'And furthermore,' Maren ranted, face flushed while her fingers tore at her corset, 'I swear, God as me witness, that if you ever, EVER, even fathom such a cruel, vindictive, connivin',' flustered with words and her stubborn underclothes, Maren literally growled in frustration, 'and manipulative scheme, I shall personally exorcise ye from here to hell and back! May the devil keep ye, ye treacherous harlot!' She attempted to remove her corset over her head, but unfortunately had failed to properly loosen the laces amidst her temper tantrum. Her shoulders wedged in the stubborn garment and her arms became caught above her head, flailing about and trying to wiggle free. "I'm stuck," she grunted quietly, voice muffled because of the fabric over her face.
"Can't help ye Pet," fiddling her wraith fingers through the sheets, Kristy snickered from the bed, where she perched smugly listening to Maren's lecture on meddling and privacy. Every so often, she would burst into singing giggles, choking merrily on her guffaws. After all, it had been a very fine jest, a very fine jest indeed…
0000000
Jack Sparrow was naked…
…and Kristy was laughing and laughing!
To state Maren was 'face to face' with him wasn't exactly true, more like face to pert and firm backside'. The nude pirate was examining a shelf of soaps and oils muttering drunkenly to himself, "Bugger it…too sweet…too womanly…too-yuck!" After each exclamation, a bar of soap was tossed haphazardly over his bare shoulders, carelessly landing with a stifled thump on the tile floor behind him. The slurring monologue continued while he searched for a fragrance well suited to his masculine sensibilities, apparently taking no notice of the intruder behind him. "'Take a bath Jack' indeed," he squeaked in falsetto, impersonating Elizabeth, then Maren "'Drop dead Cap'n'…well I'll very well drop her…drop her right on her back I will! See if she be sassin' me then."
Dimly, a tiny part of Maren's mind registered that Jack was referring to her, in a rather derogatory way at that, but the majority of Maren's consciousness was absorbed in the divine masterpiece presented to her. The steam from the hot water created a surreal atmosphere, foggy and dreamlike, obscuring her view enough to tease, yet permitting enough sight to tantalize. His skin glistened and sparkled copper, both from sweat and the steam. Careless hair fell over broad shoulders, clinging to the wet surface and one drop of moisture pooled then fell, running down his back. Hungrily, Maren's eyes followed its trail, gliding along his slanting spine. Jack was built deceptively lean, but Maren saw the tapered muscles staunchly defined under the smooth skin. Obviously, Jack was much stronger then he appeared. How many enemies had fallen victim to underestimating the captain's physical process? Maren was reminded of Jack's tussle with Will and shivered when the memory of his athleticism sparked an overwhelming desire in her belly.
Jack's back, which was hairless contrary to his first turtle-escape tale, tapered to slim hips, enticing as the serpent in Eden had appeared to Eve. Clenching her inching palms, Maren suppressed the ancient reflex to grasp him by those sculpted hips, but was completely helpless to resist the blush that warmed her blood when her eyes locked upon his muscled rump. The naïve virgin had never quite understood the sexual attraction to the backside, but praise the Lord, Jack's ripe flesh, taunt and tan, had converted her. What would it be like to grasp him by those ripened globes? To clutch Jack to her trembling body, feeling every flex and thrust stemming from that delicious arse?
And Jesus forgive, those thighs! Tight like steel, hard as granite, not a hint of dimple fat or hanging flab, but utter physical perfection. Now this was a territory of the male structure that Maren had often fantasized about, secretly in her darkest desires, kissing and caressing that soft plane of skin. To her, a man's thigh must represent thrilling dangers, tasty and teasing, the last frontier before the peak of the mountain, the male sex laying in wait.
But that specific and most exciting part of the anatomy, she could not see, because Jack was still inspecting the shelf of toiletries, his back to the door, "Crap…thump… bloody bath…thump…smells like rose shit to me…thump…oooh, what's this one?" Noticing the tattoos etched in various spots upon his golden skin, Maren squinted, hoping to decipher their depiction, but to no avail. The tattoos remained blurry in the steamy bathroom.
