Title: Wounds (1/1)
Characters: Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Will learns of Elizabeth's choice
Author's Notes: Written in response to the
fanfic100 table prompt #16 - Purple. Unbetad, a one-shot not to be taken too seriously. :) My table is here. Cross-posted to
fanfic100,
sparrabeth,
_peasinapod_ and
pirategasm
***
It is rare that Captain Jack Sparrow is taken by surprise. He prides himself on anticipating his adversary’s every possible decision, and being prepared for each of them. He can make split-second decisions and is never caught flat-footed.
Until William Turner emerges from below, charging across the deck and laying Jack out with a fist he barely has time to register before contact.
Momentarily dazed, he stares at Will blankly. Used to being met with a slap from a feminine hand, he hasn’t done anything to the whelp to deserve similar treatment.
Or has he? A smile spreads across his face unbidden, which he quickly makes vanish upon spotting the rage and hurt in young Turner’s eyes.
“You! You… thieving blackguard! You took her from me!”
Jack jumps to his feet, trying to repress the cheerfulness rising up despite the growing throb high on his cheekbone. “I did no such thing,” he announces, “Elizabeth is a grown woman and perfectly capable of making her own choices. ‘S not my fault if she doesn’t want to marry a eunuch.”
Wrong thing to say. He stays upright this time but can’t help staggering back a step as his face takes another blow. Bloody hell, the whelp hits much harder than a woman.
*
Elizabeth is furious with the both of them, of course, though Jack cannot fathom why he is a target of her ire.
“I didn’t do ought! He’s the one who came an’ laid me out with no warning – oi!” He flinches away and growls as her fingers press against the livid swelling under his eye.
“Hold still! You needn’t taunt him so; it’s a difficult thing for both of us.”
“Though you’re quite obviously the one coming out ahead, love.” He favors her with a roguish smile as his hand reaches out to caress her slim waist, look transforming into a moue of protest as she slaps it away.
“Why I did it I’ll never know,” her exasperated voice says, but then he catches her eyes, and her mouth twitches up.
Sure now of his footing, he smiles at her again and is pleased to see her stern demeanor give way, laughter forming in her eyes. “You know no woman can resist Captain Jack Sparrow,” he says, reaching out again and pulling her down beside him. She gives a gasping objection that is betrayed by a smile, her body issuing no protest.
“I’m tempted to prove you wrong, especially after being so cruel to poor Will,” Elizabeth says with mock severity.
“Me! You’re the one who broke poor Will’s heart, betraying his tender affections for the likes of a blackhearted scallywag.” Jack’s ornamented hand lands over his own heart, looking down at her as though taking offense. “A blackhearted scallywag who took a wound for his lady and has gotten naught but a scolding for it.”
Said lady gives a rather unattractive snort. “You’ll get worse if you continue in this vein.”
He brightens. “That a promise, love?”
*
At dinner, Jack wears his bruise like a trophy, smiling brightly despite the dark purple mark on his cheekbone. He manages to find an incredible number of excuses to mention honor and the importance of being a good loser as Elizabeth kicks him under the table and Will seethes quietly. Gibbs looks alternately amused and sympathetic.
Everyone on the ship knows what has happened, of course; few are willing to openly take sides in the matter, though Cotton had gone about collecting a ration of rum from each man, the winnings from his wager.
And as the sky grows dark, one man enjoys the ministrations of his lady towards the unsightly wound on his otherwise-lovely face, while the other retires below to nurse a deeper, unseen one.
Characters: Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Will learns of Elizabeth's choice
Author's Notes: Written in response to the
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***
It is rare that Captain Jack Sparrow is taken by surprise. He prides himself on anticipating his adversary’s every possible decision, and being prepared for each of them. He can make split-second decisions and is never caught flat-footed.
Until William Turner emerges from below, charging across the deck and laying Jack out with a fist he barely has time to register before contact.
Momentarily dazed, he stares at Will blankly. Used to being met with a slap from a feminine hand, he hasn’t done anything to the whelp to deserve similar treatment.
Or has he? A smile spreads across his face unbidden, which he quickly makes vanish upon spotting the rage and hurt in young Turner’s eyes.
“You! You… thieving blackguard! You took her from me!”
Jack jumps to his feet, trying to repress the cheerfulness rising up despite the growing throb high on his cheekbone. “I did no such thing,” he announces, “Elizabeth is a grown woman and perfectly capable of making her own choices. ‘S not my fault if she doesn’t want to marry a eunuch.”
Wrong thing to say. He stays upright this time but can’t help staggering back a step as his face takes another blow. Bloody hell, the whelp hits much harder than a woman.
*
Elizabeth is furious with the both of them, of course, though Jack cannot fathom why he is a target of her ire.
“I didn’t do ought! He’s the one who came an’ laid me out with no warning – oi!” He flinches away and growls as her fingers press against the livid swelling under his eye.
“Hold still! You needn’t taunt him so; it’s a difficult thing for both of us.”
“Though you’re quite obviously the one coming out ahead, love.” He favors her with a roguish smile as his hand reaches out to caress her slim waist, look transforming into a moue of protest as she slaps it away.
“Why I did it I’ll never know,” her exasperated voice says, but then he catches her eyes, and her mouth twitches up.
Sure now of his footing, he smiles at her again and is pleased to see her stern demeanor give way, laughter forming in her eyes. “You know no woman can resist Captain Jack Sparrow,” he says, reaching out again and pulling her down beside him. She gives a gasping objection that is betrayed by a smile, her body issuing no protest.
“I’m tempted to prove you wrong, especially after being so cruel to poor Will,” Elizabeth says with mock severity.
“Me! You’re the one who broke poor Will’s heart, betraying his tender affections for the likes of a blackhearted scallywag.” Jack’s ornamented hand lands over his own heart, looking down at her as though taking offense. “A blackhearted scallywag who took a wound for his lady and has gotten naught but a scolding for it.”
Said lady gives a rather unattractive snort. “You’ll get worse if you continue in this vein.”
He brightens. “That a promise, love?”
*
At dinner, Jack wears his bruise like a trophy, smiling brightly despite the dark purple mark on his cheekbone. He manages to find an incredible number of excuses to mention honor and the importance of being a good loser as Elizabeth kicks him under the table and Will seethes quietly. Gibbs looks alternately amused and sympathetic.
Everyone on the ship knows what has happened, of course; few are willing to openly take sides in the matter, though Cotton had gone about collecting a ration of rum from each man, the winnings from his wager.
And as the sky grows dark, one man enjoys the ministrations of his lady towards the unsightly wound on his otherwise-lovely face, while the other retires below to nurse a deeper, unseen one.