Rags of Time
Part 16
by
Disclaimer: Not mine, none of it. Claim no ownership and make no money. I just like to play with them. Sorry!
"Christ, Jack, I can't stand the smell of it. Get it away from me."
"Sorry, luv, thought you were sleepin'."
"I was."
Jack stood up from where he had sitting on the edge of the bed. He walked slowly to the window and looked down at the street, taking a large swig from his bottle of rum. He could just see the harbour from here. He watched the men winching up supplies onto merchant ships; supplies and cargo that wouldn't be welcome at docks in any British-controlled waters. A young boy ran about trying to round up some escaped chickens. He got the last one cornered between himself and the edge of the dock. Funny how a chicken knows it can't float, even if it's never been in water. This one considered the drop down to the sea before trying to flutter back past the boy, who just managed to catch it in time. Jack realised James was staring at him
He looked back over his shoulder and smiled weakly at him, before turning and clumsily sitting on the window sill, closing his eyes and rolling his head back at his sudden change in altitude.
"You're drunk," James said quietly.
"Now you're hardly one to chast—chastigate—cha... 'ave a go at me about that, now are you, luv? Least I don't get into such a state I could get meself killed for bein' a commodore in a pirate's port, or so messy I need someone to clean me up. 'Sides. I'm not that drunk anyway. Want some rum?" he asked with a mischievous grin, gesturing the bottle in James's direction.
James seemed to turn even more pale as his nose and lips twisted in disgust.
"No? Oh well, more for me then," Jack said, taking another long sip. There was a silence.
"I thought you had gone to Singapore. The barmaid in one of the taverns said you'd last been here getting supplies." James's voice was brittle, slurred with his exhaustion despite having been unconscious for the last half day. Jack hated that it sounded so weak.
"I was goin'," he said, almost petulantly.
"So why didn't you?"
"'Adn't got round to it yet."
"I see."
"Why did you come to Tortuga, James?" Jack's voice sounded suddenly sober, and James could see all the other questions those words raised written all over his face. Why would you put yourself in danger like this? Why did you leave Port Royal with no word? What if someone had recognised you before I'd had a chance to find you?
"I thought—were you to go, you would probably set sail from here. When you didn't come back to Port Royal after two weeks I—well. I thought you might actually be going," James sighed, and Jack heard the breath rattle from his throat before he started to cough.
Jack went back to the bed and crouched on the floor beside him, rubbing his back until the coughing subsided.
"You'll be lucky if you don't get a fever," Jack muttered, pulling the blankets up higher to cover James before sitting cross-legged on the floor. He leant his cheek against James's forearm where it rested on the bed, stroked his fingertips gently back and forth over the back of James's hand.
"I thought you'd actually gone," James whispered, and Jack couldn't tell which emotions he was hiding behind the low volume.
"Well. I was going to," he said with a gentle smile, then rested his hand on top of James's. "Hadn't quite got round to tellin' the crew yet, though. Or charting the course. But I was going to."
James twisted his head to give him a doubtful look.
"You hadn't told the crew?"
"Said, didn't I? Was going to."
"Indeed."
"Aye. Indeed."
They remained silent for a while, Jack occasionally humming and lifting his head to take a drink. He thought James had gone back to sleep until he spoke.
"How did you find me?" he asked, his voice thick and tired.
"Followed the smell of rum. Go to sleep, love."
"I don't really remember. Just remember seeing you there, and you carrying me here."
Jack looked up into his sleepy face and brought his finger to press gently against his chapped lips.
"Hush, Jamie. Try to sleep."
"Will you be here when I wake up?" James asked, his eyelids flickering closed.
"Yes, love," Jack said quietly. He brushed a rough lock of hair from James's face and behind his ear. He stared at the other man's face, smoothed by sleep.
The rum seemed to have done its job—a plan had formed in Jack's mind. He just hoped it would work.
Gibbs had been waiting downstairs at the bar, a full mug of ale before him. The mug was still full these ten minutes later.
