Title: Sunset on the Island
Author: Dreamiflame
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all characters from same belong to Disney, not to me.
Notes: I wrote this in fifteen minutes for a word challenge, so it's unbeated. And yes, I know the island has been done to death.
Between the rum and the hours in the sun with no food, Elizabeth's head was swimming. "Jack!" she called, and laughed, for at the moment, the name, not to mention the man himself, seemed the funniest thing in the world. "Jack! Jack! Jack!" she crowed, and toasted the sunset, drinking down the rum.
Jack staggered back over to her, arms full of driftwood. "Yes, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, and Elizabeth squinted up at him, backed by the blue sky and the flame of the dying day.
"This bottle you gave me," she said, shaking it for emphasis, and nearly falling over in the process, "is empty."
With a smirk, Jack dropped his load on the rest of the wood he'd gathered, and tumbled down to sit on the sand beside her. "Well, love, that's hardly my fault, now is it?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, noticing the quick glance he made down toward her chest. It was hardly her fault that she had only her shift on: Barbossa hadn't given her much choice. She moved her hand randomly, fluttering it as Jack often did. The rum was probably the reason the pirate acted so oddly all the time. "But still, the bottle is empty. What shall I do know?"
From the heated look that flared suddenly in his eyes, Jack had many ideas as to what she could do. Elizabeth remembered abruptly that this man was a pirate, a self-confessed scoundrel and scally-wag. The fluttering feeling in her belly didn't disperse at the thought, though, but spread, bringing heat to her lower body. Elizabeth felt herself flush.
A blink, and the lusty stare vanished back behind the facade of somewhat charming rogue. "You can have another, Miss Elizabeth. This isn't Port Royal, you don't need to ask." Nevertheless, his skin was warm where his fingers brushes hers as he handed her another bottle. Elizabeth pulled it close, concentrating fully on wiping off the dust in an effort to ignore him.
The first sip burnt again, like her very first one had, and Elizabeth breathed deeply for a moment, trying not to cough. When she looked back at Jack, barely able to see him now that the sun was almost fully behind the horizon, she caught the glitter of eyes and knew he had been watching her. "Thank you," she said, and wondered what she was really saying.
Jack shifted, the trinkets in his hair clinking together, and turned lazily to the pile of driftwood. He picked up his pistol from where he had laid it to dry, and somehow (she couldn't see) managed to light a fire. "My pleasure, love," he said over his shoulder, and the firelight threw warm shadows over half his face. "Now, have you had enough rum to sing me that song yet?"
Another gulp, and this one had ceased to burn, and Elizabeth stood, humming to herself. "Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life for me."
Author: Dreamiflame
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all characters from same belong to Disney, not to me.
Notes: I wrote this in fifteen minutes for a word challenge, so it's unbeated. And yes, I know the island has been done to death.
Between the rum and the hours in the sun with no food, Elizabeth's head was swimming. "Jack!" she called, and laughed, for at the moment, the name, not to mention the man himself, seemed the funniest thing in the world. "Jack! Jack! Jack!" she crowed, and toasted the sunset, drinking down the rum.
Jack staggered back over to her, arms full of driftwood. "Yes, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, and Elizabeth squinted up at him, backed by the blue sky and the flame of the dying day.
"This bottle you gave me," she said, shaking it for emphasis, and nearly falling over in the process, "is empty."
With a smirk, Jack dropped his load on the rest of the wood he'd gathered, and tumbled down to sit on the sand beside her. "Well, love, that's hardly my fault, now is it?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, noticing the quick glance he made down toward her chest. It was hardly her fault that she had only her shift on: Barbossa hadn't given her much choice. She moved her hand randomly, fluttering it as Jack often did. The rum was probably the reason the pirate acted so oddly all the time. "But still, the bottle is empty. What shall I do know?"
From the heated look that flared suddenly in his eyes, Jack had many ideas as to what she could do. Elizabeth remembered abruptly that this man was a pirate, a self-confessed scoundrel and scally-wag. The fluttering feeling in her belly didn't disperse at the thought, though, but spread, bringing heat to her lower body. Elizabeth felt herself flush.
A blink, and the lusty stare vanished back behind the facade of somewhat charming rogue. "You can have another, Miss Elizabeth. This isn't Port Royal, you don't need to ask." Nevertheless, his skin was warm where his fingers brushes hers as he handed her another bottle. Elizabeth pulled it close, concentrating fully on wiping off the dust in an effort to ignore him.
The first sip burnt again, like her very first one had, and Elizabeth breathed deeply for a moment, trying not to cough. When she looked back at Jack, barely able to see him now that the sun was almost fully behind the horizon, she caught the glitter of eyes and knew he had been watching her. "Thank you," she said, and wondered what she was really saying.
Jack shifted, the trinkets in his hair clinking together, and turned lazily to the pile of driftwood. He picked up his pistol from where he had laid it to dry, and somehow (she couldn't see) managed to light a fire. "My pleasure, love," he said over his shoulder, and the firelight threw warm shadows over half his face. "Now, have you had enough rum to sing me that song yet?"
Another gulp, and this one had ceased to burn, and Elizabeth stood, humming to herself. "Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life for me."