Disclaimer: Very long chapter and very racy scene. And I mean racy, people, so…if you don't like steam don't get in the sauna. Okay, shiny, let's do this thingy.
(JACK'S POV)
If he would 'ave thought such a thing possible, he would have said the Devil's own temper was fueling his hard strides and thundering heartbeat as he neared to the lass.
It wasn't that he was jealous…No, this was pure unbridled rage. The gel was his! Had been for some time now, even if he laxed in his attentions from time to time. All the same, she still belonged to HIM, was still HIS. And god help anyone who took it upon themselves to touch her! She was still his.
And then there she was, but a few feet off. Her movements were serpent like and dangerous in an indefinably seductive way, as her body swayed delectably, one with the haunting melody that filled the hall. He was almost unsure that this sensual coquette was even someone he knew, let alone his bonny lass.
But there could be no doubt that it was she, the minx, as she turned and caught sight of him, her lips parted in surprise…as a smile suddenly broke across her face.
"Hey, Jack!" She exclaimed, waving him closer.
Prowling nearer, he never took his eyes off the boy by her side. The cheeky litt'l bugger 'ad 'is 'ands all over 'er. His arm was wrapped around her waist, fingers stroking the piece of fabric where the over bodice and dress met. A dull ringing shrilled in the pirate's ears as he finally found himself next to the merry couple.
The lass's expectant grin fell as she noticed the look of malcontent he was shooting at the lad, "Jack?" She peered at him unsure, "Ben this is Jack. Jack, Ben. Ben was an old friend of mine, Jack. We went to school together."
Friend? He'd give them "Friend". The boy extended his hand but Jack was in no mood for polite exchanges. Not now. Not when the fiend was drooling all over her.
The lad, irked by Jack's unresponsive nature, lowered his hand in defeat and made the worst mistake o' his entire life. He pulled the lass closer to him.
"So…Jack, is there anything we can do for you?"
Oh the litt'l lad 'ad some bollocks…
Jack ushered the words coldly to the boy, barely maintaining his reign of control, so as ta make it perfectly clear, "Ye can get yer fuckin' 'ands off me gel, before ye force me ta painfully incapacitate yer face, savvy?"
The lass's features twisted into a look of contempt, and Jack could just envision the heated things which she'd burn his ear off for 'aving said that. She took a step away from the young man looking mad enough to send any wise man running. But the boy spoke up again, doing the second foolish thing he'd done the entire night within the span of a minute.
"She doesn't BELONG to anybody." The boy, Ben spoke with conviction, pushing Jack back with a few fingers, "Now, if you're through…we were dancing…"
"You heard him, Sparrow," The lass echoed, "We…OH MY GOD!"
The scream ripped through him. She needn't have bothered with such an exclamation as the boy was on his arse sporting a bloody nose before he'd ever finished his sentence.
"WHAT do you THINK you're DOING!" The lass was pulling at his arm, to pull him away from hurting the lad further.
Jack shook his fist, dispelling the slight ache he always received from doling out such a blow, and watched her with narrowed eyes as she scampered to the boy's side, checking his pulse.
He was out cold.
Her face titled up to his, her mouth open in that irritating, annoying, utterly bewitching fashion he had grown so accustomed to.
"Have you totally and completely LOST your MIND?" She asked forcefully, the timber of her voice vibrating with anger.
Jack simply stood there as the red gradually cleared from his vision.
With a huff of disgust, she rose to her feet, snatching up her purse and jacket, "That's it. I've had just about enough of you, Sparrow. Now, I have to go get a bouncer to help him up. Just stay away from me, Sparrow…I…HEY! Hey, what are you doing? Let go of me! GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME, YOU RETARDED BUCANEER! Get off! Get the freak off…"
Herding her firmly into a darkened, secluded corridor near the lavatories he tossed her unceremoniously against a neighboring.
"OW! YOU BASTARD!" She shouted, little hand swinging to catch him on the right shoulder, sending him back a step, "You complete bastard! Why did you hit him!" She spat.
"Why were ye dancin' like tha'!" He rounded on her, snarling.
"Not that it's any of your business, but because I FELT like it, jackass! Now, why did you hit him?"
"He touched me." Jack growled, his eyes smoldering into the walls. To hell with her if she thought he would admit to jealousy.
