RL with notjackkerouac
Jack Sparrow, James decides at some point over the next month, is clearly trying to drive him mad. Completely bloody insane. After their date that month ago- because yes, it was a date, no point denying that- James had expected, maybe hoped for a call in a week or so, after Jack had served his three days in prison. But nothing. And then nothing
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There's a percieved challenge sharpening the edge of James' comment but Jack can't respond to it. Telling a story twice-over just isn't done; the magic is somehow ruined, like seeing a film before reading the book what belongs to it. Jack is not going to be the wordy footnote in the back that no one really cares about anyway.
"Go on, then, Jack," Theo prods, and Jack catches a look between him and James. James, who's fault this is anyway. Jack's never been unable to tell a story. It's cruel.
So it might be that Jack acts a little cruel back. "Not much left of the trial to tell after that... synopsis." He smiles thinly at James. "I was just thinking what a shame it would be not to have mentioned what happened after the trial. Those woods being far more interesting to explore, eh?"
Because James must have kept that bit to himself for a reason. Jack wants to know that reason, hopes its extraction is slightly uncomfortable for James. At least those two sentences, whatever they are, might lead to new adventures to be had.
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A scowl threatens to flit across his face at Jack's insinuation, but he quickly masters it. Whatever happened after the trial was hardly a big deal. Yes, they'd gone on a date. Yes, they'd had drinks and discussed Shakespeare, of all things. Yes, they'd... held hands under the stars and snogged in Kensington Park.
Good lord, they'd held hands under the stars and snogged in Kensington Park. Alright. Definitely not something he wants to discuss with both Jack and Theo present. It's something he would reasonably talk about with either of them on their own, but in combination, it becomes decidedly more awkward.
James clears his throat. 'I hardly think it's a topic worth exploring any further. We wouldn't want to bore Theo with unnecessary details, mmm?'
The look he shoots Theo pleads with him rather shamelessly not to ask about what happened after the trial. That he'll tell him later, but really, not now.
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That's a bit better.
"Oh, but let's not be so quick to judge," Jack says, tight smile morphing into a convining grin. He wiggles his fingers to stop James from interupting. "Theo my lad might not find the tale boring at all. I certainly don't."
And he won't to hear James' tell it. That night, for what little happened, somehow managed to be one of the most interesting times of Jack's life. James is one of the most interesting times of Jack's life. All Jack seems to want these days is a chance to know more and more about him.
"Undoubtedly cruel to deprieve the man of a good story," Jack adds, slouching in the chair like they're having the friendliest of chats. Theo goes mad for some of Jack's stories and Jack glances at him, assured that this time will be no different.
"It's really not necessary right now, Jack," Theo says, pointedly -- Jack is sure -- not looking at James. "I'm sure James can fill me in later."
Traitor. Jack can see what he's up against, and he supposes it's in the right this way. Theo, for all that Jack's spent time with him recently, is James' friend first. Jack's not one to get between that, or hold it against the man. His smile softens at Theo and he chuffs a bit of a chuckle.
"Fair enough, then. Just promise to ask him about Kensington Park."
And Jack has little doubt that Theo will.
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But that's certainly better than having to deal with that in front of Jack. 'Quite so,' he says smoothly. 'I'm glad somebody sees things my way.'
'Well, only sometimes,' Theo shoots back with a grin that promises mischief later. And with that, he tips back his glass, draining the last dregs of beer at the bottom, setting it down on the counter with a clink, and a smile at both Jack and James. 'Fascinating though this is, gentlemen, I have to head off. I told Andrew I'd meet him later tonight.'
That last is directed at James, and accompanied by a little quirk of one eyebrow that says and won't he be interested to know that you and Jack are old pals? James just rolls his eyes and shoos him off with a request not to get Andrew too riled up in his absence.
And then he's left alone with Jack Sparrow.
Brilliant.
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He kicks out Theo's vacated chair in a silent offer for James to sit. "Boyfriend?" he asks conversationally, actually half curious for the answer. "Andrew," he clarifies. "They together? Or just good mates?"
Jack's heard the name come up before anecdotally, usually paired with James, but he never let Theo go on much about it lest he somehow coerce Jack into revealing that his appreciation of Theo's stories went deeper than just polite curiousity. He's fairly sure Theo can work out the reasoning behind that now.
He doubts the answer to his question will be affirmative, however. Theo generally seems to be on top of things -- a quality Jack has come to realise belongs to most of James' acquaintances, a truth that bodes well for him -- and he has the sneaky suspicion that Theo left just to give Jack a chance to be alone with James.
Who seems to be suffering for that fact. Jack knew Theo couldn't be that much a traitor.
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'Boyfriend? Hardly.' And then, as if he feels the need to explain how the three of them- he, Andrew, and Theo- know each other, adds, 'We were all at school together.'
Andrew, he knows, will be hearing from Theo that something is going on between James and Jack Sparrow. Knowing Theo, he'll probably blow it out of all proportion, and Andrew, as the one James had sat and grumbled about Jack with whenever Theo wasn't there to join them, will be none too pleased. He's got more of a temper than either Theo or James, but really, James isn't terribly worried.
