Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Jack's new compass and all their cloths
in this story. Huh! If it weren't for me they would all be naked.. Oh wait,
maybe that could be a good thing. Anyway, Disney owns all.
Thank you for all my reviews, keep them coming and I will send everyone extra cool invisible cupcakes to eat while you read my story. (What do you mean you don't' believe me?)
(JACK FAN2: Your reviews are awesome!! You definitely get a piece of Jack's hat when I buy it of Disney. And don't worry, I have blonde days all the time, which you think would be hard me being a brunette, but it's totally not. Thank you for your reviews, and for the bows hehe. But you should definitely post a fic. Mindless drabble is good, it's what I do! Do it! Just write it, and see where it takes you.)
I was right, when I said this fic would be darker right? It's my thoughts about changes in relationships that have to occur over time. The next update might be a little slow, sorry. Evil study. * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jack emerged on deck, a new flash compass in his hand, and a new feather in his hat. Ana-Maria gave him a small nod, before turning back to her job of nailing part of the railing together that had been damaged during the last battle. Gibbs walked over to Jack, his greasy hair sticking to his smiling face.
"Where to captain?" He asked.
Jack paused, consulting his compass momentarily, a silent debate going on in his head. They had riches enough in their hoard, he thought, to keep them rich and prosperous for years to come, thanks to Barbossa's motley crew. Time to take a little holiday.
"To Port Royal." He said slowly, savouring the words. He tilted his head, staring at Ana-Maria. "Got to have a talk to Will." He shook his head. "Tell the crew, Gibbs." He said, clapping the old mans back. He bound up to the wheel, grinning with anticipation.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Not that getting a whole pirate ship into Port Royal is easy, but Jack Sparrow tends to have good winds behind his sails wherever he goes, in all aspects of his life. So it happened that he managed to let his entire crew dock and go for shore leave without much a to-do.
He stepped cautiously down the alley behind Will and Elizabeth's house, running his hand over the earthen yellow walls and the window frames. He halted under a windowsill, peeping his head up through the pot plants to look in on the scene of the house.
Elizabeth was in the kitchen, singing softly to herself, mixing dough in a wooden bowl. Her hair was half undone, spilling down her back, and she was dressed in her night cloths. Her thrown on dressing gown was dangerously open, revealing the soft pinkish skin underneath.
Jack Sparrow grinned. Elizabeth turned, as if on que, and saw his grinning face at the window. She shrieked, the bowl flying up in the air, its contents spilling all over her. Jack pulled himself up on the window ledge, knocking a flowerpot into the kitchen and tumbled into the room after it.
Elizabeth leant against the stove, her hand on her heart.
"Jack!" She gasped dramatically.
"I'm sorry lass if I gave you a bit of a fright." He said with an elaborate hand flourish. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, bending to pick up the bowl and spoon. "Just thought I'd pay a bit of a visit to Port Royal, and have a word with the two of ya."
"That's alright, Jack." Elizabeth said, wiping the flour and dough of her face. "You just scared me, is all. You should have warned us you were coming." Jack shook his head disagreeing. He leant forward, and pulled at a clump of dough that rested near her cheek. She leant into his hand almost automatically, and a flash of confusion past in Jack's eyes. Then he pulled the dough off her face, and stuck it into his mouth, his fingers pushing two far in to his mouth be refined.
"If I'd warned ya," He said, turning to the look around the kitchen. He started opening draws and cupboards. "If I'd warn ya, you'd have worried about Norrington finding me out, and you two would have gone to so much trouble that Norrington would have known I was coming two weeks before I did." He said, licking his lips at the remained dough.
He looked around wildly, pulling out the pots and pans, reaching for the back of the cupboard, but came up empty. He ran his hand over the top of the pantry, his face wracked with concentration.
"Jack! Jack, stop." She said, grabbing his hands, and stopping his search. "What are you looking for? If it's rum, we've got none in the house." She said sternly.
"Well, ain't that a shame?" Jack replied, flashing her his yellowing teeth. He pushed himself up on the kitchen counter, while Elizabeth busied herself with remaking the mixture of whatever she had been cooking. "I was actually looking for the cookie jar." He said finally.
"The cookie jar?" Elizabeth asked, spinning around. "What do you want with the cookie jar?"
"What do all men want with the cookie jar?" Jack said, lowering his eyebrows and leering at her. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the suggestiveness of his manner. "A cookie." He finished simply, bored, gazing around the kitchen. Elizabeth snorted.
She didn't know if he was joking or if he was serious. She reached up on tipy toes to pull the cookie jar out of the cupboard, even though she was tall, it was the only place where Will wouldn't find it.
"So where is he?" Jack said finally. Elizabeth passed him a cookie and gave him a quizzical look.
