A Busy Week
We are (more or less) ready for the opening of school. I've been working very late most nights, and still need to go in tomorrow. I want to go through the TWO TUBS OF MAIL (grrrrrr...)(90% junk, as always), and get packets ready for the classified staff (all of whom start next Tuesday except for us paper-shufflers), and put some artwork & plants and books back where they belong, to give it a homier look.
ladymora and dr_mrow are off to Victoria, B.C. for a week of third anniversary fun. How I envy them! What a beautiful place to spend a week.
Well, in spite of having a million things to do, I managed to find time to write Pirate Smut a story. There was a 'Lessons' drabble challenge at B.P. Sails, and a Descriptive Writing assignment at LWC, so I finished an overgrown drabble I began clear back in February (for Valentine's Day). This piece may not make sense unless you've read my first long fic, Harry & the Pirate: it's a "deleted scene" that takes place during the last chapter. (I'm still considering posting the Harry & the Pirate stories here. FF.net formatting is a bit screwed up, and it's so nice to be able to edit things if one finds an error or wants to change a sentence or two. Perhaps for archival purposes...)
Disclaimer: Disney’s (except Harry, of course)
Harry & the Pirate: Second Night
“Come on!”
Jack opened the door of his cabin with careful stealth, wincing at the slight creak. Harry slipped past him into the passage, dressed in his shirt, the tails of which hung past her knees, and a Spanish shawl. Lord, what lovely legs…and her feet! Bare, and kissably perfect…no, wait. Hadn’t they decided to briefly rest from…that? That. He sighed inwardly. Think of something else. The ship. The Pearl. That’s it. Show her what it feels like to hold the wheel, man the helm, steer the ship. Yes. Nearly on a level with…that. Really. Well, not really, but all the same…
He shut the door, closing the glow of the lantern behind it. Went past her-kissed her, quickly, bumping noses with her in the faint light-up the passage to the steps, barefoot himself, wearing only his breeches: companion to the shirt she wore. Climbed the steps and peeked out warily. It was between three and four in the morning, as close as he could tell, and likely only the helmsman and maybe the watch at the bow on deck. The wind had been gentle but steady out of the southeast all night, the sea smooth with slight swells. Perfect for sleeping. And other things.
Sure enough, there was Cotton, gnarled hands on the wheel as they often were in the small hours, his blue and gold macaw settled on his shoulder. Jack turned. Harry was below him, looking up at him expectantly. Irresistibly. He went back down the steps and drew her close, and kissed her again. Her hands moved over his bare back, feather light, then down, one slipping under the edge of his breeches. He moved his mouth over to her ear and whispered, “Stop that, or we’ll have to go back inside.”
Her hand stilled, and she looked up at him, her eyes laughing. “Stop?” she said softly, dramatically disappointed.
“Aye, you rogue. Come on!”
She smirked at him and he grinned crookedly, took her hand and pulled her up the steps behind him.
They emerged quietly onto the deck. The air was soft and warm even with the breeze, and the stars were bright in the black velvet of the sky, the moon having set early. For a long moment they both paused, each of them lost in the sounds and scents of the sea and the Black Pearl. Jack thought there was no place more perfect in this world than where they were now, and looking at her he saw that Harry felt the same: her lips parted, her eyes gazing in awe at the beauty of the night. He drew her close and kissed her again, and the taste and feel of her was sweet as starlight…
Jack drew back a little finally, and looked at her, his heart thudding. She was similarly effected, a more serious look in her eyes and on her lips. Her brow creased, and she reached up and laid her hand against the side of his face, a still caress. Then she took a deep breath, and smiled. “Show me, then.”
Show her. For a moment he couldn’t remember what. A dawn at sea so beautiful it brought tears to your eyes? The wonders of the world? The magic and mystery that was the sea?
His heart?
“The helm…remember?” she supplied, then swiftly kissed him, whispered, “I love you,” caught his hand and pulled him out of the shadows.
He recovered somewhat as they made their way to the helm, enough to clear his throat and look down his nose at the interested Cotton. “We’ll spell ye for a bit, aye?”
Cotton nodded, his eyes crinkling as he took in their state of undress with frank enjoyment. The parrot said nothing for once, but turned his head nearly upside down, staring. Harry stifled a giggle.
