Title: Off Duty Author: Jae Kayelle Feedback: writetosell@sasktel.net Pairing: Sparrow/Norrington Rating: R Disclaimer: Disney and Bruckheimer own their characters. The original characters are mine and may not be used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profits made from this work of fiction. Summary: a pirate, a commodore and Cupid... all in disguise. Warnings: unrelenting schmoop and fluffiness. ;-) Off Duty
* * * James took his morning tea out to the garden. Already fully dressed to go to work he stood for a few moments sipping the Earl Grey and simply breathing in the scents drifting up from the grove of fruit trees towards the house. He looked out on the small grove of oranges and starfruit that he had obtained along with the house and the rank of Commodore. He had reaped the benefits of those trees many times. Just then a chirpy squeak caught his attention. He looked around the yard but could not see the source of the sound. Perhaps a bird...Then he heard it again only it was closer. He looked down as a tiny ball of white fluff trotted out from under a bush, and headed straight to his feet where it plopped its back end down and proceeded to bat at the buckle on his shoe. "Well, hello there," he said. The fluff squeaked at him again. Then a claw pricked his ankle. James bent down, set his teacup on the step and plucked the little one off his foot, bringing the kitten up to eye level. It immediately settled comfortably in the palm of his hand. A small pink tongue flicked out and began delicately washing the finger nearest to its mouth. "Thank you very much, but I did bathe this morning. Unless you think I could have done better?" The washing began in earnest. "Hmmph," James huffed. "I shall endeavour to improve my technique in the future. So, do you have a home?" A low purr emanated from somewhere in the centre of the fluff. James cradled the kitten close to his chest, being careful not to get white hair on his blue uniform, and gently stroked the back of the little head with one finger and then with his whole hand. The purring grew louder while amber eyes closed in ecstasy. Its head pushed against the palm of James' hand. "I shall have the servants ask around the neighbourhood to see if anyone is missing you. If not, you may stay here. How does that sound?" A wriggle and a lick were his answer. "I've been meaning to get a cat. We had cats back home in England. If you stay you have to promise to earn your keep. That means keeping the mouse population down to zero. Do you think you can do that?" The mouth opened to reveal a full set of miniature teeth. They were small but they looked sharp. "I'll take that as a yes." He went into the house. His housekeeper was busy cleaning up the breakfast dishes. "Mrs. Russell, do you know of anyone whose cat has had kittens recently?" "Are you looking to get a cat, Commodore?" She had not turned around yet. "I think perhaps one has found me." She glanced over her shoulder, saw the kitten and dried her hands on the towel over her shoulder. Then she bustled over to him. "Ohh, what a sweet little thing! Are you keeping her?" "If some child is not crying their eyes out over a lost pet, then yes, I think I might. Would you and Henry ask around when you are out and about today? See if anyone is missing a kitten?" "Of course, sir. But first we must feed the little darlin'." She fetched a dish of cream and then took the kit from him, setting it down on the floor in front of the dish. That pink tongue appeared again and began lapping at the treasure before it. James watched for a minute and then said, "I'd best be going. Heaven knows that pile of paperwork on my desk might run off if I don't soon get there to deal with it." Mrs. Russell nodded knowingly. "You wouldn't want that to happen, now would you?" James merely smiled and bid her a good day. Then he collected his hat and left the house. Upon his return that evening Mrs. Russell informed him that the kitten was from a litter down the street, but the owners were busy trying to find homes for it and its siblings. If he wanted it he could keep it. "Excellent. Now we need to give you a name," he said to the kitten, which he had picked up immediately upon entering the house. It had run to greet him, after all. What was he to do - ignore it? "Are you a boy or a girl?" The kitten did not answer him, preferring to keep such personal information to itself. Mrs. Russell admitted, "I did not think to find out. I've been calling it "her", but we'd best find out for sure." A quick check under the tail settled the matter. "Ah, a wee girl after all. Do you have a name for her, sir?" James contemplated it for a moment. "She is a sweet thing. How about Sugar?" Mrs. Russell beamed at him. "Well done, sir. It suits her." "Sugar it is, then." Sugar soon had James and the servants wrapped around her little paw. A more content cat could not be found in all of Port Royal. She often played around his feet when he worked in his study, but more often than not, she ended up on his lap. She also slept on the bed with him when he retired for the night, curling up behind his knees or snuggling under his chin on the pillow. More than once her whiskers tickled his nose but he merely brushed them aside and fell asleep, as content as his new housemate. The day Sugar went missing James was devastated. She was