Title: Caribbean Cocktail
Author: musexmoirai
Pairing: Elizabeth/Jack, Elizabeth/Will
Rating: PG-13
Category: Comedy
Feedback: If it's nice, that's good. If it's useful, that's better.
Disclaimer: Not mine, they're Disney's. Savvy?
Notes: Remember when Jack and Elizabeth are stranded on the island? This takes place before their bonfire bonding moment.
Summary: How did Jack ever get the fire started? Why did Elizabeth get drunk? How much does Jack know about cattle births? Where do swords, dirty seagulls, and bongos have to do with all these? And the greatest question of all: What exactly did they do on that beach?
***
The gulls were landing on the shore of the small island to roost. It was an odd place to rest but it was relatively safe considering that no humans ever set foot on it. It was an undistinguished spit of land out in the middle of the wide ocean and no one ever noticed it enough to remember it except for one.
But he was long gone and the gulls were blissfully frolicking in their insular paradise. That was until the sand kicked up on the distance, heralding the arrival of a new danger. Loud crashes could be heard coming from the underbrush, right where the foliage extended into the sand. Panicked, the seagulls fled in a flurry of wings.
A prime piece of womanflesh emerged from the shade of the palm trees and strode across the sand with all the purpose of an English bloodhound on the hunt. Her hair and clothes were in disarray but nonetheless did not disguise her lovely big-eyed, full-lipped features and gently swelling bosom that rose and fell with every breath she took.
The wiry, dark-haired man trailing behind her apparently took no notice of these womanly charms, so intent was he on the bottle of rum he held in one hand. Every once in a while, he would mutter a string of nonsense syllables and take a swig of his drink. His gold teeth glinted in the sun.
The young woman, Elizabeth Swann was her name, surveyed her landscape with a gaze venomous enough to shrivel up surrounding wildlife (but seeing as there wasn't much in the way of local flora, the effect was less impressive than one would expect). With all the grace of a lamenting Ophelia, she shuffled off the sand and into the ocean water. She tipped her head to the uncaring heavens and wailed with all the emotion of her teenaged heart. It was a long, drawn-out moan that probably began life as the word "William" but was now indecipherable.
"You keep right on doing that, love," the man behind her said dryly, "until you attract all the sharks in the Caribbean."
The banshee wailing stopped. "If you are trying to scare me, Mr. Sparrow," Elizabeth said primly. "I assure you that it is not working." But even as she said this, she backed slowly out of the water until she was standing next to him.
A small dark figure toddled over to her and earnestly began to attack her, flapping wing-like appendages. "Good God! What is this thing?"
"It's a dirty seagull," her companion replied.
She kicked at it viciously. "It looks like a rat with wings!"
Captain Jack Sparrow was lying flat on his back on the sand and trying his best to ignore her. "Is she always this high strung?" he asked himself and answered. "Perhaps it was something in the corset." Then he turned to look at Elizabeth and the assorted knickknacks in his hair clinked. "You wouldn't happen to be one of those crazy Amazonian warrior women I have heard about from.well, I suppose some harbor that I cannot recall at the moment. Because that would be inconvenient."
"You uncultured savage!" she cried in despair and booted him in the side, eliciting a soft "oof" in response. "Couldn't I have been stranded on this island with anyone else but you? Do you ever say anything of use?"
"If you've nothing else to do but kick me, you could search the island instead."
"I've already have! We've made an entire circuit around this forsaken sandpile and we're right back to where we've started, only you've been too drunk to notice!"
Jack leaned up, his eyes glittering raccoonishly in their kohl-black frames. "Why so we have!" he cried and leapt up, surprisingly nimble. "And there's the rum stash right there. And I've near run out this bottle," he headed toward the alcohol, swaying as he walked. "Our luck must be blessed, Ms. Swann."
"Everything's blessed as long as you've got your blasted drinks," she muttered under her breath and followed him.
Jack was whistling and pulling up wooden boards, his mood more cheerful than ever. He pulled up bottle after bottle of drink, assessing the value of each one. "You've got a crack in your side, won't do. Let's have a look at your year, shall we? Arrgh, needs aging." Both where gently set to the side. "Oh, you're a right beaut. Color, smell, and. ahh, taste."
