Usual disclaimers: If you recognise anything, it belongs to Disney, else it is mine.
Usual thanks: Thanks to Pendragginink for being my beta and for trying to make my English correct!
Chapter 26– Alain Peters
Mab and Jack were only half way through their meal when she noticed a large, balding pirate walking over to them. Wiping his brow, he quickly replaced his hat despite the stifling heat within the bar.
Mab nudged Jack with her knee and he looked up, sighing at the imminent interruption as he recognised the man. "Alain!" he called in greeting as the pirate continued towards them. "Good ter see yer again. I heard you'd escaped from Port Royal!"
"Jack!" the man beamed. "Aye, although it was a close shave! But yer can't beat a loyal crew… an' a good woman with a pistol…" He turned and looked straight at Mab, his eyes questioning.
"No, indeed yer can't," Jack agreed. "Mab, this is Alain Peters, captain of the Camille. He's half-French, but don't hold that against him…"
"Only if you say so," she smiled, nodding cautiously to the man.
"So how is our dear Norrington?" Jack enquired through a mouthful of venison, frowning as the other captain pulled up a stool and sat down at their table without invitation.
"Sadly alive, the last I saw of him… although he was foaming at the mouth a bit…" Alain reminisced, smiling at the memory.
"Oh good," Jack grinned. "Nothin' pleases me more." Ever since the Commodore had insisted on hanging him despite his assistance in rescuing Elizabeth, the Governor's daughter, Jack had made it his special purpose in life to rile the naval officer at every opportunity.
"Managed ter thin his ranks of officers a bit though," Alain chuckled, wondering why Jack's companion seemed to pale at his words.
"Good man!" Jack raised his mug in toast, not noticing Mab's distraction.
"I… I was wonderin' if yer had any cannons fer sale?" Alain asked hesitantly, remembering that he already owed Jack money and wondering if the other pirate would recall the debt. Somehow, he did not think Jack Sparrow was the forgetful type, but with a beautiful woman at his side, he thought it worth a chance. "I heard yer took some off a Spanish ship a while back…"
"As a matter of fact…" Jack grinned. "Why don't yer come by th' Pearl tomorrow an' we'll see what we can sort out, eh?" he offered, smiling genially whilst wondering why Alain's interest in weapons sat uneasy with him.
"I'll do that," he nodded, looking again in askance at Mab.. "I don't recognise yer woman – is she new about town?" His voice raised in hopeful expectation that she was a whore for he had never seen a woman in Jack's company who was not.
"Aye," Jack nodded, refusing to be drawn further. "An' she's my woman, savvy?"
"Ah!" Alain rose, turning to leave. "For now you mean." He winked lewdly at Mab. "I'll see you when your taste recovers…"
"Cacchio," Mab snorted as he left, but Jack rose, his hand automatically settling on the hilt of his sword. (Trans: Prick)
"Mab is not a whore!" he spat angrily. "An' if you know what's good fer you, you'll apologise now!"
"Jack!" she protested, looking in surprise at his actions, but not half as surprised as Alain who turned sharply at Jack's words. Noise within the inn stilled, faces turned in expectation of a fight.
"Never said she was," he protested, holding up his hands in an attempt to fend off Jack's anger. "Ease off, Jack… yer not even drunk yet!"
"You implied it," Jack growled, his hand slowly moving off the hilt. "Now apologise to her!" he demanded.
"I am sorry, mademoiselle," Alain smiled, removing his hat with a flourish as he bowed to her. "May your taste in men improve soon…"
"An' you can forget about doin' a deal," Jack growled at him. "Yer still owe me for th' powder from two years back if I remember rightly too!" he retorted, finally recalling their previous dealings.
"Ah, Jack… she's really got yer by th' balls if yer can't even take a joke no more!" He headed back towards the table. "Now, what are yer drinking?" Jack glowered, ignoring the fellow patrons who shook their heads in disappointment as it became clear that the two captains were not about to come to blows. "That bad, eh?" Alain chortled. "Should I find yer a weddin' present now or later?"
"Shut it, Peters!" Jack snapped. "An' it's two rums!"
"Cheap weddin' present," Alain chuckled, heading to the bar. Jack sat back down, still glaring at the back of Alain Peters.
"Jack, do not rise to his baiting," Mab smiled, kissing him on the cheek.
"I can't help it," he sighed. "He always manages ter have that effect on me… two minutes of his company an' I'm wanting t' kill him! An' he does still owe me fer that powder!" Mab slid her hand beneath the table, running her fingers along his thigh. "An' I forget you have this effect on me," Jack chuckled, returning the kiss on her cheek as his mood lightened. "Thanks, luv."
"You are welcome," she smiled, kissing his lips.
"I'll show you just how grateful I am later," he murmured as Alain Peters returned with a tray and three mugs.
