Governess Swann
Title: Governess Swann
Author: nelliedances/Miss Ruby Tuesday
Rating: PG, to be safe
Pairings: Jack/Elizabeth
Warnings: Spoilers for the Rhumrunners' Island scene, though who's not see it?
Disclaimer: Sure I own it; I also have a great bridge for sale in Brooklyn, if anyone’s interested.
Summary: Missing bits from the time spent on Rhumrunners' Island.
Status: Complete in four chapters.
He leaned up against the palm tree, enjoying its shade, as well at the bottle of rhum he'd liberated from its dusty grave. He should be more upset, he knew, but somehow it didn't seem as bad as it had the first time. This was, quite possibly, owed to the fact that he wasn't alone this time. It was at this very moment that his companion chose to settle her half-dressed self down next to him, sullenly clutching an untouched bottle of rhum in her hands.
“So, this is it? We'll just sit here and wait, hoping that just maybe a passing ship or,” and here she sneered. “Sea turtle will pop up and rescue us?”
Jack nodded, swigging from his bottle. This was bloody grand rhum.
“You're going to do nothing except sit and drink? What will we do about shelter? What if there's a storm? Or wild beasts?”
Jack choked and sputtered on his rhum. “Luv, d'ye think this island is big enough to hold any fearsome, wild beasts?”
“I wouldn't know. I wasn't the one stranded... excuse me, marooned... here before. I should hope you'd protect me or, at the very least, tell me if there were. But you're no sort of gentleman, are you, Jack Sparrow?”
“Captain,” he said lazily as he tipped his hat down over his eyes. Angrily, she snatched the hat off his head.
“How dare you call yourself a captain when all you've done is get us into this mess? Really, I daresay the Commodore could have done a better job of my 'rescue' than this. And it's hot here and there's nothing to drink but this vile rhum and... and... and... I've sand in the cut on my hand!” She'd sunken to whining; a new low for her.
“Elizabeth,” Her head bobbed up, the use of her first name breaking her out of her tirade.
“Jack?”
“Tell me, do you ever shut up or does your mouth always flap like a loose sail in a hurricane?”
She opened her mouth, but no retort came out. How dare he say something like that to her? It wasn't as though any of this was her fault (well, maybe a little for lying about her last name), but still. She did not deserve such unspeakable rudeness, especially not from a pirate, of all things.
“It's Miss Swann!” She snapped. Why was it that she couldn't get the man she wanted to call her by her first name to and a man she didn't want to had no trouble at all?
“Governess Swann.”
She had been ready to start back into him again, but his reply stopped her cold. “What did you say?”
“I said,” he took his hat out of her hands and placed it back on his head. “Governess. Me and you, we're governors of this island all by ourselves. No stuffy king in England to decide what's best for a place he's never set foot, not preening, foppish birds to squawk and gossip. We'll do as we please with this pretty little place.” He expected her to slap him, to scream at him, to fly into unmitigated histrionics like so many other women he'd been with. But no, she shocked him. After a few minutes of disbelief, she laughed.
“Governess Swann. I do rather like that sound of that, Governor Sparrow. What should we do for our first act of sovereignty?”
“Drink to us!” He snatched her bottle from her hands, uncorked it, and took a swig before handing it back to her. She eyes it suspiciously, then shifted her gaze to his mouth, before finally throwing back the bottle and taking her own long draught from it. Her body shuddered convulsively as the liquor burned her throat.
“It's good stuff, eh?” he said, clapping her heartily on the back. She continued to choke, her face turning beet red.
“Lovely,” But even so, she took another swig, which went down far smoother than the first.
“There's a lass. Good girl!” His hands, involuntarily, started twirling the strands of her hair that brushed them. “You'll make a fine governess after all!”
“And this shall be the finest island paradise under the sun!” She leaned into his shoulder, just a little. Perhaps he wasn't as bad as she had first thought.
Author: nelliedances/Miss Ruby Tuesday
Rating: PG, to be safe
Pairings: Jack/Elizabeth
Warnings: Spoilers for the Rhumrunners' Island scene, though who's not see it?
Disclaimer: Sure I own it; I also have a great bridge for sale in Brooklyn, if anyone’s interested.
Summary: Missing bits from the time spent on Rhumrunners' Island.
Status: Complete in four chapters.
He leaned up against the palm tree, enjoying its shade, as well at the bottle of rhum he'd liberated from its dusty grave. He should be more upset, he knew, but somehow it didn't seem as bad as it had the first time. This was, quite possibly, owed to the fact that he wasn't alone this time. It was at this very moment that his companion chose to settle her half-dressed self down next to him, sullenly clutching an untouched bottle of rhum in her hands.
“So, this is it? We'll just sit here and wait, hoping that just maybe a passing ship or,” and here she sneered. “Sea turtle will pop up and rescue us?”
Jack nodded, swigging from his bottle. This was bloody grand rhum.
“You're going to do nothing except sit and drink? What will we do about shelter? What if there's a storm? Or wild beasts?”
Jack choked and sputtered on his rhum. “Luv, d'ye think this island is big enough to hold any fearsome, wild beasts?”
“I wouldn't know. I wasn't the one stranded... excuse me, marooned... here before. I should hope you'd protect me or, at the very least, tell me if there were. But you're no sort of gentleman, are you, Jack Sparrow?”
“Captain,” he said lazily as he tipped his hat down over his eyes. Angrily, she snatched the hat off his head.
“How dare you call yourself a captain when all you've done is get us into this mess? Really, I daresay the Commodore could have done a better job of my 'rescue' than this. And it's hot here and there's nothing to drink but this vile rhum and... and... and... I've sand in the cut on my hand!” She'd sunken to whining; a new low for her.
“Elizabeth,” Her head bobbed up, the use of her first name breaking her out of her tirade.
“Jack?”
“Tell me, do you ever shut up or does your mouth always flap like a loose sail in a hurricane?”
She opened her mouth, but no retort came out. How dare he say something like that to her? It wasn't as though any of this was her fault (well, maybe a little for lying about her last name), but still. She did not deserve such unspeakable rudeness, especially not from a pirate, of all things.
“It's Miss Swann!” She snapped. Why was it that she couldn't get the man she wanted to call her by her first name to and a man she didn't want to had no trouble at all?
“Governess Swann.”
She had been ready to start back into him again, but his reply stopped her cold. “What did you say?”
“I said,” he took his hat out of her hands and placed it back on his head. “Governess. Me and you, we're governors of this island all by ourselves. No stuffy king in England to decide what's best for a place he's never set foot, not preening, foppish birds to squawk and gossip. We'll do as we please with this pretty little place.” He expected her to slap him, to scream at him, to fly into unmitigated histrionics like so many other women he'd been with. But no, she shocked him. After a few minutes of disbelief, she laughed.
“Governess Swann. I do rather like that sound of that, Governor Sparrow. What should we do for our first act of sovereignty?”
“Drink to us!” He snatched her bottle from her hands, uncorked it, and took a swig before handing it back to her. She eyes it suspiciously, then shifted her gaze to his mouth, before finally throwing back the bottle and taking her own long draught from it. Her body shuddered convulsively as the liquor burned her throat.
“It's good stuff, eh?” he said, clapping her heartily on the back. She continued to choke, her face turning beet red.
“Lovely,” But even so, she took another swig, which went down far smoother than the first.
“There's a lass. Good girl!” His hands, involuntarily, started twirling the strands of her hair that brushed them. “You'll make a fine governess after all!”
“And this shall be the finest island paradise under the sun!” She leaned into his shoulder, just a little. Perhaps he wasn't as bad as she had first thought.