Drabble Challenge: 'First Day'
Oct. 1st, 2005 09:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dwgmI have me a wonderful new Gibbs icon, thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
honorat's kindness in permitting me to use her artwork. Had to write some Mr. Gibbs dialogue to go with it, of course, so here's my reply to the current drabble challenge at Black Pearl Sails ('First Day').
A prequel to A Word in Private
By the Saints, the lass were in a foul mood that morning. “Josh, yer with me!” she says, and I cringed some, for I knew ‘er plan: muckin’ out the captain’s quarters.
The place stank of Barbossa, and that blasted monkey of his, too. Disgustin’. We polished up the windows, an’ opened ‘em wide, lettin’ in the sea air. Then we got busy, chuckin’ out ten years' worth of leavin’s, and Ana mutterin’ to ‘erself, like the edge of a storm, all the while.
Well, we’d gone through near all of it when the mutterin’ stops, sudden like, and she calls me over to ‘er. She’d moved a chest away from the bulkhead, and there was a bookcase, built right in, the books untouched an’ all over dust, but bound with leather, most of ‘em.
She took one out, an’ opened it, and now she asks me what it says.
I’ll tell ye, seein’ those words, writ in that bold, flourishin' hand, the voice stuck in me throat a bit. “It’s Jack’s,” I says, finally. “Captain Jack Sparrow. It’s ‘is journal. From before.”
She studied the words a while, an’ leafed through it. Couldn’t read it, but it seems to’ve spoke to ‘er anyway, ‘cause she left off mutterin’.
“All right. Back to work,” is all she says to me.
I went, but saw how she took and dusted off each o’ those books, holdin’ ‘em like they was treasure.
An’ that night, after supper, she asks me to read her a bit out o’ that journal. Which I did. An’ every night after that, too, even after we’d reached Tortuga.
Every night. ‘Til Turner came to find us.
But she’d made up ‘er mind that first day, I reckon.
~.~
Author's Note: You may have noticed this renders my recent story, Spindrift A/U. I was thinking about that whole gapfiller thing and decided this was the better way to go.
Also, I had forgotten I'd promised to write more present tense Gibbs/Ana/Jack forlinaelyn after I posted A Word In Private. Since that's part of that gapfiller at the end of the movie, I'm going to work on that this week.
Such fun!
honorat's kindness in permitting me to use her artwork. Had to write some Mr. Gibbs dialogue to go with it, of course, so here's my reply to the current drabble challenge at Black Pearl Sails ('First Day').~ A Change in the Weather ~
A prequel to A Word in Private
By the Saints, the lass were in a foul mood that morning. “Josh, yer with me!” she says, and I cringed some, for I knew ‘er plan: muckin’ out the captain’s quarters.
The place stank of Barbossa, and that blasted monkey of his, too. Disgustin’. We polished up the windows, an’ opened ‘em wide, lettin’ in the sea air. Then we got busy, chuckin’ out ten years' worth of leavin’s, and Ana mutterin’ to ‘erself, like the edge of a storm, all the while.
Well, we’d gone through near all of it when the mutterin’ stops, sudden like, and she calls me over to ‘er. She’d moved a chest away from the bulkhead, and there was a bookcase, built right in, the books untouched an’ all over dust, but bound with leather, most of ‘em.
She took one out, an’ opened it, and now she asks me what it says.
I’ll tell ye, seein’ those words, writ in that bold, flourishin' hand, the voice stuck in me throat a bit. “It’s Jack’s,” I says, finally. “Captain Jack Sparrow. It’s ‘is journal. From before.”
She studied the words a while, an’ leafed through it. Couldn’t read it, but it seems to’ve spoke to ‘er anyway, ‘cause she left off mutterin’.
“All right. Back to work,” is all she says to me.
I went, but saw how she took and dusted off each o’ those books, holdin’ ‘em like they was treasure.
An’ that night, after supper, she asks me to read her a bit out o’ that journal. Which I did. An’ every night after that, too, even after we’d reached Tortuga.
Every night. ‘Til Turner came to find us.
But she’d made up ‘er mind that first day, I reckon.
~.~
Author's Note: You may have noticed this renders my recent story, Spindrift A/U. I was thinking about that whole gapfiller thing and decided this was the better way to go.
Also, I had forgotten I'd promised to write more present tense Gibbs/Ana/Jack for
linaelyn after I posted A Word In Private. Since that's part of that gapfiller at the end of the movie, I'm going to work on that this week.Such fun!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-01 07:42 pm (UTC)a) Jack keeps journals
b) They clean his cabin for him
c) Barbossa didn't even think the journals were worth bothering about
d) They're still there after 10 years
e) Anamaria wants to hear their stories.
Really perfect.
(and the Gibbs icon is marvelous)
(ps - do you know what's up with BPS? i can't seem to get to them today)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-01 07:52 pm (UTC)(No, I don't know what's up with BP Sails. Haven't been able to get to the messages all day, and my post of this story just now appeared in my email. Must be something dire going on at Yahoo. Guess I'll just have to write more fic tonight, rather than working on the website.)
I'm so glad you enjoyed the ficlet! And yes, my icon is fantastic, thanks to