"Gibbs, you've spent the last ten years tellin' anyone who'll listen that I sailed away from that bloody island on the backs of two sea turtles. But this you won't believe?"
"But—Captn', I... Beguilin', you say?"
"Aye."
"But he's—"
"Aye."
"And he's a—"
"Aye."
There was a pause.
"And you want me to—"
"Yes. Finally, you're payin' attention. Take this letter, get passage to Port Royal on the next tide and find our little Lizzie. Tell her to give it to the Governor, tell her it's about Norrington. She thinks it's all her fault, she'll be feelin' all guilty about it, I'm sure. And then leg-it, don't hang around there, mate. In case—well. Just in case."
"But Captain—"
"I'll deal with the men. Tortuga's the best place for it anyhow, they can all jump ship if they want and we'll find some more."
"But Jack—"
"Might be better off anyway, though I doubt we'll find enough half-decent stock 'round here. Might have to go to Port Royal with a skeleton crew. As it were. Not literal, like. Not again, anyway—"
"Jack Sparrow, will you bloody listen!" Gibbs exclaimed at last, bashing his mug against the bar to get his attention. Jack stopped mid-sentence, watched the ale sloshing out over Gibbs's fingers and pooling on the wood. He looked up into the ruddy plump face and sighed.
"Yes, Mr. Gibbs?"
"What makes you think they'll accept?"
"Why wouldn't they, mate? There's profit in it for everyone."
"And if they'd rather just put you up at Gallows Point?"
Jack paused and looked back to the spilt drink. The inn was quiet this time of the morning. One of the girls swept the floor behind them and pushed a sleeping man off the front step as she moved the grime outside.
"Well. That's for me to worry about, ain't it? Don't you trouble your pretty little head about that."
Jack brought bread and butter back up to the room and made James eat it in small mouthfuls. James sat up in the bed, head leant back against the wall and eyes closed, though he wasn't asleep.
"I could come with you," he said softly. The words broke Jack's gaze towards the docks, brought him back to the room suddenly.
"What?"
"I could come with you," James said, turning to look at him with his face pale and blank. "To Singapore."
"Jamie-luv," Jack began, slowly walking towards the bed. "Why don't we have this conversation when you're feelin' a bit more like yourself, 'ey?"
"But I could. We could go tonight on the Pearl. We could stay there or around those waters, we—"
James's quickened speech was stopped suddenly by Jack placing a finger to his mouth to quiet him as he sat down beside him on the bed.
"Hush, love. That's madness and you know it."
James smiled a sleepy bitter smile."Madness is running away without leave to a pirate's port to try and find you before you sail."
"Aye, but we can fix that," Jack said gently.
"Fix it?" James said with a snort of a laugh. "No, Jack, there's no fixing this. It's over."
"Don't be daft. There'd be no fixing it if you sailed away with me, you'd be a deserter and nothin' more. But there's a way to fix this, luv, as there's a way to fix most things."
"And what would that be? I see no way to redeem myself here."
"Let me tell you a story, Jamie," Jack said, his fingers flickering dramatically before them as he draped his arm around James's shoulder and pulled him closer. "See, a long long time ago there was this bloke named Orpheus. And he had this lady-love called Eurydice. Now—"
"I know this story, Jack. I had to translate it from the Latin when I was a boy."
"Ah, but then all you know is what that bore Ovid said about it. Let me tell you what really happened, luv. See there was this girl Eurydice, and she was a pretty thing. A great beauty, nymphs and spirits praised her for it. And Orpheus, being a man of passion and verse fell head over heels for her. And they married, but after the wedding, as she was walking along with all the sweet little nymphs who praised her beauty so, she stepped on a snake hidden in the grass who bit her ankle and killed her—stone dead where she stood. And Orpheus, bless him, for he loved her so that he mourned her 'til the whole world knew about it. And not content with that, he dared to travel to the river Styx to see if he could persuade the beings of the Underworld to return her to him. So he marched right into the realm of the dead where mortal men were scared to tread. And he sang a song so mournful of his loss and so full of the love he felt for his girl that he moved all the beasties of the netherworld to return his sweetheart to him. He took her hand in his and walked with her to the Ferryman, and they crossed the river back home together."
