[Still Getting Cleaned Up] Sallie Reynolds and Captain Jack Sparrow, Mike's in labor.
"What the hell are you doin' out here? Mike's in the infirmary havin' your baby!"
Beads rattle wildly as his head jerks up. Jack stares at her, black eyes wide with horror.
"No he's not! He's having the lass's baby!"
He flattens one hand on the bartop as if to make his case that way.
A dry and cutting tone, and, "You were certainly a participant, last I could gather, Captain Sparrow. You could come and be supportive, at the very least.
"It's why you ain't been getting any service from Bar today - her attention's elsewhere."
Jack heaves a sigh.
"Why is it," he asks the air around him, "that everyone's seeming to
feel the need to place blame for something what was the lass's bit of
fun and choice besides?"
(Not that he himself had exactly been arguing, but that's not the point.)
His attention swings back to Sallie.
"I am being supportive, luv," he counters. "Brought the rum and the
silver before, didn't I? And happens as I'm staying right here
with the lass, and not in there what's not a place fit for a
man to be at a time like this, savvy? Think I was a bloody midwife or
something."
"Ain't nothing I said that had anything to do with blaming you, but think on it this way for a second while you're bemoaning your fate, hmm?"
Sallie gestures to the polished surface of the bar, her resolve not wavering in feeling Bar's quiet worry for Mike. "Go be there like she can't in person, alright, Jack? Call it a favor.
"And I'll cut off your bartab if you don't."
His jaw drops, then snaps shut with an audible click. The look Jack's
giving her is extremely wary.
"You're almost as bad as Tia Dalma when she wants something," he
mutters, then throws up his hands.
"Fine. 'S no good for the rum to be gone."
Beat.
"... they do have the rum there, aye? And the silver?"
Sallie gives Jack a bright smile for his trouble and pats him on the shoulder when he stands.
"Don't worry - I'll get you your damn liquor if you need it.
"All new fathers get a good toast to their fortune, of course."
:D!
He eyes her.
"Not for me. 's for the birth."
Oh my.
"I keep forgetting what century you're from - liquor is not quicker here, Captain. Let's go."
"But--"
Still protesting, Jack allows himself to be herded in the direction of the infirmary.
Beads rattle wildly as his head jerks up. Jack stares at her, black eyes wide with horror.
"No he's not! He's having the lass's baby!"
He flattens one hand on the bartop as if to make his case that way.
A dry and cutting tone, and, "You were certainly a participant, last I could gather, Captain Sparrow. You could come and be supportive, at the very least.
"It's why you ain't been getting any service from Bar today - her attention's elsewhere."
Jack heaves a sigh.
"Why is it," he asks the air around him, "that everyone's seeming to
feel the need to place blame for something what was the lass's bit of
fun and choice besides?"
(Not that he himself had exactly been arguing, but that's not the point.)
His attention swings back to Sallie.
"I am being supportive, luv," he counters. "Brought the rum and the
silver before, didn't I? And happens as I'm staying right here
with the lass, and not in there what's not a place fit for a
man to be at a time like this, savvy? Think I was a bloody midwife or
something."
"Ain't nothing I said that had anything to do with blaming you, but think on it this way for a second while you're bemoaning your fate, hmm?"
Sallie gestures to the polished surface of the bar, her resolve not wavering in feeling Bar's quiet worry for Mike. "Go be there like she can't in person, alright, Jack? Call it a favor.
"And I'll cut off your bartab if you don't."
His jaw drops, then snaps shut with an audible click. The look Jack's
giving her is extremely wary.
"You're almost as bad as Tia Dalma when she wants something," he
mutters, then throws up his hands.
"Fine. 'S no good for the rum to be gone."
Beat.
"... they do have the rum there, aye? And the silver?"
Sallie gives Jack a bright smile for his trouble and pats him on the shoulder when he stands.
"Don't worry - I'll get you your damn liquor if you need it.
"All new fathers get a good toast to their fortune, of course."
:D!
He eyes her.
"Not for me. 's for the birth."
Oh my.
"I keep forgetting what century you're from - liquor is not quicker here, Captain. Let's go."
"But--"
Still protesting, Jack allows himself to be herded in the direction of the infirmary.