"That's no excuse!" The lass argued back fervently, taking a furious step forward. Toward him. Not a good idea, Jack admitted to himself. He was in a black mood and a foul disposition on top of that. The gel was doing something very dangerous indeed.
"Do you hear me?" She repeated loudly, "It's no excu…"
"He touched ye!" He roared, seizing her shoulders in a savage, bone crushing grip, "The Devil damn 'im, he touched ye!"
He released her just as suddenly, and she staggered back in shock, her back hitting the wall. The lass actually had the decency to look speechless. She redirected her gaze, almost as if she were hesitant to look at him. He hadn't seen her this flustered since the day he had first kissed her…on that bloody island. God help her if she blushed now…he would not be held responsible.
Her fidgety, nervous fingers sought to tuck a wayward strand behind her ear to no avail. A desperately charming motion, Jack found his eyes hypnotized by her hands as they dallied anxiously around the base of her neck in distress.
"So he touched me…it was harmless, Jack…" She stuttered.
Jack's brow rose in minute fascination. Had he actually succeeded in makin' the poor child go dumb?
It seemed like it until the lass heard herself speak. Squinting her eyes as if confused, she violently shook herself out of it.
"Wait one collar-pickin' minute, chump!" She started, snapping back into her usual disagreeable manner, "If I let someone touch me it is my own goddamn business…It's no concern of yours if I decide to get jiggy with it on the dance floor with a member of the opposite sex (if I so choose.) Or to make it in the little girl's room…!"
He didn't want to hear this, hear these things from her, his pride already affronted from the knowledge that she had other men already waiting on her list. She was supposed to be madly in love with HIM, damn it…he would have settled for wild with lust but…Blood o' the Charted Stars…! If he had to stand here and listen to all her fantasized exploits with other men (usually something he would have twisted to suit his own purposes) he could very possibly end up hurting her.
"If I want to give a guy a lap dance with nothing on but my skimpys," She railed at him, "that still doesn't give you doesn't give you the right to do what you did!"
Jack tried to calm his pulse through will of mind.
"You can't do things like that, Sparrow! You just can't!"
His fingers were digging into his palm as his fists uncontrollably curled at his sides. He really should stop her before she ended up makin' 'im do something they would both regret.
"So listen up and get this into your warped medieval mind frame: I…A…NOT…YOUR…PROPERTY. You can't control me. You CAN'T!"
The reign of his well maintained control slipped at those words.
"The bloody hell I can't!" He bellowed vehemently.
It was only after a stinging slap had landed the side of his face, did he realize he had pinned the gel harshly to the wall. He hadn't even been aware of having moved. An' bollocks his cheek smarted! She 'ad slapped 'im, the crazy wench! He would strangle her with his bare hands..!
"Get a grip…" She uttered coldly.
Strangle 'er!
"…and get off me, Sparrow…"
Strangle the infuriating shrew!
"…I don't need you to play Dad just because I don't have one."
Oddly enough his hands wanted to do something entirely different than wrapping around that lithe neck of hers. He made up his mind then.
"Trust me, lass…platonic fatherly inclinations are the farthest from me mind righ' now…"
It had come to this then. It was not in his nature to deny what was so desiringly in front of him. She had said too much, done too much, and had pushed him too far this time, and if she tried to put a halt to the proceedings she would have to use his own pistol against him. He had reached the end of his patience. He was tired of waiting.
(RACHEL'S POV)
Shit! My hand hurt!
I had slapped him!
And not a friendly sharp tap either, no sir, I mean really slapped him! I had actually put muster into it. Oooooh, Jack was going to STRANGLE me! I mean you don't just pull back with all your might and go, "POW, FUCKA!" to Jack. It just isn't done. Unless your name happened to be Rachel and you were standing where I was right now.
I should have been cringing in horror at what I had just done, but my mind just kept going back to that moment, that pivotal moment, when Jack had pulled back and punched Ben. I had had one chance, COUNT 'EM: ONE, at normality, at a chance of…HELL…a REAL date, and then Sparrow's fist had ruined any hope of that for me. So all I had left in me to feel was anger. No fear at all, just anger.
"Get a grip…"
Whoah, did those words just come out of my mouth?
