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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: NC-17. Bondage.
Pairing: Will/Elizabeth, Jacques/Jack/James, Jack/James, José/Carolina, Sands/El (kitties)
Feedback: Please let me know what worked for you, and what didn't.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except these versions of Jacques and José, and the Sands and El kitties.
Summary: Jack's and James' nightmares merge, forcing both men to make final choices.
Notes: José Gaspar is Antonio Banderas, and Jacques looks like this. He occasionally drops a French phrase; translations upon request. Crossover with Once Upon a Time in Mexico. The cats originate here. //words// in Spanish. Small LotR joke; see if you can spot it.
***
"Mraow!"
Claws dug into his arm, probably drawing blood. James' grip instantly loosened as he flinched, and he nearly dropped the cat. Who growled again and heaved himself back into a secure position. "Sorry. Did I squeeze you?"
In response, the cat glowered up at him, then patted its left paw on his sleeve. Well, it seemed to be no worse for the wear, so James obligingly directed his steps leftwards. He couldn't be any more specific, as the moment he had stepped into the island's small forest, the suddenly dense foliage had completely swallowed the beach and sea. He didn't remember the place being quite so large when they had rescued Jack and Elizabeth, but then again, the realistic elements of the dream seemed to come and go as they willed. Fittingly like their originator, he supposed. "Except certain people do seem to affect his traveling plans."
He'd always numbered himself among them, but for reasons related to persecution and law enforcement. Not…affection. Lust. Whichever Jack happened to be reveling in at the moment-but that was unfair of James. The knife cut both ways, and it was about time he admitted it.
He did want Jack. As lover, as colleague, as friend. Even if it literally pained him to confess that. He did want to say to hell with the rules and trample them. Unfortunately, he could see no likely way by which such a fantastic situation could happen.
Then again, undead pirates and curses and magic slumber hardly belonged to the ordinary sphere of the world. Perhaps James was being more than unfair and envious when he criticized Will and Elizabeth for their choices. Perhaps it should be more obviously telling that up until very recently, he had thought of them as fleeing from a cage, and not as running toward the end of a rainbow. He had dreamed, once. If he tried hard enough, he could remember the feeling of envisioning outrageous futures. More importantly, he could recall the feeling of thinking they were possible. But it was an alarmingly faint memory, too deep in the shadow thrown out by concrete expectations. Captain-his own ship. Commodore-higher rank. A fine woman as wife-the accepted end to the pursuit of happiness.
To be honest with himself, he would have made a terrible husband for Elizabeth. She was strong and lighthearted and full of sun-and she would have had to stay in the muffling shade of the house while he devoted himself to duty. Because no matter how much he respected and admired her-and he did-that respect and admiration would have driven him to work harder and longer in order to match up to the outward image of perfection they together would have presented. It would not have inspired him to the wild leaps of faith that Will had taken and would undoubtedly keep taking. Good God, he hadn't even gone after Turner and Barbossa that last time until Elizabeth had provided an excuse that rang true to his sense of…chivalry fit best, he supposed.
Jack, on the other hand. Jack infuriated James beyond measure, at times. Jack tormented and worried and enchanted and otherwise drove him completely out of his sensibilities. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what he might be capable of, if the pirate was involved.
Which answered the question of what Captain Jack Sparrow meant to him. Now all that was left was to decide what James was going to do about that particular self-discovery. And he couldn't shirk making that particular choice any longer.
The cat hissed, and James hastily stopped the gradual tightening of his arms around it. His breath was beginning to come a bit short, so he halted near a half-fallen trunk and gingerly leaned against its mossy side. "All right, cat. I still don't know how you convinced me to let you guide us, but you at least seem to know where you're headed. Which way?"
Round blinking eyes met his gaze. It didn't move.
"Am I doing something wrong-"
And the sky caved in. Or rather, the setting abruptly tried to buck him off his feet as space crashed down around him. He barely maintained his balance, but in doing so, he inadvertently lost hold of the cat. A long low snarl echoed in his ears as the feline whirled away from him, too fast to retrieve. Trees flashed into tattered canvas and dirt turned to flat wood, dark as hell and screaming with every creak. Gnarled bark twisted into brutal half-rotted faces, topped with dirty rags and barbaric ornaments, and from the twig fingers of every hand, metal cast out dull murderous gleams.
