Fine Men, Chapter 2
One Fine Day
by
Full headers in Chapter 1
Note: Inspired by "We all have flaws," he said, "and mine is being wicked." From "The Thirteen Clocks" by James Thurber, as provided by raven_writes.
Note: Inspired by "We all have flaws," he said, "and mine is being wicked." From "The Thirteen Clocks" by James Thurber, as provided by raven_writes.
"Back again, are you?"
"James! Lovely to see you," Jack said as he turned with a flounce.
"Indeed," the commodore said dryly as he stopped at Jack's side and nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Turner.
"Jack was just telling us he's staying to visit for a few days," Elizabeth explained, clapping her hands. "He's been gone so long!"
"He's only been gone three months," James objected.
Will, Elizabeth and Jack all looked at him. James resisted the urge to shuffle his feet or let the discomfort show on his face as he scrambled for something intelligent to say. He was an intelligent man, after all. "Is Sunday not your birthday, Mrs. Turner?"
Will and Elizabeth went from blank to smiling. "Oh yes," Elizabeth said. "That's right. My father is hosting a dinner for us." They appeared to completely lose sight of the fact that James had known exactly how long Jack had been gone.
Jack continued to watch James, a slight smile curving his lips.
"You'll be there, won't you, Commodore?" Elizabeth asked.
"Well, Mrs. Turner, as you know I am occupied at the fort..."
"Come now, James. Don't be so stuffy," Jack admonished.
"Stuffy?" James repeated just as Will murmured "Jack" and jabbed him in the ribs.
"Stuffy," Jack said again, ignoring Will. "Bend a little, man, fair Elizabeth has asked you to attend." He looked at James intently.
James sniffed and clenched his jaw. He knew full well to what the pirate...privateer...no, damn him, pirate... alluded. The commodore sighed. "Very well, Mrs. Turner. I shall be honored to attend."
Elizabeth smiled and bounced again, happy. Jack met James's eyes and nodded approvingly. James simply rolled his eyes as Elizabeth took his arm, and they all started walking up the cobblestone path.
"I'm so glad you're staying, Jack," Will said. "I've been missing the Pearl."
"You're quite welcome to come aboard for a visit, dear William, and well you know it," Jack said, gesticulating his agreement. Those kohl-lined eyes shifted to the stiff-necked, starched Navy man being dragged up the street. "As are you, Commodore."
"Me? Visit the Black Pearl? Whatever for?"
"'Tis a fine ship, the Pearl," her captain expounded.
James wrinkled his nose. "My memories of the Black Pearl are not so fine," he answered, trying to tuck his hands behind him as Elizabeth hung on to his arm.
"All the more reason to replace them," Jack pointed out.
"He's right, Commodore," Will said.
"Yes, Commodore, he's..."
"Right. Yes, I see," James said wryly, clearly outnumbered.
"It's settled!" Jack announced, throwing both hands in the air.
Elizabeth and Will chattered happily, pulling James along, and Jack followed them, a thoughtful look on his face.
So it was that Will was to darken James's doorstep early in the morning two days later, having arranged for them to walk together to the Black Pearl. James was still rather peeved at having been railroaded into this sojourn, but he would weather it with the appropriate propriety.
James sat at his desk working on correspondence as he waited for young Turner to arrive, and he muttered slightly about the time that would be taken for today's pointless trip. He sniffed and dipped his pen into the inkwell just as the butler announced his visitor had arrived.
"Show him in, please," the commodore answered distractedly as he tried to finish this particular stack of papers.
"So typical, James, to see you hard at work barely after the cock's crow."
James just let his eyes close as he heard a chorus of tiny tinkles. He would have hung his head if he thought it would make him feel better. With a clear sigh of consternation, James looked up at Jack. "And what brings you to my doorstep rather than I to yours?" he asked the privateer—pirate—semi-cordially.
"And a fine morning to you as well, James," Jack said brightly, hooking one hand in his belt as he sashayed toward the desk.
James's nose wrinkled. "Good morning, Jack," he said, annoyed to be put in his place for not observing the proprieties. "And how are you this fine day?"
"Fabulous, James. It's beautiful outside," he answered, leaning forward with that slight sway of his to emphasize his point. "And you should be out in it, not locked up in this..." Jack waved a hand, looking around at the dark walls, dark furniture, impersonal office with everything exactly in its place. "House." His face took on a pinched quality. "Do you really live here?" he tacked on, not very thinly veiled horror crossing his face.