"Is the indomitable Captain Sparrow actually showing affection? Wonders never do cease."
"Watch your sass, Ms. Guv'ner. It won't be long before you realize spirits are truer to you than most lovers. I treat my wine better than I treat my women."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you insinuating?"
Jack waved his hands. "Hit a hard note, eh? I'm not saying that Mr. Turner's been having indiscretions behind your back but you can never tell about these eunuchs, can you? The boy is not fully in possession of his wits. He hasn't seem to shown an interest in women." He looked surprised for a moment and flicked his fingers in her face. "Well, I could be wrong. You are a woman, aren't you?"
"You," she replied stiffly, "are giving me a headache and I've no idea what you're on about. Pass me a bottle."
"I have and you've tossed it. Awful thing to do. A man could live two days off the stuff. Milady, you have numbered our days." He waggled a finger at her.
"You are mad. Now pass me a bottle."
"Here you are." A flourish and the rum was in her hand. Jack was rummaging through the stash and something else seemed to have caught her eye. "And what have we here. hello."
Elizabeth was peering at the bottle, trying to figure out the best way to go about opening it. Then she looked up to see Jack carrying what appeared to be a drum. She almost dropped her rum in surprise.
"Is that a.drum?"
"'S a bongo. Forgot it was here." He tried out a few experimental beats.
"Ahh.yes. a bongo."
"From Africa. Care to try?"
"Why not? I've already fallen into the bowels of sin and depredation by keeping company with you. What's one more black mark on my soul?"
"That's the spirit. Here. no, you go about it like this. Too much fingers, use your palm." Bang, duh-dong bang. "Here, take a draught of the rum. There's a good girl."
The alcohol burned down Elizabeth's throat and the unfamiliar taste made her gag. She coughed and leaned her head to the side, spitting it back out.
"It's like that with most people." Jack nodded sagely. "Nothing to be ashamed about."
After she had finished coughing, she gave him a measure glance. Then she grabbed the bottle out of his hand and downed the rest of the drink.
Jack Sparrow watched her guzzle the drink and grinned wolfishly.
An hour later, there were seven empty bottles strewn around and the little bongo drum had been utterly decimated by too-enthusiastic pounding. Elizabeth was sprawled out on the shore, her dress riding high up on her thighs. Jack was straddling her hips and both of them were panting quite heavily.
"And then," he was saying through raucous laughter. "I was all thinkin' that her stomach 's big enough to hold all th' gold of Cortez." He poked Elizabeth's stomach and she squealed, barking "Ha!" into his face. Her breath reeked of rum.
"What happened then?" she wanted to know.
"Well, then, I peeked in between her legs like this." He moved to demonstrate.
"Don't you dare! And get off me!" She pushed him hard and he fell back on the sand.
"But I's a pirate," he protested, "and I'm to ravage young maidens like yourself."
"No, no, that's not an excuse. Tell me what happened then."
"Oh yes, then I saw the wee little head and I thought that this was just like birthing a calf. And I've done that before plenty 'o times. I kept on telling her to keep on pushing and the brat popped out in no time. So the woman thanked me and I've said no worries, mate, I've done it with cattle all th' time." He waved his hand grandiosely before his voice became mock- solemn. "Then th' ungrateful wench went and slapped me."
"Oh!" Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth. "But you deserved it, saying you were a doctor and all. That is fascinating. Tell me another."
"'S your turn now."
"But I haven't got any stories."
"Tell me the one again about how I got off this flea-bitten island."
"But you already know that one, and it's not a real one. Or maybe it is. I am confused."
"I like your version better."
"Oh, well then," Elizabeth looked rather pleased. "They say."
"Who say?"
"Well, all the sailors say. that you were stranded upon this here island." She thumped the beach sand for emphasis. "Whether upon you used a sharp rock to scrape the hair off your back. You then wove the locks together into strong ropes. Using these ropes, you caught dolphins and rode them off into the sunset and escaped from this place!" she concluded grandly.