The Black Pearl. Under mutiny.
***
Will probably should have made some appropriately grandiose gesture, but frankly, his skin was pinching too tight with apprehension for him to even make an attempt. Third time here, and Isle de Muerte didn't get any easier to approach. So he went for the simple pointing finger. "That's the cave."
Next to him on the deck, José and Carolina nodded as they somberly regarded the jagged crack in the mountain. They didn't have their cats with them, but that seemed a minor oddity in comparison to the task they were about to begin, so Will didn't bring up the matter. "Have you talked to de Moineau yet?" José asked.
Who-oh, right. Jacques. Will nodded and produced the sheaf of papers the other man had thrust at him during their conversation the night before. He leafed through them, pointing out sections as he replied. "Yes. And I've checked over your agreement with Jack about how to divide up the other treasure-Gibbs and Anamaria have both been told, and they're in charge of our loading parties, since I'll be busy overseeing the furnace construction. Incidentally, I looked at those plans again, and they seem a bit off."
"You mean no bellows, no coal?" Carolina curled into her mate's side as she peered at the doodled plans. "Well, of course not. This is not metalworking, Señor Turner. This is alchemy. You break the form of the curse, and Jack breaks the spirit."
Whatever they said. Things had gone slightly past the fantastical, and by this point, Will had given up and decided to just go along with anything that rang true with his instincts. He and the Gaspars chatted a little longer to work out the statistics of the joint venture before they returned to the Floridablanca. After seeing them off, he did a quick go-around of the Pearl, saving for last a visit to the closet in which they'd stuffed Barbossa. Where he found a stricken Elizabeth and a raging Anamaria standing in front of an empty cage.
"Damn his filthy little guts," Anamaria snarled as she stalked about the small room, tearing aside objects and kicking into shadowed corners. "Should've ripped 'em out an' used 'em for bait 'fore this."
"Will, he's escaped!" Elizabeth gasped while seizing hold of his shoulders and turning fearful eyes onto him. "He's-oh, God, Jack and-"
He just managed to snag her by the waist before her sudden rush would have toppled her over a crate. "Wait-calm down. Jacques is sitting with them; he hasn't left all night. Do you still have the coin?"
"Yes." Both Elizabeth and he flinched at the shakiness in her voice. She sank back against him and made a visible effort to steady herself. "I…it's where I would feel him taking it. So no need to worry over that."
"Good." Will swept soothing hands over Elizabeth's sides and stomach, brushing away her trembles. Even limited to what a small monkey could accomplish, Barbossa still posed a formidable threat. But the way Jacques had talked about the new curse made it seem that the wicked bastard had had only one shot, so to speak. And Barbossa had used it on Norrington. So why would he bother escaping when he could hardly accomplish anything now?
In this world, Will abruptly realized. He caught Anamaria by the arm as she passed and, when he had her attention, ordered, "Tell no one but Gibbs, and keep a sharp eye out. I'll consult with Jacques."
"Why bother him about…" Comprehension flashed over both women's faces. "Oh. Fine, then. Happy t'let Jack get another go at th'whoring son of a jackass."
Anamaria stalked off, but Elizabeth hooked her arm through Will and plastered herself firmly to his side. Made easier by her deciding to appear in trousers this morning, he only now noticed. "Yes, wife?"
"I want to know what's going on." She put her other hand to her hip and gave him a stubborn look. "And you can't stop me."
"By all means, no. I've learnt that that's useless," he grinned as he escorted them up the stairs and over to the captain's cabin. Will covertly allowed his fingers to drift under her coat, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head when she muffled a squeak in his shoulder. "So now I wait for the opportune moment, as Jack would say."
***
At the sounds stirring just beyond consciousness, Jacques slowly brought himself to awakening. He rubbed the crusts from his eyes as he uncurled from between the other two men in the bed and sat up to greet the Turners. "Bon matin. We have arrived?"
"So we have." Will pulled Elizabeth down into the same spacious chair and gazed speculatively at Jacques. Curious. Jacques was fairly sure he was presentable, aside from his hair, which no earthly power could tame, and he didn't remember doing anything notable in the past few hours. "Barbossa's gone. And somehow, I don't think he's anywhere in this…what'd you call it? 'Plane of existence'?"
A small ball of ice sprung into Jacques' stomach, and he clutched at Jack's slack hand for a few silent moments. "Oui. He's not here. He's with them."
