Drabble: 'Echoes in the Dark'
Sep. 28th, 2008 02:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dwgmThis is another in my series of Jack/Anamaria ficlets set directly post-CotBP, when Jack first gets the Pearl back. It's set between And So To Bed and A Beautiful Morning (more or less -- a couple of small details don't jive). Many thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hereswith for looking it over!
~ Echoes in the Dark ~
The watch bell woke Jack. He stared blind, wide-eyed, listening frozen to the sounds of wind and water caressing his Pearl. No ominous rumble of rolling shot. He'd dreamed that. His hand clutched the bedclothes, real sheets, worn but clean smelling, and his nose caught other scents: wood, tar, ink and rum and the leather bindings of his old books. And the cold sweat of his own fear.
He swore softly and turned onto his back -- and Ana roused beside him.
"What is it? What time is it? Blast it, I fell asleep!"
He caught at her arm as she made to sit up, but she slapped his hand, so he said, "Stay?"
"No!"
"Please?"
She jerked her arm away and hissed, "You can't cajole me with those pretty eyes in the pitch black, and I ain't about to be taken in a second time."
“Told you I’d get you another boat, and I will. And you liked it that first time. I distinctly remember.”
“Bloody hell,” she muttered, getting off the bed. “That ain’t the point, and you know it! Good night, Captain!”
Jack listened as she bumped and cursed her way to the cabin door and wrenched it open. Her pert form was briefly silhouetted by moonlight before she closed it behind her.
Pretty eyes, eh?
He lay down, smiling. It would take discipline and focus, but there were bits of the past that were worth revisiting. And plans to make for all those new horizons, too.
~.~
hereswith for looking it over! ~ Echoes in the Dark ~
The watch bell woke Jack. He stared blind, wide-eyed, listening frozen to the sounds of wind and water caressing his Pearl. No ominous rumble of rolling shot. He'd dreamed that. His hand clutched the bedclothes, real sheets, worn but clean smelling, and his nose caught other scents: wood, tar, ink and rum and the leather bindings of his old books. And the cold sweat of his own fear.
He swore softly and turned onto his back -- and Ana roused beside him.
"What is it? What time is it? Blast it, I fell asleep!"
He caught at her arm as she made to sit up, but she slapped his hand, so he said, "Stay?"
"No!"
"Please?"
She jerked her arm away and hissed, "You can't cajole me with those pretty eyes in the pitch black, and I ain't about to be taken in a second time."
“Told you I’d get you another boat, and I will. And you liked it that first time. I distinctly remember.”
“Bloody hell,” she muttered, getting off the bed. “That ain’t the point, and you know it! Good night, Captain!”
Jack listened as she bumped and cursed her way to the cabin door and wrenched it open. Her pert form was briefly silhouetted by moonlight before she closed it behind her.
Pretty eyes, eh?
He lay down, smiling. It would take discipline and focus, but there were bits of the past that were worth revisiting. And plans to make for all those new horizons, too.
~.~