I wuv you gais... :3 Seriously, thanks for all the reviews.

Chapter Ten

"I beg your pardon?" James sputtered, tilting his head in disbelief and confusion. "You want me to do what for you?"

"Yeh heard me. I said I want yeh to cook for me," Sparrow replied, placing his hands on his hips casually. He gave a little shrug. "Think it's the least yeh owe me, considerin'."

"Considering what?" James growled, crossing his arms across his chest and ignoring the curious looks a small group of young women nearby were giving them.

Sparrow grinned a sharp, feral smile and took a step closer, leaning right into James personal space. "Considerin' I spent the best part of yesterday and last night tryin' to keep yeh alive perhaps? I think it's a fair trade." His gaze slid down James' body slowly, making the smaller man shift uncomfortably. "Yeh don't get somethin' for nothin' in this world... James. And yeh know..." he reached out and stroked the back of his hand down James' chest and stomach, making James jump back slightly in surprise, "There are worse things I could ask of yeh."

Besides the not so subtle insinuation behind what Sparrow said, James was quick to pick up on the casual threat in Sparrow's tone of voice. After what he'd seen in the journey through Rookridge James didn't doubt that Sparrow could and would hurt or frighten him to get what he wanted. Even if what he wanted was just a bowl of soup.

Defeated and now considerably more nervous in Sparrow's presence, James sighed and nodded. "Fine. I'll cook for you, but don't you dare complain if you don't like it," he muttered begrudgingly. "Where are you staying? God help me, you do have proper cooking equipment, don't you?"

Looking pleased with himself, Sparrow nodded and clapped a hand down on James' shoulder, leading him away from the inn and out into the street. "Ah, whatever yeh make's bound to be better'n what I make. Last time I tried to cook I set my caravan on fire." The threatening tone from before was now completely non-existent and James had to wonder just how worried he ought to be by Sparrow's temperamental attitude.

They walked through the lanes between the fields, Pumpkin weaving his way between their feet and occasionally dashing off to chase rabbits. The further they got from the inn, the quieter it became until the sound of voices and music was nothing but a low rumble in the background. Sparrow's hand never once left James' shoulder.

"Are you camping in one of the fields or something?" James eventually asked, mostly because the silence was unsettling him but also because he was actually curious. "Only there was already someone else in the other room at the inn."

"Nah," Sparrow replied, shrugging slightly, "I bought a house."

The sheer absurdity of that statement took James a long moment to unravel, but when he finally succeeded he shot an incredulous look over his shoulder at Sparrow. "You bought a house?"

Sparrow raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Um, yeah? That's what I said, innit?"

James sputtered for a moment, his nervousness momentarily forgotten at having his world view shaken in such a way. Eventually he remembered how to speak, or at least how to protest. "But you're poor. Poor people don't just buy houses. Even in Oakfield houses are too expensive for poor people." He suddenly fixed Sparrow with an icy glare. "Are you squatting in someone's house? I'm not cooking anything for a squatter."

Sparrow snorted and shook his head, grinning. "I'm not that poor."

"Well, where did you get the money from?" James demanded, still not at all convinced that a gypsy could be in possession of money at all. The notion was simply absurd after all.

As they approached a small, two story house in front of a windmill, Sparrow fixed James with a teasing look. "I got it the way normal people do. By workin'. At the blacksmith's in Bowerstone." And there was that horrible, vindictive smirk again and James instinctively braced himself for impact. "But yeh already knew that, didn't yeh Pumpkin?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Sparrow headed into the house, leaving James in the front garden blushing hard enough he was surprised his ears didn't bleed. Sparrow had seen him? Oh god, he was never going to live that down. In fact, the ocean was right there, perhaps he should go and drown himself and save himself the humiliation of being forced to spend the evening with the man he'd been caught ogling.

"Oi!" Sparrow called out the door. "Yer not gonna stand out there all night, are yeh?"

Still a horribly embarrassing shade of red James hurried inside after Sparrow, vowing to not look at the other man at all if he could help it. Sparrow was still going around the house lighting candles and turning on the gas lamps so James simply made a bee line for the cupboards. After a quick search he found a good number of various vegetables in decent condition.

"Is vegetable soup alright?" he asked over his shoulder as Sparrow did something around the corner that sounded an awful lot like stabbing a fire with a poker.

"That's fine," Sparrow called back distractedly. That was just as well, since soup was just about all James was capable of making.

As he set about washing and peeling the vegetables in the sink Sparrow finished attacking the fire and returned to the kitchen. James didn't turn around but he heard Sparrow sit down in one of the chairs under the windows. He was suddenly very self conscious about the fact he wasn't wearing his coat. If that insufferable man was looking anywhere near his-

"Yer trousers are very tight, ain't they?" Sparrow said, casually enough. James almost peeled his own hand in shock. "Like, really tight."

