A Fish Tale 10

Pairing: Mer-Sparrington. No smut
Disclaimer: Still doesn't belong to me—still no profits.
Originally Posted: 5/02/06
Note: Apologies beforehand for where I'm leaving you at the end of this chapter... but the next part is almost ready to send to Porridgebird. And ...so much thanks to Porridgebird for finishing this up tonight even though she's not feeling well. Continuing inspiration is from Elessil's 'Sea Men.'

Jack was still curled in his arms and sleeping soundly. He kissed the top of Jack's head and rubbed his cheek against the soft dark hair, dry now from the early morning sun, and sighed in deep contentment.

James had never in his life been afforded the luxury of days free of responsibility and the company of a willing and much desired lover. That the desired lover was both a man and a pirate was becoming less important with each passing day. And that Jack Sparrow was a very willing lover... well, that went without saying.

Jack came instantly awake and sat up, grinning from ear to ear. He gave a quick, cursory scan of the distant horizon before leaning down to kiss James. "Late morning, luv. Mark my words now, the Pearl will be here by late morning."

James sat up and stretched before wrapping his arms around Jack and snugging him back against himself. He rested his chin on Jack's shoulder and looked out over the water. "Certain of that are you, Captain Sparrow?"

"Got me a fine crew, James. They may not be the most dapper a men, but they're all able seamen and worthy of their salt." He leaned back against James and craned his head back to steal another kiss. "They're reliable as the sun, you're goin' to love 'em."

Jack waggled a finger back and forth between the two of them. "You an me, luv," he warned, "We can't let the crew catch wind o' what's between us, savvy?"

Jack returned to his breakfast and added casually, "Course, I got two on me crew what's more than just mates, if ya get my drift, eh?"

"Yes, well," James shrugged and cracked open another shell, "I've always suspected Theo and Andrew of such a relationship, but I prefer to pretend I didn't notice." He looked up at Jack then. "I know that it's not an uncommon thing, especially out here in the Caribbean, but I'd not want anyone to know either, Jack."

They ate silently for several more minutes until Jack began to snicker to himself and then cast a sly glance in James's direction. "Reckon we're in for a bit of a dry spell."

"What?" James asked looking up, "You mean you and I being together, or rather not being together during this trip?"

Jack grinned wide. "Commodore Norrington, you're not entertainin' thoughts of carnal activities while we're on our journey, are ya? Thoughts like... oh, say, you putting your lovely mouth to my yard, for instance... underwater and in the shadow of me very own ship?"

"Something like that," James agreed, "though I may have envisioned it more along the lines of your mouth on my yard."

Jack huffed out a laugh and stroked his beard as he looked out across the water. He shook his head finally and then looked back. "I've never been with anyone what's quite as willing as you are, James."

Jack laughed outright at that. He scanned the horizon quickly, glanced up at the sun and then looked back at James. "Figure we got some time to kill before we can expect the Pearl." He waggled his brow suggestively.

Jack made a beeline to the end of the rocks for a quick scan of the distant horizon. "Nothin' yet," he announced, sliding back down to James's side, "but it won't be long now."

Jack sprawled atop James, covering him from feathery tail flukes to nose and demanded more kisses.

"You're a greedy creature, Jack Sparrow, even for a pirate," James answered mildly. He wrapped his arms around Jack, and ran his fingers up and down the soft skin along the dorsal fin, enjoying the tactile contrast between hard scale and tender flesh.

"Ya know I like the kissin' part, James," Jack whispered against his lips, "figure I better get my fill before the Pearl gets here."

Funny, James thought as he teased at Jack's bottom lip with teeth and tongue, how perfectly normal it had become to feel a mustache against his upper lip. He grinned against Jack's mouth.

Jack lifted his head, brows furrowed indignantly, and looked down at James. "I've been told it makes me look real dashing."

Throughout their history, there had been numerous words that James had used, at one time or another, to describe the pirate. Dashing, however, had never been one of them.

He wisely kept that thought to himself and said instead, "It amused me only because it happens to be attached to someone that I'm kissing... someone I enjoy kissing, I might add."

Mollified somewhat, Jack allowed himself to be drawn back down into another kiss.

