Author's Note: Yay, my first foray into a new fandom! I'm so excited! Anyway, I decided to do this one-shot after seeing Dead Man's Chest. You know, just for random pirate reasons. And there will be NO original characters, NO love triangles, NO taking up where Dead Man's Chest left off, and most importantly, NO Sparrow snacking by large, slimy sea beasties! Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney, and I'm pretty sure Johnny Depp owns the character Jack Sparrow. Also, the idea for this story was based off a single page of doujinshi by the circle Parsifal I once saw and loved.
For Your Info: This story takes place during Curse of the Black Pearl, when Will and Jack are sailing for Tortuga on the Interceptor. Something had to pass the time, didn't it? And no, this is not a yaoi. It's not even shonen-ai. Check the rating if you don't believe me.
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The blazing Caribbean sun beat down on the lone vessel, its prow cutting briskly through the waves. Endless crystal blue waters stretched for miles in every direction. A few seagulls were crying, wheeling and circling lazily overhead.
William Turner sat in a small patch of shade under the mast.
For what seemed like the first time since they had left Port Royal, Jack was not yelling for him to adjust the lines, see to the rigging, or fetch anything ("More rum!") from below, and the young blacksmith was taking full advantage of the respite to rest for a bit.
Will wiped a sleeve across his forehead. Even in the shade it was hot. He had presumed that it would be cooler on the open ocean, but even with the breeze that filled their sails it still felt to be nearly eighty degrees, and humid. He wondered how Jack could stand it.
The pirate was leaned unconcernedly against the railing, playing with his compass. Even though the instrument was broken he still flipped it back and forth, opened and closed the lid, tipped it upside down and righted it again. It was almost as if, by worrying with it, he could make the thing point where he wanted it to.
Will dismissed the thought. He had other things on his mind.
The first of those things was, as usual, Elizabeth. He didn't want to dwell on what might be happening to her among Barbossa's wild crew of the un-dead, however, so he decided to focus instead on the second.
How was Jack Sparrow not overheating?
Whereas Will was down to boots, trousers, and a light, simple cotton shirt to combat the heat, Jack was still fully clothed. Despite the brutal sun scorching the deck of the Interceptor, the pirate still wore his entire ensemble of coat, vest, shirt, myriad sashes and belts, high boots and tricorn hat. He looked perfectly comfortable.
Is he even sweating? Will thought curiously. Or is it just possible that all the dirt and salt and dried sweat he's already got on him is keeping him cool?
He shuddered at the thought. That was simply disgusting. Frowning, he studied the pirate with a critical eye.
When was the last time the man had washed? Did Will really want to come courageously rushing to Elizabeth's rescue only to have her then confined on a ship with a dirty, unwashed pirate who had a penchant for invading your personal space?
Will thought not.
Well, in that case there was only thing left to do.
He would have to persuade Captain Jack Sparrow... to bathe.
His mind made up, William Turner left his bit of shade and headed below. There was a wash tub down there, he knew, that would suit the purpose. As they were almost to the island of Tortuga and did not yet have to worry about conserving fresh water, he had used it himself the night before.
The Interceptor had been made ready to sail before they had commandeered it, so there were also soaps, shampoos, powders, hair oils, brushes and combs and various other personal hygiene products of highest quality aboard for use by the Port Royal navy. Now, if he could only get Jack to use them...
Concluding that what was to come would be an all-out ordeal even with the pirate's cooperation, Will hauled the tub up on deck. It would be much easier to clean up afterwards.
He could feel Jack eyeing him curiously as he worked, but decided to ignore the inquisitive gaze for the time being. It would be better if Jack didn't know what was in store for him until the bath was immanent. That way he would have less time to protest.
Leaving the tub in the middle of the deck, Will once again disappeared below and emerged a minute later with a second tub. He planned to scrub the pirate's clothing in it, as a bath would do no one any good without clean clothes to put on after it. He seriously doubted Jack would be willing to don a spare navy uniform while his clothes were being cleaned.
