate situation to be sure, but such things often were.
Jack rested his head on one of the numerous pegs of the wheel. A creak of wood and a splash of water and he knew that his *Pearl* was trying to soothe his busy mind. He stroked the wheel and smiled kindly, grateful that she understood. Maybe she'd even grow to love his Will too. His Will. He smirked, liking the sound it as it rolled around his mind.
"Shush Darlin', 't won't be long now. Not if Captain Jack Sparrow has a say in it, luv, don fret." He smiled as another creak and flap of sail meant she agreed with him.
Jack knew he wanted Will. And Jack always got what he wanted.
Author: Korax
Email: akukorax@sbcglobal.net
Pairing: pre-slash Jack/Will
Rating: PG for now
Summary: Jack always gets what he wants. . . well mostly.
Disclaimer: Damn the Mouse, he owns everything, and I own a piece of string and a futon.
Feedback: PLEASE!!! PLEASE!! It would be very welcome.
Notes: It is to be a long fic. It's in the works, but I'm working on the chapters as fast as I can. Very defiantly slash, though there will be some Het in the early chapters. Be prepared for OOCness and happy plot devices. Special thanks to Doll, my amazing beta! ^_^ Enjoy!
Jack was accustomed to getting what he wanted.
After all, the life of a pirate often involved going in and taking what he wanted, and damn the man who tried to stop him. Jack had gotten used to a life where he got what he wanted, usually when he wanted it, even if it involved killing the man who had it before him. When Jack wanted treasure, he went and found some. The same went for rum, and usually the women too, though his luck in that department had been getting steadily worse as of late. Leave it to women to get all uppity about making a few rounds now and then.
Jack was also quite protective of his things as well, like his hat. He *liked* his hat. It was a good hat, it fit his head right, and other hats just didn't feel right after you had gotten that *one* hat that fit you in all the right ways. Plus, he'd had his hat for a very long time, even after several people had tried to take it away, he always managed to get it back, so he wasn't about to let it get away from him in a hurry.
It was the same with his ship. *The Black Pearl* was *his*. This was an undeniable fact of life. No matter what happened out at sea, what crew was aboard, or whatever happened to Jack himself, the *Pearl* would only really listen to Captain Jack Sparrow, and only Captain Jack Sparrow would know how to listen to her in return. And the *Pearl* had whispered many secrets to him indeed. The *Pearl* was always first for him, and as long as it stayed that way, his ship never minded what his mind was up to. They were bonded more closely then anything else Jack had ever owned, and that was pretty close if you'd put into perspective exactly how many times Jack had gone back to find his hat.
He was also quite attached to his pistol and coat, as well as his other effects, though not quite in the same ways. His coat had gotten quite ratty with wear, but it still fared him well in a storm, and the pistol had been quite important to him for reasons of revenge. But the point was, they were all still *his* and therefore he liked to keep them close. Very close. . .
He'd had his ship, his dark wonderful mistress, taken away from him once, and that hadn't made him too pleased with the situation. Then the amount of time and effort that it had taken him to get it back had only worked to darken his already foul mood for about ten years, but like everything else he had claimed as his, he managed to get it back into its proper place, with *him*. So everything was all right again, just as he liked it.
Except that it wasn't. He felt uneasy like he hadn't ever before. He couldn't quite explain it. By all accounts he should be skipping with joy. He had his life, freedom, his ship, and he even still had his hat and other effects, yet for the last two months since Port Royal, he felt as if he had forgotten something behind, like he was still missing one of his things. It was driving him completely insane, and he wasn't too sure how sane he was to begin with.
Jack sighed, a light breeze picking up the noise and carrying it to parts unknown as his *Pearl* sailed on into the dusk. He stared unseeingly off on to the horizon as he leaned on the wheel, every so often looking to his compass and back, sometimes making a slight alteration in the course by shifting the wheel a fraction or two. He felt the wind whip his hair around his head and he allowed his body to sway silently with the ocean's rocking motion as he thought. He saw the crew working around him, paying no attention to the silent captain, as it was not their duty to question anything he did in the first place. Only the first mate AnaMaria would spare him a few glances every so often to make sure that he was still at his post.
Jack allowed himself to fall deeper into his thoughts, with not a care for the world around him, his body having learned how to become one with his *Pearl* long before.
There was still something that he hadn't managed to get, something that he wanted more then treasure, or his coat, and maybe even his hat, but that might be stretching it a bit far. He knew he wanted, he could feel the desire rise in him like the tide, he could feel his hands clench every time he thought about him. . . *him*!
Young Will Turner, the only son of his dear friend and mentor William Turner, or ol' Bootstrap Bill as he loathed to be called. Will Turner, whom Jack had met in a dusty hot Smithy, who had nearly bested him with the sword, and who had leached himself into every thought and waking moment that Jack had. Will, who fought with a strength and courage that Jack had never witnessed before, whose face would turn red with indignation whenever Jack would let the teasing go to far, who would not believe Jack when he saw the pirate blood grinning at him from behind a mask of denial, who sent him small calculating looks whenever Jack pretended that he wasn't looking, and who was the doer of incredibly *stupid* things. Strong, brave, heroic, beautiful Will . . .
. . . Whose heart completely belonged to one Elizabeth Swann. A rich, beautiful, quite strong, and incredibly clever (and that was something coming from Captain Jack Sparrow) Miss Swann who had class and power and knew how to use it. Young Will was completely infatuated with the girl, and why wouldn't he be? She was a dream come true, even if she had burned all the rum, which was not something that Jack was ever going to forgive, mind you. Never trust a girl who can hold her drink well, Jack would say (at least he said he would say later on that day as he watched AnaMaria drink most of the crew under the table) you never know what a girl like that could be up to.
Will Turner belonged to Elizabeth Swann, soon to be Elizabeth Turner, he supposed. The thought made something hot, angry, and hurtful boil up in his mind and he clutched the compass a little tighter to gain control of himself. He knew that he wanted Will for himself, only to himself, because he never shared what was his with anyone, and it enraged him to think that there was something that he wanted that was so far from his reach. He'd never had a problem with stealing what he wanted away from someone else, but in this case it would be a sight more tricky to take Will from Elizabeth, since he had no idea how to go about competing with what it was about Elizabeth's charm that chained Will to her like the lovesick pup that he was. He also knew that Elizabeth would never let him take Will from her without a hard fight. It was a delicate situation to be sure, but such things often were.
Jack rested his head on one of the numerous pegs of the wheel. A creak of wood and a splash of water and he knew that his *Pearl* was trying to soothe his busy mind. He stroked the wheel and smiled kindly, grateful that she understood. Maybe she'd even grow to love his Will too. His Will. He smirked, liking the sound it as it rolled around his mind.
"Shush Darlin', 't won't be long now. Not if Captain Jack Sparrow has a say in it, luv, don fret." He smiled as another creak and flap of sail meant she agreed with him.
Jack knew he wanted Will. And Jack always got what he wanted.