(no subject)
So now I've got two sparrington fics at one time.
Ha this is going to be fun.
I blame it on the plot bunnies running in my head. ;_;
Title: Heaven's A Lie
Pairing: Jack/Norrington
Rating: PG-13 for now.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, or else I'd be busy with them now.
Summary/Preview: James wavered, the Black Pearl leaving her safe harbor for the open seas. Sighing he held his manacled hands out, “If I choose to accept your less than generous offer, would you take into consideration removing me of these burdens of momentary injustice.”
Jack snorted, “Afore I do, Jamie, ye'll be stripped of ye'r weapons.”
James rose, allowing the pirate to search to his content. 'Sword... pistol... dagger... daggers. Everything. James Lysander Norrington you've just run out of perfectly suitable escape plans.'
Whiskers swooped down to tickle an unsuspecting chin, remnant of a smirk forming at silent lips. A nose crinkled in waking protest, brows furrowing as lean arms stretched across a satin bed covering. The figure stirred, jingling here and there as wiggling toes fought their way from tangled sheets to meet cold, lacquered floor boards. Pitter pat across the room, a reluctant eye daring to survey its unfamiliar, darkened surroundings. A low moan and stubborn yawn followed the figure to a pile of clothing lazily tossed onto the floor. Tired sea legs shoved uneasily into confining breeches, tattered shirt and sash following. Moving to the dirtied mirror calloused hands traveled across exhausted cheeks, fingering the bandanna before fixing it.
He grumbled across the room, feet warily finding comfort in old, familiar boots. Heading for the door he grabbed a tattered coat and faithful weaponry. The coat fluttered about his swaggering figure as he shoved his arms into it and moved to affix his belt, sword dangling lazily at his side. Clunking boots met cobblestone, the night sky shrouding him in darkness to Fort Charles. Fingers curled around the side of a moss covered building, awaiting the changing of guards. His one and only ten minute window. Watching the diligent guard leave his post, Jack snuck through the front gate and traveled to the back wall. Peering up the lattice work he sighed, 'Stairs would be much easier.' If he wasn't a pirate.
Grabbing a firm hold he began to climb, aging joints crying out in firm protest. Ivy curled around his fingers their feather light tickle leaving as soon as it had came. Huffing and puffing he peered over the wall, hands gripping him to the other side. Clomp. Clomp. Kohl rimmed eyes strained to scan the nameplates on the doors passing by.
“Commodore Gillette... Lieutenant Groves... Ah!” A sashaying index finger pressed against his bottom lip, speaking the name aloud. “Admiral James L. Norrington.” Creaking the door open he spotted the crumpled figure dozing amidst paperwork, 'Pearl o' the Kings Navy indeed.' Moving stealthily across the room he paused, rifling in his jacket pocket for the strip of cloth he had prepared earlier. Jack stood behind the snoring figure, reaching to grasp a pair of discarded manacles upon the desk; click click around lifeless wrists caused the Admiral to stir only to snore and mumble inaudible words. Smirking to himself at the thoughts running across his mind Jack brought the strip of cloth to rest in front of the sleeping Admiral's bewigged face. He stifled a laugh, “Admiral Norrington! Asleep on t'job I see!”
James' head jerked up from worthless dreams, warranting fabric shoved into an open protesting mouth. The knot was tight, one of Jack's own concoctions he'd figured. Pale hands flew to undo the knot, only to be stopped by a betraying pair of manacles. Before he could reach for their accompanying keys, lithe pilfering ones snatched them from his top breast pocket.
Jack hoisted the taler man to his feet, pushing him to walk in front of him. Five minutes until the guard took his post. Mentally Jack cursed himself, the stairs they would have to take. And they did, hurried feet taking them by two and James' grunting form doing the best he could to reluctantly oblige. Across the courtyard boots echoed and finally to the silent sand. Moving quickly across the beach, Jack stepped into the water, James standing beside him to pull the longboat. Shoving James into the tottering boat, Jack's form following, oars shooting out to take them to the Black Pearl. The Pearl was docked beyond the cliffs of Port Royal in the protecting reef just out of sight.
James made it a point to stare the cursed pirate Captain down, his wrists long since aching from heavy manacles that were, in his opinion, far too tight. But on the other hand, perhaps it was good for the Admiral to get a taste of his own medicine. Peering over his shoulder, the Black Pearl was nearly a breath away, the rocking waters carrying the Naval supplied prisoner closer to his gallows.
Tucking the ores inside the long boat Jack stood, swaggering past James' infuriated form to the side of the Pearl. Fingers curling onto familiar salt soaked wood, he pulled the other to his feet, pushing him by his bum face first onto the deck. Jack smirked, standing over James' struggling form and watched him until he made it to his knees. Bending he loosened the gag, watching it fall to hang about the older man's neckline
“Sparrow,” A cotton dried mouth began, “you'd better have a good reason for capturing an admiral of her Majesty's Royal Navy.”