Grinning like a fool, Jack took hold of the wheel and pulled his ladylove to stand in front of him as Cotton departed. “Take hold of it,” he directed her. Seeing her slender, pale pink fingers close around the spokes, he moved her silken hair out of the way and kissed the soft skin behind her ear, breathing in her scent. “God but you do that well,” he murmured.
She leaned into the kiss and replied in the same lascivious tone, “I’ve had a great deal of practice recently.”
He chuckled.
His hands wrapped lightly over her smaller ones and he settled himself close behind her. “Can you feel it? The Pearl, I mean,” he added with mock severity when she provocatively wriggled back against him.
“Oh.” She stilled, thankfully, and then fell quiet. After a while, she said, “Yes. She’s…she’s like a live thing!”
“She is alive,” he asserted.
They didn’t speak much after that, both of them inexorably drawn into and brought under the Pearl’s spell as she carried them onward, through sea and night sky, shoulders brushed by stars, feet and legs absorbing the language of wave and wind, hands and arms hearing words that were perfectly intelligible for all their silence, coaxing, demanding their response. The slight adjustments to the wheel were as natural as breathing to Jack, and Harry learned quickly, her movements soon matching his as though by instinct.
He finally said a few words: “She likes you.”
“Yes.”
A long silence again, the silence of harmony. Jack’s mind wondered at it, at the newness of it, the unexpectedness…but what had Bill said? When it’s right, you’ll know it. He’d laughed, and teased, and Bill had smiled and shook his head. You’ll learn, if you’re lucky.
Apparently, he was.
Not treasure precisely, as he’d suggested to Will all those months ago. More like discovering a part of himself he hadn’t known was missing.
She slipped her hands from under his and turned within the span of his arms to face him, caught there, between the Pearl’s wheel and his body, her expression a reflection of his own. Her breath caught, same as his. He kept hold of the wheel with one hand, but his other arm went ‘round her shoulders to draw her close as she twined hers about his neck to kiss him. Starlight, and silk; drowning and taking joy in it.
He sensed Cotton’s hand on the wheel again, and they both looked up, startled. The old man smiled at them, his parrot fluffing up contentedly. Jack nodded, briefly, and gave over the helm. Then he bent, and scooped Harry up, light and clinging, his whispered name on her lips. Time to lose himself in her again, he thought as he carried her back across the deck.
Or maybe find himself.
ladymora and dr_mrow are off to Victoria, B.C. for a week of third anniversary fun. How I envy them! What a beautiful place to spend a week.
Well, in spite of having a million things to do, I managed to find time to write Pirate Smut a story. There was a 'Lessons' drabble challenge at B.P. Sails, and a Descriptive Writing assignment at LWC, so I finished an overgrown drabble I began clear back in February (for Valentine's Day). This piece may not make sense unless you've read my first long fic, Harry & the Pirate: it's a "deleted scene" that takes place during the last chapter. (I'm still considering posting the Harry & the Pirate stories here. FF.net formatting is a bit screwed up, and it's so nice to be able to edit things if one finds an error or wants to change a sentence or two. Perhaps for archival purposes...)
Disclaimer: Disney’s (except Harry, of course)
Harry & the Pirate: Second Night
“Come on!”
Jack opened the door of his cabin with careful stealth, wincing at the slight creak. Harry slipped past him into the passage, dressed in his shirt, the tails of which hung past her knees, and a Spanish shawl. Lord, what lovely legs…and her feet! Bare, and kissably perfect…no, wait. Hadn’t they decided to briefly rest from…that? That. He sighed inwardly. Think of something else. The ship. The Pearl. That’s it. Show her what it feels like to hold the wheel, man the helm, steer the ship. Yes. Nearly on a level with…that. Really. Well, not really, but all the same…
He shut the door, closing the glow of the lantern behind it. Went past her-kissed her, quickly, bumping noses with her in the faint light-up the passage to the steps, barefoot himself, wearing only his breeches: companion to the shirt she wore. Climbed the steps and peeked out warily. It was between three and four in the morning, as close as he could tell, and likely only the helmsman and maybe the watch at the bow on deck. The wind had been gentle but steady out of the southeast all night, the sea smooth with slight swells. Perfect for sleeping. And other things.