"Of course I live here," James retorted. "Why else would it be my home?"
Jack gave him a look of strong disapproval. "It's a house, and that's all it is. It's not a home. Not like the Pearl is to me."
James laid down his pen and sat back in his chair. He leveled his eyes with Jack's before speaking. "Not all of us are so lucky."
The pirate tipped his head to one side, studying him. "Perhaps not," he allowed.
"Now, Jack, why are you here and not aboard your ship?" James asked.
Jack peered at him for another moment before purposely flashing a wide smile. "I'm here to take you to the Pearl, remember?"
"I distinctly remember Mr. Turner saying he would stop by here on the way to the ship," the commodore said, not looking up from the paperwork he'd resumed.
"Yes, well, about that. You see, it seems there was a small accident with a carriage that needed immediate attention from the blacksmith," Jack explained.
James looked up with narrowed eyes, and Jack smiled innocently. James didn't believe it for a second.
"So then, Jamie, you'll be changing into more reasonable clothes; we'll stop at the tavern near the docks for a cask of libations; and we'll be off to the Pearl for a full day's sail."
There were so many things wrong with that announcement that James had no idea where to start.
He stood stiffly and fixed a disapproving look on Jack before opening his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by...
"Now, James, no arguments. Wasn't the walk on the beach so wonderfully refreshing? This will be the same, only it will renew your soul," Jack promised.
James folded his hands behind his back. "Jack, are you purposely trying to lead me astray?"
Jack's glinting grin was all the reply he needed to make, although he did tuck his thumbs in his belt and rock back and forth on his heels.
The commodore rolled his eyes. "I take it I should not wear a proper uniform."
"Pfft. Proper. Today there is no proper allowed," Jack declared, moving around the desk to start herding James to the door.
"Jack, I have a reputation..."
"Which clearly needs help, because I'm of a mind to be saying, the townspeople's opinion of you needs some serious revising," Jack muttered.
"I'll have you know my reputation is above reproach!"
"Above approach is more like it," Jack said as he practically pushed James out the door of the study and toward the stairs.
"I'm perfectly approachable," James insisted.
"And when was the last time someone approached you for simple, pleasant conversation rather than to gain stature, your indulgence, or your name?" Jack posed, nudging the commodore to get him moving up the stairs.
James's mind went blank, and Jack took full advantage. "So you see, my dear commodore—which one is your room, luv?—that your reputation is so slow, stodgy and so impenetrable that the folk you protect actually fear you."
James halted on his dressing room's threshold. "They do not fear me," he rebutted.
"Aye, but they do," Jack confirmed, managing to get James inside the door. He finally left off prodding him to move and went to rifle the wardrobe.
"Then why don't I... just what do you think you're doing?" James asked in alarm as pieces of clothing starting flying out of the heavy cabinet in random directions.
"You need reasonable clothing if you're going to help sail the Pearl today," Jack's muffled voice answered.
"Dear Lord," James prayed under his breath. "Do get out of there," he commanded.
Jack's head appeared around the heavy wooden door. "But I'm not finished. I've only just found you some trousers." He held out a halfway decent pair of deep brown pants, tapered at the knee. They weren't quite threadbare. James kept them to wear when he worked in the garden, which he'd had no time for since his promotion.
"I'm not wearing those out in the public square!" James said firmly.
"You're not going to the public square, now are you, luv?" Jack said, having ducked back into the wardrobe.
"Jack Sparrow," the commodore growled as he descended upon the wardrobe, only to almost run into the pirate's hand extending a loose shirt deep maroon in color.
"That will do nicely," Jack said. "Have you some boots?"
James held the clothes. "You're going to nag and annoy me until I change clothes, aren't you," he said in resignation.
Jack peeked out from the wardrobe again. "We're getting to know each other so well, Jamie," he drawled.
"James. Not Jamie. Not luv. James or even better, Commodore," James said through gritted teeth.
"James, aye," Jack placated.
The commodore shook his head. How such a devious pirate could give him such an innocent—angelic, even—look was beyond him.
When they left by the back door, James was certain this was a bad idea.
"Come along, James, things to do so we can get on the water," Jack said, leading the way down the cobbled alley with his recognizable flounce. James followed along much more sedately.