playing in the garden the last time he saw her, but did not return home when he called her. He searched the yard and the neighbours' yards on either side until he had to go to the fort. Worrying about her made him, by turns, short-tempered and absent-minded all day. Finally he left early, returning home to find out if Sugar had come back. She had not. Mrs. Russell tried to make him feel better by baking a batch of his favourite cookies but they were tasteless to him. He kept up appearances by being stoic about his loss, but he fooled no one. The next day even his lieutenants asked what was hurting him and could they do anything for him. He shrugged it off, determined not to let the loss of one little kitten upset his carefully ordered world. However, he felt the sting in the back of his eyes when there was no small, warm and furry body sharing his bed that night. He finally fell asleep chastising himself for getting so attached to an animal. Sugar had been gone almost two weeks and James was resolutely settling back into his routine. Today, however, he was not expected to go to the Fort. There were no pirates threatening Port Charles so he decided to try to relax and enjoy his day off for once. Normally he would go in anyway and catch up on paperwork, but he had stayed a few extra hours the day before doing that very thing. He had been planning this day off for a while. His personal sloop needed work, sails needed mending and perhaps a coat of paint would not go amiss. So he had arisen early and enjoyed a delicious breakfast of fruit and biscuits slathered with orange marmalade. Dressed in old clothes, his chestnut hair tied back with a blue ribbon and a battered tricorn hat firmly on his head, he set off to the docks where his sloop, Seaborne was berthed. Many hours later, as he strolled up the lane towards home, he felt satisfied that his day had been spent in good stead. His long neglected boat was shipshape and ready for the day when he would finally take her out. He made a mental note to also work that day into his schedule. It seemed to be the only way he accomplished anything in his limited spare time. Drawing closer to his house he noticed a stranger entering his yard and walking around to the back. James followed, all of his senses on alert. It was not often he got visitors and even more seldom were they unannounced. From the back the man was shorter and slighter than he, with dark hair pulled back into a long ponytail, the tendrils curling at the ends. The heavy mass was tied off with a bright red ribbon. He wore ordinary clothes, much the same as what James was wearing, only of better quality and obviously not made for mucking around on a boat. The stranger stopped to admire the fruit trees and reached up to help himself from one of the orange trees. He plucked an orange from the branches and proceeded to peel it then and there. James's eyebrow lifted. Whoever this fellow was he possessed a lot of nerve, or else he had no regard for other people's property. James decided to make his presence known. "May I help you, sir?" The man spun around, obviously startled. His dark eyes quickly assessed James, peering at him as if unsure who he was before recognition dawned. James stood looking back at him with mouth agape. "Sparrow!" he sputtered. The elfin face with the twin-braided beard was cleaner than he had last seen it three months previously. High, wide cheekbones under a golden tan gave him an even more exotic look without his normal ostentatious pirate garb and kohl lined eyes as a distraction. "Sir. I like that. As to whether you can help me, Commodore, Your Worship, sir, 'm not sure. I would like to help you, however." "Help me? How? Why?" "So many questions, mate. I've been watching you the last week. You're overworked. Glad to see you taking a day off, though. That's a step in the right direction." "You've been following me?" James did not like that at all. He prided himself on being aware of his surroundings at all times. The idea that this...pirate had been around for a week and he had not known it was unnerving. "Well, not following exactly. I saw you off in the mornings and made sure you got home at night. Can't be too careful." He cocked his head to one side and grinned. James had many questions but the one that made it to the fore was, "Why?" "I like you, mate." While James was digesting that, Sparrow continued. "You seem like a good man. You treated Liz'beth and Will right. You even let me go. I noticed that you didn't come after me right away when I jumped from the fort." "Fell." "Jumped. Anyway, I appreciate the good will you extended to all three of us. Thought I'd repay the favour by watching out for you for a while." "I can take care of myself," James stated flatly. "And you're doing a fine job," Sparrow said hastily. "But one man alone could always use some help." Maybe it was James's imagination, but he thought Sparrow had placed some emphasis on the word "alone". His temper flared. "I don't need your help." "Come on, mate. Let me do something for you." "No. Go. Away. Before I arrest you again." Looking dejected, Sparrow sighed and walked away. James watched until the pirate was out of sight down the road. Suddenly tired beyond the day's physical labour he entered the house. He did not sleep well that night with dreams of well-dressed pirates