Jack nodded and swayed toward her. "I liked that."
A sudden change came over Elizabeth's face, darkening the bright eyes. "Will. If we could do that, we could go save Will."
Jack steadied his hands and shook his head. When he put an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders, he seemed almost sober. "We've little hope of bringing him back 'live, love." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and Elizabeth could feel the muscles in his hand quivering where it touched her skin. "I've supposed you've read romance novels like all other young women, Elizabeth. But that's not how it all works down. Sacrilegious as it may be, consider the fact that young Mr. Turner may not be your bonny true love. Consider that there may be no such thing as true love."
His tone was light but nonetheless (perhaps it was the way the kohl was dark and black and made him look like a haunted man) Elizabeth felt unnerved. She tried to shrug it off and said lightly. "And you would know from experience, Mr. Sparrow?"
But Jack's face was turned down and the shadows marked until he looked like a wandering gypsy king. "He loves you."
"And I have not given him up for lost. I believe that I will find him. What of you?"
He responded softly, as if she wasn't there at all. "I am fond of the boy." Then Jack raised his voice louder and said with more certainty, "Aye, if the lass says he be alive, then he shall be alive!"
"And by all the treasure's in Neptune's great seas, do you swear to help me find him?"
"Aye, that I do."
Elizabeth smiled and leaned in close to Jack. Before she knew what she was doing, she pressed a quick kiss on his lips.
"Thank you, Jack."
He looked surprised but recovered remarkably quickly. "Has this mean Ms. Swann has become enamored of my rakish charms?"
Elizabeth laughed though her chest inexplicably hurt. She pursed her lips and blew him a kiss. "I suppose it is possible to fall in love with a pirate."
"Ye be warned, I've a girl at ev'ry port and harbor from the Empire to Cathay!" He responded with a wide sweeping gesture of the hands.
"You can tell me of your conquests later. But for now, shiver me timbers, it ought to get cold soon and we'll be needing of a fire." She stood up and stumbled over to a palm tree, trying to pull a branch from the ground.
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes?" She fell over, looked around for a smaller branch, and found one.
"Upon penalty of death, do not ever attempt to speak like that again. Ever. You're as bad as William."
"Oh, 'right." She had retrieved the smaller branch and was striking the larger one in hopes of starting sparks. Nothing was happening and she kept striking the wood against each other until her hands hurt.
A loud laugh from Jack. "Are you attempting to make fire? It'll take hours!"
"Yes, you either help or don't laugh!"
She went back to striking her sticks until she could feel her hands start to blister. Elizabeth stopped working to blow on her hands and relieve the pain. Surreptitiously, she watched Jack from the corner of her eye.
He was pulling out the crates that had once contained bottles of rum. He broke them apart and piled the planks together. After he had a decent-sized fire, he opened up another bottle of rum and poured it over the stack.
Elizabeth blinked, wondering if the good Captain had finally snapped.
After all, there he was, smashing his glass bottle on the rocks. She watched as he took a curved piece of glass and held it to his eye, appraising it like a jewel. Jack crouched down over his stack and held his glass piece over the wood. The sun was reflected into Elizabeth's eyes.
Looking at Jack Sparrow's dark hair and graceful hands, Elizabeth remembered now some words Will had said a while ago back in England.
He had been talking about creating a sword, about how finding the beauty in an ugly misshapen lump of silver and crafting it into a thing of delicate beauty and deadliness.
She had loved Will then for saying that though she hadn't known what it had meant. She loved Will even more now that she understood.
To her great surprise, Jack's woodpile had begun to smoke and she watched as he coaxed a flame into existence. Elizabeth hadn't realized what he doing before and was amazed even though she now knew. To be able to harness the sun's power through a piece of glass seemed like something out of a storybook.
But then, so did pirates.
"That is a flame," Jack pointed out, inordinately pleased with himself. In his excitement, he looked youthful and boyish and reminded her very much of Will.
She made a choice and a vow in that moment and her heart was less troubled.
Fall in love with a pirate, indeed.
Jack Sparrow was calling to her.
"Elizabeth, come here. There's a song I need to teach you."
