Lessons Well Learned
Author: Violet Raven
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: As per usual, I own absolutely nothing even remotely related to the 'Pirates of the Caribbean', nor could I stand not to abuse that power had I been given it. So there. ;)
Summary: Women just don't seem to understand Jack Sparrow…
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Contempt flashed in a determined glint through Captain Jack Sparrow's kohl rimmed obsidian eyes, a hint of madness emanating from and capturing his appearance. His fingers danced in the air, twirling out ideas that were running rampant through a perturbed mind. All around him drunks were swaggering and shouting, but Jack's concentration stayed unbroken. Eyes set to the piece of scribbled parchment before him, not even the crashes made by tumbling and fighting bodies could make him look up.
"It'll be easy, she says…" the pirate captain mumbled sarcastically to himself, attention affixed begrudgingly on the task at hand, and on the task-giver. He shook his head, multi-colored beads swaying in a tangled mass of long raven hair. "Like Jack Sparrow is incapable of performing even th' slightes' tasks, eh? Of course, puzzles always prove a lad's intelligence. Of course." He picked up a feathered quill, downed a brimming mug of rum, and resumed his deep thought. "A man's… capabilities are not t' be trifled with. I'll finish this if it's th' last thing I do, mate…"
He picked up the parchment and put a messy strike through a few words, moving on to the next. Below his table, his feet, enveloped in large boots, dangled and jiggled in contemplation. Without intention, he let his foot slip and kick the table leg in aggravation. He resented games, but Maria had said that this would prove him to her. Or something like that. Truth was, he hardly understood her half the time, what with her big words thrown around aimlessly.
"Thirty-five down: a five-letter word for intoxicated…" Grumbling to himself and biting his tongue he wrote in 'd-r-u-n-k'. "If tha' girl's implying somethin'…"
He grabbed another glass of rum, quickly and sincerely thanking the man who had brought it to him.
"Thirty-seven: a four-letter word for a two-timing, thieving pirate. Starting with a J?"
His eyes widened in aggravation and disbelief, turning his skin an even darker shade of crimson. Flinging his chair back, he stood up with an inebriated sway. He spun around and came face-to-face with a lovely redheaded woman, spectacles perched low on her pointed nose, and displaying a similar glare to Jack's.
"Maria, love, I-"
SMACK.
He glowered, rubbing his sore cheek with one hand as the petite woman walked away, stacks of books cradled in her arms.
"Oh, an' this was easier than saying, 'Sorry, Jack, it's over'?" he called after her loudly, gruff voice tweaked and swirled with rage and humilitaion. Then, to himself, he added, "I really wish women would find another way t' deal with their frustration, savvy?" Sitting down slowly with a frown curving his features, he mumbled, "That is th' last time I look fo' a smart lass…"
--FIN--