attacking him at his house. The next evening he went home to be greeted by Mrs. Russell ready with a hot supper and a warm smile. "How was your day, Commodore?" "Long. Busy. Tiring." "Oh dear. Well, you'll feel better after you eat." Dear woman. Thought eating could solve everything. Given that she and her husband and two children were all rather roly-poly, but were happy as any people he had ever met, she might be onto something. As he tucked into the food she busied herself around the kitchen, chattering to him as she went about her tasks. This was why James preferred to eat in the warm kitchen, rather than in his rather austere dining room. She was a good cook, too, and it was easier to ask for seconds when the food was right there. "...your friend Jack." "Pardon?" He hadn't been listening too closely. "That nice man was here today, asking if there was something he could do for you. He seemed to think that you need looking after. I told him that was my job. Then he explained that he meant something special - as a favour of sorts for something you did for him recently. Do you know what he meant by that?" "Y-es. I have an idea of what he meant." "Finally I told him about Sugar. He asked me to describe her and said he would find her for you. I hope it's all right that I told him about the kit." Ignoring the ache in his heart at the mention of the kitten, James nodded. "It's fine. Can't see how Sparrow will be able to find her when we couldn't." "Sparrow! Jack Sparrow the pirate you tried to hang?" "One and the same." "Oh my! I had no idea. He didn't look like a pirate and he was very charming." She seemed quite upset at the idea of a pirate in her kitchen. "Never fear, Mrs. R., Sparrow is quite harmless, I'm sure. You were never in any danger. He's merely a scoundrel who likes to stick his nose in other people's business." Mollified, she settled down. "Oh. Well, that's a relief to hear. I did think he was quite charming." "So you said," James intoned dryly. "If he comes back do not let him in the house." "Certainly, sir." It was another week before James heard of Sparrow again. Another day off and he was lounging on the terrace with his tea and marmalade when he heard a familiar voice from inside the house, and Mrs. Russell scolding the owner of that voice. "You're not to come in here. The Commodore said not to let you in!" "But he'll want to see me today!" By the time James rose from his chair the pirate had slipped past Mrs. Russell and was out on the terrace. "I'm sorry, sir. He's too sneaky." "Yes, that is a common complaint about him." "I am present, y'know. No need to talk about me as if I'm not here," Jack complained. He wore his familiar pirate clothing today including his coat, which he held closed with both hands. He was grubbier than James had ever seen him with face, hands and clothes marked with black grime. "Sparrow..." James began. "Ah!" Jack forestalled him. "I brought you something. Hope it's the right colour and size." Then he opened his coat to reveal a dirty, bedraggled kitten. James had to look twice before he was sure that the greyish fur ball was actually... "Sugar!" He took her from Sparrow and held her away from himself, but up where they could see each other eye to eye. She was covered in black dust and sneezed in his face. She was almost unrecognizable as his white fluffy cat, but there was no mistaking that squeak when she looked at him. "Where have you been, sweetheart?" James asked her, completely forgetting there were others present. "Found her in an abandoned coal bin down the street," Jack answered for her. "She must have fallen in. Lived on mice from the look of it. There were a few carcasses lying about." Sugar raised a sooty paw and patted James on the nose. He kissed her on hers. Mrs. Russell and Jack both smiled at the sight. "Poor wee thing," James cooed. "Were you down there all this time?" Sugar purred loudly enough to be heard across the room. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" "I'll fetch a pan of water and some towels," Mrs. Russell busied herself with those tasks. Jack stepped closer, producing with a flourish a surprisingly white handkerchief. He raised it and said, "Hold still, love." "You'll never get her clean with that," James told him, but Jack used it to rub at James's nose. James pulled back, startled. "Y'had a smudge from the kit's paw." "Oh. Thank you." He felt his face heat up and returned his attention to the kitten. When Mrs. Russell had the kitty bath ready James insisted on being the one to do the honours. Sugar was not happy about being placed in a pan of water. She fussed for a few minutes but James held her fast. She nearly got away on him once until a narrow-wristed hand reached around him to hold the cat. He looked at Jack who regarded him patiently. James said, "Again, thank you." "You're welcome. Cats and water are natural enemies, y'know, mate. She's never going to agree to this of her own free will. I can hold her while you bathe her." "All right. That might work better, at that." Together they got the kitten back to her pristine white self. The towels might never come clean again, however. Mrs. Russell carried them off, clucking her tongue at their state. James wrapped Sugar in the last clean towel and held her close to his chest. "There you go, sweetheart. All better now." She lifted her