Sure enough, there was Cotton, gnarled hands on the wheel as they often were in the small hours, his blue and gold macaw settled on his shoulder. Jack turned. Harry was below him, looking up at him expectantly. Irresistibly. He went back down the steps and drew her close, and kissed her again. Her hands moved over his bare back, feather light, then down, one slipping under the edge of his breeches. He moved his mouth over to her ear and whispered, “Stop that, or we’ll have to go back inside.”
Her hand stilled, and she looked up at him, her eyes laughing. “Stop?” she said softly, dramatically disappointed.
“Aye, you rogue. Come on!”
She smirked at him and he grinned crookedly, took her hand and pulled her up the steps behind him.
They emerged quietly onto the deck. The air was soft and warm even with the breeze, and the stars were bright in the black velvet of the sky, the moon having set early. For a long moment they both paused, each of them lost in the sounds and scents of the sea and the Black Pearl. Jack thought there was no place more perfect in this world than where they were now, and looking at her he saw that Harry felt the same: her lips parted, her eyes gazing in awe at the beauty of the night. He drew her close and kissed her again, and the taste and feel of her was sweet as starlight…
Jack drew back a little finally, and looked at her, his heart thudding. She was similarly effected, a more serious look in her eyes and on her lips. Her brow creased, and she reached up and laid her hand against the side of his face, a still caress. Then she took a deep breath, and smiled. “Show me, then.”
Show her. For a moment he couldn’t remember what. A dawn at sea so beautiful it brought tears to your eyes? The wonders of the world? The magic and mystery that was the sea?
His heart?
“The helm…remember?” she supplied, then swiftly kissed him, whispered, “I love you,” caught his hand and pulled him out of the shadows.
He recovered somewhat as they made their way to the helm, enough to clear his throat and look down his nose at the interested Cotton. “We’ll spell ye for a bit, aye?”
Cotton nodded, his eyes crinkling as he took in their state of undress with frank enjoyment. The parrot said nothing for once, but turned his head nearly upside down, staring. Harry stifled a giggle.
Grinning like a fool, Jack took hold of the wheel and pulled his ladylove to stand in front of him as Cotton departed. “Take hold of it,” he directed her. Seeing her slender, pale pink fingers close around the spokes, he moved her silken hair out of the way and kissed the soft skin behind her ear, breathing in her scent. “God but you do that well,” he murmured.
She leaned into the kiss and replied in the same lascivious tone, “I’ve had a great deal of practice recently.”
He chuckled.
His hands wrapped lightly over her smaller ones and he settled himself close behind her. “Can you feel it? The Pearl, I mean,” he added with mock severity when she provocatively wriggled back against him.
“Oh.” She stilled, thankfully, and then fell quiet. After a while, she said, “Yes. She’s…she’s like a live thing!”
“She is alive,” he asserted.
They didn’t speak much after that, both of them inexorably drawn into and brought under the Pearl’s spell as she carried them onward, through sea and night sky, shoulders brushed by stars, feet and legs absorbing the language of wave and wind, hands and arms hearing words that were perfectly intelligible for all their silence, coaxing, demanding their response. The slight adjustments to the wheel were as natural as breathing to Jack, and Harry learned quickly, her movements soon matching his as though by instinct.
He finally said a few words: “She likes you.”
“Yes.”
A long silence again, the silence of harmony. Jack’s mind wondered at it, at the newness of it, the unexpectedness…but what had Bill said? When it’s right, you’ll know it. He’d laughed, and teased, and Bill had smiled and shook his head. You’ll learn, if you’re lucky.
Apparently, he was.
Not treasure precisely, as he’d suggested to Will all those months ago. More like discovering a part of himself he hadn’t known was missing.
She slipped her hands from under his and turned within the span of his arms to face him, caught there, between the Pearl’s wheel and his body, her expression a reflection of his own. Her breath caught, same as his. He kept hold of the wheel with one hand, but his other arm went ‘round her shoulders to draw her close as she twined hers about his neck to kiss him. Starlight, and silk; drowning and taking joy in it.
He sensed Cotton’s hand on the wheel again, and they both looked up, startled. The old man smiled at them, his parrot fluffing up contentedly. Jack nodded, briefly, and gave over the helm. Then he bent, and scooped Harry up, light and clinging, his whispered name on her lips. Time to lose himself in her again, he thought as he carried her back across the deck.
Or maybe find himself.