"That is not how that story ends, Jack," James told him after a pause.
"But it just ended, love," Jack said with a small smile. "And that's how it did."
"You may be Captain Jack Sparrow, but even you can not rewrite ancient Greek mythology," said James, with a return to his characteristic sarcasm.
"Who says it's ancient? I think it's very current and relevant, actually. Listen, love, I've got a plan I need to tell you about..."
"And you think this will work?" James asked. He sat cross-legged in the large bathtub Jack had sent for while Jack gently rubbed away at the grime and dirt on James's back.
"Of course it'll work. I came up with it, didn't I?" Jack cupped a handful of water and poured it over James's shoulders. James leaned back into the touch and Jack let his fingers spread over his wet skin. Jack had teased the knots and washed the dried dirt from James's hair, much to his protest, as he had wanted to do it himself. But Jack had gently pushed his shoulders down until he lay on his back in the water, long legs hitched over the sides as Jack's dancing fingers untangled swimming hair. It had been four days since Jack had found him—over a week since James had left Port Royal.
"What'll happen exactly, luv, when you go back to Port Royal? Normally like—if we were to just let you go back as is?" Jack spoke gently, stroking fingertips softly down James's arm.
James sighed heavily and his shoulders sagged forward slightly. "Well," he began slowly, "I'll have to account for my absence. To the Governor. The Admiralty. And I have no just reason for it. There'll no doubt be a hearing..." He brought a hand up to rub at his forehead.
"Don't exactly sound good," Jack said quietly, pushing his fingers into the tense muscles of James's shoulders.
"No. Not exactly."
"So my idea sounds better, then, 'ey?" Jack smiled, leaning closer over the edge of the tub.
"Well. I suppose having thrown everything away—something is better than nothing. Though I'm still not sure it will work."
"It'll work, luv. You've just got to play your part. And the biggest part of that is to look the part. Savvy?" Jack said quickly with a grin, jumping up from his seat on the floor and going to the sideboard. "Now, you just do as I say, Jamie, and do as I do—or maybe not as I do—I don't think you could pull it off. But you just follow my lead in your own way—you follow?"
Jack spun around with an armful of shaving equipment. James felt the smile spread across his face as Jack paused, trying to balance the mirror and soap and towel without dropping the razor. He came back to the bathtub and placed everything on the floor first before handing James the razor and shaving soap. Jack stood up again and began to remove his waistcoat and shirt, talking the whole time.
"See, Jamie, the way I see it—which is the way you should see it too if you want this to work, seeing as it's my idea, so's best for you to be seein' it my way—is that so long as we keep it simple, it'll be more believable. And if the worst happens—well. We'll see to that when the time comes. If it comes." Jack stopped talking when he noticed the questioning smile on James's face. "What?"
"Jack, why are you naked?"
"I'm gettin' in the tub with you," Jack replied, as though the answer was obvious. "Well, who else is going to hold your mirror?"
Jack stepped into the bath and slipped down to sit cross-legged in front of James, winking at him as he leant down to pick up the mirror. He held it before James and grinned at the dubious look he gave him.
"Have to look the part, luv. It'll do no good you turning up back home looking like a drunkard. Get on and shave."
Gibbs returned the next day, looking more worried than usual. Which was something. He had a note from Elizabeth, saying the Governor would meet them at the dock in Port Royal the following day. Her sweeping handwriting ended the note with I hope you know what you're doing.
Jack smiled at that, but decided not to share it with James.
James was jittery, his eyes glancing back and forth to Jack as he got ready to leave.
"Stop your fussin'," Jack said at last.
"But do you have any idea of how badly this could go wrong?"
"Yes. But it won't. You may have lived your career servin' others for them, but the Navy serves nothing but itself. They won't choose principle over profit, luv, even if you would."
"Well, I'm glad you have so much confidence in that, because by principle they should court martial me and hang you!" James said, angry suddenly.