head and licked his chin before burrowing into the towel. Jack laughed. "Cute thing." "Yes, she is." James smiled unreservedly, happy to be reunited with his kitten. "Oh, aye. The kit is cute too." His gaze shot up and locked with Jack's. Then James felt himself blushing. He turned and walked around the kitchen, rocking the bundle in his arms. "I'm not letting her out of the house unsupervised again." "Doubt if she'll want out for awhile," Jack commented. "Feed her all the tidbits and cream she could want and she'll stay put." "You seem to know cats." "Always had a ship's cat...and when I was a lad we had a kit or two around the place." "Where was that?" James had to ask. He'd wondered about the background of this man since they had met. "Oh, here and there. We took the cats with us - the ones that wanted to go." "You moved around a lot?" "Some." Realizing he was getting nowhere with this line of questioning, James changed the subject. "If you care to join me for supper tonight, you're welcome to do that. It's the least I can do for you bringing Sugar back to me." "A pirate at your table? Are y'sure you won't ruin your reputation as the great pirate hunter?" James smirked. "I think my reputation will be safe. I am the law around here, after all. If I want to invite you to a meal who is going to tell me I cannot?" "I like the way y'think, mate. And I accept your invite." "I had better get cleaned up. I'll tell Mrs. Russell to set an extra place tonight." Realizing he was being dismissed Jack gave him a half bow. "Tonight then." Jack returned promptly at seven o'clock. Once more he was dressed in what James thought of as civilian clothes. He had obviously bathed and taken the braids out of his hair again, wearing it loose over his shoulders. Looking him over, James asked, "Do you think that will make you look less of a pirate?" "Never said I wanted not to look like a pirate. Just tryin' to keep your neighbours from gossiping. Don't want to ruin your reputation." "You seem overly concerned with my reputation." "Told you. I like you." As if that explained everything. James let it pass. Sparrow was company and James would treat said company as well as he would any other. "I believe supper is ready." As Jack followed him into the dining room, he said, "Noticed you say supper instead of the more falutin' dinner." "Old habit. If I'm dining with the Governor I say dinner. Less formal occasions call for less formal connotations." "You're an interesting man, Commodore." "Call me James." He had the pleasure of turning then and seeing Sparrow caught by surprise. Sugar frolicked around their feet throughout the meal, but more than once James slipped her bits of food off his plate. She ended her playtime by climbing onto his knees under the table and falling asleep. He kept one hand on her soft fur to make sure she did not fall off. He caught Jack giving him knowing looks a few times. He and Jack discussed the pirate situation in the Caribbean, coming at it from their respective sides. They had a lively debate over the French and agreed the Spanish were ruthless, at least as far as the brigands that country produced. Then they moved on through English politics to discuss the merits of wine, brandy and rum, failing to reach an accord on either subject. By the time the table was cleared and the drinks in question were brought out in the parlour, James felt very comfortable having Jack in his home. He found him more amiable company than many of his social circle, and certainly more interesting. Jack raised his glass of rum to the light and swirled the contents in the fine cut crystal. "Been a long time since I've drunk this from a glass, but none finer." "You're welcome to try the brandy." "Later, mate. After I've polished off this bottle. Er, I mean, maybe later." James allowed one side of his mouth to curl up. "You surprise me, Jack." "Oh? How?" "By being more than what I thought you were." "Now you're confusing me." "You have a certain amount of sophistication. That in itself is surprising. A man who lives a rough life yet knows his wine and brandy, as well as his rum." "If you're fishing for information on my life, save your breath." Jack smiled to show he was merely amused by James's transparent attempts. James nodded and raised his glass in salute. Just then Sugar climbed up the side of his chair, stood on his legs, turned around twice in his lap and settled in for a nap. Automatically, James placed his hand on her and began stroking her. Sleepy golden eyes shut as she heaved a contented sigh. "Lovely little lassie," Jack said. "Smart, too. She knows where the best seat in the house is. Makes a man envious, it does." Then he stood up and came closer. He crouched beside James, reaching out to pet the kitten. James froze, unsettled by Jack's proximity. The slender hand stroked the soft fur over and over and over, getting close to caressing the back of James's hand a few times. James left his hand where it was. He shifted his position slightly but the cat did not awaken. Jack, however, paused in his petting and looked up, eyes darker than ever, unfathomable, unreadable. After a moment he began again. James lifted his left hand off the arm of the chair to place it on Jack's head. He stroked the dark silky hair apace with Jack's motions on the cat. Jack's eyes slowly shut and James could have