Thanks once more to those who reviewed! I am utterly delighted at the response this is getting. For those of you that aren't slash fans (slash mean sexual relations between two men) but are reading anyway, now would be the time to stop. I'm giving you ample warning, so I'd appreciate it if I don't get any negative emails about it. It isn't very blatant in this chapter, but the next one will possibly get to the point where I have to begin censoring. For those who are all for the censored bits, an uncut version will be posted on the PiratesoftheCaribbean_Slash yahoo group, and pooossssiiibbbbly adultfanfiction.net, if I decide to begin posting there as well. Thanks to those who have read up 'till now, and more thanks to those who plan to continue reading!
***
Capitan Henry Booth was short but incredibly thick, with a low drowning voice and an accent that sounded vaguely German. Jack approached him jovially, slumped and graceful, not towering over him like he could with even taller men. Will stood at Jack's back, making sure none of the men tried anything funny—or not funny, as was the case.
"'Allo," Jack said cheerfully.
"Your conditions," Booth growled.
Jack dropped the cordial act and straightened, suddenly a confident, no-nonsense leader. "Take what you want of my stocks, leave enough for me and the boy to eat and drink to Nassau… as well as all of the alcohol."
"How about we take everything, break your masts, and leave you and the boy to die."
There was a pause during which Jack thought about that. "No—I rather prefer my conditions."
Booth laughed the laugh of someone trying to intimidate, and a moment later the crew joined obediently. When they quieted enough to be heard, Booth said, "and pray tell, what's to stop me from carrying out mine?"
"Me and the boy," Jack said, slimy grin audible in his voice.
"And," Booth said, "who are you and the boy that should worry me?"
"Thought you'd never ask, mate. The boy here is the twinkle in the eye of one Bootstrap Bill Turner. Takes after him, if I do say so. And I…" he took a swaying step forward, indicating himself with a flourish of a hand, "am Capitan Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"
Booth paled. The crew, who had previously leering at Will, took a step back and collectively began commenting on the weather.
"Fine," Booth said, voice a tad hoarse. "Your conditions—save for the alcohol."
"You'll have ten percent," Jack said.
"Forty, and you and the boy stay aboard the Widow's Sorrow through the night. My men could use a good tale or two."
Jack nodded, his entire upper body included in the motion, and the two captains shook. The crew rushed off to loot Jack's borrowed ship while Jack watched, absently wiping his hand on his coat.
"For all you say it," Will muttered when no one else was in hearing range, "one might think your middle name was Sparrow, and your last Savvy."
Jack smiled and said nothing.
***
The Widow's Sorrow, it turned out, was well stocked with women. Few of them were widows, and none of them were sorrowful. They weren't the unsavory types that came dressed as pirates, Jack assured Will, but genuine, wholesome Tortuga harlots. That night while Jack regaled the crew with countless tales of his adventures—mainly fabricated, Will surmised—he had a steady stream of women fawning over him. At any given time he seemed to have one on each knee, two or three doting over him, and any number of others queued up for the next available space. It made it quite impossible for Will to be anywhere near the man.
Will had never been apt at reveling with strangers. During his short time as a privateer he had been one of the crew, easily accepted, but here he was unknown, living off a borrowed reputation, with none of Jack's easy charm. Now he felt that he should be at Jack's arm, nobly keeping watch for nefarious activity among the men, but he could hardly contend with the whores for space. He ended up standing alone in the best shadow he could find, quietly brooding and listening to Jack pander.
Will closed his eyes and leaned against the quarter rail, letting Jack's irregular speech patterns engross him. The pirate had great the ability to hold the crowd captive while carrying on multiple unrelated conversations, all at once—most often one with Booth and one with the whore on each knee. Will decided that, if pirating should ever lose its thrill for Jack, he could easily become a tailor with his skill for spinning yarns. Midway through a tale about how Jack escaped the East India Company by training a monkey to write and pick locks, there was a rustling sound at Will's side. He opened his eyes.
A woman slapped him.
Suddenly he had great insight as to what it was like to be Jack Sparrow. He was relatively certain he didn't deserve that.
