PotC - The Commodore's Christmas Gift (1/1) - Jack/James
Originally posted December 24, 2004
Title: The Commodore's Christmas Gift
Author: yakkorat
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Celebrate Christmas, Caribbean style. Jack and James' first Christmas together.
Beta: The ever amazing fleurdiabolique
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'd be waiting under my tree dressed only in red bows.
Dedication: To all of you who have loved me, and all who I have loved. Have a bright and blessed holiday season, no matter what holiday you choose to claim.
~~~~ The Commodore's Christmas Gift ~~~~
"Where in the name of all that is holy did you find a tree that big?"
"Shh," Jack hissed. "You'll spoil it!"
''But it's enormous," James protested. ''However will we get it through town without being seen?"
The pirate flashed him a broad grin and removed the tricorne from his trinket-laden head. He stuffed it surreptitiously between two branches and proceeded to pick up the tree. It obscured every inch of him.
James could barely keep from laughing at the sight: a giant fir tree with pirate legs. Surely someone would ask about the oddly dressed errand boy struggling through the streets with such an awkward burden. But as was usual, Jack's obfuscation worked flawlessly, and no one stopped them as they moved through the town of Port Royal and up to the commodore's modest home.
"We will never get it onto the table," James said once they'd managed to maneuver the Arbor through the door.
"No, but who needs it up there, love? Besides, there's just one tree for us both, and I thought, if we were going to unwrap our presents underneath it..." The pirate leered at him suggestively, and then swept his gaze all the way from the naval officer 's head down to his toes. A bolt of lightning shot through James, pooling fire in his groin as he allowed himself a moment to think about peeling back Sparrow's clothes from his lean, lithe body Christmas morning, leaving that bronzed skin flickering in the firelight, framed by a wreath of evergreen boughs.
"Very well. In the corner by the fireplace then. Not too near the fireplace, if you please."
"No, of course not."
"And I shall ask Tabitha bake some gingerbread cookies."
"Perfect. Now to find the girl."
"I 'eard you, good sir," the scullery maid said, bustling past with a basket of laundry and a huge smile. "And it's awful good to see you again, Captain."
Inwardly, James smiled, grateful as always for his serving girl's easy manner and absolute discretion.
"That's a good girl you've got there, James," Jack unknowingly agreed with his silent assessment.
James nodded. "I know. She'll have the cookies baked in an hour or two."
"What do you think, love? Here?" It was far enough away from the mantle to prevent a stray spark from reducing the Christmas tradition to tinder, but definitely close enough to fulfill the commodore's fantasy about unwrapping his pirate by firelight come morning. Absolutely perfect.
"Lovely," he said. "I'll just get out the tinsel."
"Is this piano in tune?" the pirate called after him.
"It is, but I'm afraid I don't play."
As he entered the storage pantry, James could almost hear Jack's answering smirk. "I do," Jack called, which didn't surprise the commodore a single bit.
James smiled at the scrape of wood on wood that meant his lover had pulled out the bench, and then the sweet, gentle melody of "Stille Nacht" began to fill the house. It was a simple tune: poignant and strangely reverent, considering the man who was playing it. Surprising and completely unbidden, the prickling of tears stung at the officer's eyes. As a child, this had been one of his favorite songs. Many happy holiday memories included singing this hymn, gathered around the piano with his father and brothers.
Had he even celebrated Christmas since the Admiral died?
He froze, his fingers splayed on a long-abandoned box tucked between a few other crates he had brought across from England but had never unpacked. No. He hadn't. This was the first time he had so much as hummed a carol since his father had passed nine years ago, the year before James had left England for good. Strange how one could simply overlook the holiday if one had no one with whom to share it. At that thought, his heart warmed a little. He had someone to share it with now. If they had to hide it from the rest of the waking world, save young Elizabeth and her William, so be it. He deliberately began to hum again and pulled the dusty box from the shelf.
It was the work of but a few moments to pull out the decorations they would use, and then James was back in his parlor, adding his rich baritone to Jack's tenor as they sang Christmas carols and giggled like schoolboys, the commodore's mood as light as he could ever remember it being. Half an hour passed like spring rain after winter's chill and soon Tabitha had the first batch of steaming gingerbread ready to add to the pile of tree dressing.