Scanning down his form once more, Jack's knees, calves, and ankles were slim like a horse, nigh, a stallion! Almost quaking with the potential of speed and dexterity coursing through those long stems. The very thought of how those brawny legs would feel, entwined with hers, supporting her, trapping her, made Maren's knees weak. Pinned under Jack, totally at his mercy, overpowered by his sheer strength, his dominating presence, that scathing tongue robbing her senseless…oh, god!
"Close the door luv, ye lettin' in a draft," Jack called over his shoulder, not even bothering to stop his soap inspection to address her.
Horrified, Maren jumped in surprise, he'd noticed her! A lump the size of merry old England lodged in her throat and she paled a sickly shade of green. No Peeping Tom or Voyeur Victor could ever comprehend the immense embarrassment that washed over her, chilling her face in shock. She was about to become the first human being ever to die of sheer humiliation alone! With a hasty fumbling at the doorknob, Maren squeaked, "Sorry!" and swiftly slammed the door shut, leaving Jack in silence.
"That's very interestin'," quirking a flirtatious eyebrow, Jack sniffed another perfumed soap and smirked, quite satisfied with both the scent and himself. In the distance, he heard Maren's clumsy footsteps run up the stairs. He let her go, for the moment at least. First things first, bath time!
"Soddin', daft, damn thing," Maren struggled, her head and shoulders jammed in her corset, "Get off me!" Gradually worming her arms downward, Maren managed to peak her head through, hair messy and razzled. Her cheeks were red from the crowded exertion, not to mention her dwindling temper.
Immediately after fleeing from the washroom and a naked Jack Sparrow, Maren had sprinted straight through the darkened hallways and headlong into the security of her bedroom, locking the door soundly behind her. There she paused in desperate denial, praying that in some miraculous way the recent events, both Jack's delicious nudity and the retching embarrassment, would be wiped mercifully from her memory. Needless to say, she was both disappointed and grateful with reality. Breathing heavily with her back leaning against the door, she took a few more minutes to regain her composure.
After which she bestowed upon Kristy the most fuming tirade of her existence. Twenty minutes of bitching and moaning, hissing and ranting, screaming and threatening, but luckily, Maren's anger burned like paper, bright and hot, while bless-fully quick and tapering. The livid scolding was now dwindling to a pissy lecture after Maren realized that chipping that grin off of Kristy's face would be near impossible, the ghost was just too damned pleased with herself to be bothered by Maren's niggling indignation.
So here the barmaid was, undressing for bed and trapped in her underclothes. She snorted as she heaved the garment up one more time, succeeding in popping the corset off. Huffing in triumph, Maren removed her shift. 'Really Kristy,' scolding and searching for her nightgown at the same time, Maren hunched over the bureau drawer, 'Did ye ever stop to think o' the consequences? What if Jack had taken that as some sort o' 'invitation, eh? I be fortunate to have escap'd there with me virtue intact!'
Again, Kristy giggled, her phantom hand trying to smother the laughter in her mouth.
'I be serious, Kristy. Some blokes might have tried somethin' a tad more forceful,' locating her new nightgown, Maren threw it over her head and commenced flattening the collar out, 'I'm just lucky that Jack is a better pirate then most.'
"That be for damn sure," Kristy ran a suggestive tongue over her bottom lip.
Patience snapping, Maren threw her hands on her hips and cocked her head, 'That's it, out!' she pointed severely at the door. 'No more o' yer perversion tonight, no more demented tricks o' disgusting innuendos, I'm not in the mood! Yer drivin' me bloody bonkers!' She hoisted her nose so high in the sir that Kristy could see up her nostrils, then indignantly turned her back on the ghost to finish fastening her nightgown in the mirror.
"Well, well," stomping upward, Kristy straightened her bony shoulders and stood to her full height, which was impressively tall if one ignored how gangly thin she was, "Lookie who gots a bug up the arse and ice up the twat!" Maren puffed up, but Kristy cut her off,"Fine, I know when I'm not want'd. I shall just take me and me debauchery elsewhere then…perhaps the Turners have start'd their night tumble." Unwillingly, a smile creeped over her lips and Maren was relieved that Kristy wasn't really angry.