Jack looked at him sitting there on the edge of the bed, hands limply resting on his legs, staring at him with so much worry and annoyance. Jack sighed and went to him, knelt down and parted James's knees to move between them and take his hands. He kissed the back of one hand and spoke quietly.
"Jamie-luv. I've found my way in and out of much trickier things than this. 'Ave a little faith, love. They won't try to hang me. And even if they do—you're forgetting one thing. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said with a golden grin. James returned his smile reluctantly and let his head drop. Looked at his hands held in Jack's: pale skin under darker, tar-stained fingers gripping his own scuffed knuckles.
"That's what I'm afraid of. Why should they believe you?" he asked softly.
"Why won't they? I've never lied to 'em before. Saved his pretty little daughter a couple of times. I'm delivering their commodore back from lawless waters. Way I see it, it's them lot what owes me."
"I doubt they will see it that way, Jack."
"Well, we'll just have to make them, 'ey?" Jack said as he began to get up. James tugged Jack's hands back down, forcing him to stay knelt on the floor as he leant forward and kissed him, forceful and then more desperate. Jack pulled back to offer another soothing sentiment, but James's hands suddenly grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and lifted him as he stood, mouths clashing together as James pushed him back against the wall.
James sobbed a tense whimper against Jack's tongue, tugged his head back with a handful of hair and trinkets so his neck arched. James followed the taut muscles of his throat with teeth and lips. He found the spot to the side of the nape of Jack's neck and nipped the skin there, making Jack hiss out a gasp as his body became limp in James's arms.
"Jamie-luv, we've got to—" Jack whispered hoarsely, but was cut short as James covered his mouth with his palm.
"Jack, please. Just for once—just shut up."
He slid his hands firmly down Jack's body as he sank to his knees, pulled at the laces on his breeches with frustration as he felt the heat beneath the linen harden. He loosened the material and shoved Jack hard against the wall, hands covering his hipbones as his lips covered the end of his cock. Jack's head hit the wood behind him as he moaned sharply, sucking the breath back in as James took his whole length into his mouth, tongue stroking beneath while he moved his head in bobbing rhythm. He slipped a hand down to grip and stroke as his mouth nipped and tongue circled and splayed while Jack's fingers tensed, entwined in James's hair. Looking down he saw James's cheeks hollowed and his eyes flickered up to meet his—deep like the ocean and full of something Jack was not allowed see, he realised—like something swimming in the darkness out of sight beneath the desire that sparkled off the surface. Jack's body shook and he bucked against the wall as he came, whimpering with each gasp as his breath returned.
James's loosened his grip on Jack's hips and let him slide down the wall to sit before him, knees splayed and eyes closed while his hand grasped out to touch James's face. His fingers brushed his cheek, his thumb beside his nose as he pulled him forward to kiss him, tasting himself on James's lips.
James pulled his mouth away, leant his forehead against Jack's as he wound an arm between his back and the wall.
"How can you be sure this will work?" James whispered with his eyes still closed.
"Pirate, luv," said Jack, with a slow grin. "Trust me."
They had been escorted to the fort by carriage, the Governor and Gillette riding with them. James was not surprised to discover Gillette had taken over his duties during his absence. Jack's excessive charm and over-the-top friendliness did nothing to ease the chill in Gillette's face or the awkward anxiety of the Governor. James found it hard to raise his eyes from his own hands for the duration of the journey.
They had held the meeting in James's office, though he was directed to sit on the wrong side of the desk beside Jack. The Admiral was due to arrive the following day, but wished for all the terms to be decided before his arrival to minimize the amount of time he would need to spend finalizing things. Gillette's gaze slid between Jack and James, lingering on them each in turn when the other spoke, to gauge their expressions when not the focus of attention. Jack found it unnerving—he hadn't realised the man was so sneaky. He didn't let his concern show on his face, just hoped James had noticed too.
When things were nearing a conclusion the Governor stood and walked towards the door.
"Mr. Sparrow. I wonder if I may have a word with you in private."