"Break it up," Alain cautioned. "They've rooms upstairs fer that kind of stuff!"
"Aye, an' we've already got one booked," Jack taunted.
"Sì, and it is Jack I will be leaving with later," Mab retorted.
Alain shook his head. "There's no hope fer yer Jack, he sighed. "Yer clean, yer've got a 'good' woman… what's next?" He supped his rum.
"I might get payment from you," Jack sniped.
"Oh, yes… yer right about th' powder. I forgot." He placed a heavy purse on the table, pushing it across to Jack who arched an eyebrow, at a loss for words. "An' I'll pay fer th' cannons on delivery," he assured his fellow captain.
"Bloody hell, what did yer do? Rob th' Governor's mansion?" Jack spluttered in disbelief.
"That's fer me t' know an' fer yer t' worry about," Alain chuckled. "An' if I can rob that place, then nothing's safe!" His gaze turned once more to Mab as she drank her rum.
"Aye," Jack nodded, placing a possessive arm about Mab's shoulders as he drained his mug. "Come on young lady, I need my beauty sleep," he winked.
"Afraid I'll woo her away from yer, eh?" Alain teased.
"Not a cat-in-hell's chance," Jack snorted.
"Especially if you are French," Mab retorted, rising with Jack.
"Half-French, my dear… an' only th' part that matters!" he assured her.
"Aye, yer gob!" Jack laughed, taking Mab's hand and leading her towards the stairs. "G'night, Peters! Sweet dreams!"
"Goodnight m' dear," Alain said, standing and bowing towards Mab. "I'll see yer t'morrow, Jack!"
"Aye, but not too early, eh?" Jack agreed.
"An' there yer was telling me yer were an' early riser," Alain taunted, sitting down in the now vacated booth.
"Not lately," Jack called back over his shoulder. "Most definitely not lately…"
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"M' apologies about Alain," Jack offered as he unlocked the door to their room, eagerly ushering Mab inside. "I would say you'll get used to him, but I don't intend t' have him around yer that much… he likes t' think he is a ladies' man…" He was pleased to see that the bath had been removed and the floor had been dried. A number of beeswax lamps had been lit in the room and it looked warm and inviting… not that it needed to be more inviting. The large four poster bed was all that he was interested in – that and Mab.
"Have no fear," Mab teased, turning towards him and reaching for his shirt. "I like my men younger than him… and slimmer," she chuckled as he struggled to take his boots off.
"I must be in luck then," Jack remarked, kicking his heavy boots across the room before reaching behind him to lock the door. He removed his sword belt and sash before wrapping his arms about her, his fingers making short work of the fastenings of her dress. With a rustle, it slid to the floor.
"You must be," she smiled slipping his shirt from his shoulders as she stepped out of the burgundy fabric puddled at her feet.
"I'm going t' have ter get used t' fightin' m' way to yer body," Jack muttered to himself, unbuttoning her undershift before turning his attention to her undergarments. "I think I preferred yer indecent," he declared dryly as he struggled to remove them.
"I thought I already was," she replied dryly, tugging his buttons undone.
"Aye, now yer are," he husked as she slid his breeches past his hips and for a moment he wrapped his arms about her, holding her to him. He cursed himself for becoming fond of her, too fond in a way if his reaction to Alain's taunts were any guide, and regretted their argument earlier in the day, vowing to be more considerate in future. He pressed his nose against her hair, inhaling deeply before, almost reluctantly, he released her. "Now get yer sweet little backside to that bed," he growled.
Mab grinned and turned, dashing across to the large bed, determined to beat him to it – but she did not. She laughed with delight as he tackled her, throwing her across the blankets.
"Too slow," he accused, rubbing himself against her, savouring the feel of her bare flesh against his. His teeth marked her shoulder as he bit sharply.
"Ow!" Mab protested, wriggling round to face him only to find his lips pushed against hers. Jack's tongue pressed between her lips, roving her mouth hungrily. "Jack…" Mab groaned, returning his kisses eagerly.
"D' yer want me?" he chuckled. "Do yer?"
"Sì…" Mab gasped. "Per favore, Jack… per favore!"
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"Mab…" he gasped, shakily collapsing beside her and pulling her towards him.
"Sì?" she smiled, looking across at him.
"I was right in Tortuga when I said we should do this more often!" He kissed her on the forehead, still shaking and not just from their love-making. Mab had only been on board a few weeks but already he was beginning not to want to let her go, his acknowledgement of his need for her shocking him. "I'm goin' ter book a room every chance we get," he vowed, wondering if there was any way that he could tempt her to stay with him.
"I will look forward to it," she smiled, snuggling against him, unaware of his thoughts.
"So will I," Jack assured her, his mind already plotting routes and sailing times that would allow him to spend as much time as possible with her whilst still keeping the crew happy with plunder. "So will I."
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