Elizabeth produced a rather impressive growl, but did not seem very surprised as she hugged Will's arms more tightly around herself. "It would be like Barbossa to want to settle grudges in person."
"And Jack," Will added in a low tone, his glance at his captain an intriguing mix of annoyance and admiration. Then he became all nerves as his eyes shifted to Jacques. "What are the odds? I mean seriously-I wouldn't follow Jack if I didn't believe in him, but the nightmare wouldn't work if he didn't have weaknesses."
"C'est la vérité," agreed Jacques as he absently toyed with Jack's and James' hair.
Will's eyes followed his fingers, and then the other man nearly upset Elizabeth as he started. "Our Lord Christ in Heaven. His…his…"
"It grew." Jacques was aware that some of his bitterness was leaking into his smile, but after all, this story couldn't be told without it. He internally braced himself against the returning memories. "When you spend a long time in a dream, you begin to be confused as to where is the real and where is the illusion."
"Jacques…?" Elizabeth began, her lovely face falling into concern.
"Once upon a time, there was a foolish young man who didn't listen to the wiser elders. He trespassed upon events that were not his, and in return, their true owners punished him by trapping him in the halfway land that lies between dream and waking." He held up a hand to the light and twisted it, watching the thin flaps of skin between the fingers redden and turn translucent. "They said he would serve there until a master thought of dragging him out of that place. But it's amusing, tu sais. Meet someone as a slave, and people find it very difficult to think of them in any other role."
"A long wait," Will remarked, regard steady and, oddly enough, absent of the pity in Elizabeth's eyes. He laid his cheek against his wife's. "To find the one you can bind yourself to without feeling like you're being chained."
A grin, completely free of distorting irony or cynicism, somehow alighted on Jacques' face as he nodded and leaned back. His fingers twined black and brown locks together into one braid, then unraveled it. "Freedom certainly is a rare thing. They'll have to remember they have it, if they want to get out. I can't do anything now; neither can you."
"We can melt those coins and make sure this never happens again," Elizabeth said in a tone that brooked no argument. She stood up and pulled Will with her, then leaned over the bed and brushed kisses over the forehead of each sleeping man. "Don't you dare forget-you're Captain Jack Sparrow. And Norrington-you're the best commodore that I've ever heard of."
***
"Sands, y're not bein' very helpful, y'know." Jack glared at the smug furball, then remembered that effect was wasted on a blind cat and changed approaches to poke at Sands' nose. That got him a hiss and an attempted clawing, but still no more information. The little black hellion had planted itself on the rail of the derelict upon which they were stuck and then refused to budge. "Do you or y'not want t'rejoin y'r mate?"
Loud yawn so he could see the pink inside of the cat's mouth. "Meow."
"That-"
Huge and silent, the wave was literally drowning out Jack before he even knew what was happening. He tumbled uncontrollably in the water, blurred colors streaking by as all direction lost itself in the torrent. No up, no down, and after a few seconds, not even a sense of his own spin until he slammed into wood and flesh. Jack whipped out his arms, seeking an anchor and clamping down the moment his fingertips touched one.
The water drained away from his coughs. Salt burned in his eyes and nose, shriveled his tongue as he released his death grip and wiped it all off. Thereby revealing a familiar leg.
"Hello, Jack." Barbossa's yellowed glare crawled unpleasantly over Jack's skin, suddenly dry as bone. Next to him, the looming remains of the bo'sun dragged up a disheveled, wild-eyed James. "It's been a while since we've had a good talk."
***
Muttering by her ankle prompted Carolina to turn from the construction of the smelting furnace and glance down. Whereupon she crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. //And where have you been?// she queried the cranky tricolor puddled around her foot. //Where's Sands?//
El glowered and scratched at the ground, then turned his head toward a small heap of coins. A bare breath later, a bedraggled and soaked clump of black fur slunk onto it and let out a pitiful mew. El didn't move.
Sands crouched on his belly and edged a bit nearer. "Mrraow?"
"What's…" Will's expression was quite funny when Carolina waved him silent, but she didn't dare laugh. Not yet.
"Mau. Hrraow." El continued to eye his fellow familiar with a baleful mix of aggravation and general ire. Sands' tail and ears wilted, but perked up when the tricolor snorted and got up. El reluctantly sniffed at Sands' muzzle, then flopped over and tangled himself into the other cat as he began to lick the water off Sands, who happily arched into it with a blissful expression.
