Bluebottle
Title: Bluebottle
Author: nelliedances/Miss Ruby Tuesday
Rating: R
Pairings: Jack/Elizabeth
Warnings: Wee ones for DMC
Disclaimer: Sure I own it; I also have a great bridge for sale in Brooklyn, if anyone's interested.
They’d been drinking since sunset. Jack was sceptical at first, accepting a meeting with Elizabeth’s original ex-fiancé, the illustrious ex-commodore James Norrington, but in the end, his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He’d told a tiny bit of a mistruth to Liz, only mentioning he was going to see another captain about a matter and that he’d like her to remain on board for the evening.
Oh, she’d been spitting mad about it. He’d had to plead and cajole her and practically promise her the Pearl before she’d agreed to a watch with Mr. Cotton until he returned. She’s still sulked the rest of the day, fending off his caresses, and grousing at how he’d turned her into practically a kept woman. He’d retorted that no one in their right mind would keep her, so how could she possibly be a kept woman? She’d finally laughed when he said that and told him she’d stay, but he’d best bring her something back… something shiny.
The ex-commodore had turned out to be a surprising wealth of information. He’d given Jack the heads up on several treasure galleons that would be making their way from Cartagena towards Spain earlier than scheduled in hopes of foiling any pirate attacks. Jack had offered him twenty percent of the plunder, expecting him to demand more, but, pleasantly, he hadn’t and they’d shaken on it. Business out of the way, both men had set about to drinking themselves insensible and spinning yarns about the adventures they’d had since they had last met.
They stumbled out of the tavern at an obscenely late hour, laughing and singing, and begun to stagger their way back to the harbour.
“So,” James said, throwing his arm around Jack’s shoulder in a fit of inebriated camaraderie, causing them both to stumble. “How is life aboard with bloody Elizabeth Swann?”
“Mate,” Jack grinned. “She is fantastic. Damned girl has a nose for treasure, an eye for plotting courses, and the rest of her ain’t bad, either. But you know that.”
“Too headstrong for her own good and beautiful enough to be dangerous, I always felt.”
“You should see her handle a sword! You’d think she was born with one in her hand.”
“She always was eager to learn.”
Jack stopped abruptly, making Norrington nearly fall. “That’s not a nice insinuation to make about her,” he slurred angrily.
“I meant nothing ill, Captain Sparrow, just that she was a bit of a daredevil ever since she was a mere slip of a girl. Have you ever seen the scar at her hip? Runs all the way down to the middle of her thigh?”
“’Course I have. She told me all about it,” Jack lied through clenched teeth, suddenly wanting to hit his companion very much.
“Did she, now? Does she keep no secrets from you at all, Jack?” Norrington grinned wickedly, as he took a step away. “I’d be more than happy to give you additional information if you require it, but for now, Captain Sparrow, I must take my leave. Do give my warmest regards to the lovely Lady Swann.”
Jack scowled at Norrington’s shrinking form, suddenly all too aware that his peace of mind might have been the price he paid for the information.
Elizabeth woke to the feeling of someone hovering over her; someone who smelled very much of rhum.
“Jack?” Her voice was so groggy with sleep that Jack felt a slight twinge of guilt for waking her.
“How’s bloody Norrington know about your scar?” he slurred. His hands were all over her, sliding under her shirt and running along down her waist to her hip to trace the pebbled skin in question.
“What? Jack, what are you on about?” He pressed his lips hard against hers, shifting to pin her down with his body. She gasped into his mouth. “Are you drunk?”
“I am. Very drunk, in fact, darling.” He held her wrists fast in one hand as he pulled her shirt up to expose the bead-like scars that curled over her hip. She strained up against his rough, warm palm as he stroked them tenderly. “And I want to know why God damned James Norrington knows about something in such an …intimate… location.” His hand traced over them and to the inside of her thighs, making the muscles twitch.
“Mm,” she moaned as his hand ghosted over her. “He was there.” She struggled to free her hands from his grip.
“You little minx,” he whispered, misunderstanding her, as he nipped her collarbone. “You said you were a maid when you came to me. S’pose I should’ve worried about your first fiancé rather than the second. Norrington always had more bollocks.”
She snapped her eyes closed when he slipped his hand between her thighs. “I was a maid,” she forced out with considerable effort. “He-oh!-was there when the accident happened.”
He increased the pressure of his fingers. “When what happened? I don’t like other people’s secrets, dearie, especially when they’re kept from me.”
“I was 13, just after the crossing from England,” she panted, grinding her hips against his palm. “I... God, Jack! …Had been swimming in one of the coves, ran into a bluebottle in the water. I’d never seen one before, I just thought it was pretty, I didn’t know it was dangerous till I ran into it and it clung to my leg. James saw the wound because he pulled me from the water.” She deliberately left out that she had been swimming nude, repaying his earlier mistruth about the meeting.
“Is that all?” He slowed his fingers slightly, half angry he’d been fooled into thinking there was something more, half wondering why he’d never asked before, and altogether relieved.
“Jack” she exhaled like a prayer. Her hips shook and jerked under his arm and he let go of her wrists so she could tangle her hands in his hair and pull him to her. A moment later, he slipped his hand out from between her legs and stuck his fingers in his mouth.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that, Jack. It’s filthy,” she said softly and without real reproach, still drunk on his seduction.
“You’re anything but filthy, darling.” She turned red, catching the glint of his teeth as he grinned in the dim light of the cabin. She couldn’t help but smile in return.
“You shouldn’t let James get you so worked up. You know how he loves to taunt you. Did he at least come through with some useful information?”
“How’d you know I met with James?” He asked, pouting.
“You said his name earlier when you came in raving about my scars. Besides, I’m not a fool. Anyone else and you would have brought me along.”
“Can’t keep a secret from you, can I, luv?” He placed a soft kiss on her forehead as his hand sought out the ridges of skin. “Ever thought of getting a tattoo over these? Maybe an octopus spreading its tentacles out to protect a treasure? The bumps could be suckers…”
She could hear the leer in his voice. “Jack,” she laughed. “Go to sleep. There’s a lot to be done tomorrow.
“Aye, there is,” he said, pulling her close. He would figure out how to repay bloody Norrington tomorrow. For now, he would concentrate on Elizabeth, scars, secrets, and all.