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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: James/Will, ref. to James/Will/Jack
Feedback: Good lines, bad mistakes, ugly characterization. Whatever you please.
Disclaimer: Stupid mouse won't let me have them.
Notes: Takes place between Sword I and Sword II.
Summary: Will and James have a free moment. For penm, in payment for the icon.
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"So wherever he is at the moment, Sparrow has one identical to mine strapped to him." A musing expression on his face, James doffed his hat and turned the beautifully-worked sheath of his sword over in his palms. "Suppose it's for the best that we have a…truce, then. I would hate to cross blades with another of this like."
Delicately flicking the tricorne away from James' hip, Will flopped down next to the other man, leaning both against the tree behind him and James. "Good. Because I didn't make them to be used in that manner." He ran one loving finger across the hilt, feeling into every dip and ridge. "How did you get away so early? Don't you have reviews today?"
"Gillette was a bit too enthusiastic with the cannonfire practice yesterday, so I've put him in charge of today's drills." Looking somewhat strained about the mouth, James pulled the sword away from Will's exploratory fingertips and, lifting it over Will's head, set it down on the other side of the blacksmith. He didn't bother removing his arm from around Will. "So many years in the Caribbean, and I haven't appreciated the lovely days here nearly as much as I should have."
"It's a good sea today." Yawning a little, Will settled into the curve of James' side. "Brisk wind, and-" he sniffed "-no storms anytime soon."
"You're leaving, aren't you." Almost imperceptibly, James' grip tightened, and he leaned down to briefly press lips against Will's temple. "I won't stop you. It would help."
"You and Jack…you're so alike, sometimes," Will remarked pensively, tilting his chin up to accept a kiss. He trailed his lips down to James' collar, then nestled back. "Back when Governor Swan helped me get an apprenticeship, he gave me a choice. And I picked blacksmith, because…" his brows drew together in a thoughtful frown "…it called to me, in a way. I'm not all water and sand, James. I like dirt and metal."
"Then you'll return." James didn't mention the fourth of them, who had followed the receding tide past recall. "Thank God," he said very, very quietly.
Over the edge of the cliff before them, a few albatrosses circled gaily on an updraft, swirling higher and higher until to the two men, they seemed nothing more than specks of pearl hanging in the air. The sailor's omen, always soaring just past the horizon.
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