A Fish Tale 11

Rating: Mer-Sparrington. NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine... no profit
Originally Posted: 5/08/06
Note: More mer-adventures and life aboard the Pearl. Thanks to Porridgebird for the quick beta and Elessil for her lovely picture.

Someone asked, "Figure he'll be aright, Jack?" Gibbs maybe, he thought, but he wasn't quite ready to open his eyes and confirm it.

He could hear the low murmur of voices in the background and the creek of the ship's timbers.

James finally took a deep shuddering breath—Christ, his gills hurt—and opened his eyes.

It was full dark and Jack was bent over him, his skin golden in the flickering light of the lanthorns. "Jack?" he croaked hoarsely... and that hurt too. He licked his lips. "What happened?"

"Ya spent most a the afternoon perched on that damn barrel and sittin' in the wind, is what happened," Jack chastised, "an ya know we have to stay wet!"

Mr. Gibbs was crouched down at his other side, watching him anxiously, and curious faces watched him from the shadows.

Jack patted him once on the shoulder and then slid back and disentangled their tails. "Soon as yer up for it, we'll get ya to the cabin and the bunk, eh?"

Jack soaked the rag he had been using in a bucket of seawater at his side and handed it off to James.

James nodded his thanks and held it gratefully to his gills. "I'm in your debt, Captain Sparrow," he whispered hoarsely

"Aye, well," Jack fingered the tuft of beard beneath his lip thoughtfully, "I seem to recollect a beach in Port Royal, mate... figure we're square now."

James glanced around at the sea of faces, still watching him from the shadows, and looked longingly across the deck to the closed door that led to the captain's cabin.

Jack intercepted his look, grasped James by the arm and addressed the crew. "Any a you lads care to give me an' the Commodore a hand here?"

There was a great deal of mumbling and shuffling amongst the crew and Gibbs busied himself with his rum flask. None of them would look in their direction. Finally Anamaria came forward from one of the shadows, cussing and mocking.

"Bloody bunch a damn fools, the lot of ya," she sneered. "I'll help ya Jack." She glared briefly down at Norrington, defying him to gainsay her, and then took him by the other arm.

Jack was beside him in the bunk almost immediately, smoothing his hair back and covering his face with careful kisses. "God's blood, James... what were ya thinking?"

"I wasn't," James whispered. He swallowed carefully and was relieved to find that the pain was starting to ease. "I feel all right now. Well, better, at least."

"You weren't breathing and your skin... Jesus, James, your skin was blue." Jack pressed his forehead against James's. "Ya tryin' to scare me to an early grave, mate?"

"I was trying to stay out of the way." He swallowed down another harsh breath and pressed the wet cloth, still clutched in his hand, against his gills. "And I didn't want to impose my presence on your crew any more than was necessary."

Jack took the cloth from him and leaned out over the edge of the bunk to freshen it from one of the barrels before gently bathing James's neck with it.

"I would have thought..." James began, then hesitated for a moment, "well, your duties demanded your time... and rightly so, of course. And you're obviously very pleased to be back to your ship..."

Jack paused in his ministrations to gaze quizzically at him. "Don't think I wasn't thinking 'bout ya or missin' your touch."

"I'm hardly accustomed to being aboard a ship with nothing to do, Jack." James said irritably. "Certainly some task or bit of industry to while the time wouldn't have gone amiss."

Jack grinned down at him. "Admit it, James, you just missed havin' me wrapped around you like a limpet."

Jack gave him a quick kiss. "If I'd a spent any time with ya, I'd of given away the truth of us.

James curled against Jack, buried his face in the crook of his neck and breathed in the sweet, welcome scent of his mate. "I can hardly believe how much I missed touching you today," he admitted softly. The truth of that statement was unsettling and he looked up to find Jack watching him solemnly.

Jack pulled him close and settled him in his arms. "It was alarming, James," he murmured into his hair, "real alarming, to find ya lying on the deck like that."

They were both silent for awhile, content in each other's arms until Jack tipped his head down and asked, "You still awake?"

They went quiet again, each lost in his own thoughts. Jack stirred finally. "This state we're in now, James... these bodies and bein' mates... have ya given any thought to just how strong it is?"

