Title: Leaving an Impression
Author: SuperiorityComplex88
Pairing: Jack/Elizabeth (WEE!)
Summary: During DMC – SPOILERS! A portrait of Jack Sparrow's thoughts during the lull before the Kraken's final attack on the Pearl. J/E, obviously. :-)
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean – The Curse of the Black Pearl or Dead Man's Chest. Nor do I own any of the characters… although, if the afterlife is as sweet as I think it is, I shall own Captain Jack Sparrow one day. WOO! Hehehe…
Thanks: My awesome-possum beta reader, Remy-Gilmore! (Go read her stuff – she has a lovely little group of Harry Potter/Gilmore Girls one-shots that are right clever…)
Author's Note: My first PotC fic, kids… and it took something as awesome as Dead Man's Chest to wring it out of me, lol… I've seen dozens of one-shots of Lizzie's thoughts during The Kiss, but none so far of Jack's. (Unless I missed any – if so, please leave a comment – I WANNA READ 'EM!) Enjoy…
Following the burning bits of wood as they fell to the deck of the Pearl, Jack felt Elizabeth let go of his leg and rush towards her fiancé. Dazed, he lowered the rifle, surveying his surroundings and breathing in thick smoke and salt. The bodies of his own men lay over the rigging, the rails, and other parts of the ship that were in various states of disrepair. Judging by the murmurs of the remains of his crew below, it seemed as if this was the calm before the storm… or the third storm, as it were. He grimaced knowingly; by no means was the Kraken finished.
On instinct, Jack glanced back at the glorious strip of land he'd forsaken. Trust his compass to have been working when he'd needed it most; he knew it was right to have come back. As he took in the wreckage that was his precious ship, however, he damned himself. Abandoning it had seemed such a peachy idea about ten minutes before… consciences were nasty little buggers.
Making his way down the steps before him, he sighed, knowing that the lot of them needed to move quickly. Maybe it was the effects of having been sober for quite a bit, but he felt a distinct lump in his throat as he counted his significantly smaller crew. Will, Elizabeth, Gibbs, Marty, Cotton, Pintel, and Ragetti. Seven sailors, not including himself.
"Captain! Orders!"
Gibbs's sharp shout jilted him out of his musings, and he reached the deck of the ship to face a group of anxious men. He barely had time to register anything before answering. "Abandon ship, into the longboat."
Yes, he had definitely been sober for too long. A stunned silence followed his order, but Jack merely turned to survey the stretch of water between the Pearl and the land in the distance. Gibbs – ever the reasoning man, Jack noted vaguely – was the first to speak.
"Jack!" Gibbs sputtered, sounding horrified. "The Pearl!"
The Pearl, indeed. Jack's mind wavered… it was such a thing of beauty, this ship… but versus the sight of his own dead men strewn around him, he realized that something had to be done. Taking one last look at the great vessel, he caught a glimpse of Gibbs, who had as much desperation in his expression as Jack felt in his very soul. Even as Jack's eyes grazed the dark wood and worn ropes around him, the words had fallen out of his mouth: "She's only a ship, mate."
A new voice broke into the thick silence. "He's right, we have to head for land."
Mind rightened, he turned to gaze at Elizabeth, who had a very curious look on her face. Jack noted that it felt quite nice to be defended.
The crew looked uneasy, and Pintel studied the land beyond before giving Jack a look laced with worry. "That's a lot of open water."
"That's a lot of water," Ragetti seconded, eye bulging.
They had voiced the trouble of it. Open water was suicide… Only as long as I'm on board, Jack thought, and he was surprised at how casually he accepted it. Or more importantly, how casually everyone else seemed to be accepting it as well. No one had outright said it – perhaps they all trusted him, then. Far too much, Jack's inner-pirate chimed in.
"We can try," Will said, looking around at them all. "We can make it as the ship goes down."
The whole of the group stared at their captain, waiting for some kind of assurance. Jack remained sullen and silent, hoping they would take it as a refusal to retract his order.
"Abandon ship," Gibbs confirmed, thankfully. He seemed heartened as the men began to move; then, louder: "Abandon ship or abandon hope!"
Well, this was new: a sinking feeling in what he knew as his gut… somewhat aching. If this business is guilt, it's chosen quite a nasty time to rear its ugly head, Jack thought grimly. Resolutely, Jack chose a plank of wood to stare at and fixed his eyes on it.
"Thank you, Jack."
