Well, the majority vote is all at once, so here goes! Just remember to
review, okay? They're very important chapters!
*~*~*
The sunlight hit James's face unmercifully, shining brightly in through the window and shaking him from his deep sleep. He groaned, turning over, and groaned again, this time at the horrendous thumping in his head. He could smell brandy, and it didn't take much of a genius to guess where the headache had come from after that.
Pushing himself into a sitting position, he looked about the chamber, his eyes falling on a neat pile of clothes at the end of the bed. So . . . someone had been kind enough to bring him up and undress him last night, he mused, wondering who it could have been. Not Jack Sparrow or Will Turner, certainly. The last thing he clearly remembered was Marin pulling him to his feet and . . .
His eyes widened in consternation as the entire evening came back to him. He lay back in self-disgust, angry that he had allowed himself to get so drunk that the only sober member of their party had had to manhandle him upstairs and into bed. It was only made worse by the fact that it had been Marin.
James threw back the covers, steadfastly ignoring the headache as he went about his morning ablutions, thinking back over the end of the evening. Standing before the mirror as he put his wig on, he was hit by the sudden memory of her fingers against his forehead, brushing his hair away gently. And another memory, more hazy, of a song . . . something about Erin.
A faint smile touched his lips. She had sung his mother's song to him. After all the trouble he had put her through getting him up to bed, and then tucking him in, she had still been prepared to sit with him as he fell asleep, singing him a song he had not heard since her father died. She really was a tender-hearted girl, not at all the sort he would have expected to live a life of piracy.
He nodded to himself in the mirror, satisfied with his appearance and ignoring the throbbing in his side as he strode to the door. He stepped out onto the landing, and almost sent Marin toppling down the stairs. He reached out to catch her, feeling his cheeks redden as the unwanted memories of the night before once again flooded his mind.
She smiled up at him, seemingly at ease with him despite his appalling behaviour.
'Good morning, James,' she said softly, as though she knew what a terrible headache he was suffering from. 'Did you sleep well?'
He nodded curtly, embarrassed that she had witnessed him so inebriated and yet was still unashamed to associate with him.
'Well enough,' he said shortly, turning to walk down the stairs.
He missed the intrigued smile that curved her lips as she followed him down, hoping that if he didn't mention the evening before, it would just go away. Marin couldn't help but be amused at his obvious self-denial of his actions, not understanding why he seemed so awkward with himself that morning. She had seen enough drunken sailors to know that most of what he had said the night before had been truth, and saw no reason for him to be ashamed, especially since most of what he had said had been so very endearing.
They passed out into the garden, where Jack was leaning against the wall and watching the ships sail across the harbour. He nodded to them in greeting, recognising all the signs of a high-class hangover in the commodore as James nodded back, feeling as though the top of his head was about to come off.
Marin moved to stand beside the pirate as her cousin wandered through the dilapidated bushes towards the garden proper, where she knew there was a bench he could relax on and carefully go over what he could remember of the night before.
She glanced up at Jack, who seemed a little uneasy with her this morning.
'What's wrong with you today?' she asked. 'And don't try to tell me you've got a hangover.'
Jack smiled faintly, knowing her confidence came from seeing Elias drink far more than either of them had the night before and awake with a clear head the next day. He shifted uncomfortably, trying not to invade her personal space.
'No, my head is in full working order,' he assured her, unable to meet her eyes.
It was possibly the first time he had ever been ashamed of himself for the way he treated a woman, especially when he had done so very little. Marin had dealt with him masterfully the night before, and he was grateful to her for resisting the impulse to open the door again when he passed out. He'd remained slumped outside her door until Elias had staggered up, picking him up so they could mutually support one another up the third flight of steps.
Marin was watching him with an amused smile, making him wonder if she had suddenly developed an ability to read minds.
'So . . . ?' she prompted, wanting to know if he remembered the night before.
Jack swallowed, looking everywhere but at her.