"Who? Will? He'd at the blacksmiths, where he works." Jack waved a hand.
"No, the little one. The baby. Will said you were eight months pregnant in his last letter, so where is the little on? Unless your still pregnant." He gave her a suspicious look. "Unlikely but.." He paused. Elizabeth wiped her hands on her green dress.
"Um, Jack," She started, but Jack wasn't listening he cut her off.
"I know, you wanted to apologise for not naming him after me." He grinned. "I suppose he's upstairs sleeping. No need to wake him." He said, popping the last bite of the cookie in his mouth. He wiped his hands down his pants. "Now what'd you say about that rum?" He asked. Elizabeth forced a smile.
"Here," She said, pulling a bottle out which was hidden behind the pots and pans. She poured a small bit of vodka into the bottom of her wine glasses. Jack picked his up grimacing.
"Never loved the clear stuff." He grimaced. He clinked glasses with her. "What shall we drink to?" He asked, licking his lips with anticipation. Elizabeth paused, looking a little sad. She watched the swirling clear liquid and shrugged.
"To clear skies," She said.
"Aye, and smooth sailing." Jack finished, and skulled the vodka with a theatrical tilt of the head. Elizabeth followed suit, gulping hers more gracefully and grimacing at the burn of the warm fluid down her throat.
Outside, the gulls circled overhead, their greedy eyes watching the town with a growing disinterest. Their calls could be heard through the little house, and the wind carried a smell of salt and of the blissfully cool water.
"Right luv, where's the bathroom?" Jack said politely, kicking his heels on the kitchen bench. Elizabeth covered her mouth, still dealing with the aftermath of the vodka, and pointed towards the bathroom.
Jack ran his hands over his face, casting on last look at the blonde haired beauty in the kitchen. He shook his head sadly, and pushed open the bathroom door. He whistled lowly through his teeth. This place was like a palace. White towels and a huge marble bath with the water spurting out of a little fish head. Jack poked the fish head suspiciously, and then turned his attention to his reflection.
Three years had passed since he'd reclaimed the pearl. Three years where they'd prospered and plundered. What was that saying? They'd taken all they could and given nothing back.
For so long, all he thought he'd ever need was rum, gold and wenches. Now, he wasn't so sure. He was older, that's for sure, though the change was not apparent on his skin, or in his movement. But was in his eye, and in his heart.
Now, there were other important things to him. Like Will, and Elizabeth, and their trust. The love of his crew around him, the det he owed them for saving his life. Blood and death were also on his mind of late. He'd seen the way Barbossa had almost relished his death, the glint of satisfaction in those eyes. How long till every pirate pushes it that one step too far, succumbs to their curiosity? It's said that ever pirate has a death wish, and Jack was worried about when that would come true.
They also say that worry comes hand in hand with love, of all kinds.
There was the Pearl, always the Pearl.
Maybe it had started with her, this change in his priorities. His beautiful sculpted ship and the way she rode up and down on the waves. The way he could place his hand on her beautiful helm, his fingers curled around her protectively, the way her hair fluttered backwards as she rose above his, her lips slightly parted, her black skin flushed..
"Oh bloody hell." Jack muttered. "Bloody wench." He shook his head wearily at himself. He ran his hands under the water, running his wet fingers down his beard and smoothing stray hairs back behind his ear. Then he froze, as he heard voices from the kitchen.
"Elizabeth, I really must protest, you sit here all day like the lights gone out in your world with not a care for your young husband..." Jack pressed his ear to the patterned glass door of the bathroom, contorting his face with concentration.
"Father, I don't want to talk about this.." Elizabeth said sternly, in a voice that made it clear she'd had this argument with her father before. Jack pulled a face.
"I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to talk about it." Jack mimicked. "Bloody woman. If you don't want to talk about it bloody well stop moaning!" He barked angrily, and then started, realising his position. He pulled an apologetic face, remembering he was in Elizabeth's bathroom, and technically there was a tiny, little, itsy bitsy price on his head.
"Elizabeth is there someone in your bathroom?" Governor Swann asked. Elizabeth's eyes darted furtively. Her father raised his eyebrows so that they disappeared inside his wig. He strode over to pull open the bathroom door with Elizabeth on his heels.
"No, father, of course I don't have someone in the bathroom, are you joking?" Elizabeth said quickly, pressing her back to the door. Her father pulled a stern face.
"Step away from the door."
"Father, I'm not a child.."
"Elizabeth." He said, and she responded, almost childishly, stepping away from the door. The governor pulled open the door, and peering into the bathroom. Elizabeth followed suite. There was no one there.