Elizabeth Swann went.
Author: musexmoirai
Pairing: Elizabeth/Jack, Elizabeth/Will
Rating: PG-13
Category: Comedy
Feedback: If it's nice, that's good. If it's useful, that's better.
Disclaimer: Not mine, they're Disney's. Savvy?
Notes: Remember when Jack and Elizabeth are stranded on the island? This takes place before their bonfire bonding moment.
Summary: How did Jack ever get the fire started? Why did Elizabeth get drunk? How much does Jack know about cattle births? Where do swords, dirty seagulls, and bongos have to do with all these? And the greatest question of all: What exactly did they do on that beach?
***
The gulls were landing on the shore of the small island to roost. It was an odd place to rest but it was relatively safe considering that no humans ever set foot on it. It was an undistinguished spit of land out in the middle of the wide ocean and no one ever noticed it enough to remember it except for one.
But he was long gone and the gulls were blissfully frolicking in their insular paradise. That was until the sand kicked up on the distance, heralding the arrival of a new danger. Loud crashes could be heard coming from the underbrush, right where the foliage extended into the sand. Panicked, the seagulls fled in a flurry of wings.
A prime piece of womanflesh emerged from the shade of the palm trees and strode across the sand with all the purpose of an English bloodhound on the hunt. Her hair and clothes were in disarray but nonetheless did not disguise her lovely big-eyed, full-lipped features and gently swelling bosom that rose and fell with every breath she took.
The wiry, dark-haired man trailing behind her apparently took no notice of these womanly charms, so intent was he on the bottle of rum he held in one hand. Every once in a while, he would mutter a string of nonsense syllables and take a swig of his drink. His gold teeth glinted in the sun.
The young woman, Elizabeth Swann was her name, surveyed her landscape with a gaze venomous enough to shrivel up surrounding wildlife (but seeing as there wasn't much in the way of local flora, the effect was less impressive than one would expect). With all the grace of a lamenting Ophelia, she shuffled off the sand and into the ocean water. She tipped her head to the uncaring heavens and wailed with all the emotion of her teenaged heart. It was a long, drawn-out moan that probably began life as the word "William" but was now indecipherable.
"You keep right on doing that, love," the man behind her said dryly, "until you attract all the sharks in the Caribbean."
The banshee wailing stopped. "If you are trying to scare me, Mr. Sparrow," Elizabeth said primly. "I assure you that it is not working." But even as she said this, she backed slowly out of the water until she was standing next to him.
A small dark figure toddled over to her and earnestly began to attack her, flapping wing-like appendages. "Good God! What is this thing?"
"It's a dirty seagull," her companion replied.
She kicked at it viciously. "It looks like a rat with wings!"
Captain Jack Sparrow was lying flat on his back on the sand and trying his best to ignore her. "Is she always this high strung?" he asked himself and answered. "Perhaps it was something in the corset." Then he turned to look at Elizabeth and the assorted knickknacks in his hair clinked. "You wouldn't happen to be one of those crazy Amazonian warrior women I have heard about from.well, I suppose some harbor that I cannot recall at the moment. Because that would be inconvenient."
"You uncultured savage!" she cried in despair and booted him in the side, eliciting a soft "oof" in response. "Couldn't I have been stranded on this island with anyone else but you? Do you ever say anything of use?"
"If you've nothing else to do but kick me, you could search the island instead."
"I've already have! We've made an entire circuit around this forsaken sandpile and we're right back to where we've started, only you've been too drunk to notice!"
Jack leaned up, his eyes glittering raccoonishly in their kohl-black frames. "Why so we have!" he cried and leapt up, surprisingly nimble. "And there's the rum stash right there. And I've near run out this bottle," he headed toward the alcohol, swaying as he walked. "Our luck must be blessed, Ms. Swann."
"Everything's blessed as long as you've got your blasted drinks," she muttered under her breath and followed him.
Jack was whistling and pulling up wooden boards, his mood more cheerful than ever. He pulled up bottle after bottle of drink, assessing the value of each one. "You've got a crack in your side, won't do. Let's have a look at your year, shall we? Arrgh, needs aging." Both where gently set to the side. "Oh, you're a right beaut. Color, smell, and. ahh, taste."