'So…have fun then,' Maren conceded, grudgingly returning that smile, no sour feelings between the two.
"Believe me, I will," patting down her wispy brown hair, she purposely strode through the wall, queenly regal in her determination. Yet was not gone two seconds before sticking her head back in, "By the way," she said conversationally, face carefully masked blank, "ye got yerself a visitor." Kristy's head disappeared again, too quickly for Maren to ask her to elaborate.
'What ye say?' confused brows knotted in curiosity, Maren went to the door and opened it briskly, intending to call out after the spirit, but Kristy was not what she found…
Kneeling, with arms raised to where the doorknob should have been and lockpick held between his right thumb and index finger, Jack felinely blinked up at Maren, perplexed at her sudden replacement of the door he'd been unlocking only a moment prior. Not surprisingly, Jack's first action after bathing was to reapply his kohl. "Hello," he stated simply, realizing he'd been caught red-handed. Grinning a broad pseudo-innocent smile, the pirate palmed the lockpick and in a flash, the thieving tool was safely hidden in his cuff, "Lovely weather we've been havin', eh?"
Aghast mouth hanging agape, Maren gasped, "Yer breakin' into me room!"
"I most certainly am not, absolutely ridiculous! How dare you madam, I be insult'd!" standing, Jack loomed ominously over Maren's smaller stature and for an instant, Maren wondered if she had genuinely insulted the pirate captain. But then Jack's demeanor returned to 'normal', elbows cocking his twirling hands up and figure swaggering in a drunken sway, the leering in his eyes and gold in his smile twinkled, "See?" he dismissively gestured at the doorknob, "Nothin's broken per say, just a good ole fashion'd lockpickin', savvy?"
"Ye know perfectly well what I mean," Maren crossed her arms protectively over her chest, "Supposin' it ne'er occurr'd to ye to try knockin'?"
"Ye did'n knock," retorting, his voice was low and eyes half-lidded, only the tiniest hint of a smirk graced his features.
Blood rushed to her cheeks and Maren's skin flamed bright red. Stupidly, she had hoped Jack would act the gentleman and pretend the whole 'washroom incident' had never happened. What a futile wish that had been! Biting nervously on her lip, she was at an absolute loss at how tempting she now appeared to Jack, flesh rose-red from her blush, eyes dark and downcast. Immediately, Jack reached out to embrace her, crooking his head at an angle in anticipation of a passionate kiss, but Maren stepped away from him. "Ahoy there Cap'n," she retreated backwards further into the room, hands holding him off, "Listen, that was'n me fault back there, was'n even me idea. 'Twas Kristy, all right? She was playin' a littl' prank on me…ur, on us I guess. I did'n know ye were," clumsily she faltered, "in there. She fool'd me!" She repeated herself, desperate to make Jack believe her, "Fool'd me! Total accident on me part."
"Ah," sighing his exaggerated understanding of the situation, Jack stepped through the doorway and pointedly shut the door behind him, "Well that was most pirate-y 'o ye, Kristy. Very funny too, I applaud ye."
"She's not here," Maren glared at Jack's fingers fondling the doorknob. "Lock that door and ye're a dead man, Jack Sparrow," she added sharply.
Reluctantly his hand fell away, his ego somewhat bruised by her harsh tongue and lack of 'captain'. "Refresh me memory, Maren me luv," he avenged himself, nonchalantly examining his white fingernails and was only a tad surprised to find them actually clean, "Was it twenty seconds or maybe round half-a-minute that ye were accidentally ogglin' at me buck naked bum?" Biting a cuticle, he animatedly shrugged, "Me, I count'd thirty meself, but I always be countin' seconds too fast, so…"
Jack's victory was tenfold sweeter when Maren flustered, stuttering and speechless. "I…but…well 'tis…um, 'twas more like ten seconds…at the very most," she snapped back lamely; however, she gracefully regained her temperamental composure, "So do'n be flatterin' yerself, Cap'n Sparrow." Brusquely, Maren approached the bureau and grabbed her robe, "Now," thrusting her arms into the sleeves, "Unlessen there be somethin' proper ye want from me, and I mean proper in the highest possible standard o' the word, ye can just mosey that tattooed arse o' yers out that door."