'And I would like to offer my apologies for my behaviour last night,' he said, running his words together in the hopes that she would accept the apology and drop the subject.
Marin laughed softly, slipping a little closer to him.
'Why apologise?' she asked. 'I found it all rather flattering, actually.'
Jack froze. He hadn't expected that as an answer, definitely not when he clearly remembered her shutting her bedroom door in his face. In the normal way of things, she should have either shouted at him, or just ignored any allusion to the incident. She certainly wasn't supposed to take it as a compliment. Not that he minded, of course. It was just a confusing way of taking what he had done.
'Well, I can assure you it won't happen again,' he said firmly, hoping this was what she wanted to hear.
Marin's smile widened slightly as he coughed uncomfortably, suddenly aware that she had embarrassed the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow with a single comment. She turned away to look out across the harbour, and he could have sworn he heard her mutter,
'Shame.'
He stared, unseeing, at the water, shocked at her easy acceptance of his drunken advances. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, he realised. He was supposed to apologise and then start again with the whole wooing scenario, not let himself be teased by the very woman he wanted so very much.
And yet, somehow, some part of him found this situation very amusing. He sighed. It was the part of him he had a tendency to ignore. Emotions weren't something you paid much attention to if you were a pirate. They tended to get in the way. But the emotional side of him had found Marin's reaction to his behaviour very funny indeed, found her amusement attractive even as she teased him. It just didn't make sense, he thought. But then, love wasn't known for its sense.
He blinked. Where had that thought come from? Who said anything about love? He liked the girl, admittedly he liked her very much, but he wasn't in love with her. Was he? Jack frowned, looking around his own mind to find answers to his questions. He thought of her almost constantly, aware of a dull ache within him when she was out of his sight. She would fit comfortably in his arms once they were both divested of all weapons. He smiled when she smiled, enjoying his ability to entertain her. When he had seen her, bloodied and bruised, he had wanted to beat the tar out of anyone who had been involved in hurting his Marin.
His Marin. Without realising it, he had been thinking of her as his Marin for days now, ever since Elias told him she wasn't spoken for. Now Norrington was out of the picture, he had no rival for her love . . . and it was her love he wanted. Captain Jack Sparrow, feared captain of the Black Pearl, was suddenly aware that he longed for her loving companionship above all else. Even the Pearl. He would give up all he had worked for, he realised, just to keep his Marin by his side.
Her voice cut into his thoughts, ripping him away from his unexpected revelation.
'Jack? Are you sure you're alright?'
He smiled down at her faintly worried expression, wrapping his arm about her shoulders as he had done countless times before. This time, however, he was achingly aware of how she moulded softly against him, her hand reaching up to hold his hip lightly. Just being aware of that unconsciously intimate touch set his blood on fire, and he had to exert massive control over his impulses. The last thing he wanted now was to frighten her away, just when he'd realised how much he needed her.
Marin glanced up at him, sensing something had changed. His arm about her shoulders seemed somehow more possessive than it ever had before, though there was no change to the way it rested against her. He was gazing down at her with an unreadable expression, a sultry look in his eyes that seemed to warm her from within. What was wrong with her? She'd never reacted to him like this before, and was unsure how to cope with the alien feelings growing inside her.
A thin cry broke the tense silence around them as young Matthew Turner announced to the world his wish to be fed. Jack glanced up at the window, where they could just see Will, half-asleep, wandering past to lift the screaming baby from his cradle. Marin laughed softly to herself.
'I wonder how long it'll take for them to get used to that,' she mused.
Jack grinned.
'Probably as long as it takes for the little one to grow out of it,' he suggested as the wailing ceased above them. 'I should think young William will be down shortly for his breakfast, don't you?'
Marin smiled at his light tone, letting him lead her into the house to prepare something for Will to take up to his wife. Even though this something between them had suddenly grown, she couldn't see Jack Sparrow changing for anyone, least of all her. And why should he? She loved him just the way he was.