There was that voice again. He ripped his eyes from the plank and onto one Elizabeth Swann, who, other than the curious look still on her face, was quite the vision in worn men's garb and sun-burnt skin. She appeared quite tired, Jack noted fondly. Watching the slight smile on her face, he gave her a meaningful look. "We're not through yet, luv." Of course, he said this with all the confidence of the captain he was… or used to be, an ugly inner-voice added.
Still, she took small steps towards him and looked to have blown off his last statement. "You came back," she said simply.
He did come back, he reminded himself. Now, catching most of the crew climbing over the rails and into the longboat, he was damn glad he had come back. He watched her stop within a foot of him and took a moment to admire her. Stringy hair, soft eyes, and parted lips… Those were definitely the features of persuasion, as he remembered well from their previous conversation on the decks of the Pearl.
Halting and seeming to search for words, Elizabeth looked him in the eye and spoke easily. "I always knew you were a good man."
With those words, the entire situation seemed to crash down upon them; he knew the words to be true. If they hadn't been, he would not have returned. The compass would not have pointed back towards the Pearl. Towards her.
Good man though he may have been, he couldn't stop his mind from wantonly relishing that fact; most of all in this world… he wanted her. As the ship rocked beneath them both, he gladly stood still and watched with hooded eyes as she leaned forward and met his lips with her own. And God, this woman – this engaged woman – was so… warm. Her lips seemed to know his well as they captured them multiple times, and finally the shock and lust that were running through Jack's veins seemed to speed up; he set his own lips moving and met her surprising aggression. Her hand flew to his arm and gripped it tightly. Jack almost smirked, but instead lifted his right hand to bury it in her hair. They were moving backwards, but that would do all right, as he thought he may need something to lean against. And there was the mast – his back hit it with a resolute thump, and Elizabeth wasted no time in killing the space between herself, Jack, and the mast itself.
He tried to move his left hand, but she had taken it in her own, and Jack forgot about the crew and the Kraken, because he quite loved this kind of boldness…
Amid the lovely humming that was coursing through Jack, he was aware of a series of harsh clicks.
Then came the absence of Elizabeth's lips, and when he opened his eyes, the expression on her beautiful face was no longer curious, but absolute and wicked. The weight of metal around his left wrist added much insult to the injury, and her face still hovered less than an inch from his own.
All he could do was smile.
"It's after you, not the ship," she managed, as if in explanation. For her, or for him, he wondered… "It's not us."
And it was the truth, Jack noted. Leave it to her to say it out loud. He kept smiling; a dizzied, knowing, satisfied smile… He should have felt awful. Betrayed. Spurned. Played for a damned fool. Instead, he felt… proud?
Her eyes were boring into his still, at once wide and regretful. "And this is the only way, don't you see?"
Indeed, Jack thought as they shared breath. His expression didn't change, but he made sure that his smile and his eyes told her volumes. He wasn't surprised when she leaned forward a bit, as if to kiss him again; he almost let himself meet her efforts before he saw the self-deprecation in her eyes.
"I'm not sorry."
She may not have been sorry, but she was a horrible liar, and Jack thought that made the first point quite moot. Her eyes seemed to stop swimming to await his reaction, and he looked at her with a sense of deep irony to match his smile. The great, mythical, invincible Captain Jack Sparrow, tricked into being attached to the mast of his ship, and at the mercy of Elizabeth Swann, the bearer of justice and womanly wiles, who stuck him there.
His body warmed over with an unidentifiable feeling; this was so absurd and a perfect opportunity and they should be saying impressionable last words to each other or something of that kind…. And with an unyielding smirk, he gave her a response that he knew would both sting and thrill her: "Pirate."
The effect of his words on Elizabeth Swann was one he felt was well worth all this trouble. She wavered quite obviously, and he saw regret, anger, guilt, sorrow, and resolution for one fleeting moment before she turned and fled the ship.
Jack's mouth hung open in a slight smile in the stretch of time afterwards. He'd always trusted his instincts. Once again, they'd proved him right. Elizabeth and him… they were more alike than any other soul would care to know. Minutes later, even with the rumbling of the Kraken pulsating upward through his feet and the lamp oil covering his hand as he wrenched it free of the shackles, he felt confident that he'd made Elizabeth Swann aware of that fact as aptly as possible. At this point, he couldn't think of a better thing to offer her.
A/N: I felt pretty unworthy of being in Jack Sparrow's thoughts - pretty much because this was such a killer, serious, and telling scene between these two characters. Who knows what he was thinking? But I hope you guys enjoyed that - leave reviews! Like rum, they make me very happy! Hehe...