Safe is the Eye of the Storm
"Now now, Beckett, let's remember our manners, shall we? I'm only trying to have myself a nice drink."
"At my desk."
"At your desk."
"With my rum."
"Your rum. Which is rather good, by the way." He raised the bottle. "Cheers, mate! Pull up a seat." He looked around, "Doesn't seem to be another, though. Wouldn't object to a sit down on the old lap, would ya?" There was humor in his eyes.
Beckett cocked the gun. "Why is it you seem to want to go to jail? Piracy . . . buggery . . . you are a very disturbed man."
"And perfectly content to be a disturbance," he said, putting his feet up on the desk.
"Do you have anything else incriminating to say or should I just call the guards in now?"
"Speaking of what a man does with another man, Cutty," he said, eyeing his fingernails unconcernedly, "I'm not so addle-minded that your unlordlike mid-interrogation request has slipped my mind. A little attempt at humiliation, one might call it. Then again, one may be inclined to think it was more like the love that dare not speak its name."
With controlled steps, Beckett moved forward, pistol still aimed. Jack looked up at him now, with a mischievous glint in his alluring brown eyes and a smug smile on his lips.
"A simple pull of this trigger and you won't have to worry about speaking names."
"Oh come on, man," the pirate said with a grin that displayed the gold of his teeth, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. With the likes of me around, being so damned pretty, buggery isn't such a crime, is it?" He gave a little pout.
The pistol did not waver. "Firstly, I fail to see why you would show up here, which may I remind you is the place you will find yourself most easily caught, while you've no doubt got some sort of a cabin boy to 'attend you,'" he sneered. "Secondly, you mean nothing to me, you pirating scum, and suffer no delusions about my feelings toward you or any other man."
"But I wasn't always a pirate, was I? You remember what it was like before . . . before I saw what a great fat lecher the East-India Trading Company really is and left your sorry arse for better company, that is. Or, yes, before I became 'pirating scum.'" Beckett noticed how long the dark lashes were as Jack eyed the brand he'd left him years before. "Secondly," Jack continued, returning his eyes to gaze levelly at the Lord, "you underestimate my longing to create complete and utter debauchery in all ways possible, Lord Beckett."
"Debauchery?" he scoffed. "You want to taint me like it's some sort of game? You think I am pure and innocent enough—stupid enough—to debauch. You, furthermore, believe even for a moment that I would participate in something so low, especially with you? You really have lost your mind."
"You have no idea." He smiled. "Anyway, it isn't nice to interrupt. I wasn't finished speaking, Becky; that was merely what they call a dramatic pause. The third thing I felt compelled to clear up is that I suppose you're supposing I'm someone who likes to enact the 'action,' but you should know a pirate better than that by now. We believe 'tis always better to receive than to give, and not to do unto others but have them do unto us, savvy? Cabin boys aren't what a man of my tastes craves when lost in the fantasies of the forbidden love, no. I enjoy the adventure of pursuing game that's more a danger to me than I to it. Which, of course, brings us back to whether or not you're still going to call those guards," he gazed at him expectantly.
"Are you making a bargain?"
"That depends," said Jack, his feet returning to the floor as he sat up, "on whether or not you're willing to make a bargain, doesn't it?"
He lowered the gun to his side. "I'm listening."
"And the greed wins out, eh, dear friend of mine?" he gave him a knowing smirk. "I happen to realize that my mouth surrounding your piece is not exactly standard interrogation procedure. I forgive that you were so compelled—after all, I did just state that I'm quite fetching, and I know you must agree. Not to mention that I'm quite talented as well, and that you really must know."
"So I was right then. You're here to perpetuate your disgusting nature."
He nodded, "And yours." Beckett's lip curled and his hand twitched on the gun, but Jack raised a hand to placate him. "Don't play games with me, Cutler. Well not this sort anyway. And by God, please tell me I'm the first to be thrown across your desk in a fit of passion."
After a moment's pause, Beckett shrugged and sheathed his pistol.
"That's what I thought." The black-lined eyes glinted a gentle and deep brown that penetrated the blue of Lord Beckett's in ways unimaginable. He never had a chance to resist the superior charms of a pirate. Jack ended up being the first person to be thrown across his desk in a fit of passion after all.
He knew it was stupid that afterward he fell asleep next to an exhausted Captain Jack, the man's head on his chest as he leaned against the desk, both of them on the floor, but he couldn't be bothered to move. He regretted it immensely when he awoke to find nothing but a beautifully-scrawled note on his desk:
Cutty,
I don't think you're innocent or pure at all, which is
what I came for, you know, your already sinful nature. As
for the third? Yes, I do indeed think you are rather stupid. I
daresay you might agree if you'll chance a glance into your
topmost desk drawer.
So long, sweet love. Your heart beats for me only. I
should know, as it's filling my hand rather nicely right now.
Leverage, love. Leverage.
Thank you for enacting the action. I daresay I'm not the
only one who's satisfied. Your wife must be pleased with
you. Ah! silly me. You don't have one. Implication? Perhaps.
Good luck stamping out piracy now. The heart says hello.
Appreciatively,
The greatest captain of the seven seas,
Love interest of all who yearn,
Truest of tricksters,
A really bad egg,
Captain Jack Sparrow
PS: Your wig smells.