"Believe it o' not," Jack gushed, pleasantly flattered by the reference to his decorated rump, "I need yer help, please."
His sincere appeal was so unexpected that Maren, taken slightly aback, nodded mutely with only a smidgeon of suspicion evident.
"It's," muttering to himself, Jack struggled to articulate his problem, "Ye see…I'm…not as-how to put it correctly? Let's see…um," and here Jack spoke the next word so reluctantly, Maren barely caught it, " as young as littl' William is, savvy?"
"What?" bewildered, she vacantly stared at him, totally lost.
He attempted again, "Well, Will is…still, so bloody…he be twenty ye see, in his prime really." Hastily, Jack attached, "Not to insinuate that I'm past me prime by any stretch o' the imagination. Well, I mean…ye saw me buff-side yerself, right? Fine strong, vibrant, if not quite youthful anymore, physique. I can hold me own. Wouldn't ye agree?"
Another silent and extremely puzzled nod came from Maren.
"O' course!" rallying a bit, he gibbered onward, "Aye, I be just as strappin' now as when I was a lad o' Will's age, no difference whatsoever…maybe even a tad more ton'd if I do say so meself."
Maren interrupted, "Jack?"
"Aye?"
"What's the bleedin' point?"
Opening his mouth, Jack changed his mind and shut it, only to give in and open it again on a second thought. He looked like a suffocating fish, a handsomely charming suffocating fish, but still a fish nonetheless. Surrendering his pride, Jack confessed, "I pull'd a muscle in me back when I was tusslin' with Will this mornin'."
Finally, Maren thought she understood, "Oh."
"At first, me back was a littl' uncomfortable is all, but I've been on it all damn day and I wo'n get a wink o' sleep tonight, unless some beautiful barmaid works the crick out for me, So, if ye do'n mind, I was wonderin' if ye might help me, give it a bit o' a rub, eh? " he beseeched her with an expression so imploringly pathetic, Maren felt a lump in her throat.
"Ye want a back rub?" those blue eyes rolled heavenward, "Christ's sake and all that be holy, why didn't ye just say so?" Tugging his sleeve, she guided him to the plush rug in front of the dwindling fireplace, "Sit down, ye big baby."
"Oh goody!" Jack lowered himself down with only minor difficulty and a small grimace of discomfort. His hands traveled to the hem of his un-tucked shirt, ready to lift it off over his head.
"Shirt stays on," grabbing him by the wrist, Maren sat down next to him and glowered, "o' ye goes out!"
Holding his hands out in surrender, Jack shrugged, "No insult intend'd, no insult intend'd, just reckon'd it might be makin' yer task a bit easier is all." Under his breath, he muttered, "Not like it's nothin' ye have'n seen anyhow." When Maren shot him a deadly glare, Jack batted his eyes innocently.
"Lay down," Maren sighed, rolling up her sleeves as Jack complied, his face turned away from her and towards the dieing embers of the fire. What a picture it was! Jack spread out before her, barefoot in only his trousers and white shirt, smelling clean with hair still damp. Hammering her resolve, she tentatively brushed Jack's heavy hair. it tinkled quietly, off his shoulders to expose his arched neck. Thankful her hands weren't shaking, Maren began to knead the warm flesh at the base of his skull, working her way lower.
What sounded disbelievingly like a purr, fell from Jack's lips and he sensually groaned, "Not that I be complainin' mind,-ahh, yes…that's real nice that is,-but me actual malady is a fair degree more southwards."
"Trust me Jack," she grunted, molding the skin at the base of his neck and gradually spreading to the expanse of his fine shoulders, "Me pa had wicked-bad back problems and, believe me I know, if ye don't work all them muscles right loose the whole damn thing is shot to hell in a manner o' hours."
