Summary: "Her hands found purchase in, ironically, the line she had been hoping to retie when she'd originally slipped. It went taut as her weight pulled it down, the knot slipping looser." Elizabeth is in need of assistance and, naturally, Jack doesn't offer any. One-shot. Post AWE. Mentions of Willabeth and hints of Sparrabeth.
Prompt: You're trying to act casual in a very precarious situation
Assistance Denied
When Captain Sparrow strode out on deck, the first abnormal thing he spotted was not the one-eyed pirate hanging upside down from the crossbeam that held up the bottommost sail of the mainmast, but the young woman precariously creeping out onto the Pearl's bowsprit to retie a line. She'd never actually properly worked under his orders before. She usually dawdled over her thoughts and sorrows, staring over the starboard railing at the endless waves of the Caribbean waters. And, yet, here she was- working.
It was curious, really.
But it also meant that something wasn't right.
"Oi, love! What're ye doin'?" He called over to her.
He wasn't sure whether he should wince or laugh when she jumped so hard that she lost her balance. She managed to grasp onto the wooden beam of the bowsprit, wrapping herself around it so that she would not fall in the water below her. She glared daggers at him.
He made his way over to the front of the ship, putting up an amused facade. "Need help there, Lizzie?"
"You've helped me enough, thanks, Jack." She hissed at him.
Jack merely shrugged in response. "Nice day for a swim anyway, love. Holler for me when ye see the sharks."
He turned to leave.
"You can't just walk away!" Elizabeth snapped after him.
He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in light mocking. "What do ye want me to do, help ye?"
"When I get my hands on you, I'll-"
"Ye'll what? Throw me overboard? I can swim better than anyone. Leave me to a bloody Kraken? It's dead. Burn the rum? Ye'll be locked in the brig forever. Ye can't beat me, love."
She huffed in evident frustration, but her lack of words indicated that she had no counterargument.
"Now, so long as ye're jus' hangin' there, might as well strike up a conversation, eh?" He suggested unhelpfully. He paused, waiting for an answer he never got. "Why're ye workin', love? Ye never do, even when I ask ye to."
"Because I want to."
"We both know ye're lyin', Lizzie. Ye can't hide anythin' from me."
Elizabeth tried to heave herself into a better position, but gasped when she slipped down farther instead. Her hands found purchase in, ironically, the line she had been hoping to retie when she'd originally slipped. It went taut as her weight pulled it down, the knot slipping looser. Jack's eyebrows rose at her pointedly, another reminder that he was there and had indeed offered to aid her back up to the solid planks of the deck.
"Why do you think I'm trying to be useful, then?" She demanded cooly, a hint of the familiar flame growing within her at his disregard to keep out of her affairs.
It was obvious, really. Not that she knew that.
"Ye need a distraction, from thinkin' 'bout William." He boldly claimed. "There's nothin' ye can do for 'im, love. He's cursed. He's lucky to be alive at all.
She stared at him.
Jack continued on. "Ye think the way to distract yourself from it is to help the crew in their daily duties. It's not. But I can help ye."
"You and your big ego." She scoffed, unimpressed.
"I'm serious."
"Yes, Jack, I'm so certain that you are."
"Am I not distractin'?"
Elizabeth's face flushed red and she averted her gaze.
He smirked.
"Can you help me up?" She asked hopefully, straining to keep her hold on the ship. "This is starting to become more than a little uncomfortable."
"Sorry, love, I am not fallin' for that one. I don't plan on swimmin' today. 'Sides, I've helped ye enough, haven't I?"
With a smug grin to himself, he turned and headed back for his cabin. He heard a splash behind him as the line slipped free from the loose knot, dropping her into the water.