James tipped his face up and kissed the underside of Jack's jaw. "Everything about this state seems stronger, whether it's the urge to mate or hunger or fatigue or..." he looked up at Jack and arched a brow, "your jealousy."

"Just can't help havin' some worries' bout it all, though... 'specially now that I'm back on the Pearl."

James looked up at him questioningly. Jack was staring up at the ceiling and frowning. "Guess I just expected it to lessen somewhat once I was back with my ship an' my crew."

Jack leaned close and whispered softly into his ear, "And what's your plan, Commodore Norrington, if we're not able to cut each other loose when the enchantment ends?"

"You know full well it would be unthinkable to continue in this manner once we're men again."

Jack looked down and studied him thoughtfully for several seconds, and James couldn't shake the unaccountable sensation that Jack was feeling sorry for him.

"Course I know that," Jack agreed finally. "Duty and what-not." He closed his eyes then and gave an indifferent sniff. "Ya probably got skinny legs, anyways."

James raised his head, fully prepared to dispute that, but Jack lifted a finger and wagged it at him warningly. "Night, James," he whispered.

"Not quiet enough." James answered, intercepting Jack's hand at the opening of his pouch.

Jack squirmed atop him. "Christ, I'm on fire for ya this mornin'." He dove down and took James's mouth in a hungry, determined kiss.

This isn't a good idea, James thought, arching against the press of Jack's rapidly swelling pouch—but, oh, it was beginning to feel like a very necessary idea.

Jack slid down James's body, licking and kissing as he went and slipped his hand deeply into James's pouch, pulling him free of its confining folds. Jack's mouth was on him before he was even fully hard.

James swallowed down a choked gasp and thrust his firming prick deeper into the wet, heat engulfing him. The timbers of the bunk squeaked ominously from his movements and he froze.

He felt Jack grin around his prick and then there was no quarter given. One calloused hand was cupping his sac, the thumb delicately tracing around and over the stones within. Jack's other hand was rhythmically squeezing the knot and his mouth... oh dear God, Jack's mouth.

The tip of his tongue was slipping under the foreskin, easing it back over the swollen head of his cock and then Jack was sliding his mouth down its length.

James's tail arched and curled around Jack's and the damned bunk creaked again. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and willed himself to stillness and silence while his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest.

He could hear footsteps on the deck above them and the low murmur of voices just beyond the cabin door... and underlying it all, the soft, wet sounds of Jack's mouth on his shaft.

He bit down hard on his lip to keep silent, but when Jack did something utterly devastating with his hand and tongue, James's control was all but lost. He felt his balls draw tight against his body and the muscles of his tail quiver in anticipation.

He must have made another noise, because Jack's hand had slipped up his body and was clamped hard against his mouth.

He could hear voices again, right outside the cabin door. The bright spark of fear at the very real possibility of discovery tripped him into a sudden, blinding pleasure and he spent hard into Jack's mouth,

When he finally opened his eyes, Jack was crawling back up his body, smug as a cat and inordinately pleased with himself.

"Aye, but what a lovely madness, eh?" Jack bit James lightly on the chin and then licked along his jaw to his ear. "My turn," he growled low in his throat.

Before James had a chance to answer there was a bang on the cabin door, and Gibbs calling, "Cap'n, we're comin' up on another ship."

Jack lifted his head and looked into James's eyes. He whispered a desperate, anguished "No!" then dropped his head to James's shoulder. "Damnation!" he hissed, then raised his head to call over his shoulder, "Right with ya, Mr. Gibbs."

There was only one black ship in these waters and apparently the Spanish weren't foolish enough to try to take her on. They had already run up a flag of surrender and James could see her crew milling desolately on the forecastle deck

Jack held the spyglass to his eye and scanned the ship. "Easy pickin's," he murmured thoughtfully, "real easy pickin's."

James tensed beside him and wondered if Jack would remember his promise. Though, he tried to rationalize to himself, it was a Spanish ship.

Still, he was deeply relieved when Jack snapped the spyglass closed and handed it off to Gibbs. "Pass her by, Mr. Gibbs. We're after bigger fish, and time is short."