When they arrived at the pub, James dug in his heels. "Absolutely not."
Jack turned around, visibly outraged. "Absolutely not? You can't tell me, James, that you don't appreciate a warming drink from time to time."
"Of course I'm not saying that. What I'm saying is that commodores do not patronize lower class taverns where pirates undoubtedly congregate," James tried to explain.
"So ignore them," Jack suggested helpfully.
"Jack, surely you understand. It's just not possible. I have to do my job..."
"Actually, luv, I don't understand. You're not working today. You're not even a commodore today. You're just James," Jack said evenly, both hands on his hips. "Savvy?"
James blinked at him. "Just James."
"Aye. Just James," Jack repeated, smiling a bit.
James once again had the feeling that this could only go badly. "It's on your head, if someone shoots me because they feel threatened by His Royal Majesty's Navy," he said, jabbing a finger into Jack's chest.
Jack looked wounded, pressing one hand to his chest, rubbing where James had poked him. "Would I allow that to happen?"
"Possibly," James growled.
"Possibly, if the commodore were here," Jack allowed with a thoughtful look on his face. But a happy smile quickly transformed him. "But he's not, so, rum!" He turned and slinked his way to the door.
It was nearly an hour later when James finally dragged Jack out of the tavern. Two women nearly pulled the pirate back inside as they clung to his arms playfully. Jack stopped to kiss each woman, flatter them outrageously, and take liberties with particular rounded parts of female anatomy before sending them on their way with a generous pat to their behinds.
Ironically, it was James carrying the small cask. "Jack Sparrow, you are a wicked man. And you are attempting to lure me into sin," he said drolly.
Jack grinned and sketched a bow. "A lovely compliment, James."
James huffed. "Let's be on our way, shall we? Before the ladies seek to regain your company."
"Aye, but what about that little redhead who attached herself to your hip?" Jack said with a wide wink. "I bet she wasn't after your name."
James's cheeks actually flushed, tickling Jack so much that the pirate cackled gleefully.
To James's surprise, the day moved along at a steady clip; they passed it upon the salty water under the orange sun once the Black Pearl left harbor. Pointed in the direction of the rigging, James shrugged and pitched in, drawing on long-past experience. It was hot work, and he relished the feel of the cool wind upon his overheated skin once he and Jack stripped off their shirts after hauling rope and sail around for mending.
They sat out on the deck to eat a simple lunch of jerky and fruit, with water for James and rum for Jack—though Jack did manage to get James to indulge in a couple swallows.
The day waned slowly; a captain-led tour was the order of business that afternoon, a bit below and most above, introducing James to the Black Pearl "right and proper," which made James laugh. That laugh earned him a swat that he didn't even frown over.
An offhand comment on the part of one of the crew saw James and Jack facing each other in a friendly wager. It was exhilarating for James, a superior fencer himself, to cross swords with Jack and find a fine, challenging match. They chased each other all over the ship, teasing and taunting, laughing and growling as the crew cheered them on.
Afterward, Jack toasted him with yet more rum, and James didn't argue when handed his own tankard.
He'd never thought he'd again enjoy a day of hard labor at sea—many years had passed since his last stint as a midshipman. But it was exactly what he needed. It was a cleansing that allowed him to totally step away from his own life, if only for a short time.
"Now you see what you're missing."
James turned from where he stood at the ship's rail to look at Jack. "Missing?"
"Aye, missing, and missing quite a bit, if I'm not wrong."
Jack slowly walked around James, looking him up and down. Scuffed boots. Worn trousers with a new hole in one knee. Untucked, sweat-marked shirt. Trails of damp dirt winding down the sides of his neck from his temple. Surprisingly curly, dark, loose and windblown hair. Sparkling sea green eyes.
"You've never looked as fine a man as you do now," Jack said, genuine.
James was surprised. "Jack, I simply don't understand you. I'm a mess."
"It's really quite simple," Jack said matter-of-factly, still intent.
"Obviously it's not," James said in annoyance.
"Obviously it is, but you won't let yourself see it. It's not proper," Jack stressed, hands on his hips as he looked at James sternly.
"What am I not seeing?" James asked in exasperation.
"Life! Today you're enjoying life, really living it!" Jack said fervently, the bangles on his sash jingling as he grasped each of James's upper arms. "Not only existing with that prim and proper stick up your ass every single blasted hour of the day."
