We'll See
Title: We'll See
Rating: PG
Summary: Takes place a little after POTC... Jack and Anamaria share a moment.
“Jack.”
He is at the helm, wind blowing gently into his face, his dark braids flying back and the beads clicking softly as they collide. His coat, too, is running loosely past his back. She hears him sigh contentedly, and he begins humming something that seems to have no tune.
She sighs as well, only this one is exasperated. “Captain Sparrow!”
The name sends his head round to gaze at her questioningly. Good, she had caught him at the right moment. Not half-drunk, not outrageously flirtatious and not bloody angry like he’d been the night before. Good and normal, for Jack, and somewhat serious.
“You still owe me a boat, Jack,” she says, not quite as sternly as she had planned.
He furrows his brow and looks down. “Ah.” Releasing the helm gently, he slowly steps down a bit and turns to face her. “Yes, that still presents a small problem, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not asking for a fleet, you know, I just want a little boat where I can catch all the fish I like and make a profit with money to spare and a little peace and quiet.”
Jack draws his breath in slightly. “You know on first hearing, love, that sounds like an awfully lot of things.”
Anamaria groans and throws her hands up. “It’s just a little boat! You pillage entire cities and yet rounding up a wretched fishing dory is a bleeding challenge.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, then sashays up to her, stopping with a little jolt. “Ana, here’s the thing - I can’t spare anyone in this ‘ere crew until we steers ourselves to Isla de Muerta, takes what’s uncursed and makes berth someplace where they WILL, I assure you, have your blessed floating refuge. But - you’re just going to have to be patient, love.” He makes his way back up to the helm. “And who knows? By then, you might even want to stay on as part of my crew.”
Something in his tone just then arrests her. “You would want me to stay?” she asks cautiously.
He turns back. “Well of course I would. Ships, you know… they…” He trails off and stares out to the sun-tinted waves, glistening bright sparks of white and blue.
Uncertainity lingers for only a second. Another sigh from Jack, and this time a warm, small body is soon close against his chest, two more hands delicately touching the smooth surface of the helm. Her back touches his rough white shirt, and her black hair brushes lightly on his neck. He runs a hand down her arm and they gaze out at the sea together.
“We’ll see.”
- end -
Rating: PG
Summary: Takes place a little after POTC... Jack and Anamaria share a moment.
“Jack.”
He is at the helm, wind blowing gently into his face, his dark braids flying back and the beads clicking softly as they collide. His coat, too, is running loosely past his back. She hears him sigh contentedly, and he begins humming something that seems to have no tune.
She sighs as well, only this one is exasperated. “Captain Sparrow!”
The name sends his head round to gaze at her questioningly. Good, she had caught him at the right moment. Not half-drunk, not outrageously flirtatious and not bloody angry like he’d been the night before. Good and normal, for Jack, and somewhat serious.
“You still owe me a boat, Jack,” she says, not quite as sternly as she had planned.
He furrows his brow and looks down. “Ah.” Releasing the helm gently, he slowly steps down a bit and turns to face her. “Yes, that still presents a small problem, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not asking for a fleet, you know, I just want a little boat where I can catch all the fish I like and make a profit with money to spare and a little peace and quiet.”
Jack draws his breath in slightly. “You know on first hearing, love, that sounds like an awfully lot of things.”
Anamaria groans and throws her hands up. “It’s just a little boat! You pillage entire cities and yet rounding up a wretched fishing dory is a bleeding challenge.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, then sashays up to her, stopping with a little jolt. “Ana, here’s the thing - I can’t spare anyone in this ‘ere crew until we steers ourselves to Isla de Muerta, takes what’s uncursed and makes berth someplace where they WILL, I assure you, have your blessed floating refuge. But - you’re just going to have to be patient, love.” He makes his way back up to the helm. “And who knows? By then, you might even want to stay on as part of my crew.”
Something in his tone just then arrests her. “You would want me to stay?” she asks cautiously.
He turns back. “Well of course I would. Ships, you know… they…” He trails off and stares out to the sun-tinted waves, glistening bright sparks of white and blue.
Uncertainity lingers for only a second. Another sigh from Jack, and this time a warm, small body is soon close against his chest, two more hands delicately touching the smooth surface of the helm. Her back touches his rough white shirt, and her black hair brushes lightly on his neck. He runs a hand down her arm and they gaze out at the sea together.
“We’ll see.”
- end -