"…and get off me, Sparrow…"
It was like…like watching a beautiful, horrible head on collision, or a train wreck. I was speaking without thinking and I knew it, but somehow…I couldn't stop. I couldn't seem to find the brakes, and I was plowing ahead with no regard for whose pride I might hurt. And even though I knew it was happening, I still couldn't stop. I don't think I wanted to.
I knew why I was saying all this, the emotions behind the words, the reasoning; I was humiliated by Jack's earlier display, disheartened by his wandering affections, furious with his possession over me, and perplexed to tears by my inability to let him go even when I knew he was not what I needed. Not what a nice girl like me needed to fall in love with. And I had been doing well, but then…then…!
He pulled this on me! Pulled me back in! It wasn't fair and I wasn't going to have it anymore. No way, no how.
And that was what I was trying to convey to him in this one sentence. I wanted…no, NEEDED to say these things…and he needed to hear them just as badly.
"…I don't need you to play Dad just because I don't have one."
My voice had almost cracked under the strain of such an evil retort, but I pushed it out with conviction despite it and it didn't waver.
And then…I don't know how to properly describe it but…a terrifying calm seemed to replace his frustration in every bone…and he went still…an unearthly stillness that should have warned me…
"Trust me, lass…platonic fatherly inclination are the farthest from me mind righ' now…"
And just like that I knew I had gone past some boundary. I was on dangerous territory. There was no tone of playfulness to his speech. No merry twinkle to promise laughter at the insinuation, no; just the dilated swelling darkness of his eyes to tell me he was not playing games. He was as serious as a heart attack.
I pushed on, determined not to give an inch just because I was starting to feel vaguely uneasy.
"Use those inclinations on the brunette, Sparrow. I'm out." I moved forward to push past him, but he followed quickly step for step (like he had fighting swords with Turner in the first movie) and I found him blocking me.
"Move." I ordered, becoming increasingly more nervous, but trying not to show it.
The expanding black seemed to fill up his eyes until nothing familiar peeked through. Whatever this was, it was a part of Jack I had never witnessed or been exposed to in my time with him.
I moved to the right this time, my own personal blockade was there to intercept my departure.
I had never been truly frightened of Sparrow, not really. But now…I shivered as a chill of alarm trailed over my shoulders…now I was, and I knew what I had to do.
Gazing down on him fiercely, I stuck out my chin determinedly and…I ran.
I ducked through the swinging door into the girl's room that had been behind me the entire time.
Sanctuary…
Cowardly, but safe, none the less.
Two pretty girls looked up as I entered flustered, lipsticks half applying their wonders to their faces.
I dimly remember hearing the door swing open and shut behind me. The two girls began to whisper excitedly behind their hands, giggling.
Wincing and groaning internally, I glanced back sharply to conclude that my suspicions had been all too correct.
Jack had followed me in. He had walked full tilt into a ladies room, despite the more than obvious female warning (a stick person with skirt) on the door.
He took no notice of the fawning females ( who had obviously mistaken him for Depp, not that hard to do, but let me tell you JD would never be caught dead in a bathroom with me that's for gorram sure, I mean think about it logically… where is Vanessa Pardis, use your minds girls! Strive to be smart! It's not Johnny Depp. So stop giggling and call a bouncer to get him out of here! Such were my thought at the time)….Let's start over…He took no notice of the fawning females except to husk one word very plainly:
"Out."
Smiles dropping from their faces they collected their things. Whatever feeling was emitting from the pirate before me, they must have gotten some signal from it as well, because with no complaint or loud protests they hurried from the vicinity, make-up completion half achieved.
I realized then for the second time that week, I was trapped alone with Sparrow in a bathroom.
I couldn't move and even if I could, where would I go? I wouldn't ever be fast or strong enough to elude Jack. I couldn't move, and I couldn't leave…so I stood ridgedly as I waited for him to say something, do something.
I waited so long my heart almost gave out as he began an intimidating gait toward me, and each step sent me shaking. I had to lock my knees together to keep from crumbling to the floor, in a mindless, helpless heap.
The situation had spun completely out of my control. One moment I had been absolutely adamant and strong, the next I had lost my footing. How? How? Where had I slipped…This situation was so beyond me, beyond what I was capable of handling, what I was prepared for, what I was expecting…
He came to stand directly in front of me. And did nothing. He just STOOD there…and was alive…was there…just WAS. All he did was convert oxygen to carbon dioxide and it was enough to unravel me. I couldn't take this. I knew I couldn't.