Jack, apparently hearing the familiar sound, yelled, "that's the spirit, mate!" and raised his bottle in toast. The crew applauded and howled drunkenly along.
Will looked askance to the woman who had struck him, an exceptionally tall woman with dirty blonde hair and eyes the color of… eyes.
"Sorry, dear," she said, not unkindly. "Owed your daddy that, and I hear he's in no condition to collect."
Will rubbed his cheek.
"You look like him," she continued, moving closer and reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Prettier, though. Bootstrap was nuffink if not strapping. I'm Delilah. Care to go below?"
"Uh—no, thank you," Will said, trying to fend off her advances. He grabbed a descending advance and held it as far above waist-level as it would go.
"Fancy a go among the men, then?" she said, smiling and taking advantage of the new position to press her chest to his. "Won't be nuffink none of them ain't seen before."
"That's very kind, but truly, I'm fine."
She pouted thin lips. "Shame. You are pretty, and if you take after your father in more ways than one—well—" she eyed him suggestively.
Will tried to not shudder. "How well did you know my father?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
She grinned. "Knew him /very/ well three, four times a night if he could afford it. Could give you a demonstration…"
Will pressed on. "Did you know him at the same time as he knew Jack?"
"Oh, darlin', your daddy never knew Jack. Though not for want on Jack's part, so I hear."
"I—what?" Will said, confused. "Jack told me they were good friends."
"They was. Just never got to being more than friendly, see?"
Will blinked, trying to make sense of the conversation. More than friendly… "You mean Jack wanted to—to—"
"The word you're looking for is fuck, dear."
Will cringed. "Yes. But that's impossible."
"How's that?"
"Well, for one, neither one of them is female."
Delilah let out a snorting, high-pitched laugh. "Oh, son, that's real cute."
"I wasn't trying to be /cute/," Will said crossly.
"Oh," she said, looking at him with wide eyes, "you really don't know?"
"Know what?"
She grinned slowly, glancing at Jack, who was currently whispering into the ear of a brunette. "Not my place to say, son." Her gaze passed appraisingly over Will again. "Not a virgin, are you?"
"I don't see that's any of your concern!"
"I see, I see… eunuch?"
"/No, I am not a eunuch!/" Will hissed.
"Now, don't go overboard son. It's an obvious conclusion, pretty lad such as your self, in the company of pirates and not knowing a lick about the birds and… well, birds got nuffink to do with it, eh?"
"I have no idea what you mean, and I suspect I should be grateful for that."
"Delilah!" Jack yelled, detangling himself from the brunette, who had for all appearances passed out. Most of the crew was in that state as well by now, the ones that weren't were completely preoccupied with women or drink. Jack sauntered toward Will and Delilah, casually stepping on anyone in his path.
"Oh, Jaaaaaack," Delilah crooned, "you remember me."
"Never forget a lady, my dear," Jack said, kissing her hand and bowing exaggeratedly. "Leastwise one that stole the hearts and wallets of so many of my men."
"But never yours, Jack."
"Had mine removed," Jack said conversely, "years ago. Replaced with a bear trap, in case anyone's fool enough go looking for it." He leaned close to the woman and made a show of scrutinizing Will. "You looking to corrupt my boy? He'd do well with some of your charms."
"Trying, but he's proving mighty hard to corrupt. Virgin, did you know."
Jack's eyes swept the length of Will's body, something possessive and feral lurking behind the dark orbs. Will felt heat rise in his stomach and shamefully lower. "My guess was eunuch," Jack said.
"Aye, I thought the same, but he denies it up and down. Suppos'n we should check? To be sure, like?"
"I think /I/ should have some say in this," Will said indignantly.
"Aye, true enough," Jack said, eyes innocent. Will was beginning to realize that was a very bad sign. "However the lady questions your honor. The right proper thing to do is prove your word is truth."
"It would be the proper thing," Delilah agreed.
Will backed up the half step it took for his back to meet the rail. "Pirates don't care about honor," he said, trying to reason.