Enjoyable as it was to lose himself in kissing Jack Sparrow, James suddenly couldn't shake the uncomfortable sensation that they weren't alone.

He finally cracked open one eye and found himself staring into the small beady black eye of large colorful parrot. It was perched on the rocks just behind Jack and as he watched, it tipped its head down to Jack's ear and very clearly said, "Avast."

Jack's eyes flew open, his lips still plastered to James's and nearly cross-eyed with the effort of trying to focus on him. Jack slowly raised his head, staring incredulously. "How'd you do that?"

James steadfastly kept his gaze on Jack, feigning ignorance and struggling not to grin. He could see the parrot in the periphery of his vision, just behind Jack's head. He held his breath in delighted anticipation as the creature leaned forward once more and just as clearly announced, "Arrrrrr."

Jack shot straight up into the air, hauling James with him. He twisted mid-leap, and in a remarkably accurate defensive strike, swung his tail in a graceful arc and slapped the parrot into the water.

He rolled with the momentum of his tail and brought them to a sitting position on the far side of the rocks, James still clutched protectively in his arms.

Jack scowled fiercely at him and then, muttering under his breath about the ingratitude of Commodores, peered over the rocks at the creature, now floating senseless in the water.

"Sails, Jack," James said suddenly, nudging him and pointing across the water. "Black sails."

Jack lurched up from his crouch at the edge of the rocks. Arms flailing and grinning madly, he twirled around to teeter unsteadily on the end of his tail, and gazed out across the water to his beloved Black Pearl.

Suddenly Jack's mouth dropped open in horrified realization and he swung back around to gaze over the rocks. "I think I just killed Mr. Cotton's parrot!" he yelped, and then dove in after the bird.

Handing the sodden creature up to him, Jack climbed onto the rocks and demanded, "Is it dead, James? Did I kill it?"

James shook his head as he smoothed the feathers, "No, I think it's only stunned."

Jack reached out and poked it cautiously with a finger. "Come on, you miserable, thievin' vulture... wake up for ole Jack, eh?" He watched it carefully for a moment and then gave it another poke. "Please wake up!"

Sighing mournfully, he leaned against James. "If that damn bird doesn't wake up, Mr. Cotton's gonna be heartbroke, James... just heartbroke."

"Course he is, and a damned fine one too." Jack leaned away from him and looked up to search his face. "What exactly are you implying, Commodore?"

"I..." James paused to gather his thoughts, trying to determine what he was implying, actually. He knew this conversation could turn out badly, but, truth be told, now that the Black Pearl was looming on the horizon, he was having some serious reservations. He was still Commodore James Norrington... and yet, somehow, he had allowed himself to become committed to a dodgy venture with Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants.

He looked out across the water. The Pearl was still a good way out; another hour at least before she reached their cove. He glanced back to Jack, who was watching him silently and waiting patiently.

"I suppose," James said finally, "I wasn't so much implying anything, as I was trying to determine just what manner of pirates crew your ship." He looked down at the still unconscious parrot in his hands. "I suppose it must speak well for your Mr. Cotton if he's the sort of man that would... well, mourn the loss of a pet."

He looked out over the water again and nodded towards the Pearl. "And, I must say, I'm having trouble reconciling in my mind the Jack I make love to with the Jack who is the pirate captain of that ship."

He looked back with some trepidation. Jack was looking down at his hands and smiling. James frowned in consternation... why was he smiling?

He watched Jack for several more seconds... more of a smirk really, he noted irritably. "Dare I ask what it is that you find so amusing?"

Jack looked up. "Not amused at all, luv," he hastened to assure James. "I just noticed that you said the Jack that you make love to instead of, oh, say... the Jack you fuck."

"No, no, luv, don't get me wrong... I like it." He dropped his head then and looked up through his lashes. "Can't help feelin' real flattered by it, in fact."

Cotton's parrot chose that moment to return to outraged consciousness. The creature stumbled to its feet, gave its head a shake and after a short, but raucous berating of Jack, took to the air.

James was still gazing out across the water when he felt the tip of Jack's tail curl around his own.

"Don't figure they can see us from the Pearl yet." Jack slid closer and leaned in for a quick kiss. "It's goin' to be real hard to have to do without touchin' you whenever I want."