And even if he was, the notion of bearing the brunt of Andrew's wrath would be less important than the problem currently sitting right in front of him. James leans back against the bar, eying Jack with something in between idle curiosity and faint irritation.
'So, Jack, do tell, what have you been up to for the past few months?' His voice is light, purposefully so, tinged with a delicate edge of ire. 'Besides infiltrating every level of my social circle, that is.'
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Given the way James responded to his earlier question -- Jack saw his mouth twitch a little in amusement; that has to count for something -- it seems unlikely. But Jack's already determined that James is going to be his for the taking, and it would be good to know if there's anyone standing on the sidelines about to get in Jack's way.
Jack would liken it to rugby but he only played rugby the once, then sat on the kitchen counter as Teague fed him straight burbon while he stitched up Jack's knee. So that's out.
He considers ignoring James' question for a moment, hearing the underlying statement, but it's far more interesting being honest about it. "Surprisingly, that took up most of my time. Once Elizabeth decided that I should, that is." Jack smiles, perfectly pleased. "She's around here somewhere, by the way, if you wanted to say hi. I thought I'd introduce her to part of my social circle" -- some mockery there -- "just to repay the debt. You know quite the plethora of people who like you for being a lawyer." Jack raises his glass to that, as if it impresses him.
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That would translate, in case Jack has somehow managed to miss it, as an emphatic 'no.' He and Theo and Andrew are good friends- the best of friends, have been ever since they were all about fourteen. Even if Theo and Andrew weren't both quite comfortably heterosexual, getting involved with either (or both, apparently) of them would be immensely awkward.
He's snapped back into the conversation by Jack's words about Elizabeth, and he narrows his eyes. 'Your social circle? She's seventeen years old, Jack, for God's sake.'
True, he doesn't know what sort of a social circle Jack keeps, but he hardly imagines they're the sort Mr. Swann would want his impressionable, free-spirited daughter hanging around with. Nor, for that matter, would James. Elizabeth is very much a younger sister to him, and he likes to look after her when he can.
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Elizabeth seems to be another matter, and oh, she was right when she said that James could come off a touch too much Protective Older Brother. Jack feels the need to inform James of that, in fact. "Seems she was right about you." He raises his eyebrows over the rim of his glass, taking too much perverse pleasure in the fact that, apparently, Jack has been corrupting James' baby sister. "Seventeen's a fine age, anyway. He's only twenty or so. Son of an old mate of mine. Good, solid lad straight through. If anything, she'll be the one doing the damage to him."
He scans the room to see if he can spot them but Elizabeth said a quick hello to Will before dragging him off by his shirt sleeve to get into some sort of trouble -- at least, that's what Jack imagines Elizabeth had in mind with her cheeky parting comment of We'll see you two grandpas later to him and Theo.
Jack can't spot them, though, and it might be just as well. He doesn't plan to waste his few moments (wagers they'll be only a few moments, anyway) with James discussing other people. He puts his lips to the rim again but doesn't drink before placing it back on the table. "And your two months, Mr. Norrington. I take it they were filled with far more exciting things since we didn't see you around the pubs."
It's a tiny dig but earned for the way James balked at who Jack might have for friends.
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But still.
Never mind the fact that James himself had gone out with the man at the centre of the social circle this young man is a part of. Hypocrisy is an occasional side effect of being protective of one's friends.
He doesn't say any of this, though, instead merely nods a little, a small, wry smile curling his mouth. 'Elizabeth can occasionally have that effect, yes.'
Jack's question is both leading and slightly mocking, but James doesn't give him the satisfaction of going along with either. 'I am a law student,' he says coolly. 'Shockingly, that manages to take up most of my time. And if I've not run into you in... "the pubs," well; London's a big place.'
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He still hasn't gotten his question answered, about why he hasn't caught a glimpse of James in all this time, about why James refrained from mentioning Jack to his friends. Jack will just need to find other ways to ask.
Tracing small cirlces into the table top with a finger, Jack comments idly, "I find London to be the type of place that can be as big or small as a body sees it fit to be."
This is one of the few cities Jack's seen that's more than capable of that feat, shrinking and expanding depending upon the day. Jack's frequently run out of things to do before he's lost the will to do them. It's only been these two months that London has begun to seem far more filled with things to do and see. Or people to do and see.
Jack smirks, reaching to drain the rest of his beer. "Not trying to avoid me, are you?"
And it's a grand joke because Jack's purposefully made himself both impossible to find and to avoid.
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It's true that London can be big or small according, apparently, to its own whims. And James, theoretically, could easily have sought Jack out; accompanied Theo or Elizabeth on a night on the clubs when he knew Jack would be there. But really, he was hardly going to extend himself like that. He had his pride. It would hardly do to look as though he was mooning after Jack like some lovesick girl when he'd failed to ring.
That, and perhaps, maybe just a little, he was interested- when he wasn't too busy being driven mental- by Jack's mad game.
So he just shrugs. 'I don't see Tony Blair whilst wandering around London, but that doesn't mean I'm trying to avoid him. Mere chance, I assure you.'