The anxiety driving the insanity in my nervous system, little by little calmed, when all he would do is stand and stare.
I reluctantly let my guard drop.
At exactly the wrong moment.
I couldn't help but gasp in surprise as he ripped my jacket (which I was clutching desperately) from my hands and tossed it on the floor.
I only made it half a step back before his hand flashed out, grabbed my arm tightly and tugged me sharply, bringing me hard against him; the other arm snaking crushingly around my waist (something I hadn't really thought possible) and then he was kissing me before I could give a shout.
I had been kissed before. Jack had kissed me before, but not like this. Never like this…
This was different. He wasn't giving me a chance to refuse, to breathe. It was like nothing I had ever experienced…smothering and…and…I couldn't put a name to it. I pulled back long enough to let out a strangled, "Sparrow…" before he brought the hand that had seized my arm, and wrapped it bruisingly around my neck; cradling it at the exact point where it met the bone of my skull, the rough pads of his fingers burying into my hair and massaging me into a Como stasis. I think I might have made some other noise. I can't remember what it was though.
I wasn't until my lower back hit the sink counter, that I realized Jack had steered my in that direction. The jolt broke us apart with a grunt, lip wise…hip region…he still had me pressed entirely too close. Both hands now gripped my waist in a very dominating way, as Sparrow began to suck greedily on the area directly to the right and below my chin. My head had tilted back without my will of moving it so.
I had to think. I had to think before this went too far. It had already gone further than it should have.
"…Sp…Sparrow…" I gulped thickly trying vaguely to remember my own name, let alone his.
"Captain…" He rumbled, sending incredible vibrations down my neck, "…Jack…" I bit back a squeak as he nipped sharply at my chin, "…Sparrow, to ye, lass."
"Sparrow…" I blinked rapidly, trying to recollect the way to say, "Hold up!" and get my surroundings back in focus. Everything had a kind of hazy shimmer about it.
"Say it." He commanded harshly.
I furrowed my brow, "Wha…?"
"Say. My. Name."
I hesitated. I had been about to say something alright, but it hadn't been his name, had it?
"Say it, damn ye." He hissed hotly in the shell of my ear, only numbing my mind further, "or I'll make ye say it."
Psh. Make me say it. Yeah right. How could he possibly…oh…oh…oh. I was in trouble. I was in SO much trouble. Jack's hands traveled a deadly path down my legs.
"Repeat afta me…" He husked breathily against the side of my face. I was mesmerized by the sight of his hands on my skin. He seemed to feel the same, because his eyes were riveted to the sight as he continued, "Captain…"
He gathered the edge of my dress into his hands.
"Captain…" I echoed softly.
He began to tantalizingly draw the fabric upwards, "Jack…"
All the while my mind was screaming 'Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for PIRATES WILL STEAL YOUR VIRTUE…BEWARE!' But my body…my body wasn't having any of it.
"Jack…" I immediately bit my lip after it left my mouth because it sounded like I was pleading with him. To continue or to cease and desist? I don't think I was even quite sure.
God…I just HAD to get out of this bathroom…
"Sparrow…" He finished his lesson, rolling the r's to perfection. The dress continued its climb.
I had to snap out of this! Before that dress reached a place where I really didn't want it to go. All the same…my mind kept constantly assuring me: 'One more minute, one more second of feeling this, someone's desire for you. Then you can stop him if you want…if you want. Just…one more…' And I understood something about Jack then that had been implied before but I had never really got. He gets what he want, when he wants it. And when he says he'll make you do something…he will.
My eyes closed of their own accord, "Sparrow…" I whispered in a surrender of sorts…I guess.
I was really going to let this happen, wasn't I? It would be extra work for him though. I was wearing six articles of clothing at the moment. The bodice, the dress, a black skin tight undershirt, spanky pants (cause the dress was so damn short), and underwear and bra.
"Tha's it, lass…there's no shame in this…" His hands were under the skirt part of the dress now. This was surrender. But that word didn't sit well with me. I twitched violently at the thought, and the impact of what I was about to agree to bowled me over.
My eyes shot open.
No. I didn't want this. I wasn't ready, for all my protests about it. I could suddenly move again and my hands immediately grabbed Sparrow's, pulling them out from under my dress.
