Disclaimer: I do not own Captain Jack Sparrow or Elizabeth Swann (Disney does). I only play with them from time to time.
A/N: A few years after AWE, with spoilers. Darker than my last one, (not that that'd take much. I swear this will not descend into utter fluff at the end, like my first one) but I still think it's entertaining. Of course, my humor is often described as "twisted" or "perverse", so perhaps I'm not the best judge. This is mostly an excuse to play around with different characterizations. I find I like this Elizabeth, she's more interesting. I've no idea how long this will be. I know where it ends, it's just a matter of getting there. Rating for sex, as usual. If you cannot abide even mentions of homosexuality, you'd best leave now.
Chapter One: Intimidation
It was starting to rain. In the fading light of an overcast sky, Jack sighed the weary sigh of a man who has suffered long and suffered much and whose life, just when he thought it could not possibly get worse, had. A fat, lukewarm drop landed on his nose and he shook his head irritably, earning a warning glare from one of his captors. Jack looked insolently back up at him. The man was huge, muscles shifting like continents under his skin when he moved. He had a star shaped pattern of scars on his back, as did some of the other men. Probably some heathen ritual. The other guard tugged on the rope that bound Jack's hands and said something unintelligible and no doubt uncomplimentary in Mandarin. The rain fell harder. Jack sighed again. Things just kept going from bad to worse. Ever since that business with Calypso and the Dutchman and so on, he'd had the Devil's own luck. It wouldn't have been so bad if they'd let him keep his shirt on, but no, they'd not only stripped him of his weapons, but half his clothes also. They'd even taken his boots away, although that probably had something to do with the weaponry sewn into the lining. At first he'd assumed he would be whipped, but the knowing leers of the crew informed him he was being stripped for some other nefarious purpose. It would be just his luck to get caught trying to rob the ship of the only Asian boy-fancying captain this side of South America. Usually he regarded his face as one of his chief assets, but at the moment he'd gladly exchange it for one like Barbossa's or even old Davy Jones' attack-by-squid look. Jack shifted uncomfortably between his guards. He didn't much fancy being buggered.
Another crew member sauntered out of the captain's cabin, and walked to where Jack stood, grinning in a manner that boded no good. One of the guards asked him a question and he held up a whip as an answer. They laughed. Oh, wonderful. A sadistic boy-fancying Asian captain. Jack swallowed, looking apprehensively toward the half open door of the cabin.
"So what have you caught for me today, boys?" came a languorous, British drawl from the inside of the cabin. Jack's head jerked up. He knew that voice. That's never…he thought. He watched the door of the cabin as two high leather boots stepped out, followed by long legs encased in tight breeches. Jack's eyes followed the legs to a slender waist bound by a belt from which protruded an ornate pair of pistols. A sword hung from baldric that cut across her breasts, for a her it was, and a very familiar her, too. Jack followed the curve of the shoulder to her neck, where a thick gold chain snaked around and disappeared into her shirt, and her neck to her face and there met a confident and highly amused pair of honey colored eyes.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, disbelievingly.
"Well, well, well" she said, in a sardonic drawl. "Captain Jack Sparrow."
Jack cursed whichever gods had charge of his life. Any god with an ounce of mercy would've given him to the Asian.
The man holding the whip looked startled. "You know him, Lady?" His English held a faint Japanese accent, but was otherwise flawless. "We found him in the hold, and took him for a thief. If we knew he was a friend…" The man trailed off, looking anxiously at Elizabeth.
"Oh, I wouldn't call him a friend," said Elizabeth, her amused eyes never leaving Jack's face. "Don't worry, Dai, you did right to tie him up." The man relaxed a little.
"Although," continued Elizabeth, taking a step forward, "I don't think I'll be needing the whip this time." Her glance raked Jack's half naked body, and she took another step, this time to the right, the guards respectfully moving out of her way. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she circled around behind Jack, her boots thudding deliberately on the deck. Jack stared directly ahead of him, determined not to be—or at least show he was—intimidated. She stopped behind his back.
"It would be a pity to mar such beautiful skin, wouldn't it?" she asked, running a fingertip lightly between his shoulder blades. Jack stiffened and fought the urge to squirm. He tried to convince himself the goose bumps he felt rising were from the rain. He'd never felt more exposed in his life. Elizabeth laughed softly from behind him, and finished her circle.
"Take him to my cabin, but do not leave him alone until I come back. I'll be there shortly." The man called Dai nodded as Elizabeth walked toward the helm.
"Yes, Lady."
"Oh, and Dai?" called Elizabeth over her shoulder, turning to look back at them. Her eyes met Jack's for a moment, and she smiled, wicked and feral. "Leave the ropes on."
Dai grinned, and inclined his head. "Yes, Lady."
Jack watched Elizabeth's back as she sauntered away. Dai put a hand on his shoulder.
"If you would follow me, sir?"
All in all, he reflected, I still would prefer the Asian.
