Written for three different challenges:
1. Black Pearl Sails Drabble Challenge for the week: Breath or Breathing
2. Fabu's Chinese Menu Challenge: One from Column A: a storm at sea—Two from Column B: Jack and Elizabeth—Three from Column C: ship, a jar of pleasantly scented oil, and pie.
3. Drabble/Ficlet Request Meme: For Miya Sparrow, who requested Jack/Pearl.
o-o Heavenscent o-oThere was something odd about the light.
Jack stirred, and reluctantly submitted to waking. He took a deep, slow breath and could not stop the smile that tipped the corners of his mouth at the combined scents that teased him: vanilla and coconut (that jar of heaven-scented oil had rarely seen such heavenly use); Elizabeth (heaven-scented herself, truly); and the sea's breath, lightly gusting through the window they'd left partially open.
Faint shipboard activity could be heard, and the Pearl's sounds coalesced, tugging at him.
Elizabeth's head lay heavy on his shoulder, her arm across his chest, her knee between his, her body warm all along his side.
Heaven.
Even if his arm was asleep.
Another waft of sea air, and he breathed deep again. Time to get up.
He opened his eyes. Hair the color of antique gold spread curling over her. Beautiful, though thankfully not long enough to hide other beauties: the dip of trim waist; the perfection of that rounded backside (had he put that mark there?); the strong, slender legs, the elegant ankles and fine-boned, pink feet. All of them delicious. A feast for the senses.
Heaven.
The breeze gusted again, more demandingly, and the Pearl sang in response. He turned his head: the light was odd, casting beams over the floor, making the tarnished tray and the crumbs from the half-eaten pasties glow like treasure.
So that was it.
All right.
"'Liz'beth?" he said softly. He stroked her smooth cheek very lightly with one calloused finger.
She stirred against him. Opened her eyes (wonderful! And calm, now. A wave of remembrance and satisfaction washed through him). Moved her head, so she could see him, her lips curving.
He said, gently, "Pearl's calling me, love. Have to get up."
She pouted and curled into him, but then looked around, and saw what was happening, heard the faint but boding resonance.
She looked at him again. "A storm?"
"Aye. Another one."
She smiled at that. Her hand drifted over his chest. "I'll come too, shall I?"
It occurred to him that, unthinkable as he'd considered it, his Pearl had a rival here. Or a match, maybe. A happiness too deep for words or smiles, in any case. So he said only, "I'd like that," and kissed her, just once more.
Always just once more.
o-o-o