"Now then," the pirate smiled when the shapes had all been cut and tied with string, "shall we get started?"
And with that, the two men were off.
In the end, the tree was mostly decorated with tinsel and candles. Jack had some wire ornaments from his travels that he had brought, and Tabitha's gingerbread shapes dangled merrily from the boughs. When every last bit of cookie and tin had been hung, every last candle carefully placed and lit, the two men stood back to survey their work.
"Hmmm," Jack said, "I'm not sure."
James smiled. "I think it looks perfectly charming."
"It's just not personal enough. Here," he said, taking up his sash and untying it. "It needs a touch of us."
Careful not to disturb the strings of tinsel or - heaven forbid - the tiny flames of the candles, he wrapped the bolt of bright red fabric around the tree.
"Well, that's me, now, inn't it? Now," he said, looking far too studiously at James for comfort, "what about you?"
He stared at James for a moment, and then without warning reached forward to pluck the officer's wig from his head.
"I beg your pardon!" James protested, but it was no use.
"It's the very thing, Jamie-love," Jack insisted. And without another word, their Christmas tree was topped with the stiff white wig of His Majesty's Royal Navy.
For a moment, James could do nothing but stare, considering whether the affront to his dignity was worth more than the comic sight of this tree decked out with his wig and Jack's sash. As sturdy sailors' arms curled from behind him to encircle his waist and a beaded plait of beard came to rest on his shoulder, he had to admit that he was leaning rather more in favor of whimsicality.
"If you don't mind my sayin' so, sir," the maid said from the doorway, "I think it's the finest tree I've ever seen. Then again, things done with love always sparkle a bit brighter, don't they?"
Things done with love. God, they were lucky to have that child. "It looks wonderful," the officer finally breathed.
"It does, doesn't it?"
James could feel Jack's smile, and then the faintest brush of lips feathered over the skin of his neck. "I have a little something else for you," Jack whispered.
At the edge of his view, James saw Tabitha attempt to fight down a grin and nearly succeed. Then, she turned, smiling, and left them to themselves. Clever girl. "Really? And what might that be?"
"Sit down, love, and I'll give it to you."
As James settled himself on the sofa, the pirate reached into his waistcoat and produced a small, thin package, wrapped in brown paper, that filled James with a childish excitement the second he saw it. Suspecting he already knew what it contained, James tore into it with a dignified glee and was not disappointed.
"A sugar stick! I haven't seen one of these since I came from London. Where ever did you manage to find one?" he asked curiously.
"The choirmaster over at Christ's Church. He had them for the kiddies. I told him I had someone back home as sweet as sugar, asked him if I could take one."
James rolled his eyes ever so slightly at that bit of saccharine sentimentality, but then smiled again. "That was very kind of you, Jack. You shall have to share it with me."
To his surprise, the pirate captain shook his head. "No, thank you." Lowering himself to his knees between the commodore's legs, he reached for the laces of James' breeches. "You have your sugar stick, " he grinned wolfishly, flicking his eyes up to bore into James' with a consuming hunger that set the officer's belly ablaze, "and I have mine. Happy Christmas, Jamie."
For a single second, James raised a brow. Then he settled back in his seat and allowed himself to be devoured. "Happy Christmas, Jack," he smiled, as skilled hands and a far too talented mouth enveloped him in velvet bliss. ''Happy Christmas, indeed."
He popped the end of the sugar stick in his mouth and spun it joyfully. There would be no more overlooking the holiday now. No, he felt certain he was going to be looking very forward to Christmas next year.
And he couldn't imagine anyone better to share it with.
~ FIN ~
Author's Note: The use of Christmas trees was just starting to gain real popularity in this time period, although they were mostly small trees set on the table, one for each member of the family, under which that person's presents would be laid. The decorations Jack and James use are period accurate, though. Also, as you might have guessed, the plain white sugar stick was the predecessor to the candy cane, which to the best of my research started in England with a choirmaster giving them out to his children's choir. Again, it was only beginning to be popular in the time period, but I took a few liberties. *grin* It was in the interest of furthering the story. If I remember correctly, "Silent Night" is period appropriate (though again, whether it would have traveled to the Caribbean by this point is questionable), but I didn't look that one up so I could be wrong. EDIT: "Silent Night" is anachronistic here. But anyway, thank you for reading, and have a wonderful, wonderful holiday. I love you all.