Jack's demeanor suddenly shifted. He stalked toward Will, gaze hard, forcing Will to lean back further until he was in real danger of falling overboard. This wasn't the careless, foppish man Will trepidaciously called friend; this was the man that even the fiercest pirates on the ocean were afraid to face, staring Will straight in the eye.
"That's where you're wrong, boy," Jack said, none of the usual lilt to his voice. "A pirate is worth his word if nothing else in the world. Without it he's nothing but a thieving swine at sea, and if he's under my command, a quick dead one at that. You'd do well to remember that."
Will nodded hastily, slightly terrified at the suddenly threatening pirate. The proximity wasn't helping either, fear combined with the odd fluttering in his stomach always that came with close contact to Jack, making his heart race and his lowers tighten. He took a deep stumbling breath, trying to steady himself. Jack seemed to find Will's reaction satisfactory, because he nodded once and backed up just enough that Will didn't have to strain to stay aboard.
"Since we understand each other—" Jack abruptly put his hand to Will's crotch and /rubbed/.
Will gasped and closed his eyes, and was instantly ashamed at his wanton reaction. He tried to pull away but was still in a precarious enough position that he couldn't lean back or let go of the rail for risk of falling. "Jack," he growled, voice far less outraged and more breathless and pleading than he had been trying for.
Just as abruptly the hand withdrew and Jack turned away completely, leaving Will to sag and pant against the rail, struggling not to be disappointed.
"Delilah my dear," Jack said, sauntering back to her, "you have it good authority that the son of Bootstrap Bill is indeed fully functioning, all parts accounted for."
She curtsied her thanks, showing a nice view of cleavage. When she rose she looked to Will, still panting shallowly, struggling to regain composure.
"Don't you play games with that one, Jack," she said for Jack's ears only. "We both know it's a fool that trifles with Turner blood.
Jack turned to watch Will as well, who had recovered now and was glaring at Jack with great skill. Jack said, not quiet enough that Will couldn't hear if he tried, "I've met his blade, and I don't care to be on the wrong end of it again."
Delilah muttered, "you'd do well not to molest him, then," and wandered off to see if any of men had passed out without emptying their bottles. Jack approached Will again, all casual grace as if nothing was the matter. "Don't look so ravaged, lad," he said. His gaze darted about the unconscious crew and muttered, "there may be talk." He moved to put and arm around Will's shoulder, but was pushed away roughly.
"Do not," Will growled, "touch me."
He stormed off to the other side of the ship, anywhere that he could escape Jack.
***
Capitan Henry Booth was short but incredibly thick, with a low drowning voice and an accent that sounded vaguely German. Jack approached him jovially, slumped and graceful, not towering over him like he could with even taller men. Will stood at Jack's back, making sure none of the men tried anything funny—or not funny, as was the case.
"'Allo," Jack said cheerfully.
"Your conditions," Booth growled.
Jack dropped the cordial act and straightened, suddenly a confident, no-nonsense leader. "Take what you want of my stocks, leave enough for me and the boy to eat and drink to Nassau… as well as all of the alcohol."
"How about we take everything, break your masts, and leave you and the boy to die."
There was a pause during which Jack thought about that. "No—I rather prefer my conditions."
Booth laughed the laugh of someone trying to intimidate, and a moment later the crew joined obediently. When they quieted enough to be heard, Booth said, "and pray tell, what's to stop me from carrying out mine?"
"Me and the boy," Jack said, slimy grin audible in his voice.
"And," Booth said, "who are you and the boy that should worry me?"
"Thought you'd never ask, mate. The boy here is the twinkle in the eye of one Bootstrap Bill Turner. Takes after him, if I do say so. And I…" he took a swaying step forward, indicating himself with a flourish of a hand, "am Capitan Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"
Booth paled. The crew, who had previously leering at Will, took a step back and collectively began commenting on the weather.
"Fine," Booth said, voice a tad hoarse. "Your conditions—save for the alcohol."
"You'll have ten percent," Jack said.
"Forty, and you and the boy stay aboard the Widow's Sorrow through the night. My men could use a good tale or two."
Jack nodded, his entire upper body included in the motion, and the two captains shook. The crew rushed off to loot Jack's borrowed ship while Jack watched, absently wiping his hand on his coat.