Jack continued to study the Spanish ship, arms crossed and fingers of one hand drumming against his arm. He broke into an impish grin suddenly and called out to the crew, "Bring us in close as we pass, lads, and we'll have some fun before we send that Spanish whore on her way."

Jack headed for the helm then. The stairs were a bit of trial, but Jack managed it and when James realized where Jack was going, he made his way to the port gunwale to watch.

By the time the Pearl overtook and began to pass the smaller ship, Jack was in place and ready.

"Ahoy!" Jack bellowed across the water. When he was certain of the Spanish crew's full attention, he raised his hand high into the air and announced solemnly: "This is the day you will always remember as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow let you escape."

Watching the horrified, astonished expressions on the faces of the Spanish crew, as they caught sight of Jack, draped full length and in full sight across the helm's railing, was a memory that James was quite certain he would cherish for the rest of his days.

The Spanish crew never uttered a word. There was only a stunned dead silence as the Pearl glided majestically past and her captain leaned against the rigging casually twitching his tail.

Well, James thought, with a snicker, this will certainly add fuel to the stories and legends of Jack Sparrow. There were already tales a plenty of Jack's alleged fey powers and some had even whispered that he had a signed a pact with the Devil to secure his escape from the East India Trading Company. James knew that Jack relied heavily on that reputation and the superstitious nature of sailors. Why, even his own men had been whispering amongst themselves that Jack would charm up some means of escape, when he was last headed for the gallows in Port Royal.

James watched Jack heading across the deck to him now, laughing and accepting handshakes and back slaps from his crew as he made his way. James offered up a swift thankful prayer to the heavens that Jack had escaped that day.

Jack pressed his hands together and gave that odd, almost mocking bow. "Leverage, Commodore," he murmured.

Jack slid close and flicked his tail out to twine and curl with James's for a quick caress.

James looked up in surprise. Jack's gaze was wandering slowly—and far too intimately—along the length of James's tail.

"Jack," James warned, casting a furtive glance around the deck to see if anyone had noticed. There would be no mistaking the look Jack was giving him for anything other than what it was.

Jack dragged his gaze slowly from James's tail to his face, his eyes dark and hungry. "Well bloody hell, James, I want..." he bit off his words and looked across the deck, face pulled into a petulant scowl.

"Well, I..." he searched Jack's face uncertainly for a moment then shrugged. "Perhaps I don't."

Jack looked out over the rail and nodded toward a distant land mass. "We should be in shallower waters by early afternoon, and we'll be able to swim."

He brought his attention back to James, cocked his head to the side and studied him for a long moment with narrowed, thoughtful eyes. James twitched under the steady gaze and almost jumped when Jack leaned forward suddenly to whisper exactly what it was that he did want.

James drew back slowly and looked at him incredulously. "You want to swim, along that coast..." he dropped his voice then and hissed, "and you want to mate while we're doing it?"

"Well, luv, we could always make another wager first. Make it interesting if ya think ya need incentive."

James was silent for several seconds and then, "Well, you've thought this out quite thoroughly haven't you?"

It wasn't that the idea didn't have appeal. It actually had a great deal of appeal, and that may well have been part of the reason for James's resistance to it—a reluctance to admit that he wanted to be taken again. That, and of course the sheer foolishness of such an act so close to the watchful eyes of Jack's crew.

Mostly though, it had to do with power—and James knew it was small of him even as he thought it—but still. He was astute enough to realize that with his precarious position here on the Pearl, the balance of power between them was, at the moment, tipped decidedly in Jack's favor.

"I rather think I would prefer to be... well, to be the one who does the taking."

The corners of Jack's mouth twitched. "It's like that, is it?" Jack was apparently (and annoyingly) astute enough to recognize James's reasoning on the matter.

Jack draped a hand over his shoulder, glanced furtively to his left, then to his right, and leaned close to James's ear in the manner of a man bestowing a great confidence. "What say you to changing the terms of our first little wager then, eh? The one concernin' the reef?"

James tilted his head to look into Jack's face. "To what?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Seein' as how you have such a great confidence in His Majesty's Navy—how 'bout, winner takes the loser?"

James hesitated for half a moment and Jack sat back and spread his arms wide, "Whatta ya got to lose, eh mate?"