"Sir, are you sure that's wise?" Gillette asked quietly. The Governor muttered something in annoyance at him about being more than capable.
Jack grinned a little too widely at him and followed him into an adjoining room. The Governor closed the door behind them and paused, his fingers still on the handle.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your undivided attention then, Governor Swann?" Jack asked, his teeth biting down around the tension he tried to keep out of his voice. The Governor smiled, as though in acceptance of some thought process slowly being worked through his mind.
"Mr. Sparrow," he began, and Jack inhaled a breath to correct him but then thought better of it. The man's distaste and disgust toward him was rather too obvious. He decided not to push his luck. "There is much about this turn of events that I do not understand."
"Really? Why's that, then?"
"Your request is a strange one, given your history of evading and indeed escaping from the Crown on many occasions."
"Ah, but that's cuz you were always chasin' me, see. If you're not doin' the chasing I don't need to be doin' the runnin', savvy?" Jack replied, hands dancing around his words.
"Indeed. You have in the past—to some extent anyway—shown yourself to be a man of... some kind of honor. Be it of your own definition. But still, you spared and saved the life of my daughter a number of times during all that—unpleasantness. And Mr. Turner as well, of course."
"Aye—" Jack said, interrupting with a grin and emphatically bringing his hands together. "And you could say I was something of a match-maker for the pair of them, 'ey? If it weren't for me your Elizabeth wouldn't be so happily married and settled to our dear William."
"No, she would most likely be married to a commodore who would most likely be shortly becoming an Admiral, were it not for the fact that the poor man's heart was broken by those alternate arrangements you seem to be so proud of playing a part in bringing about." The Governor's voice was clipped suddenly, frustration playing at the edges of his mouth.
"Oh," Jack said quietly, dropping his eyes to the floor while his lips remained in that shape for a moment. "There is that, I s'pose."
"Well, that is beside the point," the Governor continued, regaining his composure while gripping the silver top of his walking stick more firmly. "What I was trying to say—despite the fact that you may be able to claim that some of your actions were altruistic, reflecting on everything I have ever heard about you—you appear never to have done a single 'good act' which did not also benefit yourself in some way. So I would ask you—what is there of benefit for you in this 'arrangement' you have proposed?"
"An honest decent livin', mate," said Jack with a breathy smile, aware it was unlikely that he would be believed but grinning all the same. "Times are changin' round here, it's gettin' to be that a self-respectin' pirate can't make a decent livin' without havin' to resort to more... unsavory activities. And I'd really rather not, to be honest."
"I wonder how it is that you expect me to believe you are being honest now." Governor Swann looked straight at Jack, a challenge there beneath his calmness. A warning that despite his bumbling appearance he was a man of power.
"Well Guv'nor, what you've got to ask yourself is—what's in it for the Crown? My pretty ship out there ain't just the prettiest in these waters, she's the fastest. And the most feared, due to the somewhat shoddy activities of her previous captain. Think what that'll make all them pesky pirates think when they come near Jamaica—knowin' old Jack's out on patrol. Not to mention the Spaniards and Frenchies—Barbosa had a fair old go at them as well in those ten years—she's a ship known far and wide." Jack began walking closer to the other man, talking slowly and seeing the words have their effect. "And just think how much of that New World Spanish gold I could bring to you. Your Port Royal could be the richest of all the colonies."
"Yes. Well. I've no doubt the Admiralty will see things in exactly the way you have described. I, however—I am more concerned with your wider intentions."
"I have none, sir," Jack said solemnly, looking up through heavy eyelids and bringing together his palms in an oddly serious bow. "I am simply a man seeing his life from the other side of forty and realisin' it's time to make a change. Changin' with the times, as it were."
The Governor held his gaze for a moment longer before sighing and looking away towards the window, to the view of the harbour where the Pearl was berthed.
"And yet your terms state that Commodore Norrington must be allowed to return to his duties, despite his recent actions. And why is that, Mr. Sparrow?"