"Is the indomitable Captain Sparrow actually showing affection? Wonders never do cease."
"Watch your sass, Ms. Guv'ner. It won't be long before you realize spirits are truer to you than most lovers. I treat my wine better than I treat my women."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you insinuating?"
Jack waved his hands. "Hit a hard note, eh? I'm not saying that Mr. Turner's been having indiscretions behind your back but you can never tell about these eunuchs, can you? The boy is not fully in possession of his wits. He hasn't seem to shown an interest in women." He looked surprised for a moment and flicked his fingers in her face. "Well, I could be wrong. You are a woman, aren't you?"
"You," she replied stiffly, "are giving me a headache and I've no idea what you're on about. Pass me a bottle."
"I have and you've tossed it. Awful thing to do. A man could live two days off the stuff. Milady, you have numbered our days." He waggled a finger at her.
"You are mad. Now pass me a bottle."
"Here you are." A flourish and the rum was in her hand. Jack was rummaging through the stash and something else seemed to have caught her eye. "And what have we here. hello."
Elizabeth was peering at the bottle, trying to figure out the best way to go about opening it. Then she looked up to see Jack carrying what appeared to be a drum. She almost dropped her rum in surprise.
"Is that a.drum?"
"'S a bongo. Forgot it was here." He tried out a few experimental beats.
"Ahh.yes. a bongo."
"From Africa. Care to try?"
"Why not? I've already fallen into the bowels of sin and depredation by keeping company with you. What's one more black mark on my soul?"
"That's the spirit. Here. no, you go about it like this. Too much fingers, use your palm." Bang, duh-dong bang. "Here, take a draught of the rum. There's a good girl."
The alcohol burned down Elizabeth's throat and the unfamiliar taste made her gag. She coughed and leaned her head to the side, spitting it back out.
"It's like that with most people." Jack nodded sagely. "Nothing to be ashamed about."
After she had finished coughing, she gave him a measure glance. Then she grabbed the bottle out of his hand and downed the rest of the drink.
Jack Sparrow watched her guzzle the drink and grinned wolfishly.
An hour later, there were seven empty bottles strewn around and the little bongo drum had been utterly decimated by too-enthusiastic pounding. Elizabeth was sprawled out on the shore, her dress riding high up on her thighs. Jack was straddling her hips and both of them were panting quite heavily.
"And then," he was saying through raucous laughter. "I was all thinkin' that her stomach 's big enough to hold all th' gold of Cortez." He poked Elizabeth's stomach and she squealed, barking "Ha!" into his face. Her breath reeked of rum.
"What happened then?" she wanted to know.
"Well, then, I peeked in between her legs like this." He moved to demonstrate.
"Don't you dare! And get off me!" She pushed him hard and he fell back on the sand.
"But I's a pirate," he protested, "and I'm to ravage young maidens like yourself."
"No, no, that's not an excuse. Tell me what happened then."
"Oh yes, then I saw the wee little head and I thought that this was just like birthing a calf. And I've done that before plenty 'o times. I kept on telling her to keep on pushing and the brat popped out in no time. So the woman thanked me and I've said no worries, mate, I've done it with cattle all th' time." He waved his hand grandiosely before his voice became mock- solemn. "Then th' ungrateful wench went and slapped me."
"Oh!" Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth. "But you deserved it, saying you were a doctor and all. That is fascinating. Tell me another."
"'S your turn now."
"But I haven't got any stories."
"Tell me the one again about how I got off this flea-bitten island."
"But you already know that one, and it's not a real one. Or maybe it is. I am confused."
"I like your version better."
"Oh, well then," Elizabeth looked rather pleased. "They say."
"Who say?"
"Well, all the sailors say. that you were stranded upon this here island." She thumped the beach sand for emphasis. "Whether upon you used a sharp rock to scrape the hair off your back. You then wove the locks together into strong ropes. Using these ropes, you caught dolphins and rode them off into the sunset and escaped from this place!" she concluded grandly.
Jack nodded and swayed toward her. "I liked that."
