The Scroll Of Kesmehet
Chapter Three: Drag Queen In Distress
The next week of sailing that followed was undoubtedly the most disturbing Jack had ever endured in his entire life, and it was all due to one simple fact that, if erased, would have made the cruise quite an enjoyable one: Flavio was attracted to him. He couldn't exactly blame the Italian, of course—he was, after all, only human—but must the pirate be so—brazen in his doings? Take only yesterday morning, for example, when Flavio had somehow gotten himself tangled in the rigging:
"Jack! Jaaaack!" The pleading summon was a cross between a female's scream and a squirrel's mating call (if squirrels had such rituals). It made Jack's skin crawl, and he looked desperately around the deck to see if anyone else would answer the deluded pirate's call. But the name "Jack", you see, so common a forename, so frequent in the names of the most notorious of piratical personages, seen so often in gambling dens; the name "Jack" was, in spite of all of the aforementioned arguments, was very, very rare on the Black Pearl.
He knew he should have chosen "James Sparrow" as his pseudonym, but no; out of all the traditions, all the clichés, all the conventions Jack could have picked, he just had to choose the name, didn't he? Everything else about him certainly wasn't necessarily piratical. Or stereotypical, for that matter…
"Jack!" The beginnings of a hysterical sob were slowly manifesting itself in the painted pirate's beseeching tone. "Jack, I'm stuck!"
It was my crew's fault, really, Jack consoled himself, refusing to acknowledge how the Italian sailor was now twisting himself so he was partly free and partly hanging upside down with a hand pressing the all-important hat and wig to his skull. They should have chosen to call themselves "Jack" so that I'm not the only one…
"Help me, Jack!"
"Um, Jack?" Bill questioned, having now finished his unnecessarily complex knot and standing beside his captain at the tiller. He pointed towards the cause of such disturbance hesitantly.
"Jackie!" The captain visibly winced.
Bootstrap raised an eyebrow. "I think you should go to him—"
"NO!" Sparrow protested quickly. "No, it's perfectly all right…"
"Jackie!"
Bootstrap surveyed the amused glances shot in his companion's general direction with disinterest. "Are you sure you don't—"
"I'm good here, thanks."
"Jackie! Jack! Jackie!" If Flavio had actually been the beautiful attractive woman he thought he was, Jack wouldn't have minded the screaming out of his name quite so much…
"Jackia!" As it was, he wasn't—Jackia? That was a new one…
Frowning, the tanned brunet that was currently the centre of Flavio's latest fantasies turned to face his elder, a confused frown lighting his features. "Did he just call me 'Jackia'?"
"Aye, my son; I believe he did," Bill nodded solemnly. Then, struck with a sudden, most brilliant of brainwaves: "But if you're not sure, you can always go up and ask—"
"Bootstrap, I am not about to go climbing up the rigging and risk adding to the rumours about me currently circulating the crew—"
"What rumours?"
"Those rumours," Jack confided cautiously, nodding his head knowingly in a confidential manner. At Bill's furrowed brows, he chivalrously clarified the matter for him. "You know; those rumours…"
"Jaaackiiiaaaa!"
Turner shook his head, completely at a loss.
"Those rumours? You know…"
"Not really," Turner the elder confessed.
"Jaaaaack!"
"The rumours…?"
"Sparrow, who on earth would be so pathetic as to invent rumours about you, of all potential candidates? Now, for the absolutely last time, what rumours?"
"Oh, come now, Bill, you know those rumours I'm talking about… You do, don't you?"
"Jackie!"
"No, Sparrow, I must confess I don't," Bootstrap broke gently to him.
If Jack hadn't possessed as much dignity as he did, he would have fallen to the tainted wooden deck in shock. "You don't know! How can you not know?"
"…Jackie-kins?" Evidently, Flavio was now trying another approach. "Jack!"
"Well, I'm very sorry to tell you this, my comb-lacking friend—" Jack's free hand immediately went to defensively caress the insulted locks, a hurt, offended expression on his features "—but I've better things to do than follow the completely inaccurate and most likely fabricated tales of you and your latest endeavours."
"Jack!"
"Those rumours that have started since Flavio came aboard," Jack reluctantly divulged, looking Bill meaningfully in the eye. "About me. And him. And me… And… and men in general…"
"Oh," Bill digested, exhaling in relief. "Those. Fear not, my paranoid friend; they've been going on for as long as I can remember."
"What!"
"It's a fact," Bill confirmed. "Really, it's more about you as a person than it is about the company that you keep; you just naturally give off that impression, my friend…"
Jack just gaped at his friend in shock. "So you did know?" he asked, sounding hurt.
"Everybody knows, Jack; they've discussed you quite a few times in Turkey…"
"Jack, please!"
"So you may as well go and save him, then," Bill encouraged, prying Sparrow's long fingers from the wheel and gripping the spokes in his place. "It won't damage your already… tainted reputation, sir."
"But—"
"Jack, I'm dying!"
"Do you hear that?" Bill accused. "Flavio's dying because of you!"
"But—But—But—But I don't want to!" Jack whined, sounding incredibly like a pampered five-year-old.
"Yes, and I wasn't particularly fond of squeezing myself into a corset either, but I did so for you, didn't I?"
"…Are you ever going to let that go?"
"No," Bill firmly rejected. "Now go rescue your fair damsel in distress, Sparrow."
With a dark scowl and a slow reluctance not even a snail could match, Jack relented, before suddenly turning back to face his companion wide-eyed, shaking his head violently.
"I can't climb up the rigging!" he exclaimed.
Bootstrap merely rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Why, have you forgotten how?"