"What was all that about, darling?" Elizabeth's father asked her, shaking her shoulders slightly. He put his arm around his frail daughter, leading her back to the kitchen, feeling rather affectionate towards the girl. "Thought you might be hiding pirates in there.." He joked, and Elizabeth smiled faintly.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Thank you for all my reviews, keep them coming and I will send everyone extra cool invisible cupcakes to eat while you read my story. (What do you mean you don't' believe me?)
(JACK FAN2: Your reviews are awesome!! You definitely get a piece of Jack's hat when I buy it of Disney. And don't worry, I have blonde days all the time, which you think would be hard me being a brunette, but it's totally not. Thank you for your reviews, and for the bows hehe. But you should definitely post a fic. Mindless drabble is good, it's what I do! Do it! Just write it, and see where it takes you.)
I was right, when I said this fic would be darker right? It's my thoughts about changes in relationships that have to occur over time. The next update might be a little slow, sorry. Evil study. * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jack emerged on deck, a new flash compass in his hand, and a new feather in his hat. Ana-Maria gave him a small nod, before turning back to her job of nailing part of the railing together that had been damaged during the last battle. Gibbs walked over to Jack, his greasy hair sticking to his smiling face.
"Where to captain?" He asked.
Jack paused, consulting his compass momentarily, a silent debate going on in his head. They had riches enough in their hoard, he thought, to keep them rich and prosperous for years to come, thanks to Barbossa's motley crew. Time to take a little holiday.
"To Port Royal." He said slowly, savouring the words. He tilted his head, staring at Ana-Maria. "Got to have a talk to Will." He shook his head. "Tell the crew, Gibbs." He said, clapping the old mans back. He bound up to the wheel, grinning with anticipation.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Not that getting a whole pirate ship into Port Royal is easy, but Jack Sparrow tends to have good winds behind his sails wherever he goes, in all aspects of his life. So it happened that he managed to let his entire crew dock and go for shore leave without much a to-do.
He stepped cautiously down the alley behind Will and Elizabeth's house, running his hand over the earthen yellow walls and the window frames. He halted under a windowsill, peeping his head up through the pot plants to look in on the scene of the house.
Elizabeth was in the kitchen, singing softly to herself, mixing dough in a wooden bowl. Her hair was half undone, spilling down her back, and she was dressed in her night cloths. Her thrown on dressing gown was dangerously open, revealing the soft pinkish skin underneath.
Jack Sparrow grinned. Elizabeth turned, as if on que, and saw his grinning face at the window. She shrieked, the bowl flying up in the air, its contents spilling all over her. Jack pulled himself up on the window ledge, knocking a flowerpot into the kitchen and tumbled into the room after it.
Elizabeth leant against the stove, her hand on her heart.
"Jack!" She gasped dramatically.
"I'm sorry lass if I gave you a bit of a fright." He said with an elaborate hand flourish. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, bending to pick up the bowl and spoon. "Just thought I'd pay a bit of a visit to Port Royal, and have a word with the two of ya."
"That's alright, Jack." Elizabeth said, wiping the flour and dough of her face. "You just scared me, is all. You should have warned us you were coming." Jack shook his head disagreeing. He leant forward, and pulled at a clump of dough that rested near her cheek. She leant into his hand almost automatically, and a flash of confusion past in Jack's eyes. Then he pulled the dough off her face, and stuck it into his mouth, his fingers pushing two far in to his mouth be refined.
"If I'd warned ya," He said, turning to the look around the kitchen. He started opening draws and cupboards. "If I'd warn ya, you'd have worried about Norrington finding me out, and you two would have gone to so much trouble that Norrington would have known I was coming two weeks before I did." He said, licking his lips at the remained dough.
He looked around wildly, pulling out the pots and pans, reaching for the back of the cupboard, but came up empty. He ran his hand over the top of the pantry, his face wracked with concentration.
"Jack! Jack, stop." She said, grabbing his hands, and stopping his search. "What are you looking for? If it's rum, we've got none in the house." She said sternly.
"Well, ain't that a shame?" Jack replied, flashing her his yellowing teeth. He pushed himself up on the kitchen counter, while Elizabeth busied herself with remaking the mixture of whatever she had been cooking. "I was actually looking for the cookie jar." He said finally.
"The cookie jar?" Elizabeth asked, spinning around. "What do you want with the cookie jar?"
"What do all men want with the cookie jar?" Jack said, lowering his eyebrows and leering at her. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the suggestiveness of his manner. "A cookie." He finished simply, bored, gazing around the kitchen. Elizabeth snorted.
She didn't know if he was joking or if he was serious. She reached up on tipy toes to pull the cookie jar out of the cupboard, even though she was tall, it was the only place where Will wouldn't find it.
"So where is he?" Jack said finally. Elizabeth passed him a cookie and gave him a quizzical look.
"Who? Will? He'd at the blacksmiths, where he works." Jack waved a hand.