James nodded, still watching the ship on the distant horizon only to have his view suddenly blocked by Jack's face filling his line of vision.

"I'm rather surprised myself," James admitted. He tried to look away, but Jack pressed a sea-roughened hand against his cheek and pulled his attention back to him.

"I feel real privileged, James, that a man as fine as yourself is comin' aboard my ship."

"I know, luv, but I swear to ya—I'll not allow anything to occur while you're aboard that will compromise your honor."

James studied the earnest face before him and wondered if that promise would cost Jack with his crew. Admittedly, his knowledge of the inner workings of a pirate ship was limited, but still, he couldn't imagine that they would be pleased with his presence.

Most of his own interactions with pirates and the crews of outlaw ships were distant and formal. There were some notable exceptions, of course, but most often his contact was confined to signing a piece of paper and overseeing the hanging.

Increasingly though, he had come to notice the bedraggled state of the men who were paraded past him on their way to the gallows. He'd had the discomfiting realization that most of them were little more than desperately poor men, trying to make their way in a world that offered few legitimate opportunities.

And then, of course, there was Jack Sparrow, to whom piracy was but a glorious game of freedom and adventure—a game that was not one of bloodshed and brutality, but rather wit and cunning. Jack excelled at it.

"What am I going to do, Jack, if it turns out that I actually like your crew?"

Jack tipped his head back to grin up at him. "There'll be a real quandary for ya, eh?"

He settled Jack more comfortably against himself. "More than you could possibly imagine."

James was caught up in admiring the magnificent spectacle of the legendary Black Pearl in full sail when Jack interrupted his musings.

"Oh, I'll turn most of it over to the crown, of course, but I'll tuck some away for my retirement. Call it a finder's fee, if you will."

James pulled a strand of Jack's hair free from where it had caught in the top ridge of his dorsal fin and began to work his fingers through the rest of it, teasing out some of the tangles. The braids and Jack's collection of ornaments remained, but constant seawater had worked out most of the coarse knotwork that had adorned Jack's hair.

That first day of their enchantment, Jack had carefully removed his headscarf and left it atop their pile of clothing. James had initially been startled by the great length of Jack's hair, and then again, when he had first become free to touch it, he had been startled by its texture. There was a fineness to it like soft silk thread.

Jack tipped his head to allow James greater access. "Yer already a rich man, luv, with a glorious career and a fine future ahead a ya."

"Not really, Jack. I'm comfortable, certainly, but truth be told, if the opportunity for admiral arises, I'll turn down the commission."

"Have you ever noticed how much Admirals don't sail?" James asked, "and when it's time, I don't want to have to retire to London. I want to stay in the Caribbean." James sat up higher to reach the rest of Jack's hair and continued to groom his mate. "There's a bit of property I've had my eye on for a while."

"I dare say I'll never give up the sea entirely. But yes, perhaps a bit of sugar cane farming and..." James paused thoughtfully for a moment, hands still in Jack's hair, "well, I suppose you might think this a bit silly, but I want to carve things."

Jack twisted to look over his shoulder at James. "Carve things? Ya mean like scrimshaws and such?"

"Exactly, Jack. My Grandsir taught me the art when I was a boy, and I quite enjoyed it. What? Oh, do stop grinning at me like that, Sparrow. I hardly confessed to this for your bloody amusement."

"No, no, luv. I'm not laughin' at ya... I'm just thinking o' some day in the future when you're an old gray beard. I can just 'magine ya sittin' down at the docks and carvin'."

"Actually," James sniffed haughtily, "I rather envisioned myself carving from the deck of my own sloop."

"All by your onesies out on the sea, eh?" Jack snickered, "That'll make it easy for me to find—"

Jack caught himself, halted the direction his words were taking him, and looked out over the water in silence.

The silence hung between them, until finally James shifted uncomfortably. "When we're men again—"

A small jollyboat had been being lowered to them with Mr. Gibbs, Jack's quartermaster and his first-mate, Anamaria. James had been dumbfounded when he realized that Jack's first mate was a woman, but as he listened to Jack explain the limits of their enchantment and their impending journey, he came to appreciate why Jack had chosen her. Anamaria's input and concerns were surprising in their perception. Equally surprising was the respect Jack accorded to her opinions.

