Fic: 'The Moral Advantage: After the Storm' (J/E - PG)
It's the first day of Christmas, and the blackpearlsails Twelve Days of Christmas Fic/Fanart Celebration is underway! We have pirates signed up for each of the Twelve Days, and I can't wait to see what everyone has in store for us!
What with one thing (sweet grandson, just turned two) and another (working clear up to the 21st this year) I have just a small gift for you today, another bit of my Jack/Elizabeth story, The Moral Advantage, using a recent blackpearlsails drabble prompt, pragmatic. The scene will be continued soon, too -- yay for Winter Break!
~ After the Storm ~
...hours later, when the Pearl was peacefully riding the swells of the aftermath and the rays of sunset peeked from under the clouds to gild the sea, Jack returned to the cabin to find her in his bed, blinking sleepily from amongst the many pillows.
“I’m afraid I could get used to this,” she murmured with a smile.
“So could I,” he agreed, and was rather astonished at how very true it was.
* * *
Jack was all for that Romance of the Seas business, and he had, on occasion, been known to admit to feelings for his beloved Pearl -- even to wax poetic on the subject. But he’d learned betimes that a pragmatical outlook was as essential to a successful pirate captain as his sword and hat. To be suspected of being “soft” was just asking for trouble.
Fate had given him three things that had always worked against him: empathy, a good memory, and a lamentably inconvenient conscience. Yet drink, denial, and determination had successfully counteracted these traits on most occasions, and for the rest... well, he’d done what he’d had to do.
Particularly when it came to Elizabeth Swann.
He stood there now, wet to the skin and probably making a puddle on the floor, staring at her in his bed... In. His. Bed.... and torn between longing to touch her... more than touch... more like devour her, top to toes, body and spirit both... make her his... make her...
And yet he was afraid, too. Afraid of moving too quickly. Of ruining their fragile accord.
Nothing at all pragmatical about it, which probably meant it was a bad idea. Best not...
And then, she lifted her hand, beckoning.
To be continued...
What with one thing (sweet grandson, just turned two) and another (working clear up to the 21st this year) I have just a small gift for you today, another bit of my Jack/Elizabeth story, The Moral Advantage, using a recent blackpearlsails drabble prompt, pragmatic. The scene will be continued soon, too -- yay for Winter Break!
~ After the Storm ~
...hours later, when the Pearl was peacefully riding the swells of the aftermath and the rays of sunset peeked from under the clouds to gild the sea, Jack returned to the cabin to find her in his bed, blinking sleepily from amongst the many pillows.
“I’m afraid I could get used to this,” she murmured with a smile.
“So could I,” he agreed, and was rather astonished at how very true it was.
* * *
Jack was all for that Romance of the Seas business, and he had, on occasion, been known to admit to feelings for his beloved Pearl -- even to wax poetic on the subject. But he’d learned betimes that a pragmatical outlook was as essential to a successful pirate captain as his sword and hat. To be suspected of being “soft” was just asking for trouble.
Fate had given him three things that had always worked against him: empathy, a good memory, and a lamentably inconvenient conscience. Yet drink, denial, and determination had successfully counteracted these traits on most occasions, and for the rest... well, he’d done what he’d had to do.
Particularly when it came to Elizabeth Swann.
He stood there now, wet to the skin and probably making a puddle on the floor, staring at her in his bed... In. His. Bed.... and torn between longing to touch her... more than touch... more like devour her, top to toes, body and spirit both... make her his... make her...
And yet he was afraid, too. Afraid of moving too quickly. Of ruining their fragile accord.
Nothing at all pragmatical about it, which probably meant it was a bad idea. Best not...
And then, she lifted her hand, beckoning.
To be continued...