"Stop."
An inhumanly low growl erupted from deep in his chest as he hefted me up with such brute force; I choked back a surprised cry and clung to him, afraid he was going to drop me painfully to the floor. Instead, he sat me firmly on the sink counter, between two of the washing basins, and mumbled one thing…
"Not a chance, love." Both of his hands went behind me to struggle with the lacings of the bodice. Clawing at them with a fury that made me glad I had double…no triple…no wait QUADROPLE knotted the blasted thing, "No more…" He hissed shockingly not at all sounding like the Jack I knew. Jack jerked me hard against him, one hand still fighting the ties to the corset, and the other hooked under the flesh of my knee to allow even more space for him between my legs, and to make sure my heels couldn't impale him as I tried to twist out of this position. My arms were crushed to his chest. "No more refusals an' no more teasin', lass. I've waited too long…ye've held me off fer far too long…No, lass…I'll not be stoppin'…Not this time."
We wrestled for a few minutes in silence, only punctuated by my hitching gasps of air to keep from tearing up.
Why was he doing this to me? I finally managed to wiggle an arm out from between our bodies, and put all my weight into trying to push him off.
"Sparrow…stop…stop…Jack!"
He pulled back angrily in what I hoped was an end to all of this, but he was simply frustrated with the sailor knots holding the bodice together.
My legs were shaking, as were my hands, as I pushed at him. God I was trembling! And I was so confused….I mean it did feel good in a way, but when I had imagined us going on a very pervy romp like this, I had always assumed I would have had some say in it. Some control…and the problem was I didn't.
"Let me down, Sparrow…now." I demanded, afraid to push forward myself in the aspect of just coming into closer contact to what I was trying to desperately space myself from.
I thought that would be the end of it, but Jack had other plans. His darkened eyes alighted upon something on my person.
I'm just going to mention this now and get it out of the way: We should never have taught Jack how to open zippers.
I understood a second before it clicked in his mind. He had off the zippered corset top before I could utter a protest. Only five more layers to go now.
Both arms were pushing at him wildly now, "Jack, please…stop…" My breath caught dangerously. I really did want him to stop, too. But…there was a part of me, even if it was a small part, that delighted in the idea of him continuing despite what I would say. And that scared me, really, REALLY badly.
"Shhh…shhh…shh, lass…" He murmured roughly, his slightly scratchy beard scraping my cheek. His mouth found mine, softer this time than before, more languid yet just as controlling.
And then I just sort of…relaxed. My hands eased on his shoulders, his lulling whispers soothing my reactions. A tongue swept the cave of my mouth sending me shuddering too close to going over the edge. His hand slid under my dress strap, slowly easing it off my shoulder. I began to shrug away, but nibbling gently, pleadingly on my lower lip, he pressed a spot lightly on my back.
I'm not a ticklish person, by nature. Not my side, not under my arms…none of the typical places. My back, however, is. Don't ask me why. To make matters worse, I don't even know for sure where these ticklish spots are located.
Well, Sparrow had found one.
And feeling my prominent jump from the sensation, he brushed his fingers over the spot again.
My body reacted accordingly. My back arched in another sharp jerk, and my hips thrust forward, my legs wrapping around his waist. Natural, animal instinct. How I hated it…
The body was supposed to follow the reasoning of the mind, not the other way around!
"Rachel…"
The groan of my name from him caused a pause in me. It was the first time I could remember that he hadn't called me lass, or love or any other degrading name.
I drew back so I could see him.
He was back…Jack.
My Jack.
The hard obsidian that had filled his eyes was gone, and his coffee dark warmth was seeping back in. And he had said my name; not the frightening man who had been here moments ago, immune to my cries, but the Jack I had shared an adventure with not too long ago. He was palming my knee gently, the other hand lightly stroking my arm.
I twisted my arm and stilled both of his hands. I searched his face, but saw no sign of the previous, ominous, menacing shadow that had controlled him so completely.
"Where did you go?" I asked, gripping his hands tightly.
"I've been righ' 'ere, lass…" He assured me, although he didn't look quite sure himself.
I shook my head firmly, "No. No, you haven't. Where were you? Where did you go just now?" I peered closer.