Several more times Will went below, each time coming up with some different object. When three buckets, a pile of linen towels, some wash cloths, a box of soap flakes, and a basket of shampoo bottles had been placed next to the tubs, he began to fill the bath from the large barrel of water in the corner by the cabin. Everything was almost ready.
"Alright lad," Jack said at last as Will began stirring bubble bath into the water. "I'll nibble the bait. Why are ye goin' ta take a soak on deck?"
"I'm not," Will said calmly.
"Then what exactly, if ye don't mind me askin', is all the bathy, bubbly, washy for?"
"Well, it's for you, Jack."
The pirate raised an eyebrow as Will ceremoniously placed a rubber duck on top of the soapy water. "I'm not quite sure I follow."
Will wiped his wet hands on a towel and smiled, knowing he had to be very careful with his next words. "Well, Jack, I just thought that since we are almost to Tortuga you might want to... freshen up a bit."
Jack narrowed his gaze on the young blacksmith. The boy looked entirely serious. "'Ave ye been out in the sun too long, lad?"
"Not at all. I just thought it might do well to get you... cleaned up. You know, to make a good impression on any potential crew members."
Now Jack knew the boy was mad. Of course Will was used to rather higher society than the denizens of Tortuga would prove, but surely he could be under no false illusions that they cared whether or not a potential captain had recently washed.
"Somethin' tells me any crew I hire might care a bit more about 'ow much rum we have aboard than me state o' cleanliness."
Will frowned. This wasn't working. Maybe he could appeal to the pirate's apparent vanity. "But don't you want to look your best, Jack?"
Seeming startled, Jack placed both hands on his chest and glanced down at himself. Reassured, he gave Will a puzzled look. "I look fine."
"Jack..." Will began helplessly. It appeared he was going to have to be blunt. "I know that you might think your present condition is acceptable, but..."
Jack stared at him, wearing a confused expression, waiting for him to elaborate.
"Has it occurred to you that when we... rescue Elizabeth... you will be, for several days, in the presence of a lady of good breeding and highest society? Do you understand that, after her horrible ordeal, I'd like to provide her with a pleasant, odor-free atmosphere?"
Jack still looked confused. "Well, I suppose I hadn't thought that far ahead, but yes, I can understand that. Why d' ye ask?"
"Don't you want to be as presentable as possible?" Will pressed. "As clean as possible?"
The pirate cocked his head and raised a brow. Obviously he just didn't get it.
"Jack, you offend!" Will burst out. "You smell bad!"
Jack blinked. "So what's your point, lad?"
"Jack, you're filthy! You stink! You need to take a bath!" There, he'd said it. He'd been blunt; he'd told the hard truth. It had been rude, perhaps, but necessary. Surely now the chastened captain would meekly submit to the tub, and...
Jack began to saunter off.
"Thank you, Master Turner, for voicing your opinions." He waved a hand flippantly at the stunned smith, returning to the railing as if the discussion were over. "They have been duly noted. Now, if ye'll kindly es'cuse me, I have... er... a heading to take. Or something."
Will could not believe it. He had just basically told the man that his body odor was enough to drop a rat at thirty paces and been ignored. "Jack, have you no shame? No pride in yourself? Jack!"
"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest," Jack hummed. He was playing with the compass again.
"Jack Sparrow, don't you dare ignore me!"
"...yo ho ho! and a bottle of rum..."
"You'll get to play with the ducky," Will wheedled, giving the squeak toy a squeeze. "Huh? Huh?"
No response from Jack. Not that Will had actually expected the duck to be the deciding factor that made Jack jump happily into the tub, but still... Alright. It looked like he was going to have to do this the hard way.
Will gave Jack's lanky figure a cursory scan. Unusually, and luckily for Will, he wasn't carrying his sword. The gun with the one bullet was present as always, but Will highly doubted the pirate would want to waste such a significant piece of ammunition just to avoid a bath.