Title: The Commodore's Christmas Gift
Author: yakkorat
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Celebrate Christmas, Caribbean style. Jack and James' first Christmas together.
Beta: The ever amazing fleurdiabolique
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'd be waiting under my tree dressed only in red bows.
Dedication: To all of you who have loved me, and all who I have loved. Have a bright and blessed holiday season, no matter what holiday you choose to claim.
~~~~ The Commodore's Christmas Gift ~~~~
"Where in the name of all that is holy did you find a tree that big?"
"Shh," Jack hissed. "You'll spoil it!"
''But it's enormous," James protested. ''However will we get it through town without being seen?"
The pirate flashed him a broad grin and removed the tricorne from his trinket-laden head. He stuffed it surreptitiously between two branches and proceeded to pick up the tree. It obscured every inch of him.
James could barely keep from laughing at the sight: a giant fir tree with pirate legs. Surely someone would ask about the oddly dressed errand boy struggling through the streets with such an awkward burden. But as was usual, Jack's obfuscation worked flawlessly, and no one stopped them as they moved through the town of Port Royal and up to the commodore's modest home.
"We will never get it onto the table," James said once they'd managed to maneuver the Arbor through the door.
"No, but who needs it up there, love? Besides, there's just one tree for us both, and I thought, if we were going to unwrap our presents underneath it..." The pirate leered at him suggestively, and then swept his gaze all the way from the naval officer 's head down to his toes. A bolt of lightning shot through James, pooling fire in his groin as he allowed himself a moment to think about peeling back Sparrow's clothes from his lean, lithe body Christmas morning, leaving that bronzed skin flickering in the firelight, framed by a wreath of evergreen boughs.
"Very well. In the corner by the fireplace then. Not too near the fireplace, if you please."
"No, of course not."
"And I shall ask Tabitha bake some gingerbread cookies."
"Perfect. Now to find the girl."
"I 'eard you, good sir," the scullery maid said, bustling past with a basket of laundry and a huge smile. "And it's awful good to see you again, Captain."
Inwardly, James smiled, grateful as always for his serving girl's easy manner and absolute discretion.
"That's a good girl you've got there, James," Jack unknowingly agreed with his silent assessment.
James nodded. "I know. She'll have the cookies baked in an hour or two."
"What do you think, love? Here?" It was far enough away from the mantle to prevent a stray spark from reducing the Christmas tradition to tinder, but definitely close enough to fulfill the commodore's fantasy about unwrapping his pirate by firelight come morning. Absolutely perfect.
"Lovely," he said. "I'll just get out the tinsel."
"Is this piano in tune?" the pirate called after him.
"It is, but I'm afraid I don't play."
As he entered the storage pantry, James could almost hear Jack's answering smirk. "I do," Jack called, which didn't surprise the commodore a single bit.
James smiled at the scrape of wood on wood that meant his lover had pulled out the bench, and then the sweet, gentle melody of "Stille Nacht" began to fill the house. It was a simple tune: poignant and strangely reverent, considering the man who was playing it. Surprising and completely unbidden, the prickling of tears stung at the officer's eyes. As a child, this had been one of his favorite songs. Many happy holiday memories included singing this hymn, gathered around the piano with his father and brothers.
Had he even celebrated Christmas since the Admiral died?
He froze, his fingers splayed on a long-abandoned box tucked between a few other crates he had brought across from England but had never unpacked. No. He hadn't. This was the first time he had so much as hummed a carol since his father had passed nine years ago, the year before James had left England for good. Strange how one could simply overlook the holiday if one had no one with whom to share it. At that thought, his heart warmed a little. He had someone to share it with now. If they had to hide it from the rest of the waking world, save young Elizabeth and her William, so be it. He deliberately began to hum again and pulled the dusty box from the shelf.
It was the work of but a few moments to pull out the decorations they would use, and then James was back in his parlor, adding his rich baritone to Jack's tenor as they sang Christmas carols and giggled like schoolboys, the commodore's mood as light as he could ever remember it being. Half an hour passed like spring rain after winter's chill and soon Tabitha had the first batch of steaming gingerbread ready to add to the pile of tree dressing.
"Now then," the pirate smiled when the shapes had all been cut and tied with string, "shall we get started?"