"Right 'dorable, they are." Anamaria watched the two cats with what must have been an unusually gentle demeanor, to judge by the way Will was desperately trying not to goggle at her. "An' what have they been up to?"
Contemplating that just about brimmed over Carolina's amusement, so she quickly gathered up the cats before her snickers could break loose. "Stop that for a moment, El. We need you to light the fire."
"What?" Will stared from cat to-all right, it did look a bit irregular-furnace and back again. "No fuel, wooden frame…and we're using a cat to start it? Look, I-"
"-will step out of the way and let the woman do what she needs to do," Elizabeth interrupted in a gracious but unwavering tone as she took her husband by the arm and pulled him out of Carolina's path. When he continued to protest, she shoved him against the nearest stack of chests and gave him a kiss that steamed up the entire cave. Anamaria hooted gleefully as she pointed and slapped her thighs, which of course started off both sets of crews.
Smiling herself, Carolina put her familiars down by the base of the mock "furnace" they had constructed. //Gold melting, and the flames should only touch the gold. No messing with explosives.//
El and Sands both were a little disappointed, but nodded their understanding. Which was good, because otherwise she would have to flay their fuzzy skins off their cute little bodies for starting yet another ridiculously messy chain of events. Granted, the last time that had happened, she had met José, but still.
As if reading her thoughts-rather likely-El made a huffy noise and slumped onto Sands, pinning the other cat down with teeth gently but firmly fixed in nape. Sands mewled and froze. A satisfied look on his face, El rose and stalked into the base of the furnace. As soon as good strong flames were crackling within, he leaped out and returned to his grooming of Sands.
"Right, then," Will muttered in a bemused tone as he came up beside Carolina. He very carefully ignored the purring as he examined the fire. "Seems hot enough. Men! Start bringing the coins over!"
"Did you mention that they'll be temporarily cursed until all the gold is melted?" Carolina murmured as she watched the Pearl's crew spring to obey orders. Young as he was, Turner had his men firmly in his pocket, it seemed. Well, the blood on the one side was excellent, and she had the odd feeling that his mother's side was equally good. Briton, and hadn't that island's greatest smith been of fairy blood?
An eerie glint of fey cunning flashed at the side of her vision as he slanted his eyes to her. But it was gone too quick, and after all, he might have gotten that from time spent with Jack. Maybe. "No. They already know what that gold can do, and with their captain temporarily absent, I saw no point in scaring them any more."
True enough. Even the Floridablanca's oldest hand seemed uncomfortable on Isle de Muerte, and Carolina certainly did not feel serene, no matter what kind of front she put up. Something was happening, or was about to happen. She could feel it slithering beneath her skin, chattering along her bones. She could almost taste it in the tingling air.
Change.
***
José abruptly halted and stared beyond the unloading boats at the cliffs. Then he willed away a shudder and pried his hands from the railing. A light tap on his arm nearly spun him away in a blinding-fast sword draw, but luckily for the other pirate, he restrained himself to a tiny jerk. //There's a storm coming.//
//Sir?// The other man was clearly puzzled, but kept his opinion to himself. As he should, considering what José had led them-to highly profitable success-through in the past. //Where do you see clouds?//
//Not…not that kind.// Carolina's citric honey pulsed through his senses, accompanied as always by the two smaller ginger-molasses throbs that were the familiars. José briefly closed his eyes, letting himself submerge into the connection, and then opened them to regard the Pearl's sleek blackness, anchored by his own beauty. Well, his friend hadn't yet let him down, even if Jack had taken nine years to explain just what had happened between him and Barbossa. Then again, that was the man's prerogative. //Take the boats back to the island and load up, but don't come back until Carolina gives the word.//
//Yes, sir.// No protest or sneer at having to look to a woman for direction, which gratified José to no end. His mate-let the Church deride them all it would, but she was too good for 'wife'-deserved an easy life. Since she preferred adventure instead, he would do anything to make it a glorious one, free of all those petty considerations.
Which, he supposed, was also why he raised no objections nor gave any negative advice to Jack on the wisdom of becoming involved with a Navy officer. Short of death, that man would always do what he wished, and anyone who intended to divert his path was a fool.