"Stick up my..." James cut himself off before he finished the repetition he seemed to forever be speaking around this man. But for once, instead of being angry, he just felt... "Jack."
"I am the one who doesn't understand," Jack said, waving a finger in the commodore's face before stalking away and pacing back and forth at the bottom of the steps leading to the wheel. He gestured as he spoke. "How you can be a Navy man, so obviously a man of the sea, so enamored of her, yet you don't let yourself enjoy her? You lock yourself up in that uniform and that way of thinking and that cage of a house, barely able to breathe the fresh air or accept the sun on your skin. You rarely even step foot onboard a ship now, Commodore."
James stood there, stunned, as Jack continued.
"She's already a part of you, I've seen it today. How you move with her and breathe her in, yet deny her? How can you not sleep in her arms, accept her kiss, sink into her depths and let her seep into your soul?"
"Jack..." James's brow rose higher and higher as Jack waxed poetic—frankly good poetry at that. James knew all those things about the lady sea, yet he also knew it was his lot in life to ride her swells, but never really know her.
Jack considered the man in front of him seriously. "I want you to feel those things, James, things that will let you find your place in this world, let you know of a place you will always be welcome. She is that place. The sea, she will never turn you away."
"Jack," James said more forcefully, finally getting the pirate's attention. Jack stopped in his tracks and peered at James, who rubbed a hand over his face and turned to walk along the railing. "I cannot allow myself to be drawn as by a siren's song to the sea. I have responsibilities on shore that cannot be long ignored."
Jack blinked a few times, and then burst into motion, following along behind James with that swaying walk. "I know what your problem is, James," Jack announced.
James sighed and stopped. "Do tell, Jack," he said wearily.
"Right you are," Jack said, leaning close for a bit before straightening. "You think that in that uniform, you're perfect, you see. And it just isn't true."
James spluttered. "That's preposterous!"
"Is it really?" Jack posed. "Every button and tie in place, every curl of the wig. Rigid posture, proper language, observed procedures, regimented lives. Such is the way of His Royal Majesty's Navy." The pirate's voice clearly revealed his pity and sadness over such a fate.
Jack actually made sense, and that bothered the commodore more than anything yet. "It's... the way it is," James said quietly. "It is not my place to bring about change in the world."
"So bring about change in yourself," Jack suggested casually as he turned to lean back against the railing, stretching out his arms until his fingers brushed James's elbow. "At least with yourself—and me, of course—be honest."
"Be honest," James said before huffing. He'd done it again. "About what?"
"About what affects you personally. Not what affects the Navy, or Port Royal, or the pubs, or the stray cats. You and only you, luv," Jack said, his voice turned serious. "About your hopes and your disappointments. About your wants and your desires. About your strengths and your flaws."
"I should hope I don't have any flaws," James said, furrows of worry appearing.
"Everyone has flaws," Jack answered lightly.
"Weaknesses, perhaps. But flaws?"
"Look at myself, then. I have more than my fair share," Jack pointed out.
James smiled, a smile without the shadow that normally kept it restrained. "Truer words..."
"We all have flaws," Jack drawled, "and mine is being wicked."
James couldn't hide the soft snort or the smile that remained on his lips.
Jack waved him off. "Honesty," he said in an almost sing-song voice.
Sighing, James turned to look out at the sea. "If I must," he muttered as he thought about it. "My flaw is..."
Jack leaned in expectantly.
"My flaw is a frightening tendency to fraternize with pirates."
Jack burst out laughing, beating on the rail with one fist. "You know, you're quite right," he agreed. "I've seen it!"
James rolled his eyes, which just inspired more mirth in Jack.
"You see, James, you do understand," Jack exclaimed with a wide grin.
A companionable silence wrapped around them for quite some time after Jack's crow. James spent the time looking out over the rolling waves to the setting sun and red sky as the Black Pearl sailed back into port. He considered the man beside him as well, how he had dragged James out onto the water in a bid to ease his spirit. Spirit James had not realized was so quashed.
"Thank you, Jack. It was a fine day. A fine day, indeed."
The pirate's smile was remarkably controlled, but nothing could hide the pleased shine in his eyes.
Prev ::
Next
Leave a Comment
(If you're commenting about a specific chapter, please mention that.)
Read Comments
(Warning: May contain spoilers!)