Anamaria, James decided, was the one who might catch them out if they let their guard down.

The plan was finally presented to the crew and put to a vote. And that bit of pirate democracy was another surprise for James.

The journey was overwhelmingly agreed upon and if the enthusiastic approval was anything to judge by, James suspected this crew might well follow their captain to hell and back if he asked it of them.

Jack began issuing orders then with an assured authority, and preparations were soon underway.

He and Jack had decided earlier on that they would swim when it suited them or when they wanted to feed, but neither had any desire to swim over or through the deep waters of the trench. Even if James had not already had a passing acquaintance with the great creature that lurked there, the fear of it seemed inborn to the mer-folk, and passed to them by default through the enchantment.

And, as Jack had pointed out, sleeping on the Pearl would allow them to continue on their journey through the night. "No need to stop and find a cave to sleep in, luv. We'll just hunker down in my bunk."

That generated some question from the crew when someone named Marty was ordered to clear Jack's bunk of its bed linens.

James heard someone snicker from up on the deck. "That should make for a right cozy fit."

Apparently Jack heard it too. "Any o' you blighters want to volunteer yer own bunks," he bellowed up at the ship, "why, I'd be more'n happy to fill it full o' wet seaweed for the Commodore's accommodations."

Jack glared up at the now silent company. "Aye," he sniffed after a moment, "thought not."

So, nets were thrown down and they spent the early afternoon gathering the seaweed that they would sleep on. Barrels of seawater were collected also, one to hold an assortment of shellfish and sea grass, two others to be set in Jack's cabin so they could keep the moss and themselves wet.

When all was finally readied to Jack's specifications, two ropes were tossed down to them.

James eyed the rope that dangled in front of him... the rope that would haul him aboard the Black Pearl. He hesitated a heartbeat, until he felt Jack's tail stroking his beneath the water. He looked over and Jack gave him a reassuring wink.

He took a determined breath and a firm hold of the rope and then the two of them were flying up into the air and landing with twin thumps upon the quarterdeck.

It helped considerably, James thought, warily watching the pirates (who were watching him just as warily) that he and Jack were able to balance upright on the bottom half of their tail. At their length, it gave them each some height at least... almost that of a man standing. There was some comfort in not having to look up at this company of men that he would ordinarily be seeking to hang.

Jack was immediately slithering along the deck on his tail, like some strangely formed sea serpent, barking orders and calling bearings up to Anamaria. Sails were set and they were on their way in remarkably quick time. Jack's crew, James had to admit, was well ordered and efficient.

James, for his part, just tried to stay out of the way. He found a barrel lashed to the railing and he perched atop it. From there he had a good view of the ship's main deck as well as the sea.

The crew was cordial enough to him, and apparently, James thought in wry amusement, quite a religious bunch. At least if one counted how often they crossed themselves whenever they were compelled to be near to him or Jack.

He overheard one of the crew whisper an appalled "Cap'n looks like a damn bleedin' snake" to one of his mates. Watching Jack then, he supposed that was how their movements looked on dry land. To James, though, the sinuous motion of Jack's sleek body was alluring and deeply erotic.

For the most part, the crew kept a wide berth as if they feared there was some contagion to them, and maybe there was. James couldn't have said one way or another for sure, but he was glad of the space they accorded him.

He and Jack had eaten, so it couldn't be hunger. They had chosen a quiet, out of the way corner earlier and eaten neatly and quickly while the crew pretended not to watch in horror as they devoured their raw fare.

But now, it wasn't so much that he felt ill, more that he was so tired he could hardly keep his head upright.

He looked around the deck for Jack and then remembered that Jack had gone to his cabin. Something about a map that he had wanted to show to James, but now that he tried to bring that to recall, it was all rather vague and fuzzy.

The wind had freshened with the setting sun and he leaned out over the rail now to catch some of the breeze in his face, hoping it would clear his head.

It was getting worse, he thought in alarm. The snap of the sails above him had taken on an odd hollow sound and his vision was narrowing in an altogether frightening manner. He thought he heard Jack calling his name from what sounded like a very long distance, but than it all got dark and he was slipping to the deck.

A Fish Tale

Chapter 10