"Ooo," another appreciative moan leaked from the pirate's mouth as Maren hardily squeezed the meaty flesh inside the shoulder blades, "Keep this up, lass, and Jack'll trust ye anythin'." Unsuccessfully, Maren attempted to stay her concentration at the job at hand, but the heated feel of the body below was a constant and very enticing distraction. Unbidden, yet not entirely unwanted, visions of Jack's nude form in the washroom plagued Maren's struggling thoughts. Her heart hammered in her chest, unable to banish the realization that she was touching that same body now. She felt muscles ripple as they tensed and relaxed, she felt the steady vibration of his distant heartbeat, and she felt the hidden angles and curves to his structure. Suddenly, Maren's mouth became very dry and she tried to divert her attention to another topic.
"So," she asked curiously, "how old are you anyway?"
Immediately, Jack stiffened under her hands and Maren stilled her ministrations, confused at his reaction. "Not a day over twenty-nine," he spoke quickly.
Amusedly puzzled by this enigma of rouges, Maren continued to rub, laughing, "Thought only woman lied 'bout their age."
"Aye, well, woman and pirates," conceding, Jack grumbled, but not painfully, when Maren hit a particularly tender spot. Hearing him, Maren gave the location just inside his spine and below the blade a lasting knead. "Sweet siren, woman, gaaaahd ye're good," he began hissing, but finished in another pleased groan. It did not escape Maren's uncomfortable notice that Jack's vocal affirmations were becoming more and more orgasmic sounding. She blushed.
"Ah yes, Maren," conversationally, Jack mentioned as if the topic had just appeared in his mind, "Been meanin' to have a talk with ye-oui, do that thing with ye fingers 'gain, aye like that."
Complying, Maren aggressively attached the area in the middle of Jack's ribs with loose pinches. "Talk 'bout what?" she had to speak up to make herself heard over Jack's appreciative groans.
He sighed offhandedly, "'Bout ye and Kristy mostly."
"Pardon?"
"'Bout yer history and whatnot, mmmh," he punctuated with a moan, "For example, when and why ye'd ye leave London?"
Maren's pause was too lengthy, "Ten years 'go. Pa was lookin' for a better life 'broad."
"Jeeesussss…lovely, keep that up," he purred to her, while Maren massaged the tight muscles at the spine and under the ribcage. "Now luv, littl' gels what tell naughty lies do'n go to heaven," in a sickly sing-song, he warned.
"But Jack-" Maren attempted.
"Ah-uh," stopping her, Jack lifted a hand off of the rug so a finger could waggle at her, "Men do'n go to Tortuga for better lives, especially with young daughters…oh, watch for tickles sweetheart, wee sensitive there," Maren barely suppressed the temptation to tickle him to distraction, "Men go to Tortuga to, one, buy things o' two, sell things."
"O' three," softly, she whispered, "to hide."
"Oh yes," Jack considered carefully, "to hide. Quite right." Waiting patiently for her to continue, Jack finally prompted, ever so gently, "What were ye hidin' from I wonder?"
Dully, Maren's hands stilled on Jack's back and her voice became a narrative monotone, almost like she was mimicking one of her trances. In a rare occurrence, Jack remained silent to listen to her, "Was getting' a name for meself in London. Start'd on the streets, just a littl' sideshow. Guessin' what be in peoples' pockets and other such nonsense for a few shillin's. Then I start'd to…develop and suddenly, a lot o' folk were comin' to see me, mostly the poor, some middle classes. But 'twas the rich I should o' stay'd clear of. All at once, I 'came the newest trend, sort o' speak. Them hobnobs consider'd it fashionable entertainment to have a séance party with yers truly as the freak attraction. Ye'd be surpris'd how many o' them buggerin' fools did'n even believe me to be a real medium, yet they still hir'd me. Aint that the bull's cock?"
"Anyway, one night, I got in deep trouble. Me own fault really. Should've wait'd for Kristy, she be searchin' the house for haunts, but I couldn't stand one more beratin' remark o' snide comment from them pompous arses! I had to shut them up. The lady o' the manor, her brother was missin' and she want'd me help…so I found him at the bottom o' a lake with his throat slash'd and feet still bound. Murder'd for profit, murder'd by his sisters', husband who sat next to her, holdin' her hand. So, I told them all that-er, rather he told them all that through me. Could'n stop him without Kristy."
"Oh shit," Jack mumbled under his breath.