sworn the purring he heard came from Jack rather than the kitten. Then Jack lowered his head until it rested lightly on Sugar. She turned her head to look at him, and then stood up, stretched and jumped down from the chair, leaving the room as if bored with them both. Jack's head continued to fall until it nestled comfortably in James's lap. Both men continued their petting - James on Jack's hair, and Jack on James's thigh. "Is your housekeeper abed for the night?" Jack asked quietly. "She went home to her family. I heard the back door close a while ago." Jack rubbed his cheek into the material of James's breeches. James's breath hitched in his throat and suddenly the arousal that had been merely a whisper all evening became a shout. He twitched under Jack's cheek. Shame rushed through him. He made an abortive move to get up but when Jack pressed his hot, wet mouth over the growing bulge, James let the desire run away with him. Jack rose up on his knees until his face was a breath away from James, who could have moved back but did not. Suddenly his whole range of vision was taken by golden skin and gold and white teeth and dark, dark eyes. He could smell the rum on Jack's breath, which was surprisingly sweet otherwise. He remembered it being quite horrible that day on the parapet of the fort, and Governor Swann had complained about the rottenness of pirate breath when they spoke the next day. "So full of contradictions," he said, and then soft piratical lips, which plundered and stole, captured his. "So beautiful," Jack murmured. James put his hands on either side of Jack's face, holding him still while he proceeded with his own questing raid. Jack continued to kneel between his legs, hands resting lightly on James's thighs. Only now his fingers curled and dug into solid flesh, nails scoring marks in the material of James's breeches. Finally James released him and Jack sank back onto his heels. They sat immobile, gazing at one another. Jack's lips were slightly swollen, parting as James stared. "This is where you tell me that this is all wrong and illegal and we should stop now before we go too far." Jack's words came out in a rush making him sound harried, and not at all like the man James thought he knew. Then he realized that it meant Jack was off kilter because he was also swept away by his desires. "Then perhaps we should go straight to the part where we ignore all of that." Jack pushed up and James leaned forward at the same moment so they clashed somewhere in the middle, arms going around each other. Their kiss was blistering. James pressed forward until Jack fell onto his back and James followed him down to the floor, fingers curling around the back of his head to protect it. His hands swept over Jack's body, seeking bare flesh. It took a few minutes of determined struggle, but soon they were both exposed and skin was brushing against skin, palms caressing backs and flanks, and limbs winding around hips. Jack thrust upwards, his erection grazing James's belly and James completely lost his powers of concentration. After that everything was a haze of sensation, burning want and need, his only goal was to hunt down and take his satisfaction. He drove down mindlessly matching Jack's relentless attempts to get under his skin. Then fire blossomed in his centre and James shuddered helplessly. Seconds later Jack bucked under him and then stilled, warmth spreading between them. James's hands skidded on the hardwood floor and he collapsed on top of the other man. Jack merely wrapped his arms and one leg around him and held him close while they both came back to earth. His face buried against Jack's neck, James cleared his throat and said, "Are we at that part yet?" Laughter caused Jack's frame to shake. "Aye. We're there." Something tickled James's side and he felt the slight weight of a four month old kitten walk up the back of his leg and settle in the small of his back. "I am not furniture." Jack blinked at him. "Never said you were, love." "Sugar is napping on top of me," James explained. "A nap sounds good right about now. How about we take ourselves, and your kit, up to your room? If that's all right with you?" James lifted his head so he could look Jack in the eye. He was surprised to see hopefulness and perhaps worry of rejection in the other man's expression. "It's very all right with me." Then he bestowed a quick but firm kiss on Jack. He sat up carefully so as not to startle Sugar. He knew how much damage her claws could do to bare flesh, and really did not want her getting upset when he was in a state of complete undress. She landed with a thump on the floor beside them and squeaked indignantly at them both. After they got to their feet and gathered their clothing, Jack bent down and scooped up the kitten. "Come along, young lady. We're going sleepy-bye now." Quirking an eyebrow at him James asked, ""Sleepy-bye"? What sort of talk is that?" "It's perfectly acceptable for after-sex when there are tender young ears present." James snorted but made no comment. As they went up the stairs, carrying their clothing, Sugar chose then to dig her claws in. "OW!" Jack cried. "She's climbing up to my shoulder!" James cast him a concerned glance but made no move to extricate Jack from the killer cat. "Better that than climbing down to your..." "Don't give her any ideas!" * * * |