*~*~*
The sunlight hit James's face unmercifully, shining brightly in through the window and shaking him from his deep sleep. He groaned, turning over, and groaned again, this time at the horrendous thumping in his head. He could smell brandy, and it didn't take much of a genius to guess where the headache had come from after that.
Pushing himself into a sitting position, he looked about the chamber, his eyes falling on a neat pile of clothes at the end of the bed. So . . . someone had been kind enough to bring him up and undress him last night, he mused, wondering who it could have been. Not Jack Sparrow or Will Turner, certainly. The last thing he clearly remembered was Marin pulling him to his feet and . . .
His eyes widened in consternation as the entire evening came back to him. He lay back in self-disgust, angry that he had allowed himself to get so drunk that the only sober member of their party had had to manhandle him upstairs and into bed. It was only made worse by the fact that it had been Marin.
James threw back the covers, steadfastly ignoring the headache as he went about his morning ablutions, thinking back over the end of the evening. Standing before the mirror as he put his wig on, he was hit by the sudden memory of her fingers against his forehead, brushing his hair away gently. And another memory, more hazy, of a song . . . something about Erin.
A faint smile touched his lips. She had sung his mother's song to him. After all the trouble he had put her through getting him up to bed, and then tucking him in, she had still been prepared to sit with him as he fell asleep, singing him a song he had not heard since her father died. She really was a tender-hearted girl, not at all the sort he would have expected to live a life of piracy.
He nodded to himself in the mirror, satisfied with his appearance and ignoring the throbbing in his side as he strode to the door. He stepped out onto the landing, and almost sent Marin toppling down the stairs. He reached out to catch her, feeling his cheeks redden as the unwanted memories of the night before once again flooded his mind.
She smiled up at him, seemingly at ease with him despite his appalling behaviour.
'Good morning, James,' she said softly, as though she knew what a terrible headache he was suffering from. 'Did you sleep well?'
He nodded curtly, embarrassed that she had witnessed him so inebriated and yet was still unashamed to associate with him.
'Well enough,' he said shortly, turning to walk down the stairs.
He missed the intrigued smile that curved her lips as she followed him down, hoping that if he didn't mention the evening before, it would just go away. Marin couldn't help but be amused at his obvious self-denial of his actions, not understanding why he seemed so awkward with himself that morning. She had seen enough drunken sailors to know that most of what he had said the night before had been truth, and saw no reason for him to be ashamed, especially since most of what he had said had been so very endearing.
They passed out into the garden, where Jack was leaning against the wall and watching the ships sail across the harbour. He nodded to them in greeting, recognising all the signs of a high-class hangover in the commodore as James nodded back, feeling as though the top of his head was about to come off.
Marin moved to stand beside the pirate as her cousin wandered through the dilapidated bushes towards the garden proper, where she knew there was a bench he could relax on and carefully go over what he could remember of the night before.
She glanced up at Jack, who seemed a little uneasy with her this morning.
'What's wrong with you today?' she asked. 'And don't try to tell me you've got a hangover.'
Jack smiled faintly, knowing her confidence came from seeing Elias drink far more than either of them had the night before and awake with a clear head the next day. He shifted uncomfortably, trying not to invade her personal space.
'No, my head is in full working order,' he assured her, unable to meet her eyes.
It was possibly the first time he had ever been ashamed of himself for the way he treated a woman, especially when he had done so very little. Marin had dealt with him masterfully the night before, and he was grateful to her for resisting the impulse to open the door again when he passed out. He'd remained slumped outside her door until Elias had staggered up, picking him up so they could mutually support one another up the third flight of steps.
Marin was watching him with an amused smile, making him wonder if she had suddenly developed an ability to read minds.
'So . . . ?' she prompted, wanting to know if he remembered the night before.
Jack swallowed, looking everywhere but at her.