"For all you say it," Will muttered when no one else was in hearing range, "one might think your middle name was Sparrow, and your last Savvy."
Jack smiled and said nothing.
***
The Widow's Sorrow, it turned out, was well stocked with women. Few of them were widows, and none of them were sorrowful. They weren't the unsavory types that came dressed as pirates, Jack assured Will, but genuine, wholesome Tortuga harlots. That night while Jack regaled the crew with countless tales of his adventures—mainly fabricated, Will surmised—he had a steady stream of women fawning over him. At any given time he seemed to have one on each knee, two or three doting over him, and any number of others queued up for the next available space. It made it quite impossible for Will to be anywhere near the man.
Will had never been apt at reveling with strangers. During his short time as a privateer he had been one of the crew, easily accepted, but here he was unknown, living off a borrowed reputation, with none of Jack's easy charm. Now he felt that he should be at Jack's arm, nobly keeping watch for nefarious activity among the men, but he could hardly contend with the whores for space. He ended up standing alone in the best shadow he could find, quietly brooding and listening to Jack pander.
Will closed his eyes and leaned against the quarter rail, letting Jack's irregular speech patterns engross him. The pirate had great the ability to hold the crowd captive while carrying on multiple unrelated conversations, all at once—most often one with Booth and one with the whore on each knee. Will decided that, if pirating should ever lose its thrill for Jack, he could easily become a tailor with his skill for spinning yarns. Midway through a tale about how Jack escaped the East India Company by training a monkey to write and pick locks, there was a rustling sound at Will's side. He opened his eyes.
A woman slapped him.
Suddenly he had great insight as to what it was like to be Jack Sparrow. He was relatively certain he didn't deserve that.
Jack, apparently hearing the familiar sound, yelled, "that's the spirit, mate!" and raised his bottle in toast. The crew applauded and howled drunkenly along.
Will looked askance to the woman who had struck him, an exceptionally tall woman with dirty blonde hair and eyes the color of… eyes.
"Sorry, dear," she said, not unkindly. "Owed your daddy that, and I hear he's in no condition to collect."
Will rubbed his cheek.
"You look like him," she continued, moving closer and reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Prettier, though. Bootstrap was nuffink if not strapping. I'm Delilah. Care to go below?"
"Uh—no, thank you," Will said, trying to fend off her advances. He grabbed a descending advance and held it as far above waist-level as it would go.
"Fancy a go among the men, then?" she said, smiling and taking advantage of the new position to press her chest to his. "Won't be nuffink none of them ain't seen before."
"That's very kind, but truly, I'm fine."
She pouted thin lips. "Shame. You are pretty, and if you take after your father in more ways than one—well—" she eyed him suggestively.
Will tried to not shudder. "How well did you know my father?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
She grinned. "Knew him /very/ well three, four times a night if he could afford it. Could give you a demonstration…"
Will pressed on. "Did you know him at the same time as he knew Jack?"
"Oh, darlin', your daddy never knew Jack. Though not for want on Jack's part, so I hear."
"I—what?" Will said, confused. "Jack told me they were good friends."
"They was. Just never got to being more than friendly, see?"
Will blinked, trying to make sense of the conversation. More than friendly… "You mean Jack wanted to—to—"
"The word you're looking for is fuck, dear."
Will cringed. "Yes. But that's impossible."
"How's that?"
"Well, for one, neither one of them is female."
Delilah let out a snorting, high-pitched laugh. "Oh, son, that's real cute."
"I wasn't trying to be /cute/," Will said crossly.
"Oh," she said, looking at him with wide eyes, "you really don't know?"
"Know what?"
She grinned slowly, glancing at Jack, who was currently whispering into the ear of a brunette. "Not my place to say, son." Her gaze passed appraisingly over Will again. "Not a virgin, are you?"
"I don't see that's any of your concern!"
"I see, I see… eunuch?"
"/No, I am not a eunuch!/" Will hissed.
"Now, don't go overboard son. It's an obvious conclusion, pretty lad such as your self, in the company of pirates and not knowing a lick about the birds and… well, birds got nuffink to do with it, eh?"