Again, not strictly untrue.
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He dabs at the moisture caught on his mustache and stares at James, considering. "Flattered as I am to be considered on the same level as the Prime Minister, he's not the type to have been hearing stories about you from all your mates for the past few weeks."
And that might be more than Jack really wanted to admit to, that he's been asking after James, and for a while at that, but it has the added benefit of being true. Jack's taken his careful time to construct this game and maybe it would do some good for James to know.
Not that Jack will let it go at just that.
"The one about the absinthe is my personal favourite," he adds, smiling like he knows. Theo hadn't been very clear on the matter at the time, drinking the stuff with Jack a few nights back, and all Jack had manage to get from him is that Theo had been forbidden by James from ever discussing that night again, much to Jack's disappointed.
But James wouldn't know that Jack doesn't and the point of the matter is to make James realise Jack knows something.
"Seems hard to imagine that the stories don't go both ways. Not like you didn't know where I was, even if it weren't 10 Downing Street."
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Seemed rather counterproductive, really, but apparently that hadn't occurred to Jack, and James wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or slightly unnerved by that.
When Jack brings up absinthe, though, James is quite clear as to what he's feeling. The faintest hint of colour rises around his collar, and James takes a purposeful drink of his beer. Jack can't know the entire story, after all; James had threatened dire things to both Andrew and Theo if either of them talked to anybody else about that night. But still, the idea of Jack knowing any of that...
He seizes quickly on the next topic of conversation. Not that it in itself is anything he'd really like to discuss, but it's better than the other option. 'Oh, this and that.' He feigns casualness. 'I suppose I merely didn't see who my friends spent their time with as being something terribly pertinent to me.'
Nowhere in that sentence is contained the thought that I have heard about nothing but you for the past two month. Or at least, so he hopes.
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There's some temptation to ask James about it but Jack resists easily for two main reasons. It isn't very probable that James will tell him, for one, and for the other, Jack nearly (though not entirely -- somewhere around twenty percent) feels sorry for having brought it up if makes James that uncomfortable. A smaller part of him (eight percent -- not even, or maybe closer to thirteen) wants to lay a hand on James' wrist, tell him that it's fine whatever it is, that Jack has done far worse most likely and there's nothing to feel bad about. After all, Jack has no reason to want James to feel miserable, especially not around Jack.
But James is being difficult, the concept examplified quite nicely by his vague, curious comment. And all feeling of wanting to offer a proverbial olive branch disappears.
Right. Game still on.
"This and that, eh?" Jack rubs at a molar with his tongue, disgesting the truthfulness of that statement, and trying to decide how long he's going to pretend to believe it. The beer is gone so Jack stalls by patting down his pockets for a fag. He doesn't light it, though, rather tumbles it nimbly over and under his fingers on the table.
James, Jack is getting the impression, answers vaguely when he lies. Which means law school was also a lie. Not that James doesn't go there, but that he spent his time there. That means, Jack will wager, that James kept time the past two months the exact same way Jack kept time: listening to little more than his friends go on and on about the other.
Jack's grin morphs into something decidedly wicked. "So in this 'this and that'," he says slowly, stretching out the pauses between words ludicrously, "you didn't find yourself just the little bit curious about what more could be after that kiss in Kensington Park?"
He places the cigarette in his mouth and lights it, expectant of an answer. Right up until Elizabeth appears out of the haze of the pub with a happily surprised, "James! Oh, I didn't know you'd be here." Will trudges after her, dabbing lickstick stains from his mouth.
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But equally, he can hardly answer with the truth. It would be far too embarrassing to confess that Jack has somehow managed to be on his mind almost constantly for the past two months.
Something suitably vague, he supposes, and faintly acerbic, will have to do. However, before he can even open his mouth to start to speak, he's interrupted by the sudden voice and appearance of Elizabeth, materialising next to the bar, with some rather lost-looking boy behind her. She's flush and smiling, and James can't help but return the expression.
'Merely a happy chance,' he says, with a slight glance at Jack that betrays the sarcasm in his words. 'Though lovely as ever to see you.'
He lifts an eyebrow at her companion, inviting an introduction from one of the three of them. 'And this is...?'
'Oh!' Elizabeth laughs, one hand fluttering to her mouth. 'Of course, sorry. This is Will.' She glows at him, and Will lifts his chin slightly, an expression on his face that could be challenging but for the smear of lipstick that still remains. 'Will, this is James; I've told you about him.'
Will's a handsome young man, James can't fault him that; dark hair oiled into loose curls and an easy face. Earnest enough looking, he supposes, and certainly the way he'd followed after Elizabeth rather like a lost puppy would suggest just what Jack had said, that she was more likely to do any corrupting than he. But looks aren't everything, and James is entirely unwilling to trust him just yet, not until he knows a little more about him.
Still though, he holds out a hand to shake, after a moment. 'Will. Pleasure to meet you.'
Will's grip is firm- once again, almost challengingly so, and James nods; he can feel Will trying to get the measure of him just as he had done, and he lifts an faint eyebrow as he shakes Will's hand.
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