'And I would like to offer my apologies for my behaviour last night,' he said, running his words together in the hopes that she would accept the apology and drop the subject.
Marin laughed softly, slipping a little closer to him.
'Why apologise?' she asked. 'I found it all rather flattering, actually.'
Jack froze. He hadn't expected that as an answer, definitely not when he clearly remembered her shutting her bedroom door in his face. In the normal way of things, she should have either shouted at him, or just ignored any allusion to the incident. She certainly wasn't supposed to take it as a compliment. Not that he minded, of course. It was just a confusing way of taking what he had done.
'Well, I can assure you it won't happen again,' he said firmly, hoping this was what she wanted to hear.
Marin's smile widened slightly as he coughed uncomfortably, suddenly aware that she had embarrassed the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow with a single comment. She turned away to look out across the harbour, and he could have sworn he heard her mutter,
'Shame.'
He stared, unseeing, at the water, shocked at her easy acceptance of his drunken advances. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, he realised. He was supposed to apologise and then start again with the whole wooing scenario, not let himself be teased by the very woman he wanted so very much.
And yet, somehow, some part of him found this situation very amusing. He sighed. It was the part of him he had a tendency to ignore. Emotions weren't something you paid much attention to if you were a pirate. They tended to get in the way. But the emotional side of him had found Marin's reaction to his behaviour very funny indeed, found her amusement attractive even as she teased him. It just didn't make sense, he thought. But then, love wasn't known for its sense.
He blinked. Where had that thought come from? Who said anything about love? He liked the girl, admittedly he liked her very much, but he wasn't in love with her. Was he? Jack frowned, looking around his own mind to find answers to his questions. He thought of her almost constantly, aware of a dull ache within him when she was out of his sight. She would fit comfortably in his arms once they were both divested of all weapons. He smiled when she smiled, enjoying his ability to entertain her. When he had seen her, bloodied and bruised, he had wanted to beat the tar out of anyone who had been involved in hurting his Marin.
His Marin. Without realising it, he had been thinking of her as his Marin for days now, ever since Elias told him she wasn't spoken for. Now Norrington was out of the picture, he had no rival for her love . . . and it was her love he wanted. Captain Jack Sparrow, feared captain of the Black Pearl, was suddenly aware that he longed for her loving companionship above all else. Even the Pearl. He would give up all he had worked for, he realised, just to keep his Marin by his side.
Her voice cut into his thoughts, ripping him away from his unexpected revelation.
'Jack? Are you sure you're alright?'
He smiled down at her faintly worried expression, wrapping his arm about her shoulders as he had done countless times before. This time, however, he was achingly aware of how she moulded softly against him, her hand reaching up to hold his hip lightly. Just being aware of that unconsciously intimate touch set his blood on fire, and he had to exert massive control over his impulses. The last thing he wanted now was to frighten her away, just when he'd realised how much he needed her.
Marin glanced up at him, sensing something had changed. His arm about her shoulders seemed somehow more possessive than it ever had before, though there was no change to the way it rested against her. He was gazing down at her with an unreadable expression, a sultry look in his eyes that seemed to warm her from within. What was wrong with her? She'd never reacted to him like this before, and was unsure how to cope with the alien feelings growing inside her.
A thin cry broke the tense silence around them as young Matthew Turner announced to the world his wish to be fed. Jack glanced up at the window, where they could just see Will, half-asleep, wandering past to lift the screaming baby from his cradle. Marin laughed softly to herself.
'I wonder how long it'll take for them to get used to that,' she mused.
Jack grinned.
'Probably as long as it takes for the little one to grow out of it,' he suggested as the wailing ceased above them. 'I should think young William will be down shortly for his breakfast, don't you?'
Marin smiled at his light tone, letting him lead her into the house to prepare something for Will to take up to his wife. Even though this something between them had suddenly grown, she couldn't see Jack Sparrow changing for anyone, least of all her. And why should he? She loved him just the way he was.