Hands reaching out to sashay across a powder white wig, they released long ebony tendrils from their Navy issued confines. “Now, now Jamie. What have I told ye' about wearin' Elizabeth's wig?” He wagged his finger teasingly through the air, “Doesn't it itch?” Raising an inquisitive brow, his hands snaked around James' elbow, pulling the sputtering man to his feet.
James pursed his lips, eyes narrowing in content hatred. Stumbling to his feet with forced assistance, he allowed Sparrow to push him into a darkened cabin his eyes fumbling across unfamiliar shadows.
Pushing the Admiral into the cabin he used his spare hand to retrieve a dampened match from his breast pocket. Fumbling with the instrument he lit a solitary candle, light giving way to his mischievous golden grin. Taking the candle into his hands he let go of James', leaving him to stumble around, and made his way around the cabin, lighting the remaining candles.
The room came to life in dramatic colors and lavish furnishings James had only seen in his dreams. Indeed he'd been aboard the Pearl before, but that was before it sunk into the abyss with it's captor the Kraken. Green orbs peered slowly around the room, deep reds and bluish blacks making their imprint on him only to stop at the still sight of Jack Sparrow. Tanned hands signaled James to seat himself behind the mahogany desk, “If it's letters of mark you're after, I can offer you no help Jack.” Joints creaked into the weathered seat, form stretching out across it into apprehensive comfort.
Jack's hand rose, stopping James from continuing a speech he could've narrated himself. Moving across the room he sat himself atop the desk, slender boot traveling to rest between Crown issued sea legs and breeches. “I'll give ye' no explanation until ye've proven ye'rself worthy of one. Until I feel ye' are ye'r welcome t'room below deck with a rightly unforgiving crew, or ye' can bunk with ye'rs truly.”
James wavered, the Black Pearl leaving her safe harbor for the open seas. Sighing he held his manacled hands out, “If I choose to accept your less than generous offer, would you take into consideration removing me of these burdens of momentary injustice.”
Jack snorted, “Afore I do, Jamie, ye'll be stripped of ye'r weapons.”
James rose, allowing the pirate to search to his content. 'Sword... pistol... dagger... daggers. Everything. James Lysander Norrington you've just run out of perfectly suitable escape plans.' Silently continuing to berate himself, he watched Jack lock away his weapons, their piratical counterparts following into the trunk. The key in Jack's open palm one moment, disappeared the next. Sighing James reached his clanking wrists out, manacles thudding to the mahogany desk. Long, paled hands rubbed at stubbornly sore wrists, his form pacing before looking to Jack.
Before James could pay him proper attention he had the keys concealed upon his person, their jingling no different from the rest of the trinkets he carried. “I've no spare hammock so it'll be to t'floor or in t'same bed with ye'.”
*******************
Ha this is going to be fun.
I blame it on the plot bunnies running in my head. ;_;
Title: Heaven's A Lie
Pairing: Jack/Norrington
Rating: PG-13 for now.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, or else I'd be busy with them now.
Summary/Preview: James wavered, the Black Pearl leaving her safe harbor for the open seas. Sighing he held his manacled hands out, “If I choose to accept your less than generous offer, would you take into consideration removing me of these burdens of momentary injustice.”
Jack snorted, “Afore I do, Jamie, ye'll be stripped of ye'r weapons.”
James rose, allowing the pirate to search to his content. 'Sword... pistol... dagger... daggers. Everything. James Lysander Norrington you've just run out of perfectly suitable escape plans.'
Whiskers swooped down to tickle an unsuspecting chin, remnant of a smirk forming at silent lips. A nose crinkled in waking protest, brows furrowing as lean arms stretched across a satin bed covering. The figure stirred, jingling here and there as wiggling toes fought their way from tangled sheets to meet cold, lacquered floor boards. Pitter pat across the room, a reluctant eye daring to survey its unfamiliar, darkened surroundings. A low moan and stubborn yawn followed the figure to a pile of clothing lazily tossed onto the floor. Tired sea legs shoved uneasily into confining breeches, tattered shirt and sash following. Moving to the dirtied mirror calloused hands traveled across exhausted cheeks, fingering the bandanna before fixing it.
He grumbled across the room, feet warily finding comfort in old, familiar boots. Heading for the door he grabbed a tattered coat and faithful weaponry. The coat fluttered about his swaggering figure as he shoved his arms into it and moved to affix his belt, sword dangling lazily at his side. Clunking boots met cobblestone, the night sky shrouding him in darkness to Fort Charles. Fingers curled around the side of a moss covered building, awaiting the changing of guards. His one and only ten minute window. Watching the diligent guard leave his post, Jack snuck through the front gate and traveled to the back wall. Peering up the lattice work he sighed, 'Stairs would be much easier.' If he wasn't a pirate.
Grabbing a firm hold he began to climb, aging joints crying out in firm protest. Ivy curled around his fingers their feather light tickle leaving as soon as it had came. Huffing and puffing he peered over the wall, hands gripping him to the other side. Clomp. Clomp. Kohl rimmed eyes strained to scan the nameplates on the doors passing by.