"Of course not!" Jack responded sharply. "But I can't climb up it!"
"Why the bloody hell not?"
"Because my arse will be on display for the whole ship to see, that's bloody why!"
Bootstrap raised one dark eyebrow, tilting his head suspiciously to the side. "I had no idea you had such serious body-conscious issues. Your point being…?"
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, my dear friend from beyond the grave, there are certain… individuals, shall we say, on the ship, who… swing my way…"
"There's only one individual on this whole boat who's even remotely attracted to you, Jack, and he's currently caught in the rigging, awaiting your assistance."
"All the more reason for him to stay there, don't you find?"
"Jack…"
"Fine… I'll go and save the life of that poor deluded sodomite…"
"Good boy," Bill commended approvingly.
Flavio offered Jack a sheepish smile when the conned captain was finally face to face with the Italian pirate. "Thank God you came, mio amore…"
"That's it," Jack muttered, immediately starting back down. A hand instantly fisted his shirt, prohibiting him from moving further. "Oh, bollocks…"
"Don't leave me here!" Flavio begged, trembling precariously. "I'm too young to die!"
"Flavio, you're not going to die…" Jack soothed.
"Is it true that you see a white light before you die?" he continued hysterically.
"How the hell would I know!"
"Jack, I'm seeing a blindingly bright circle of white light right now!"
The pirate turned his head to follow Flavio's gaze, and immediately winced, snapping his eyes firmly shut. "It's called the sun, Flavio…"
"Help me!" And with that, Flavio had swiftly disentangled himself from the ropes and wrapped his limbs around Jack, burying his face in the pirate's shoulder.
"I knew this was a trap!"
"Jackie, I'm scared… Hold me?"
"HELL NO!" And with this one last exclamation, Jack pushed the bluffing pirate away from him. And he would have succeeded, had he remembered that Flavio's legs were wrapped firmly around his own body, causing the trapped captain's sword and compass to dig painfully into his leg and hip as a result of the instinctive push.
"Well, I'm not sure about you, mio bello capitano, but I'm feeling extremely comfortable…" Flavio whispered mischievously, blue eyes sparkling in amusement. "We should make this a regular occurrence…"
"Get your legs off of me, you delusional—"
"Be very careful about your choice of wording here, Sparrow," Flavio warned, the playful tone immediately evanescing. "In case you don't remember, I am the one that has the upper hand in this situation: I've the scroll, and I've the mythology associated with the treasure we're all so desperately seeking hammered into my memory, you see?"
"Do you have the scroll with you right now?" Jack asked innocently, a cunning plan beginning to formulate within his mind.
"Of course; I carry it with me always—it wouldn't do if I just left the pretty thing in my cabin for just anybody to come in and steal, now, would it?"
"So you have it with you right now?"
"What do you think is digging into your stomach at this very moment in time, Jackie? Or did you really think I was that glad to see you?"
"…Um…"
Flavio dropped his demi-threat immediately, tilting his head the better to implore Jack's compassion. "Can you please carry me down?" he asked in a tone that sounded disturbingly like that of a manipulative wench's. And, alarmingly enough, Jack found that it had much the same effect.
That didn't bode well…
"No! Get off me!"
"Please?"
"Flavio, I'm warning you—"
"But I'll be oh so very grateful…"
"No!"
And so it continued, until eventually, after a half-hour or so of bickering, (during the course of which Flavio was almost reduced to the brink of tears no less than seventeen times) Bootstrap, at long last growing bored of the show, handed the wheel to Anamaria, climbed up the ropes, hooked an arm around Flavio's waist, slung him easily over his shoulder, and climbed back down again. Flavio, quite understandably, threw himself at Bill in a warm embrace as soon as both returned to the relative safety of the deck with declarations of eternal gratitude whilst pouting in Jack's general direction.
"You—" And with one stinging slap that was so powerful it caused Jack's very own beads to smack him in the face, Flavio had spun on his heel and theatrically stamped down the stairs into his cabin, bleating in shrill Italian—or something that sounded remarkably like it.
"Bootstrap, why?" Jack whined, palm gingerly rubbing the twice-abused cheek.
"…Because we want treasure?" Bill tried in a small voice, sheepishly avoiding his gaze.
"No, I meant why? Why me? What makes him think he'll have a chance with me?"
Bootstrap looked from Jack's kohl-rimmed eyes to his pink-tinged sash to his pouting lips whilst images of Jack's womanly swagger flashed across his vision. "I've no idea how you give off that impression," he lied. And he swiftly left a confused-looking Jack in order to participate in a nautical conversation with Gibbs, not because he wished to avoid any awkward questions concerning Jack's sexuality. No, not at all; on the contrary, Bootstrap had always harboured an interest in… fraying ropes.
Sad but true.
And ever since the incident concerning the Italian's entanglement of the rigging of only yesterday morn, Jack had been… well, distracted, to say the least. Needless to say, the practically molested pirate captain was living in constant fear of rape, (he was actually taking care to not exceed the recommended amount of rum, for once) and was counting the seconds until their arrival at Port Royal.
…He hoped a certain pretty blacksmith would provide some distraction from his undeniably heavenly features…
VagrantCandy: I really don't know… Fear of offending anyone by using a real name? It was meant to be… humourous…
Jess: I have already answered your query. You are a terrible beta-reader but an excellent musey… Don't bother pouting, I haven't even said corset yet; besides, it's a sad but true fact of life, Jessie…
zareen: I loved the cat part; I think it was actually part of a quote I twisted for my own twisted ends, but I don't know who… Is Flavio quirkier in this chapter? I love that guy, I'm so glad I invented him…