A/N: This one takes place pretty quickly after Jack marries Theo and James in the dinghy. For day 18 of flufftober, with the prompt: "did you plan for this to happen?"

They'd been in the brig of one of Beckett's ships for hardly any time at all, and Theo was already deeply worried about Jack's hand. He no longer sang, nor even joked, his mood bleak as he lay at the other end of the cell with the arm his good hand was attached to thrown across his eyes. Their all being put in one cell together was little accident, she suspected, for the men aboard would no doubt report back to Beckett what sort of dynamic they witnessed between them on the voyage back to Port Royal.

It'd be disappointing, she suspected, for Jack wasn't much up to conversation. If any comment was made on how she used her rum ration to clean the hand, she'd blame it on feminine sentiment – or a desire not to be locked up with a dead body. It was no great loss, anyway, for the heat and the exhaustion made rum unstomachable, and even the lukewarm water they were given was a far better option.

What did surprise her, though, was when Jack finished his own ration record time…and James pressed his own bottle into the pirate's hand. Even Jack himself was unable to hide his surprise, eyeing her new husband with narrowed eyes like he was trying to puzzle out whether he'd been able to get his hands on poison to lace it with.

"You need it more than I," James replied flatly, before returning to the little corner he and Theo had unofficially claimed for themselves.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, particularly not when it involved drink, that bottle was swiftly gone, too.

Time drifted on from there, Theo leaning tiredly against James, taking comfort in the proximity as her mind wandered – mostly, uneasily, to what lay ahead. She needed to meet Beckett about as much as she needed a bone marrow extraction, but she supposed there was little choice in the matter now so it wouldn't do to sit and stew about it. Although when she looked up at James, she found his lips pressed thinly together, his brow furrowed, and his eyes dark. She wasn't the only one brooding, then, although she thought he did it a touch more attractively than she likely did. But she was biased.

"What has my husband frowning like that on our wedding day?" she asked quietly.

The change that overcame his face then surprised even her, for the furrow was gone and his whole manner seemed to soften as he turned to look at her with an expression that robbed the breath from her lungs. How long could she garner that response from the word, she wondered? A long time, hopefully.

The hand that had been slung lazily around her shoulders drifted a little lower, coming to rest at the dip of her waist, his grip warm through her thin shirt.

"The fact that you deserved a better wedding, for one."

She should have known it would be a sore spot. The time played a role, no doubt, as it did in everything here. Maybe he worried it reflected on him in some way – as a husband, or how she would be kept as a wife going forward. So long as it wasn't in a hutch, she'd be happy enough. But she sensed this wasn't a time for jokes like that.

"I meant what I said – the only change I'd make is one that can't be made," she tilted her head to the side, lying against him now. "The groom was all that mattered to me."

Realistically, what could she expect from a high society Port Royal wedding, especially with Port Royal as it would be now? Without even the friendly faces of Elizabeth and Will in attendance. If, indeed, they were still friendly faces after the events of this day. Amelia Simmonds in the corner, sneering at how common she looked in her dress? Gillette tittering about how she was a step down from Elizabeth? Groves would've been a welcome addition…and she was sad that Governor Swann hadn't been there for how much she knew James would have wished it so.

Her words earned her a smile, and he replied quietly. "I confess a certain amount of elation, in regard to the bride."

Theo nestled closer still.

"Could've done with a wedding feast," she added lightly. "They give us water and rum, but not food."

The bastards had confiscated all of their coconuts after finding them, likely fearing they could be utilised as weapons. With Jack around, that was probably a fair concern.

"They don't want us at our best, when it comes time to meet the boss," he murmured.

That made sense, she supposed. Water would keep them alive, for they likely knew not when they last had access to it, and rum would either leave them fuzzy or hungover when it came time to face the little bastard. Especially on an empty stomach.

"I wouldn't have complained about a chance to be alone with my husband, either."

There was an adorable sort of fluster to his face when she said that, counteracted by how his hand slid just a little lower still, down to her hip where his thumb rested at the bare patch of skin where the shirt had ridden up a little. It felt almost scandalous. She hoped he kept it there – and he did.

"That," he said, "I have remedied to the best of my ability."

As if on cue, the now-empty rum bottle slipped from Jack's grasp onto the floor, and he let out a low snore. Theo sat up, staring at him in disbelief before slowly turning her gaze to James. He smirked in a manner that was downright roguish.

"Did you plan for this to happen?" she asked, a disbelieving grin threatening to tug at her lips.

The smugness of the smirk said it all, and she couldn't help but lean in and kiss him – which he returned gladly, pulling her against him. They parted reluctantly when a noise suggested one of their jailors might be coming into the brig, but Theo stayed close, the hand at her hip suggesting he intended to keep her there, and she spoke softly into his ear.

"Just for that, when he wakes up I'm having him marry us all over again."

Captain technicality be damned. James didn't seem inclined to protest.