"They are not that tight," he snapped over his shoulder. His voice was just a little too shrill for his liking.

Sparrow snickered. "They are, though. At least around yer arse."

This time James did peel his own hand, or rather, he nicked his thumb badly enough to make him curse quite colourfully under his breath. When he was done, he rounded on Sparrow – looking at the man was a sacrifice he was willing to pay just to stop Sparrow from staring at his backside – and glared at him as viciously as he could. "Must you be so crude?"

"Aye," Sparrow replied, with a cheerful little smile. Pumpkin chose that moment to walk in with a dead rabbit in his mouth, which he dropped at Sparrow's feet. He plopped himself down beside his master's chair and wagged his tail, looking between the two of them with a happily confused expression on his face. "Yeh don't get somethin' for nothin', James."

James bristled, not quite able to believe what he was hearing. Sparrow really wasn't about to let this go, was he? "I don't know what you're talking about," he bit out.

Sparrow's expression turned sly, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, aye yeh do..." he said in an almost playful tone, "I'm talkin' about you, last week, watchin' me at the blacksmith's."

"I wasn't watching you," James muttered weakly, turning back to the sink again to hide his bright red face. "I was... I was just..."

"Yeh were watchin' me," Sparrow insisted lightly.

James hissed in frustration. "Well, if it's any consolation if I'd known it was you I wouldn't have!" he snapped. Behind him he heard Sparrow chuckle.

"Now that just ain't nice," he said – almost purred – and the chair creaked as he stood up. James stiffened, his shoulders trembling with nervous tension as Sparrow approached him from behind. Each step Sparrow took was slow and calculated, making James feel very much like he was being stalked. Sparrow eventually stopped right behind James, so close that James could feel the toe of Sparrow's boot against the back of his heel. "What's the matter James? Don't yeh like me?"

James could almost hear the smirk in Sparrow's voice.

"No, I don't." He savagely attacked an eye in one of the potatoes he was peeling. "And if you even have to ask why-"

"Why?"

James dropped the knife and potato back into the sink and spun around to face Sparrow, only to find himself nose to nose with the other man. Well. Nose to throat. "Why?" he repeated incredulously. "How about the fact that you are the single crudest person I've met? Or that you seem to lace everything you say with lewd innuendos? Perhaps it's because you kissed me?"

Sparrow's grinned widened so much so that James was convinced he could see every single one of his teeth. "So that's what yer so tetchy about," he said. "It was only a kiss James."

"It was my first kiss."

The grin fell of Sparrow's face only to be replaced with an expression that was much, much worse. James had seen it before, on his father's more lecherous friends, usually aimed at young ladies but also occasionally at him and a few other young men. However, on those men it just looked disgusting. On Sparrow it was positively terrifying. James felt an inexplicable urge to check he was still dressed.

"D-do you want me to make this soup for you or not..?" he finally stammered out, desperate to turn Sparrow's attention to something that wasn't him.

Sparrow didn't reply for a long moment but eventually he smiled and tilted his head in acquiescence, taking a few steps back and giving James his personal space back. With a tiny sigh of relief, James went back to preparing the soup and trying to ignore the feeling of being watched.

The soup took unbearably long to finish cooking and by the time it was done James' nerves were shot to hell. Sparrow hadn't said anything else the whole time and the silence had done more to unsettle James than Sparrow's unsubtle flirting had. He quickly retrieved a bowl from one of the cupboards and ladled some soup out for Sparrow. The other young man was already seated at the table, his head resting on one hand as he watched every move James made. James placed the bowl down in front of Sparrow, refusing to meet the gypsy's eyes.

"Does this mean my debt is repaid?" James asked, folding his arms and staring very firmly out of the window. The moon was up now. He'd have to walk back to the inn in the dark.

Sparrow was silent a little longer as he tasted the soup and then he smiled. "Aye, I'll let yeh off this time."

"Good," James replied stiffly. "Well then, I'll be going now." He hesitated, unsure what else to say, if anything. This whole trip had been terribly awkward. "I'll... I'll, um. Goodbye."

He made a beeline for the door but just as he was about to step outside into the night air, Sparrow's chair scraped against the floor loudly and the next thing he knew he was pinned against the wall by the door with Sparrow's face inches away from his own.

"Sparrow-" he started to say, but he was cut off by a quick, fleeting kiss. Sparrow pulled away and when James didn't say anything he simply grinned and patted James' cheek playfully.

"Thanks for the soup," he said, before spinning away and returning to his meal.

James stood frozen by the wall for a long minute before slowly peeling himself away and stepping outside. He walked slowly down the paths that Sparrow had herded him along before whilst very adamantly not thinking about what Sparrow had just done.

:D Sparrow is more perceptive than you gave him credit for, Jamie dearest.