Good. The time was ripe. Operation "Sparrow Scrub" was about to begin.
Without preamble the irritated smith stalked up behind the pirate and tapped him firmly on the shoulder.
"Can I help ye, Master Turn—eeeek!" Jack let out a high-pitched scream as Will seized his coat and forcibly pulled it from his shoulders. "William, what do you think you're doing?!"
Will didn't answer. Without pause he smoothly tossed the coat backwards over his shoulder to land in the laundry tub, then proceeded with the vest.
"William, I demand an explanation for—avast, whelp, not me hat!"
"Trust me, Jack, this is for your own good!"
Vest and hat soared into the soapy water. However, as Will latched onto his shirt with a very determined set to his jaw, Jack began to get a bit concerned. "Yipe! William, ye let go 'o that now, it doesn't belong to you! No! Not the—EYAAH! Alright, the Captain's trousers are officially off limits!"
That was apparently the last straw. Jack broke and ran for it, leaving Will with two shirt buttons and the long sash from the pirate's waist. A good start, overall. Dropping the sash into the tub with the other soiled items, Will added a liberal dash of soap flakes and began to stir them with the laundry stick he'd found in the hold.
"What are ye doin' to me things?!" Jack yelled in dismay, watching his clothes swirling in the tub. The water was rapidly turning brown.
"As you can see, I am washing them," Will said, industriously pounding and stirring away with the pole. "And it is obviously far overdue!"
"They're ruined!" the captain wailed. "Ye've washed out all the support! Now they won't fit right!"
"Support? Jack, let's be serious. Your coat was so full of filth it could have stood on its own. Care to add the rest?"
Jack's hands flew protectively to the front of his pants. "You're mad!"
"Not yet, but I shall be if you insist on behaving so foolishly! All I request is that you take a bath and clean yourself up! That also includes clothing and hair, by the way."
Hands cautiously covering the beaded braids and tangles on either side of his face, Jack began to edge away. "The whelp's gone sun-mad... sword, sword, where did I leave me sword...?"
"This ship isn't that big, Jack. I'll get you, sooner or later. You could just give up now and make it easier for the both of us..." Will glanced up from the laundry. No good. Jack was already gone. "Alright, so we'll play hide and seek."
O.O.O.O.O
Jack was crouched in the bow, just behind the mizenmast. He cautiously peeked out, scanning the deck for any sign of his pursuer. Will was nowhere to be seen. Satisfied, Jack inched out into the open.
"Hi-yah!"
Jack let out a squeal and made a mad scamper down the steps to the deck as a bucketful of soapy water came flying up at him from the doorway to the cabin. It splashed harmlessly off the railing.
"Come on, whelp, you can do better than that!" he yelled, disappearing below.
Will frowned and went to refill his bucket. He would have to remember not to announce his toss with a yell. Silently, he followed the pirate down into the vessel's hull.
O.O.O.O.O
The ship made its way silently through the sea, sails creaking slightly in the wind. There was not a soul to be seen on deck or in the rigging.
A seagull, lured by the empty appearance of the ship, flew down to investigate. Maybe there was something edible to be had here. Circling the hull, it spied an open porthole and came in for a landing.
The gull managed one startled squawk as it was washed violently backward off the sill by an errant splash of water and bubbles.
Inside the small room Jack jumped and dodged, effectively evading the smith's determined grasp. Getting a run on it he splashed into a puddle of the spilled water and slid between Will's spread legs to freedom. "Close, but not quite, lad!" he caroled, skipping off down the hall.
Will growled in annoyance and stomped after him.
O.O.O.O.O
Jack stood near the ship's wheel, peering out through his spyglass. If the weather remained fair and the wind right, they would reach the port of Tortuga by nightfall. Nodding in satisfaction, the captain moved to adjust the brace on the wheel.
A great gout of water came pouring down immediately where Jack had been standing.
"Nice try, William!"
Up in the crows' nest Will snapped his fingers and stomped a foot in frustration. "Curses!"
