New POTC drabble: "Pricked"
Title: "Pricked"
Rating: PG for bawdy humor
Characters: Jack and Elizabeth
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor turn a profit on their portrayal.
Summary: Set post-CotBP AU. Jack's gotten himself hurt again (God alone knows how). Written for the potc100 prompt "Wound."
A/N: The result of reading too many of the older POTC fanfics and remembering some of those wacky "size" discussions (apologies that Norrington wasn't represented; he just wouldn't fit, ladies ;-) ).
“Jack! You’re bleeding!”
“Oi?” He looked down, feeling the puncture greater as he saw blood. “Devilish prick, idn’t it?”
Elizabeth snapped her fingers. “Off, so that can get cleaned.”
He’d known having the youngsters on board would pay off sometime. He grinned, unfastening his breeches. “Shouldn’t you turn your back?”
She quirked her lips. “I daresay you’ve nothing my husband doesn’t possess.” After he peeled the material down from the wound and lifted his shirt, she pressed a wet cloth to the injury and smirked up at him. “Though, perhaps, less of it.”
His cocky grin wasn’t all that fell.
Rating: PG for bawdy humor
Characters: Jack and Elizabeth
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor turn a profit on their portrayal.
Summary: Set post-CotBP AU. Jack's gotten himself hurt again (God alone knows how). Written for the potc100 prompt "Wound."
A/N: The result of reading too many of the older POTC fanfics and remembering some of those wacky "size" discussions (apologies that Norrington wasn't represented; he just wouldn't fit, ladies ;-) ).
“Jack! You’re bleeding!”
“Oi?” He looked down, feeling the puncture greater as he saw blood. “Devilish prick, idn’t it?”
Elizabeth snapped her fingers. “Off, so that can get cleaned.”
He’d known having the youngsters on board would pay off sometime. He grinned, unfastening his breeches. “Shouldn’t you turn your back?”
She quirked her lips. “I daresay you’ve nothing my husband doesn’t possess.” After he peeled the material down from the wound and lifted his shirt, she pressed a wet cloth to the injury and smirked up at him. “Though, perhaps, less of it.”
His cocky grin wasn’t all that fell.