"I have no idea what you mean, and I suspect I should be grateful for that."
"Delilah!" Jack yelled, detangling himself from the brunette, who had for all appearances passed out. Most of the crew was in that state as well by now, the ones that weren't were completely preoccupied with women or drink. Jack sauntered toward Will and Delilah, casually stepping on anyone in his path.
"Oh, Jaaaaaack," Delilah crooned, "you remember me."
"Never forget a lady, my dear," Jack said, kissing her hand and bowing exaggeratedly. "Leastwise one that stole the hearts and wallets of so many of my men."
"But never yours, Jack."
"Had mine removed," Jack said conversely, "years ago. Replaced with a bear trap, in case anyone's fool enough go looking for it." He leaned close to the woman and made a show of scrutinizing Will. "You looking to corrupt my boy? He'd do well with some of your charms."
"Trying, but he's proving mighty hard to corrupt. Virgin, did you know."
Jack's eyes swept the length of Will's body, something possessive and feral lurking behind the dark orbs. Will felt heat rise in his stomach and shamefully lower. "My guess was eunuch," Jack said.
"Aye, I thought the same, but he denies it up and down. Suppos'n we should check? To be sure, like?"
"I think /I/ should have some say in this," Will said indignantly.
"Aye, true enough," Jack said, eyes innocent. Will was beginning to realize that was a very bad sign. "However the lady questions your honor. The right proper thing to do is prove your word is truth."
"It would be the proper thing," Delilah agreed.
Will backed up the half step it took for his back to meet the rail. "Pirates don't care about honor," he said, trying to reason.
Jack's demeanor suddenly shifted. He stalked toward Will, gaze hard, forcing Will to lean back further until he was in real danger of falling overboard. This wasn't the careless, foppish man Will trepidaciously called friend; this was the man that even the fiercest pirates on the ocean were afraid to face, staring Will straight in the eye.
"That's where you're wrong, boy," Jack said, none of the usual lilt to his voice. "A pirate is worth his word if nothing else in the world. Without it he's nothing but a thieving swine at sea, and if he's under my command, a quick dead one at that. You'd do well to remember that."
Will nodded hastily, slightly terrified at the suddenly threatening pirate. The proximity wasn't helping either, fear combined with the odd fluttering in his stomach always that came with close contact to Jack, making his heart race and his lowers tighten. He took a deep stumbling breath, trying to steady himself. Jack seemed to find Will's reaction satisfactory, because he nodded once and backed up just enough that Will didn't have to strain to stay aboard.
"Since we understand each other—" Jack abruptly put his hand to Will's crotch and /rubbed/.
Will gasped and closed his eyes, and was instantly ashamed at his wanton reaction. He tried to pull away but was still in a precarious enough position that he couldn't lean back or let go of the rail for risk of falling. "Jack," he growled, voice far less outraged and more breathless and pleading than he had been trying for.
Just as abruptly the hand withdrew and Jack turned away completely, leaving Will to sag and pant against the rail, struggling not to be disappointed.
"Delilah my dear," Jack said, sauntering back to her, "you have it good authority that the son of Bootstrap Bill is indeed fully functioning, all parts accounted for."
She curtsied her thanks, showing a nice view of cleavage. When she rose she looked to Will, still panting shallowly, struggling to regain composure.
"Don't you play games with that one, Jack," she said for Jack's ears only. "We both know it's a fool that trifles with Turner blood.
Jack turned to watch Will as well, who had recovered now and was glaring at Jack with great skill. Jack said, not quiet enough that Will couldn't hear if he tried, "I've met his blade, and I don't care to be on the wrong end of it again."
Delilah muttered, "you'd do well not to molest him, then," and wandered off to see if any of men had passed out without emptying their bottles. Jack approached Will again, all casual grace as if nothing was the matter. "Don't look so ravaged, lad," he said. His gaze darted about the unconscious crew and muttered, "there may be talk." He moved to put and arm around Will's shoulder, but was pushed away roughly.
"Do not," Will growled, "touch me."
He stormed off to the other side of the ship, anywhere that he could escape Jack.