"I owe him," Jack said, with another grin. "One day's head start, remember? 'Sides, he's good at what he does. Might learn a thing or two from each other, 'ey?"
The Governor looked at him blankly for a moment.
"And how did this come about then, between the two of you? This arrangement. You found him in Tortuga...?"
"No. He sought me out. Propositioned me, as it were, with the suggestion. Was something I'd been thinking' about for a while, if I'm honest."
"If you're honest."
Jack returned to the Pearl and waited while James discussed the formal arrangements with the Governor. Gibbs was jittery, and those of the crew who had decided to remain so kept glancing at their captain. Looking for a sign of what might be coming. He barked a few orders to keep them busy and their minds occupied before going into his cabin and closing the door with a heavy sigh. He leant back against the frame and closed his eyes. This was circling far too close to the edge for his liking.
He picked up the bottle of rum from the table and took a deep reassuring drink. The rum burned slowly down his throat, seeping heaviness into his limbs. He hoped James could hold his nerve against the doubting gaze of that jumped-up lieutenant.
He looked around to see the bed through the open door behind him, sheets still ruffled from when they had rose earlier, still a few hours from port then. James had looked so pale, his jaw set with determination as though he were actually going to a court martial. Jack supposed it meant the same thing in James's mind. He'd wanted to push James's stiff body back down onto the bed, push apart his tight lips with warm tongue and secure his wrists beneath his own hands above his head. Have James grip the wooden frame and force all his tension into not letting go of it as Jack slid his body down James's and gave him some release to ease his mind. But the look in James's eye warned him against it as he made a step too close and his fingers ghosted across James's hips. In his eyes beneath the sharpness was the dull ache that also shaped his mouth—it would hurt too much to do so on the day they faced losing each other. Jack had smiled and kissed him gently before making for the helm.
Jack took another swig of rum and ran his mind through the mental plan he held of the fort. Just in case.
As dusk approached, Jack stood on the quarterdeck, leaning on the rail and looking back out to sea. Night chased the sun beneath the horizon, kicking up the pinks and reds of dawn and sunset. One of the crew shouted down to the dock and Jack looked over his shoulder with a frown. Nothing seemed to be wrong so he returned his gaze to the darkening waters. A few minutes later Gibbs joined him and handed him a note.
"A lad brought this to us. 'E said 'e was told to bring it to the captain of the big black ship in the harbour."
"Thank you, Mr. Gibbs," Jack said with a scowl, holding out his hand with some reluctance. He pulled the letter open and saw James's handwriting.
All's well, it seems. All are in agreement. Tomorrow it will be final.
Jack smiled and folded the paper back up.
The following day the Admiral arrived while Jack was out on deck. He grinned and dipped his hat at the man as he made his way down the gangplank. The Admiral gave him a steely stare in response.
"Jack Sparrow, you are playin' with fire," Gibbs hissed from beside him. "It'll be a bloody miracle if you pull this one off."
"It's in the bag, mate. Why do you think 'e looks so pissy, 'ey?"
An hour later, a redcoat arrived at the dock with a message for Jack to return to the fort to complete the necessary arrangements.
Later that day, Captain Jack Sparrow stood at the edge of the outer wall of the fort in Port Royal, at the same place from which he dived to freedom a year and more past. He leant back against the brickwork, one knee bent as he rested his foot against the wall. He tugged absentmindedly at the frayed end of his sash, spun one of his rings round on its finger. The sea was calm today, almost calming. Still, she bashed her annoyance out against the base of the wall all the way down there, at the Navy's audacity for building such a monstrosity of a fort on this outcrop of her favourite island.
He looked out towards the horizon. Still his to take. In a way. Well, in the way that mattered, anyway.
James gave himself away with a heavy footstep. Jack turned his head, gave him a slow smile as he came closer.
"Captain Sparrow," James said quietly as he stood beside him.
"Captain Norrington," Jack replied, just as quietly.
James looked down at that, smiled a not-quite-bitter smile, with some self-deprecating amusement.
"Does it sting?" Jack asked him.