***
Simply standing in the cave did not unduly trouble Elizabeth. Neither did touching the various treasures scattered about: she had quickly learned to tune out the phantom blood and screams emanating from them. But she could not ignore the low raw vibrations that originated in the plain stone chest holding the Aztec gold. When the crews began feeding the coins into the furnace, the body-wide headache only worsened.
Will found her crouched in a valley formed by two huge piles of loot, rubbing futilely at her temples. "Elizabeth?"
Will. Will, Will-she lunged out and dragged him on top of her. And he thrummed to her touch, resonant and healing and-"Distract me. Please, Will."
His pupils shrank to needlepoints with the rasping intake of breath, and then his lips came down on hers, hard and demanding, while his hands raked inside her coat to cup her breasts. Thumbs rubbed her nipples to life as he stirred fire and water in her mouth, scorching it down her throat. She rose to meet him, hands pressing up and down his back. Raked nails across his shoulders, diagonal to the hips, and then she did it again to hear the rippling in the groan that came out of him.
"God…beautiful…wench…mermaid." Gasps rained into her hair as Will dipped into her neck, licking hot up its length. He bit tenderly into the spot just behind her ear as his fingers caressed breasts, waists. Their tips sensuously numbered each of her ribs, then slid back to do the same to the bumps of her spine. Drifted into her waistband, teasing the tops of her buttocks as she teased his sides, hips and then stroked inward to shape the growing firmness in the front of his trousers. "Elizabeth."
"Mine," she murmured, voice made mellow and singing by the warmth seeping from inside out to meet Will's loving ministrations. They kissed again, less desperate and more longing, clinging to each other as if they were children once more. Clothing loosened and unfolded to their explorations. She moved, and Will went with, and then-things fit. Her palms to his chest and his rigid flesh, his fingers to her thigh and then in, their knees slipping in and out wherever there was space. "My smith, my pirate, my-oh, my God-Will."
He laughed into her shoulder, choking a little as she allowed a little nail to scrape along the length of him. His fingers twitched, throwing off sparks into the boiling whirl that gyrated within her, setting her head off-balance and hazing over her vision. "Quiet. Quieter, or Anamaria will come, and she'll…she'll…"
"Snort and ask…us to hurry up so…so she can-" Elizabeth hissed and jerked her one hand up to Will's shoulder, clawing at it. She knew she was drawing blood beneath the shirt-she could see the pink spots forming-but God, God, so close and yet she felt herself drifting from Will. But she never wanted to leave him. Journeys and excitement, yes, she would seek that, but with his company because his presence just made the world so much brighter--
So bright. White. Brilliant.
Cotton in her mouth, and under that, warm skin and sweat. Her stifled cry bouncing off Will's shoulder back into her throat, and her hand still rubbing of its own accord, knowing that Will deserved-deserved all. Hot spill over her fingers, cooling too quickly in the dank cave, and then sight came back with the image of a conspiratorial smile. Damp wisps of hair stuck to Will's forehead as he nibbled Elizabeth's nose, cheekbones. "Better?"
"Better." His breathless chuckles and her giggles melted together as they cleaned each other off, taking little glances past shoulders and heads to check for any onlookers. "Much better. I love you, you know."
And saying that was simple and free as breathing.
"I love you, too."
And hearing that was sun and sea in her heart, and almost, almost enough to fight off the chill in the air.
But it wasn't their trial now. It was Jack's, and James'.
***
Barbossa was striding casually up and down the rotting deck, his bones gliding in the moonlight. He was clever enough to stay out of sword range, Jack noted. Clever enough to keep Norrington just far enough away, as well.
The other man was bruised and furious and straining for the chance, but Barbossa had had his wrists bound behind his back and assigned two men to restrain him. His eyes glittered like freshly cracked jewels, flashing green fire from Barbossa to Jack, who wished desperately that he had never brought Norrington along on this trip. Elizabeth had been right; using curse-breaking as an excuse had been going too far. But he had just wanted so much to have the commodore look at him as something besides a pirate-
--nothing to be done about it now. And anyway, Barbossa had just about finished the gloating and was near to addressing the real matters at hand. "Jack? You'd be hearkenin' t'me, wouldn' you?"