O.O.O.O.O
Evening shadows were lengthening across the waves. In the east, the sky had turned a deep violet. In the west, the sunset was still burning vivid pink, orange and gold. The undersides of the clouds had taken on a bright red hue.
Will had strategically hidden himself in the stern.
Fourteen attempts to wash Jack, or at least get the man wet, and every one had failed. This time would be the last time, Will vowed. If this last plan, elaborately forged as one of his swords from the smithy, failed... well, he would take it as a sign that Captain Jack Sparrow was meant to be dirty and just leave it at that.
Jack was approaching now. Will waited with bated breath. In moments, the pirate had come to the edge of the enormous area of slippery soap and water that spanned the breadth of the deck.
Jack glanced down just as his boot was about to land on a bar of the soap. He considered the tub of water placed in the middle of the mess and the trail of soap bars leading up to it. Then, with a wicked grin, he lifted his foot and replaced it beyond the wet wood. Still smiling broadly, he started to back away from what was obviously a trap.
"Sorry, lad," he called loudly, spreading his arms wide. "Ol' Jack's been around the block once too oft'n to fall fer such a simple trick. But rest assured, dear William..." he turned and began to walk smugly away. "...ye'll always remember this as the day you almost washed Captain Jack Sparrow-whoa!"
Precisely as planned, he had stepped right into the circle of rope spread out near the mainmast. The circle closed in an instant, gripping Jack's ankle and shooting upwards. Screaming frantically as he was whisked up and over the crossbars of the main lower topsail, the pirate was plunged unceremoniously into the second wash tub.
In seconds Will was upon him, wielding a soaped washcloth in one hand and a loofa in the other. In quick, efficient motions he had divested his captive of boots, shirt and trousers and gone at the dirt underneath with a vengeance.
Jack thrashed and flailed accordingly, sending water to all points of the compass and a few more besides.
"Rape!" he screamed hysterically, trying to escape the slippery tub. "Murder! Soap in me eyes!"
"Hold still, Jack," Will threatened grimly, shaking wet bangs out of his eyes. "It will all be over soon enough if you cooperate."
In reality, Jack showed no signs of cooperation, and the forced bath took the better part of an hour. By the time "Sparrow Scrub" was completed to Will's satisfaction, Jack was reasonably cleaner and what little water remained in the tub was opaque with filth.
Throwing a last bucket of rinse water over the pirate's head, Will let him go.
Jack scrambled for a moment before snatching up a clean towel to wrap firmly around his middle. He looked frantically for his clothes, but belatedly realized that they were still in the laundry tub. Glaring daggers at the equally soaked blacksmith, he finally huddled down by the railing looking mutinous.
"Oh, ye'll pay fer that one, whelp!" he growled. "Don't think ye won't! One day, when ye least expect it, I'll have me revenge–! Oh, look." A pleased expression immediately crossed his significantly less dirty features. "Tortuga. We're here!"
Will glanced up from wringing out the washcloth. It was true. The island of Tortuga was just visible in the fading light. They were that much closer to rescuing Elizabeth.
With a weary sigh, Will went to dump the tub.
He was halfway to the railing when he stepped on one of the soap bars. Sliding forward several paces, Will pitched headfirst into the tub.
"William, furl the sails!" Jack was apparently recovered and right back to giving orders, holding his towel up with one hand and the compass with the other. "Hurry up and clean me clothes, I can't dock in Tortuga in me skivvies! And for the love o' the sea, bring up some more rum! ... Eh... William?"
Will lifted his head from the tub, dripping dirty water everywhere. "Yes, Captain?"
Jack did a double take. "William, ye're absolutely filthy! Ye'd better move yerself and tidy up. Hop to it, now!"
With a stifled sob, Will collapsed back into the tub. This was going to be a long voyage...
O.O.O.O.O
The End
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(2nd) Author's Note: Hehe, just a little something to pass the time between stories. Hope you enjoyed it, mates!