BY: Fajrdrako
~~~
Will Turner knew exactly when someone entered the smithy, though there was no sound. There might have been a breath of air from an upper window, but Will did not notice it. Instead he noticed his pulse suddenly racing with excitement, with the anticipation of something about to happen.
He only felt like this when Jack was around.
Will had been braiding the tassel of a new sword. Without turning or looking up, he said, "Jack?"
"Will," said Jack Sparrow, from above. Captain Jack Sparrow. He stood on one of the crossbeams of the rafters, looking rakish. Will hid a smile by ducking his head, and picked up a polishing cloth.
"Been a while," said Will conversationally. It had, in fact, been fifty-one days since he had last seen Jack. Fifty-one days with no word of whether Jack was dead or alive.
He had concluded he would just have to get used to it. Even if their strange friendship - if it could be called a friendship - were to continue, he would never know from week to week what was happening to Jack. He might be enjoying the life of drunken dissipation with the voluptuous tarts of Tortuga, or he might be dancing at the end of a rope, or sailing the Cape of Good Hope - Will and Elizabeth would not know. They might never know.
In any case, the day was bound to come when Jack tired of acquaintance
with a middle-class blacksmith and his respectable fiancee. Will and
Elizabeth were tame amusement for a man with adventure in his bones.
Seven weeks gone, and Will had missed him dreadfully.
"I've been busy," said Jack. He tested a rope, found it sturdy, and swung downwards to land on both feet by the manger, the heel of his boot missing a mound of donkey dung by an inch. Will could never tell whether this sort of thing was luck or skill.
"Pillaging?" asked Will. He looked up, and caught a mischievous grin on Jack's face. He couldn't help responding with a grin of his own. God, it was good to see him.
He was looking fine, too. Sober, or nor far from it. No mysterious
bandages, no more teeth missing. This argued that his recent adventures
may have been in port with willing women, not in battle with hostile men. With Jack, you could never be sure.
"Oh, that. Some. Yes."
"So what brings you here?"
Jack was casually examining Will's work: a razor with bone handle; a
corkscrew; two swords, finished but not yet delivered, identical to the
one Will was working on. Jack took one by the hilt; balanced it on a finger, and took a swipe at an imaginary adversary. The blade missed
a taut rope by a finger's breadth. Luck? Skill?
Jack put the sword back where he'd found it. "I brought you wedding gifts. You and Elizabeth still plan to wed, do you?"
"Yes, as soon as we can afford somewhere to live. I am reluctant to live in her father's house or to be indebted to him, and my room is not suitable for her."
Jack cocked his head. "I could offer you a profitable proposition."
"No," said Will firmly. "Elizabeth's husband cannot be a pirate. When I deliver these swords and take my pay, after I get another few commissions I will be well on my way to having enough money. I have savings."
"Savings," said Jack, with a wave of his fingers, as if savings were irrelevancies. "You are not impatient?"
Will took a deep breath. "Of course. As is she."
"I should hope so." Jack tossed a purse towards Will's head. Will caught it deftly, surprised by its weight.
"What is this?"
Jack failed to answer, but leaned casually against a beam, watching as Will looked into the small bag. The medallions inside were gold. Unlike the cursed Aztec treasure, they had different markings, but each one was solid gold. Will looked up, his face serious.
"No, it's not pirate booty," said Jack lightly, reading his mind.
"Come by honestly, a gift to you and your lovely lady from me. Spend it on her, and your children."
Will wasn't sure whether to believe the gold was legally earned, but he felt touched. "I thank you, on behalf of both of us."
"Then both of you are welcome. You know I love weddings. You can spend it on drinks for your guests - an important matter."
There was an awkward pause. Both knew that Jack could not be a wedding guest. Norrington would have him in irons as soon as he saw him: not something Will or Elizabeth would ever risk.
Will stood and said soberly, "Jack. You know there is no man
I would rather have beside me on my wedding day than you."
"I'll be there in spirit," said Jack lightly. He reached for his rum-flask,
but dropped his hand before touching it. "I brought another gift for you,
but I am not sure whether to deliver it. I am not sure you would want it.
It is a worthless trifle."
"If it's from you, it's not worthless to me."
Jack stepped forward. "You only say that because you don't know what it
is."
"So tell me."
"I prefer to show you." Jack ambled closer. They were face to face now;
nose to nose.
"Show me, then."
"It is this." Jack put his arms over Will's shoulders, so his elbows rested
by his ears, his hands loosely clasped behind Will's head. Close but
not quite touching body to body, he kissed Will's lips.
Will felt the sensation like the rush of liquor; like sunshine after darkness,
like fire blazing up from a spark. He felt the soft warmth of the lips, the
taste of the skin, the heat of the mouth, a tantalizing, overwhelming attack
on the senses. Then Jack had moved back, his eyes wary, no longer touching
Will. It took a moment for Will to find the breath to speak. When he found
his voice he said, "Jack?"
Jack gave a roguish bow. "Being a gentleman of courtly manners, I am giving
you the chance to slap my face."
Will blinked. "I don't want to slap your face."
"No? How refreshingly original of you."
"However, I might complain that this gift is a stingy one, a pinchpenny
sort of thing."
"Stingy?" Jack's eyebrows went up in indignation. His hand waved in the
air. "You insult me."
"Do I? A half-second peck is barely more than the promise of a kiss. If
that's all you can do, no wonder they want to slap your face in Tortuga. I
don't know where you got your reputation for pleasing the ladies. Most disappointing,
I assure you."
"Two months engaged, and you're an expert on kissing?"
"Not yet two months, and I know enough to tell you are stinting me."
Jack tilted his head in consideration, his dark eyes flashing. "A kiss
should leave a person longing for more."
"A kiss should not leave a person starving in the desert."
"Starving?"
"Perishing."
"Perhaps I should come to your rescue, then. As always."
"Considering that you caused my state, it is the least you can do."
Jack moved closer, still not quite touching Will. "It would be churlish
to make you suffer." His finger raised, to lightly run the back of a fingernail
across Will's cheek.
"One expects no better from a scoundrel and a thief."
Jack's mouth moved closer. Will could feel the touch of his breath.
"Stealing a kiss is a crime that benefits both thief and victim."
"It is not theft," countered Will, "when the victim gives willingly."
Jack's lips closed at last. Will gasped, open mouth on open mouth. There
was nothing restrained about this kiss. It was all he had dreamed in his
solitary fantasies, and more. He felt the strength of Jack's arms, the
blaze of his enfolding presence. Will's heart was racing and his hands ran
down the back of Jack's coat as if touch were worth more than gold. Jack's
leg was between Will's legs and Jack's exploring tongue was opening new
horizons in his mind.
When Jack released him, Will had to take a step backwards to keep his
balance: his training in swordsmanship did not extend to this manner of sensory
experience. He took a deep breath.
Jack said softly, "Will, you never cease to amaze me."
Then the rope was in his hands again, and he was climbing, swinging up
onto the rafter with one easy movement, and running towards the window he
had used to enter.
"Jack!" said Will, and his voice came out hoarse. He swallowed and set
his shoulders. He would not beg. Not in this matter.
Jack paused, half in, half out of the window. "Till later."
Will grinned. "Nice present."
Jack tipped his hat. "No, my Will. That was not so much a present, you
see, as a promissory note."
Then he was gone where Will, a smile plastered on his face, did not bother
to follow him. The Black Pearl, Tortuga, Singapore,Madagascar - what did it
matter where Jack went? Jack would come back. Will could think of no better
gift.
- end -
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