He glanced down, suddenly interested in the state of my hands. He turned one over, his thumb running circles around the palm, "Now, wha' do ye mean, love?"
"You know perfectly well what I mean, Sparrow." I said, tugging up the strap of my dress he had slid off my shoulder. His eyes followed the movement carefully.
I waited for an answer as I gathered my bodice, shrugged it on over my shoulders, and zipped it up again.
Finally he spoke.
"Jus' got meself a litt'l carried away is all, lass. Nothin' ta fret abou'." He gave a flash of a grim smile.
I looked at him in disappointment. He'd have to learn sooner or later or never at all…no matter how much I liked…loved him, I wouldn't give up my principles or my morals. Not even for him.
I sighed tiredly and hopped down, making Sparrow back up a step or two. I straightened my dress, and made a vain attempt to pat down the wild tangle my hair had become, due to Sparrow's advances.
"If you're not going to tell a convincing lie, Sparrow…you might as well not even try." I swung my purse unto my shoulder. I looked around for my jacket and spotted it on the other side of the room. "Why don't you make it a night with the brunette instead…she seemed easy enough. She doesn't have this lass's reservations about things like that."
I managed to sound easy going and indifferent while at the same time the frantic rate of my heartbeat had only increased. I felt sick, feverish, and confused. It was clear the sooner I got myself out of this space and the company in it, the sooner I could give a good cry in light of recent events without said company knowing it was because of him. He didn't need THAT ego boost.
"Have a good night, Jack. I'm sure the girls will give you a ride back to Vicki's house." I was being this calm because I was swiftly unraveling inside. All I had as a defense was a mask, this mask, "Remember to wear a seatbelt."
Then, composing my inner turmoil, I turned my back on him and began to walk toward the door and my jacket that littered the floor.
But you don't just turn your back on Jack Sparrow, and if you do…you ultimately regret it.
I was yanked backwards so violently I nearly careened over. His mouth descended like a bird of prey, prying my lips apart with a vengeance. He had me so close, I might as well have been him…bone and blood. Been his skin, the thick lashes of his eyes, the tangles of his hair. With one arm, one arm, he began to lift me from the floor. From the frickin' bathroom floor!
The swinging door squealed on its hinges as a flirtatious couple entered.
Jack wrenched away from my mouth, laying a branding kiss to my temple long enough, to growl threateningly at the couple, "We're busy…take it elsewhere!"
"You guys have already had half an hour…" My eyes flew open, as I jerked down from Sparrow's hold at the sound of Vicki's voice. I spun to find them just inside the door. Will's arms firmly placed around her middle, hugging her form close to him, "…it's our turn now." She suppressed a giggle as he placed a tremulous kiss on the nape of her neck.
"So…are ya done or what?" She asked leaning gently against him.
"Yes…yes, we're done…" I murmured, taking hasty steps away from the eyes boring into the back of my skull. I bent down and scooped up my jacket from the floor. This was just so screwed up. I couldn't deal with this stuff. I just…couldn't. I didn't know what to think really. My body was telling me to a) finish the deed with Sparrow or b) Pummel his face into the metal Tampon dispenser on the other side of the room. My mind was telling me to just walk away and let it go. And my heart…well my heart's reasoning sucked balls. And I just didn't want to have to think about any of these things now.
"I…" I stammered slightly afraid to cast even one glance behind me. Vicki narrowed her eyes, picking up on my unease, her gaze immediately transferred to Sparrow's face, pinning him with an accusive glare. "I have to…check on Ben…I …thirty minutes…"
"What about Ben?" Vicki's head snapped to stare at me.
"He…um…he…he had an accident. I'm sorry, I really should check on him. I…left him alone…"
Just pick up your feet, Rachel, and get out of here now!
"Vicki, you stay here with Will and Jack but I…I think I'm gonna call myself a cab. I'm a little…a little tired."
And I left.
It took me awhile to find Ben. When I did locate him, I saw he was sitting at the bar…an icepack on his face, and he was joking with two of the bouncers.
I walked over.
"Hey." Even my greeting sounded apologetic.
"Hey!" His features lifted and his face warmed as I ambled up to him.
"How are you?" I asked tentatively sitting down next to him.
"Good…good, just talking with my boys here." He indicated the buff bouncers on either side of him, both looking like they weren't exactly his boys.