“Commodore Gillette... Lieutenant Groves... Ah!” A sashaying index finger pressed against his bottom lip, speaking the name aloud. “Admiral James L. Norrington.” Creaking the door open he spotted the crumpled figure dozing amidst paperwork, 'Pearl o' the Kings Navy indeed.' Moving stealthily across the room he paused, rifling in his jacket pocket for the strip of cloth he had prepared earlier. Jack stood behind the snoring figure, reaching to grasp a pair of discarded manacles upon the desk; click click around lifeless wrists caused the Admiral to stir only to snore and mumble inaudible words. Smirking to himself at the thoughts running across his mind Jack brought the strip of cloth to rest in front of the sleeping Admiral's bewigged face. He stifled a laugh, “Admiral Norrington! Asleep on t'job I see!”
James' head jerked up from worthless dreams, warranting fabric shoved into an open protesting mouth. The knot was tight, one of Jack's own concoctions he'd figured. Pale hands flew to undo the knot, only to be stopped by a betraying pair of manacles. Before he could reach for their accompanying keys, lithe pilfering ones snatched them from his top breast pocket.
Jack hoisted the taler man to his feet, pushing him to walk in front of him. Five minutes until the guard took his post. Mentally Jack cursed himself, the stairs they would have to take. And they did, hurried feet taking them by two and James' grunting form doing the best he could to reluctantly oblige. Across the courtyard boots echoed and finally to the silent sand. Moving quickly across the beach, Jack stepped into the water, James standing beside him to pull the longboat. Shoving James into the tottering boat, Jack's form following, oars shooting out to take them to the Black Pearl. The Pearl was docked beyond the cliffs of Port Royal in the protecting reef just out of sight.
James made it a point to stare the cursed pirate Captain down, his wrists long since aching from heavy manacles that were, in his opinion, far too tight. But on the other hand, perhaps it was good for the Admiral to get a taste of his own medicine. Peering over his shoulder, the Black Pearl was nearly a breath away, the rocking waters carrying the Naval supplied prisoner closer to his gallows.
Tucking the ores inside the long boat Jack stood, swaggering past James' infuriated form to the side of the Pearl. Fingers curling onto familiar salt soaked wood, he pulled the other to his feet, pushing him by his bum face first onto the deck. Jack smirked, standing over James' struggling form and watched him until he made it to his knees. Bending he loosened the gag, watching it fall to hang about the older man's neckline
“Sparrow,” A cotton dried mouth began, “you'd better have a good reason for capturing an admiral of her Majesty's Royal Navy.”
Hands reaching out to sashay across a powder white wig, they released long ebony tendrils from their Navy issued confines. “Now, now Jamie. What have I told ye' about wearin' Elizabeth's wig?” He wagged his finger teasingly through the air, “Doesn't it itch?” Raising an inquisitive brow, his hands snaked around James' elbow, pulling the sputtering man to his feet.
James pursed his lips, eyes narrowing in content hatred. Stumbling to his feet with forced assistance, he allowed Sparrow to push him into a darkened cabin his eyes fumbling across unfamiliar shadows.
Pushing the Admiral into the cabin he used his spare hand to retrieve a dampened match from his breast pocket. Fumbling with the instrument he lit a solitary candle, light giving way to his mischievous golden grin. Taking the candle into his hands he let go of James', leaving him to stumble around, and made his way around the cabin, lighting the remaining candles.
The room came to life in dramatic colors and lavish furnishings James had only seen in his dreams. Indeed he'd been aboard the Pearl before, but that was before it sunk into the abyss with it's captor the Kraken. Green orbs peered slowly around the room, deep reds and bluish blacks making their imprint on him only to stop at the still sight of Jack Sparrow. Tanned hands signaled James to seat himself behind the mahogany desk, “If it's letters of mark you're after, I can offer you no help Jack.” Joints creaked into the weathered seat, form stretching out across it into apprehensive comfort.
Jack's hand rose, stopping James from continuing a speech he could've narrated himself. Moving across the room he sat himself atop the desk, slender boot traveling to rest between Crown issued sea legs and breeches. “I'll give ye' no explanation until ye've proven ye'rself worthy of one. Until I feel ye' are ye'r welcome t'room below deck with a rightly unforgiving crew, or ye' can bunk with ye'rs truly.”
James wavered, the Black Pearl leaving her safe harbor for the open seas. Sighing he held his manacled hands out, “If I choose to accept your less than generous offer, would you take into consideration removing me of these burdens of momentary injustice.”
Jack snorted, “Afore I do, Jamie, ye'll be stripped of ye'r weapons.”
James rose, allowing the pirate to search to his content. 'Sword... pistol... dagger... daggers. Everything. James Lysander Norrington you've just run out of perfectly suitable escape plans.' Silently continuing to berate himself, he watched Jack lock away his weapons, their piratical counterparts following into the trunk. The key in Jack's open palm one moment, disappeared the next. Sighing James reached his clanking wrists out, manacles thudding to the mahogany desk. Long, paled hands rubbed at stubbornly sore wrists, his form pacing before looking to Jack.
Before James could pay him proper attention he had the keys concealed upon his person, their jingling no different from the rest of the trinkets he carried. “I've no spare hammock so it'll be to t'floor or in t'same bed with ye'.”
*******************