PotC Advent Calendar: December 13 ~ FDTD Chapter 8
Title: Contemplations (From Dusk to Dawn 8/?)
Characters: Cutler Beckett
Pairings: past Beckett/Jack, slight Will/Elizabeth
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 181
Summary: Cutler is bored.
This is also an unforgivably belated welcome fic for bunchesofroses, (yes, it took me a month), who wanted something about Cutler's thoughts on Jamaica. This might not be what you had in mind but I hope you still like it.
Contemplations
It was almost boring. They were all so predictable, so unlike Jack. Jack… What would Jack do? Talk. Be playing for time. But at the same time thinking quickly and no one would see the exact moment when the talking is not rambling anymore but a carefully chosen tool. Jack would surprise him. Outwit him. And grin. Oh, that infuriating grin he has been craving to wipe off that face for so long. A face that used to be so much younger. More charming, less handsome. Yes, Jack would be a worthy opponent.
But these people. Walking around with their heads down, talking in muffled voices, just like under any decent tyrant - pitiful. A handful of reckless men questioning the rightfulness of his actions - completely unprepared for Mercer’s swift justice. The boy, with all his outdated heroism, running off to hunt down the compass and rescue his wild cat from the gallows. And the kitty showing her tiny, laughable claws after the plan of daddy dearest has failed so spectacularly.
Boring. Boring. Boring.
She could at least have pulled the trigger.
Characters: Cutler Beckett
Pairings: past Beckett/Jack, slight Will/Elizabeth
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 181
Summary: Cutler is bored.
This is also an unforgivably belated welcome fic for bunchesofroses, (yes, it took me a month), who wanted something about Cutler's thoughts on Jamaica. This might not be what you had in mind but I hope you still like it.
Contemplations
It was almost boring. They were all so predictable, so unlike Jack. Jack… What would Jack do? Talk. Be playing for time. But at the same time thinking quickly and no one would see the exact moment when the talking is not rambling anymore but a carefully chosen tool. Jack would surprise him. Outwit him. And grin. Oh, that infuriating grin he has been craving to wipe off that face for so long. A face that used to be so much younger. More charming, less handsome. Yes, Jack would be a worthy opponent.
But these people. Walking around with their heads down, talking in muffled voices, just like under any decent tyrant - pitiful. A handful of reckless men questioning the rightfulness of his actions - completely unprepared for Mercer’s swift justice. The boy, with all his outdated heroism, running off to hunt down the compass and rescue his wild cat from the gallows. And the kitty showing her tiny, laughable claws after the plan of daddy dearest has failed so spectacularly.
Boring. Boring. Boring.
She could at least have pulled the trigger.