"I try never t'miss anythin' of interest." Jack swayed to the side, letting his hands waft through the air. A hairsbreadth before he would have had his sword out, however, Barbossa clacked teeth and glanced over to the men holding Norrington, who promptly had knives to the other man's throat.
"I'd not be tryin' anythin' foolish, Jack. Wouldn' be wise for either of you." An echoing laugh rolled out of ribs and jaw. Barbossa circled back to Norrington, pushing down the blades to stroke bony fingers along the distasteful grimace. "Pretty. But then, you always did have an eye to the lovely things in life. No common sense, though-takin' up with Navy, indeed. Even if you fall through my hands, his'll have the noose round your fine neck, sure enough."
Jack shrugged and spread his hands. "Maybe so, maybe not. Still not part of our little dispute, though, so why bother bringin' him into it?"
The skull twisted completely around, and then the body followed as Barbossa winked. "Soft you are, Jack. Soft as melted butter." Quick as lightning, he had an arm draped over Norrington's neck. Waved away the guards' threatened blows when the commodore swore with uncharacteristic violence and tried to twist away. "Now, don' be angerin' me, sir. Not when I've the offer of your life, ready for the takin'."
"I wouldn't dream of taking anything from you," Norrington retorted in a thin tone, clearly swallowing down his impulse to attack.
"Harsh, too harsh-what's your name?" When he was met with nothing but raging silence, Barbossa whipped out a pistol and shoved its end beneath Norrington's chin. Then had another leveled at Jack before he could take more than a lunging step forward. "I don' brook insolence. Not from the likes of him when I can help it, an' not from a sheep-in-wolf's clothing like yourself."
Norrington glared at Barbossa's sharp arrogance, then flicked his eyes to Jack. His gaze might have softened, that instant while he admitted to "James Norrington," but it was back to Barbossa before Jack could tell for sure.
"James," Barbossa drawled, stretching out the name. He dropped the pistols and roughly caressed a stiff shoulder. "Well, then. James. I have a proposition for you. People can die in this world, an' then die in the other, so I suggest you consider my words with great care. You have a notorious pirate troublin' your Navy. Most likely troublin' your life as well. I have a pirate that has ruined my life-" one pistol raised vertically, like a bar over James' face "-so I think we have somethin' in common. Kill Jack, an' I'll let you go back. Free an' clear, promised on the powers."
Jack clenched his fists, closely watching James as the other man absorbed the offer, but the commodore's face betrayed absolutely nothing except a stony resolve. He didn't think James would agree; the man wouldn't be half so conflicted if his sense of honor and morality didn't clash so heavily with his sense of duty. On the other hand, James had just spent the past few days being thrown from nightmare to nightmare. His sense of anything was sorely strained right now, and as proof of that, Jack needed only recall the last words they had exchanged. And the odd almost-monologue that had followed afterwards. James' eyes, burning and agitated with the fierce torrent of emotion that Jack had suspected lay hidden beneath the cool exterior, but good God-it had been far more, and far deeper, than he had predicted.
"Kill Jack," James repeated in a monotone.
"Forever an' forever. No comin' back like myself. No. You'll be sure that he's gone for good, this time." Barbossa leered at his former captain while relishing each poisoned word that clicked out of his teeth. "Do we have an accord?"
Closed eyes, and breaking voice. "No."
Barbossa opened his jaw, closed it, and then seized James by the neck. "No?"
"No." James' words were steadier the second time. "No, we don't."
"Maybe you need more convincing," Barbossa hissed, voice bending and twisting as his skeleton wrenched itself about into-a remarkably accurate replica of an Admiralty Lord, Jack grudgingly had to acknowledge. "Commodore Norrington, are you refusing a direct order?"
"Probably. But if I killed him, then I could never live with myself. So I will not." James opened his eyes to turn an unwavering gaze on the transformed Barbossa. His face was spotted with dark where blows had struck home, his hair was hanging in tangles in his face, and Jack thought that he had never seen a better man in his entire life.
A snarl tore itself free of Barbossa's throat, shredding air as the enraged pirate yanked James out of his guards' hands and tossed him into Jack. "Fine, you pair of sorry bastards. But there's another say to be heard."
"Think I've heard about all I need to," Jack smirked as he steadied James. "As t'be expected, it's been a less than pleasant chat, but…"
His voice died off in direct relation to the growing sound of a skirt whisking against the planking. The Pearl held herself straight and tall as she glided to Barbossa's side, her eyes like ebony daggers into Jack's heart.