"You're a big fat liar…" my lips quirked bitterly. This whole thing had gone through the Ricky Martin dry spin, "…and you obviously paid these nice guys not to beat your ass for saying that, because you want to look cool."
"Yep." Trustworthy, honest smile. Even with a forming black eye he looked…great.
"Look…I'm really sorry…about everything…I don't know what got into him…" I tired to apologize again, but I couldn't see how words could band-aid physical hurt, "…I think he was a little drunk…"
Jack is a walking, talking Liquor store, who was I kidding?
Ben's gaze become sober, "As long as you think it's fine. Just…you should be careful with guys like that."
Great. He thought I was in an abusive relationship. Just fabulous.
"We're not really together."
"Looked pretty together."
"Uh…maybe you didn't notice the two ho's he was dancing with earlier. We're not together."
He once again put the ice buddy on his eye, "But you were?"
"For a time, yes. But it didn't really work out."
"I'm sorry."
I laughed at that, "No, you're not."
"No," and I was surprised to see he looked completely earnest, "I really am."
I chuckled, "You can't be! I'm not even sorry."
"You can't not be sorry," He laughed in return, "You're a girl…"
"Oh, well spotted!"
"No, don't get me wrong! But do you know who your ex looks like?"
"Ummm…not really."
His eyes widened (well his eye widened), "You've got to be kidding. He's the spitting image of Johnny Depp! I'm surprised you're even here talking to me when you could be making out with him in a bathroom somewhere."
Not saying I didn't…
I smiled. I liked Ben so much. "Well, in any case, despite my past relationship blunders punching you in the face, it was good to see you again."
"Yeah," he grinned, "you too."
"Well…" I got up from the stool, but lingered apprehensively, "See ya."
"Yeah…"
I turned to walk away.
"Uh, Rachel!"
I spun around, "Yes?"
"Would you like a ride home?"
I glanced at his bruised head, "Are you in any condition to drive?"
"Ah don't be fooled…I'm tougher than I look. Really, see…it doesn't even hurt any more…" He touched the skin around his eye, and winced, "Well, much…"
"I'm sorry it hurt to begin with."
"No big, it's fine. So what do ya say?"
I smiled as I ventured nearer, "I say 'where are you parked, Sparky?'"
(JACK'S POV)
He watched her, every inch of her as she walked through that swinging door. How the fabric of her dress brushed her lower thighs, how a wisp of hair caressed her shoulder…
And he hated her. Hated the very thought of her. Wha' was he doin' goin' around with a gel like tha'? A gel like tha' meddled things up in a man's mind, tainted a man's reputation. He wasn't a bloody aristocrat with fancy manners an' all the like, he was no nobleman. He was Jack (Captain Jack, thank ye very much) Sparrow, damn it all, and he would bloody well stay tha' way. No matter whose feelin's he hurt. Why, the very thought of a gel grown on 'im tha' much was laughable. Nah, he was much better off stayin' away from the female line entirely.
If only they would stay away from him. Oh, lord 'ere came Miss Victoria ta tell 'im off. He leaned against a metal box attached to the wall, waiting for her to begin. He didn't take notice of the fire in her eyes. The gel was a head shorter if she was an inch…What did she think she could do to him to warrant his fear?
"What was that all about? What did you do?" She demanded coldly of him.
He regarded her placidly, "Nothin' tha' the lass wasn't beggin' for."
Her face twisted and suddenly, ridiculously, his jaw hurt as well as the back of his head! And he knew that the eunuch's lass had punched him. Him! It was like retribution for his beatin' on the boy earlier. Jack had never believe the "thrice it shall return" philosophy but he could see now why some would be swayed by it's all too true outcomes.
His hand flew to his jaw, too stunned by the foolish rancor of the feminine mind to do anything else.
"That's for being an idiot." She spat, "Whatever you did, you just better hope she's forgiven you by the time she gets home or else your sorry ass is sleeping out in the street tonight."
And then she left as well, leaving him alone with the lad, rubbing his jaw tenderly.
"Did you deserve that one?" Will posed.
"No…"
"No?"
"No, lad…" He walked over to the sink and the mirror above it, where he determined the damage done to his face. Beaten by a mere slip o' a gel…but for good reason. "I didn't deserve tha' one. Tha' one I 'ad comin'."