And with that, the two men were off.
In the end, the tree was mostly decorated with tinsel and candles. Jack had some wire ornaments from his travels that he had brought, and Tabitha's gingerbread shapes dangled merrily from the boughs. When every last bit of cookie and tin had been hung, every last candle carefully placed and lit, the two men stood back to survey their work.
"Hmmm," Jack said, "I'm not sure."
James smiled. "I think it looks perfectly charming."
"It's just not personal enough. Here," he said, taking up his sash and untying it. "It needs a touch of us."
Careful not to disturb the strings of tinsel or - heaven forbid - the tiny flames of the candles, he wrapped the bolt of bright red fabric around the tree.
"Well, that's me, now, inn't it? Now," he said, looking far too studiously at James for comfort, "what about you?"
He stared at James for a moment, and then without warning reached forward to pluck the officer's wig from his head.
"I beg your pardon!" James protested, but it was no use.
"It's the very thing, Jamie-love," Jack insisted. And without another word, their Christmas tree was topped with the stiff white wig of His Majesty's Royal Navy.
For a moment, James could do nothing but stare, considering whether the affront to his dignity was worth more than the comic sight of this tree decked out with his wig and Jack's sash. As sturdy sailors' arms curled from behind him to encircle his waist and a beaded plait of beard came to rest on his shoulder, he had to admit that he was leaning rather more in favor of whimsicality.
"If you don't mind my sayin' so, sir," the maid said from the doorway, "I think it's the finest tree I've ever seen. Then again, things done with love always sparkle a bit brighter, don't they?"
Things done with love. God, they were lucky to have that child. "It looks wonderful," the officer finally breathed.
"It does, doesn't it?"
James could feel Jack's smile, and then the faintest brush of lips feathered over the skin of his neck. "I have a little something else for you," Jack whispered.
At the edge of his view, James saw Tabitha attempt to fight down a grin and nearly succeed. Then, she turned, smiling, and left them to themselves. Clever girl. "Really? And what might that be?"
"Sit down, love, and I'll give it to you."
As James settled himself on the sofa, the pirate reached into his waistcoat and produced a small, thin package, wrapped in brown paper, that filled James with a childish excitement the second he saw it. Suspecting he already knew what it contained, James tore into it with a dignified glee and was not disappointed.
"A sugar stick! I haven't seen one of these since I came from London. Where ever did you manage to find one?" he asked curiously.
"The choirmaster over at Christ's Church. He had them for the kiddies. I told him I had someone back home as sweet as sugar, asked him if I could take one."
James rolled his eyes ever so slightly at that bit of saccharine sentimentality, but then smiled again. "That was very kind of you, Jack. You shall have to share it with me."
To his surprise, the pirate captain shook his head. "No, thank you." Lowering himself to his knees between the commodore's legs, he reached for the laces of James' breeches. "You have your sugar stick, " he grinned wolfishly, flicking his eyes up to bore into James' with a consuming hunger that set the officer's belly ablaze, "and I have mine. Happy Christmas, Jamie."
For a single second, James raised a brow. Then he settled back in his seat and allowed himself to be devoured. "Happy Christmas, Jack," he smiled, as skilled hands and a far too talented mouth enveloped him in velvet bliss. ''Happy Christmas, indeed."
He popped the end of the sugar stick in his mouth and spun it joyfully. There would be no more overlooking the holiday now. No, he felt certain he was going to be looking very forward to Christmas next year.
And he couldn't imagine anyone better to share it with.
~ FIN ~
Author's Note: The use of Christmas trees was just starting to gain real popularity in this time period, although they were mostly small trees set on the table, one for each member of the family, under which that person's presents would be laid. The decorations Jack and James use are period accurate, though. Also, as you might have guessed, the plain white sugar stick was the predecessor to the candy cane, which to the best of my research started in England with a choirmaster giving them out to his children's choir. Again, it was only beginning to be popular in the time period, but I took a few liberties. *grin* It was in the interest of furthering the story. If I remember correctly, "Silent Night" is period appropriate (though again, whether it would have traveled to the Caribbean by this point is questionable), but I didn't look that one up so I could be wrong. EDIT: "Silent Night" is anachronistic here. But anyway, thank you for reading, and have a wonderful, wonderful holiday. I love you all.