Laughing bitterly, Maren focused again on massaging Jack's stiff back and he erupted in more pleasant purrs, "By the grace o' God, we escap'd in the chaos that night, but 'fore the sun even rose, they were searchin' for us. Cook'd up some bogus charge on me pa, makin' him a fugitive when they were really lookin' for me. Luckily, we spent the savin's we'd made and board'd a trade ship that very mornin' towards Tortuga. Me pa had an old chum there, Old Buckman, and he ow'd Pa a favor. I've ne'er return'd to London since."
Jack turned his head on the rug to better stare at Maren, thoughtfully inquiring, "Ye not us'd yer gift for profit either?"
"Ye would ask that," tsk-ing, Maren gave Jack a punishing pinch to his side and ignored his irritated yipe, "Me pa and I 'greed to ne'er let anyone know o' me powers 'gain. But sometimes his drinkin' bill, o' rent, o' food, o' doctor's charges would get on top o' us and I'd be forced to risk me secret. I'd sneak off the to cemeteries in disguise and wait for a funeral, folk that can 'fford a funeral can usually spare some change, offer them a message from their dearly depart'd for money, convince them if they requir'd some convincin', and tadda-we were ne'er homeless and ne'er hungry."
"So that's how ye managed to be the only woman in Tortuga who was'n workin' the streets," Jack mused somewhat mournfully, then moaned, "Aye, Maren, that's the bastard knot right there, have no mercy on that son o' a bitch-ouch!"
It was a very nasty knot, Maren agreed, located on his lower back, around the left kidney. Under her questing hands, the stubborn cramped muscle refused to loosen, hard as steel. Time for drastic measures, "All right Jack, relax and breathe big deep breaths now." Placing her elbow over the villainous cramp, she propped herself up on her knees and leaned her fist atop the other. All her weight would now be centered on that one elbow.
"Ahhh-OUCH!" Jack's head shot up from the floor and he bared his teeth in pain as Maren dug her bony elbow into the knot, rotating it back and forth, "Christ, get off me…ahhh…that hurts!"
"Quiet Jack," Maren growled, viciously jabbing at his back, "and lie still! It has to hurt if it's to heal, as Kristy always says. I promise, it'll start to feel good real soon!"
Good! This woman was crazy! What was only moments ago a distressing ache was now a piercing pain racking through his body and centering on that blasted spot under the insane medium's elbow! How was this supposed to help? "Oui, ah…quit it already…damn that smarts!" Jack snapped from under Maren, but was ignored. "Ah, ah, ah," he hissed, "ouch, damn it!" still sore, "Fuck me…that…ouch!" even more painful, "Piss off…Christ stop, for the luv o'-ahhh!" the throbs of electric suffering were swiftly mounting into just plain unbearable, "Ah, damn, Maren…fuck…oui, ye sadist..AHH!" and the damn broke. "God, YES!" the blood rushed through the suffocating muscles like parched streams, "Aye…do'n stop luv-pleeeaase! Oh that's…god, so good!" Though Jack's back went limp, his neck still arched high and his fists were clamping the rug for dear life, "Mmmh, harder luv…yes, aye, yeah…right, ah, mmmh, ooh-FUCK, ye got IT!"
Abruptly, Jack's entire body collapsed, leaving him breathless with a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. He was deliciously exhausted and inexplicably satisfied. 'Did I just get laid?' he wondered vaguely.
"See?" cooing sweetly, naively oblivious to the sheer realms of pleasure Jack had just experienced, Maren petted the curve of his spine, up and down, up and down, like stroking a large cat, "Feel better?"
"Mmm, uh," Jack groaned his affirmation into the carpet, purring his vocal applause. Beneath Maren's caress, Jack shivered, his muscles and back relaxed to the point of rubber. The next sentence he drawled out was measured and precise, zapping most of his depleting strength, "Ye. Be. Amazin'." Here he turned his face towards her, a tiny flush graced his cheeks.
Maren's responding blush made Jack moan yet again as she smiled, "Thank ye-."
Kristy's panicked shouts cut her off, "Brother-bugger, son o' a nun, damn it all!" The ghost exploded through the wall, eyes wide, screaming, "Brit soldiers, by God! Dozen o' so! Comin' up the yard and head'd here!"
