Disney made Jack and James.

Once again many thanks to my kind reviewers:

LadyBush- Alas, I fear PotC2 may contain no sodomy at all. I do hope it will still fuel our obsessions to slash.

Rowana S- but who could disrespect James, and who would dare to, with Jack around?

Nanashi- more warm fuzzies in the works.

Elaneon- I think we should invent the Sparrington cocktail. Rum and um? Honey and lemon, set aflame and poured over ice? Elaneon, you are really going to have to help me out here.

Red Stocking- more letter joy coming your way soon.

DeadPoetic-Computers hate me too. You can leave me messages at Parley archive or in reviews any time. I'll try to see if my e-mail is blocking yours somehow.

Oneriad- Yes, I think one could abuse this Jack quite a bit without him ever even thinking revenge, so long as one didn't try to commandeer the Pearl or hurt people he cares about.

Emx- thank you!

An Answer of Doubt- Part 10

Jack was gone when James awoke. His back was itching, which he took to be a good sign. James had washed and dressed, and was sitting at the table eating an apple when Jack came in. Jack was carrying a large stack of canvas squares, a bucket with a couple of inches of black paint and a brush in it, some rags, and a block of wood. He set it all down on the table.

"Good morning, James. Did you sleep well?" Jack was attempting to torment him with his most outrageously self-satisfied smile.

James had slept the night away like a dead thing wrapped around Jack. Knowing full well Jack knew it, James said, "No, as a matter of fact, I did not sleep a wink, unfortunately. Tossed and turned the whole night," Then he did his best to imitate Jack's smile.

Jack stepped behind his chair, tilted James' face back, kissed him, and stole his apple, "Liar," Jack whispered breathily into his ear. "How's your back?"

"It is itching."

"Shirt off."

James complied. Jack took a bite out of his apple and handed it back to James. He washed his hands, removed the bandage, and examined the stitches.

"Eat your apple. Gunna take these stitches out."

"All right. Where do you want me?"

"Right there's fine."

Jack cleaned the area with rum and with a wickedly sharp little dagger carefully cut the first stitch near to James skin, wrapped the long end of the thread arounda needle, held James skin in place with the fingers of his left hand, held the thread tight against the needle with his right forefinger and thumb and pulled in the direction away from the wound. He did the same six more times until all the thread was out of James. He dabbed the area over with rum again.

"There you go, love. Leave your shirt off a while. I'll get Ana to make you up some salve to stop the itching. Providing I can keep my hands off you for a couple of days, you should be fine now."

"Do you really mean that you will not touch me at all for two days?"

Jack smiled, "I suppose I could be very, very careful with you."

James smiled and picked up the wood block. On the top of the face of the block was an excellent carving of the likeness Jack had drawn. Below it were a series of symbols- a heart, the number 50, with a hand below, a turtle with what looked like a grate below that, and a simplified version of the sparrow tattoo on Jack's arm.

"What do these symbols mean, Jack?"

"Mean I'll pay anyone delivering this fellow, alive (Jack pointed to the heart,) to the jail in Tortuga (the turtle and the grate,) fifty gold doubloons (the number and the hand.)"

"That's rather generous. What happens then?"

"Jailer's a friend of mine, well, more of less. He'll pay the bounty. Knows I'll reimburse him and pay him that again if he keeps the prisoner alive for me." Jack reached for the wood block, "May I?"

James handed him the block. Jack brushed it lightly with black paint, then stamped the paint onto a square of canvas.

"That works a treat," Jack said, carefully setting the block face up on the table. "Taking this one to Cotton to show him what a fine job he did. Still want some light duties, love? Don't have to, if looking at the face is going to bother you."

James pursed his lips and gave Jack his signature look of annoyance.

"Don't be daft, Jack. How many do you want?"

"Many as you want to make, love! I'll send you in some more canvas, in a bit. Keep the paint light. Wipe the block down every so often with a rag, so the block doesn't get all gummed up, ey? Try not to get paint all over everything, won't you?"

James smiled. "Aye, Captain."

Jack kissed his cheek and left again.

James was nearly through the first stack of canvas when there was a knock.

"Come in!"

Pagett entered, smiling brightly, looking about at all the finery in awe, carrying a large stack of canvas squares.

James couldn't help smiling at the dazzled young man.

"Hello, Pagett."

"Ello Grey! How's your back coming along, then?"

"Much better, thank you."

"Been wantin' ta tell ya, none of us lads thought Clemmons was in the right, doin' what he done."

"It's good to know. Thank you for telling me."

"Looks like he done ya a good turn without trying! The Captain, he seems right taken with ya. Wha's he like, then, Grey?"

"Captain Sparrow is a very fine man."

"Aye, was hoping he'd like em a bit younger."

"About your age, perhaps?"

"Aye! Was hoping! Funny how things work out. Lots of the lads was sayin' they would've aggravated Clemmons to no end, if they'd only known!" Pagett, pointed to one of the faces drying on the table. "Who's this the Captain's puttin bounty on?"

"Afraid I don't know his name."

"Well, there's sure to be profit in it! Be bringin' ya in more canvas, soon as I get a big enough stack cut. Grey, good luck with the Captain, ey?"

"Thank you, Pagett."

Pagett took another admiring look around, and left.

James smiled. Until that moment, it had never occurred to him that sleeping with the captain on a pirate ship would be considered such an honor.

"Only on the Black Pearl, probably," James said to himself, stamping yet another square of canvas.

James had nearly every surface including most of the floor covered, when Jack came back with lunch. Jack looked for a place to set their bowls down and finally settled for a chair.

"Good enough for one day, love. Won't be room in here for us, if you keep on."

"When will we reach New Providence?"

"Tomorrow, before noon, most likely. Looking forward to a bit of shore leave?"

"I suppose so."

"Almost forgot, Ana gave me some salve to put on your back."

Jack washed his hands and opened the tin. The scent of cocoa butter permeated the room. Jack patted the salve over the scab, then rubbed his hands together and worked the rest into knots in James' neck and shoulders. Then he handed James his bowl of peas.

"Do you think he will be found, Jack?"

"Lots of pirates in the Spanish Main, James. They do tend to get around a bit. Not a lot they wouldn't do to collect a nice little prize. If he's in the Caribbean and not dead, he'll end up in jail in Tortuga, sooner or later."

"After you collect him?"

"You mean what happens to him? Up to him how cooperative he feels like being. Up to you, after that, love."

...to be continued...