"Probably not as much as it should. I'm certain Gillette will make a fine commodore upon his upcoming promotion. He certainly did very well in my absence," James said after a pause.
They stood in silence then, each lost in their own minds, distracted by adjusting to these new arrangements. James watched the gulls swoop through the sea breezes, fighting over their perches. Jack watched James watching them, unnoticed by him as he was so focussed on his own wonderings. Still looking dignified, despite it all. His pale, noble face still brave. A man could be measured by how tall he stood in the face of adversity. James Norrington stood very tall indeed.
James looked down at the rocks below then, at the sea smashing and breaking against them. Churning spray to fizz against their jagged edges.
"This is where you fell," James said quietly, having just realised.
"Where I jumped, aye."
James chuckled quietly. "Indeed. How did you know you would miss those rocks?" he asked, looking back up at Jack to meet his eyes, too gentle, suddenly.
"Pirate," Jack smirked with a ring-dazzled flourish of his hands.
"Privateer, now. Does that sting?"
There was no malice or mockery in James's voice, but it still caused Jack's smile to fade slightly.
"Aye, I s'pose it does," he said absently. He straightened, moved closer to James to stand beside him and crossed his arms, staring back out to sea. James watched the heavy breeze move his hair, shift the braids of his beard; watched his kohl-rimmed eyes squint into the sun, his lips twitch slightly. "I've survived worse, luv," he said eventually, turning to James with a smile at last.
"But how long will you stand it, Jack?" asked James with quiet, tired earnest. "How long until you miss that freedom of yours too much?"
"Oh, maybe freedom's overrated these days," Jack said with a dismissive gesture, looking back down to the rocks beneath them.
"Jack. You do not expect me to believe that," James said, more of a statement than question. Jack paused for a time as James saw a number of things move across his face. Shadows of emotions he didn't want to speak of, tension there trying to hide it. When he spoke it was quietly, almost too quiet to hear, and with a reluctance James had not seen in him before.
"What's the use of freedom, James, if your heart's chained to one who can't share it with you?"
James felt his breath catch in his throat. Jack turned his head to look at him, his expression so serious he was almost frowning. James was unaware his own face was blank; all he felt were those words in his chest, in his stomach and his mind, branding him with the heat in Jack's eyes.
"Say something, Jamie," Jack said at last.
"You already know it," James whispered.
Jack laughed quietly, his eyes smiling suddenly. "Just as well," he laughed, grinning. "I don't think I could take you serious tellin' me, wearing that bloody wig. One of these days I'll burn it."
James smiled, laughed at the lightness that filled him suddenly as his chest felt fit to burst. He took a step back behind Jack so that his body blocked the view of anyone who might be around to look. He reached out his hand, caught Jack's fingers between his own. Jack's head snapped round, wide-eyed until he realized no one could see, and then he smiled. James circled and stroked his thumb over Jack's skin, around the callouses and scars, to slide up to the tender place under his wrist, pressed at his pulse. A beat that was chained to him.
"Captain Sparrow, would you care to join me for dinner this evening?" he asked with an official tone as he sent a tickling jolt up Jack's arm with some well placed fingernails.
"Are you sure that's wise, Captain Norrington?" Jack replied tensely.
"Of course. Why ever not. Do you not know? It is very common for privateer captains to meet with their Naval colleagues. There are always many things that need to be discussed, often over a meal."
James moved slightly closer still, tugging Jack's arm back towards him.
"In fact," he continued, "it would not be uncommon for said privateer captain to stay as a guest of the house of said Naval colleague." James quickly glanced around to ensure none of the few officers scattered around were looking as he lent forward, darting his tongue to lick at Jack's earlobe. "Savvy?" he whispered before quickly moving back again. James smiled at the muffled growl Jack croaked out.
"Is that so?" asked Jack, trying to stop his head from spinning so much. "Well, then. Who am I to break with such a convenient tradition?"
James smiled, releasing his hand to return to standing alongside him.
"I think I'm going to enjoy our new arrangement, Jamie-luv."
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