***
Jack felt lean and warm and wonderful, but the pirate's hands were painfully tight around James' arms. And then James was turned about and clutched to Jack's front as the other man snapped "No!" in a bleakly fearsome tone.
The woman, beautiful and terrible, bent a severe gaze to Jack, and James realized who she must be. What she must be asking. "Jack, she's your ship. You can't possibly give her up."
"She's not mine if she demands this of me." Jack clasped James even more closely as he began hauling them away from her sudden advance. His voice had become precise and clipped, just as it had during that moment in the alley. "You aren't her-I know her. I love her, and she loves me. You-" Jack caught himself on his own hiss and began again "-You I do not acknowledge. You have no claim on me."
"That seals your deaths," Barbossa called, stained teeth glowing putridly in the moonbeams. "She's the only ship that could manage the voyage out, Jack."
She had better not be, because now that James knew what he wanted and, moreover, knew what he was willing to do to get it, he had no intention of dying in an illusion.
Fake. Jacques had told him it wasn't real. It was all fake. All, except for his feelings and Jack's feelings and damn Barbossa's meddling, but those did not depend on some revenge-crazed monster's plans. God damn it, James wanted out-
"Christ!"
Exploding water. Planks vanished, Barbossa's unexpectedly outraged and fearful face vanished, the other pirates all vanished into the flooding upspray that engulfed and rippled and fractured-
***
"Christ!"
From the edge of the cave, Will and Elizabeth and all the rest stared in shock and heart-quaking horror as the Pearl disappeared in a sudden huge curtain of water that had surged, impossibly, up before her.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three-the veil dropped as inexplicably as it had come, revealing an untouched ship.
Will gasped, only then remembering to breathe. No need for embarrassment, as everyone around him were doing the same. "Thank God."
"Also, 'who would have thought?'" Elizabeth added. "Norrington, a water master? No wonder it's been so difficult for him, fighting his own nature."
***
"Dear God." James had an adorably bewildered expression as he took in the soft enveloping shadows just beyond their bodies. "What on earth happened?"
"Nothin' but y'self." Jack settled more securely on the other man's chest and began to pull off the lace ruffles, one by one. He let his fingertips graze over each bit of uncovered skin, feeling the minute shivers beneath him. "M'salute t'you, commodore. Th'ocean is kind enough t'favor me, certainly, but it'd appear she claims you as son."
"What…never mind." James attempted to sit up, but had to lie back again when he discovered his wrists were still bound. "Jack."
"Odd, I agree. Y've spent an awful lot of th'dream tied up." Quirked eyebrow got a dignified eyeroll. "Don' suppose it'd be a suggestion?"
"Jack, I have spent the past-actually, I don't know how many days-constantly off-balance." Slight hitches of breath every time another ruffle came loose from the shirt, and further down, subtle moving of legs. "And now…"
"…you're free?" Last bit of lace. Jack pressed an openmouthed kiss to the breastbone, and nibbled up it when James didn't complain.
"Yes, that too. But…Jack, that's distracting, and…hell and damnation. Kiss me before something else hap-"
Well, Jack was never one to turn down something like that. Especially not after all the trouble they'd gone through just to get-oh, now. James had clearly been holding out on him, because he certainly didn't remember that particular tongue trick. And-minor spasm of the mind, so he didn't recall it now. So he needed to get James to do that again, a task that he was more than happy to take up.
Finally able to pet and stroke that green velvet as much as he pleased, Jack gleefully seized the opportunity to thoroughly relearn the lines of James' body. And fine ones they were: well-muscled but clean and smooth. He craned down to lick at those half-veiled nipples through the gauzy shirt, indulging in that long temptation. Swirled wet spots into the fabric till it stuck to James as the other man arched over trapped wrists with a deep groan. Knees dragged over Jack's sides as they bent up, then brushed streaks of heat over his ribs.
Let it never be said that James wasn't his equal in any arena. Full of lovely surprises, the man was. Tongue flickering too cleverly around the inside of Jack's mouth, and then out to lap across his cheek and press wet kisses to his neck. Gorgeous and languorous wriggle against him, against his nursing of the one pebbled nipple. "Jack…what about…Jacques?"