"No, the little one. The baby. Will said you were eight months pregnant in his last letter, so where is the little on? Unless your still pregnant." He gave her a suspicious look. "Unlikely but.." He paused. Elizabeth wiped her hands on her green dress.
"Um, Jack," She started, but Jack wasn't listening he cut her off.
"I know, you wanted to apologise for not naming him after me." He grinned. "I suppose he's upstairs sleeping. No need to wake him." He said, popping the last bite of the cookie in his mouth. He wiped his hands down his pants. "Now what'd you say about that rum?" He asked. Elizabeth forced a smile.
"Here," She said, pulling a bottle out which was hidden behind the pots and pans. She poured a small bit of vodka into the bottom of her wine glasses. Jack picked his up grimacing.
"Never loved the clear stuff." He grimaced. He clinked glasses with her. "What shall we drink to?" He asked, licking his lips with anticipation. Elizabeth paused, looking a little sad. She watched the swirling clear liquid and shrugged.
"To clear skies," She said.
"Aye, and smooth sailing." Jack finished, and skulled the vodka with a theatrical tilt of the head. Elizabeth followed suit, gulping hers more gracefully and grimacing at the burn of the warm fluid down her throat.
Outside, the gulls circled overhead, their greedy eyes watching the town with a growing disinterest. Their calls could be heard through the little house, and the wind carried a smell of salt and of the blissfully cool water.
"Right luv, where's the bathroom?" Jack said politely, kicking his heels on the kitchen bench. Elizabeth covered her mouth, still dealing with the aftermath of the vodka, and pointed towards the bathroom.
Jack ran his hands over his face, casting on last look at the blonde haired beauty in the kitchen. He shook his head sadly, and pushed open the bathroom door. He whistled lowly through his teeth. This place was like a palace. White towels and a huge marble bath with the water spurting out of a little fish head. Jack poked the fish head suspiciously, and then turned his attention to his reflection.
Three years had passed since he'd reclaimed the pearl. Three years where they'd prospered and plundered. What was that saying? They'd taken all they could and given nothing back.
For so long, all he thought he'd ever need was rum, gold and wenches. Now, he wasn't so sure. He was older, that's for sure, though the change was not apparent on his skin, or in his movement. But was in his eye, and in his heart.
Now, there were other important things to him. Like Will, and Elizabeth, and their trust. The love of his crew around him, the det he owed them for saving his life. Blood and death were also on his mind of late. He'd seen the way Barbossa had almost relished his death, the glint of satisfaction in those eyes. How long till every pirate pushes it that one step too far, succumbs to their curiosity? It's said that ever pirate has a death wish, and Jack was worried about when that would come true.
They also say that worry comes hand in hand with love, of all kinds.
There was the Pearl, always the Pearl.
Maybe it had started with her, this change in his priorities. His beautiful sculpted ship and the way she rode up and down on the waves. The way he could place his hand on her beautiful helm, his fingers curled around her protectively, the way her hair fluttered backwards as she rose above his, her lips slightly parted, her black skin flushed..
"Oh bloody hell." Jack muttered. "Bloody wench." He shook his head wearily at himself. He ran his hands under the water, running his wet fingers down his beard and smoothing stray hairs back behind his ear. Then he froze, as he heard voices from the kitchen.
"Elizabeth, I really must protest, you sit here all day like the lights gone out in your world with not a care for your young husband..." Jack pressed his ear to the patterned glass door of the bathroom, contorting his face with concentration.
"Father, I don't want to talk about this.." Elizabeth said sternly, in a voice that made it clear she'd had this argument with her father before. Jack pulled a face.
"I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to talk about it." Jack mimicked. "Bloody woman. If you don't want to talk about it bloody well stop moaning!" He barked angrily, and then started, realising his position. He pulled an apologetic face, remembering he was in Elizabeth's bathroom, and technically there was a tiny, little, itsy bitsy price on his head.
"Elizabeth is there someone in your bathroom?" Governor Swann asked. Elizabeth's eyes darted furtively. Her father raised his eyebrows so that they disappeared inside his wig. He strode over to pull open the bathroom door with Elizabeth on his heels.
"No, father, of course I don't have someone in the bathroom, are you joking?" Elizabeth said quickly, pressing her back to the door. Her father pulled a stern face.
"Step away from the door."
"Father, I'm not a child.."
"Elizabeth." He said, and she responded, almost childishly, stepping away from the door. The governor pulled open the door, and peering into the bathroom. Elizabeth followed suite. There was no one there.
"What was all that about, darling?" Elizabeth's father asked her, shaking her shoulders slightly. He put his arm around his frail daughter, leading her back to the kitchen, feeling rather affectionate towards the girl. "Thought you might be hiding pirates in there.." He joked, and Elizabeth smiled faintly.
* * * * * * * * * * * *