A sudden change came over Elizabeth's face, darkening the bright eyes. "Will. If we could do that, we could go save Will."
Jack steadied his hands and shook his head. When he put an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders, he seemed almost sober. "We've little hope of bringing him back 'live, love." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and Elizabeth could feel the muscles in his hand quivering where it touched her skin. "I've supposed you've read romance novels like all other young women, Elizabeth. But that's not how it all works down. Sacrilegious as it may be, consider the fact that young Mr. Turner may not be your bonny true love. Consider that there may be no such thing as true love."
His tone was light but nonetheless (perhaps it was the way the kohl was dark and black and made him look like a haunted man) Elizabeth felt unnerved. She tried to shrug it off and said lightly. "And you would know from experience, Mr. Sparrow?"
But Jack's face was turned down and the shadows marked until he looked like a wandering gypsy king. "He loves you."
"And I have not given him up for lost. I believe that I will find him. What of you?"
He responded softly, as if she wasn't there at all. "I am fond of the boy." Then Jack raised his voice louder and said with more certainty, "Aye, if the lass says he be alive, then he shall be alive!"
"And by all the treasure's in Neptune's great seas, do you swear to help me find him?"
"Aye, that I do."
Elizabeth smiled and leaned in close to Jack. Before she knew what she was doing, she pressed a quick kiss on his lips.
"Thank you, Jack."
He looked surprised but recovered remarkably quickly. "Has this mean Ms. Swann has become enamored of my rakish charms?"
Elizabeth laughed though her chest inexplicably hurt. She pursed her lips and blew him a kiss. "I suppose it is possible to fall in love with a pirate."
"Ye be warned, I've a girl at ev'ry port and harbor from the Empire to Cathay!" He responded with a wide sweeping gesture of the hands.
"You can tell me of your conquests later. But for now, shiver me timbers, it ought to get cold soon and we'll be needing of a fire." She stood up and stumbled over to a palm tree, trying to pull a branch from the ground.
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes?" She fell over, looked around for a smaller branch, and found one.
"Upon penalty of death, do not ever attempt to speak like that again. Ever. You're as bad as William."
"Oh, 'right." She had retrieved the smaller branch and was striking the larger one in hopes of starting sparks. Nothing was happening and she kept striking the wood against each other until her hands hurt.
A loud laugh from Jack. "Are you attempting to make fire? It'll take hours!"
"Yes, you either help or don't laugh!"
She went back to striking her sticks until she could feel her hands start to blister. Elizabeth stopped working to blow on her hands and relieve the pain. Surreptitiously, she watched Jack from the corner of her eye.
He was pulling out the crates that had once contained bottles of rum. He broke them apart and piled the planks together. After he had a decent-sized fire, he opened up another bottle of rum and poured it over the stack.
Elizabeth blinked, wondering if the good Captain had finally snapped.
After all, there he was, smashing his glass bottle on the rocks. She watched as he took a curved piece of glass and held it to his eye, appraising it like a jewel. Jack crouched down over his stack and held his glass piece over the wood. The sun was reflected into Elizabeth's eyes.
Looking at Jack Sparrow's dark hair and graceful hands, Elizabeth remembered now some words Will had said a while ago back in England.
He had been talking about creating a sword, about how finding the beauty in an ugly misshapen lump of silver and crafting it into a thing of delicate beauty and deadliness.
She had loved Will then for saying that though she hadn't known what it had meant. She loved Will even more now that she understood.
To her great surprise, Jack's woodpile had begun to smoke and she watched as he coaxed a flame into existence. Elizabeth hadn't realized what he doing before and was amazed even though she now knew. To be able to harness the sun's power through a piece of glass seemed like something out of a storybook.
But then, so did pirates.
"That is a flame," Jack pointed out, inordinately pleased with himself. In his excitement, he looked youthful and boyish and reminded her very much of Will.
She made a choice and a vow in that moment and her heart was less troubled.
Fall in love with a pirate, indeed.
Jack Sparrow was calling to her.
"Elizabeth, come here. There's a song I need to teach you."
Elizabeth Swann went.