And absolutely too much the gentleman, even now. "He's part an' parcel of me. Mine is his, an' his is mine. So what about him?"
"…nothing. Please carry on." Sweetest moan in any world. Jack grinned as he eased up the shirt hem…only to have all their clothes suddenly fade away. James lifted up briefly to give as errant a smile as any delinquent schoolboy's. "Sorry, but I really don't wish for any more interruptions."
"Pity," Jack replied in a mock-mournful tone as he slid himself up James, watching delightedly as the other man's head fell back. "I'd taken a fancy t'that coat of y'rs."
Slightly strained snort as James writhed under Jack's hands, which were slowly sneaking their way around each hip and down between the nicely-shaped buttocks. "I can always get one when we wake…and in better shape."
Jack licked along each winging collarbone, then was momentarily relieved to find that here, something to ease the way didn't seem to be necessary. "Isn't that breakin' some sort of regulation?"
"Jack. I've broken everything for you." Seriousness clouded over James' face, but he did not look away. "I love you, you realize."
At first, Jack thought that maybe Barbossa had come back yet again to strangle him from behind. But no, it was only him choking himself. Making James laugh at him-beautiful sound, but damn it, Captain Jack Sparrow did not blush--
--all right, all right. Just this one exception.
"You're speechless?" James chuckled. "And embarrassed-the legend demystified-"
Quite enough of that, when they had far better things to do. A little fingertwist, and Jack was gratified to see eyes rolling back to the whites and to hear a high, shameless cry. He hurried, racing the increasing pulse of urgency in his veins, and then, finally, he was in James. With permission, without having to bury the man's stubborn resistance in an overwhelming onslaught of sensory stimulation. Just himself, nothing else. Him surrounded in willing flesh. Greedy flesh, coming to meet his going and going to meet his coming. Squeezing the thoughts from him, leaving only James. Gasping and clutching at Jack like he would never let go, even while they rode this wild cresting wind. He opened his mouth, fought past the suffocating steam to say what he had to. Needed to. Wanted to. "I love you."
Jack felt the skin slipping beneath his fingers, felt his grip slackening and scrabbled to keep his handhold. Felt things start to blur and melt and run into shapes, shapes that flashed before him like a cascade of worlds, but he only clung closer. Dug his nails in and refused to ever, ever let go, even when his palms began to burn and every inch of his nerves rang loud with alarms. He held on till the water came pooling around, came like cooling salvation to cradle his shaking form and bring it softly back.
***
Jacques thought that his mind might have shattered. Only thought, because how could anyone know afterward if their mind had broken apart? For that matter, how was he still able to think after seeing-seeing-
Eyelids cracked very slowly, lazily, and two satiated gazes turned onto him, frozen in one corner of the thankfully large bed. Saucy smile firmly in place, Jack flopped over to place a hand on Jacques' thigh. "Y've been watchin' over us?"
"Oui-yes-Will and Carolina seemed to understand what needed to be done, so I stayed…" More than a few things had changed with that blast of magic a few minutes ago, Jacques noted. For one, James didn't seem to have any qualms about letting himself flow into Jack's side. For the other, there was a distinctly predatory glint in both men's eyes as they slinked up to him. "You…ah…defeated Barbossa?"
"For good," Jack affirmed, nuzzling at Jacques' knee while James went directly for the tender spots on Jacques' neck. "Don' believe I've thanked y'for y'r help wi' that."
"Oh, no need." Jacques could hear his voice start to fray as he was gradually pulled down onto the bed. "A salaud comme ça-like that-James? You're…I can feel water in you now…"
"Feels even better from a certain angle," Jack whispered. "Might we show you?"
***
With a satisfied air, Will regarded the pile of bullion that Carolina and Elizabeth had just finished purifying. "Now that that's settled…" he began to say as he turned back to look at the Pearl.
Carolina eyed his odd expression, then glanced over at Elizabeth. Who was wearing an identical one. "Is something wrong with Jack and the commodore?"
"No. Certainly not." Resignation filtered onto Will's face as he took his bemused wife by the arm. "They're fine. They're all perfectly fine. And I am very glad that we still have a lot of treasure to transport."
Oh. Of course Jack would celebrate that way. Carolina hid a smirk as she headed back to oversee her crew members, not envying the Turners one bit. After this triumph, it was going to take every eye that could be found to keep Jack out of trouble.
***