James wasn't convinced that there wasn't some manner of trickery involved somewhere; nonetheless, he held out his hand to seal the wager. "Agreed."

"It's a tight ship or none at all." Jack's tone was light and his expression bland, but none seemed to doubt his seriousness when he added, "If any of you take exception to that, I'll be glad to drop you off at the next port."

They did mutter amongst themselves, though, as they scrubbed and polished, but they kept a closer ear for the rasp of scales against timber that signaled Jack's approach.

James retreated to the captain's cabin and availed himself of Jack's surprisingly extensive library. Reading was a guilty pleasure he rarely had the time to indulge in.

Jack peeked in once to freshen himself at one of the water barrels. "Makin' yourself to home are ya, Commodore?"

James looked up from his book. "I'd gladly take up a task if you have one for me."

Jack studied him for a moment and then shook his head. "No... I'll not have ya scrubbing the deck like a common swab."

He paused at the door and turned back. "You just rest, Commodore," Jack said in a voice meant to carry to those of the crew who were working on deck, "I'd hate to see ya sufferin' a relapse after last night's little mishap."

Jack had made several such comments throughout the morning, smugly confident that he would be winning their wager.

At least, James thought, listening to Jack bellow more orders, lovemaking—whichever way it went—would sweeten Jack's mood. He returned to his reading.

Jack was at the railing, spyglass in hand. When he spotted James coming across the deck towards him, he lifted the spyglass and trained it on James, the corner of his lip curling into a sly smirk.

Most of the crew was in the galley below and it was only Gibbs at the helm... but still.

"Sparrow," James hissed when he reached Jack's side, "are you trying to get us caught?"

"Can't help it, mate. Haven't ya ever noticed how risk increases a man's ardor?" He pointed across the water. "Besides, see that bit o' land out there? That's Isla de la Juventud." He curled their tails together and leaned close to breathe into James's ear, "and the reef."

Some of the crew were coming back up through the companionway now and Jack slid away from his side and headed across the deck to their barrel of food.

"What say we finish this off, eh, James?" he called, "I'd rather not waste time searchin' for a meal once we make the reef."

Jack was leaning into the barrel, face and arms partially submerged and fishing for the mussels and oysters at the bottom, when the ship dipped into a swell. He lost his balance and slid head first down into the barrel, his tail thrust upward into the air.

The tail held motionless for a moment and then began to flail wildly, seeking something—anything—to grasp onto. Failing that, the tail sagged over the lip of the barrel, its feathery tips just dusting the deck.

The crew had gathered now at a safe distance to watch, and Anamaria squatted down beside James.

"I'm sure he's fine." James grinned broadly as Jack struggled to stretch the flukes far enough to make contact with the deck.

James could see Jack's effort in the play of muscles in his tail, but it just wasn't quite enough. The tail went still again and then in a brilliant display of temper, a furious thumping came from inside the barrel.

Anamaria snickered beside James. "Think we're gonna need to rescue him, Commodore."

"Considering the number of brigs the man has escaped from, I daresay a barrel will prove to be no match for him."

Jack was still banging from inside the barrel, but now he added his tail to the mix and angrily swung it back to slap against the opposite lip of the opening. The barrel teetered briefly from the impact and then settled back to the deck with a dull thump. The noise from within stilled for a moment and then Jack began to swing his tail back and forth with a heroic determination. His efforts finally paid off and in one great crash of splintering wood, Jack was sent skittering and sliding across the deck in a shower of water and shellfish. He landed in a heap beside James and Anamaria.

Jack gave his head a shake and sat up. A quick glare in the crew's direction sent them scurrying off to their posts and then Jack swung his head around to glare at James.

"Come on, James, you've a real wit to ya and I expect you're just bursting, so out with it."

James only shook his head. There was any number of things he would love to say, but pirate or no, Jack was still the captain and with Anamaria beside him, he kept his thoughts to himself.

"Actually, Captain Sparrow, I'd like to take a swim, and I believe we have a reef to map."

"Anamaria, take the helm and spell Mr. Gibbs. And see to it that you keep to the bearings I set," he called after her. "If there's to be a change, I'll come back to the ship and alert you."

A Fish Tale

Chapter 11