FIC: A Peculiar Education (1/1)

Title: A Peculiar Education
Author: Nix
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: E/W, some hints of E/W/J.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters herein are owned by the Walt Disney corporation, and were borrowed without permission. No offense was intended, and no profit made.
Notes: sequel to 'Of Shackles and the Sun', available here.


***
It had been two days, two nights. The water was calm now, and the sun high in the sky, and if Will didn’t get a moment alone with Elizabeth he was going to do something incredibly stupid. Borrowing the away boat, for example. Or possibly the crow’s nest. Or going to Jack and begging for a simple two hours alone with his new wife.

It wasn’t from lack of trying, of course, on everyone’s end. The crew had left them to their own devices the first night, and only Jack was really laughing at them in the process. But then, Will had come to expect such things from Jack. He was feeling infinitely more forgiving, as Jack had offered them the captain’s chamber.

(“Privacy,” Jack had drawled, and spent several awkward moments trying to conjure up a wink before giving up and falling back on a leer.)

The first night had been lost to sheer exhaustion, when Gibbs and Jack had finally let them retreat from the deck for rest. The second had been lost to a squall that had demanded everyone’s attention for two hellish hours, only to leave them dripping, aching and spent. Will was not opposed to being spent with Elizabeth, but he rather thought his method was better.

And now they were coming up on Tortuga. Will was a largely practical man, but spending one’s belated wedding night in a brothel... well, it seemed ill-advised. For one thing, Elizabeth deserved better. For another, at least they’d already stripped and boiled the linens on Jack’s bed.

There was something very, very wrong about borrowing Jack’s bed for any purpose other than sleeping. It was still better than the brothel idea.

Turning to look over his shoulder at Elizabeth, Will felt his heart do strange things in his chest at the sight of her. She looked wonderful in britches and a man’s shirt, the sun in her hair and that slight smile on her mouth. Her eyes flashed as she said something to AnaMaria, expression intent. When Elizabeth turned, he could see the shadow of her body through the cloth (“not proper!” screamed his mind on instinct), slim and curved. He wanted to fit her curves in his hand. He wanted to-

“Aye, mate, watch yer ‘ead! Watch yer ‘ead!”

Will flinched, jerked back from that pleasant daydream to the raucous scream of Cotton’s parrot. It ruffled its wings, looking put-out from its perch on Gibbs’ shoulder. Gibbs, on the other hand, looked only sympathetic.

“Sorry,” Will muttered, feeling the heat creep into his face, and reached for the rope he’d been pulling.

Gibbs shook his head. “Put the rope down. Jack says you’re to come talk to him before you ‘damage his poor ship’.” After a moment, he slapped Will’s shoulder hard enough to numb it. “Stow the long face, lad, we’re almost to Tortuga.”

“Yes,” Will said grimly, “that’s what concerns me.”
***
Jack was at the wheel when Will reached him, muttering to himself and staring fixedly at that damned compass. When Will moved to look over his shoulder, Jack snapped the compass shut and turned to look at him. The beads in his hair swung and clicked alarmingly.

It occurred to Will that he probably needed more sleep than he had been getting lately, if beads were becoming unnerving. Then again, considering their owner, sleep might not help matters.

“Ah. You,” Jack said, then waved at the trunk strapped to the hull. “Sit.”

Will sat, and waited. And waited. And waited. After several long moments of Jack staring into space, Will prodded, “Yes?”

Jack flapped a hand at him, irritated, stared into space for a moment longer, then nodded. Turning his attention to the wheel, he made a minute adjustment. “I take it from your staring,” he said finally, “you haven’t yet imbibed in the former Miss Swann’s... hmm. Pleasures.”

Will bristled. “We were only just married!”

That earned him a look over Jack’s shoulder, the sort that suggested Will was missing out on one of life’s great rewards again. It was, Will thought sourly, the ‘eunuch’ look. Jack restrained himself to a snort and a roll of his eyes before turning away again. Another nudge to the wheel. “But you’ve been to a brothel.”

“Certainly not!”

Another disbelieving stare. That time, when Jack turned away he muttered something along the lines of ‘might as well have been a bloody eunuch’ before descending into moody silence.

Will crossed his arms across his chest, sitting back. “Some of us have self control.”

“And that’d be her, judging from that little display by the mast.” Jack drummed his fingers on the wheel for a moment. “You’ve at least done it by your onesies?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business!”

“Oh, so you have. Good. You’re not completely hopeless. It’s just that no one’s explained these matters.”

Actually, Governor Swann had given it a noble try, but had only managed a few confused comparisons before blustering that if Will did wrong by Elizabeth, he could expect to find an abrupt end at the hands of the British Navy. Then he had retreated, red in the face, leaving Will even more confused than he’d been before. “No,” Will said, a touch sheepishly.

“Ah. Well, you’re in good hands, mate.” Said hands swept idly in the air above the wheel, tracing the hourglass shape of most of the women in Tortuga. “I know everything there is to know about women.”

“Except when to duck.”

“Would you like my worldly advice or not?”

Will fought a losing battle with his pride, glanced at Elizabeth, and sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry. Please go on.”

“Thank you,” Jack said, a touch haughtily. “Anyhow. What I was saying. Women… women are like... they’re like trees. No. Like birds. Lots of plumage, lots of noise. Savvy?”

More comparisons. Will resisted the urge to put his heads in his hands. “Lots of noise. Right.” Apparently resisting the first urge broke his chances of resisting the second, as the words came out without regard for Will’s tenuous situation. “I thought birds were like pirate captains in that respect.”

“Mate, you should be so bloody lucky.” Giving Will a moment to be properly confused over that statement, Jack went on. “Now, women... they like to be petted. Stroked.”

“Like birds.”

“No. Birds’ll bite your hand off. Women only do that if you try to pet them in public.”

“Jack, I think you’ve lost me.”

“You were lost long before you met me. Blame your father.” The wind blew a beaded strand of hair into Jack’s mouth. He spat it out, muttered something, then began again. “Now. Women. You have to be slow. Romance them. Or liquor them, depending on the woman, but yours is much too fine for that.” Some strange expression crossed Jack’s face, and was gone before Will could ask. “Much too fine.”

“Romance them,” Will echoed, trying to salvage something from this conversation.

“Basically, keep their clothes on. Talk pretty. Make up a few poems-“

Alarmed, Will sat up straighter. “Poems,” he said, a little desperately.

“Lie. Atrociously. Rhyme while you do it. Women love it. Tell her she’s beautiful, tell her she’s like a flower-“

“I thought she was like a bird!”

“She’s like a flower now. Keep up. Tell her you love her.”

Will smiled. As always when he stopped to think of it, that feeling struck him hard enough to steal breath and words. “That wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Well, congratulations to you. You’re one up on most of us.” Jack turned from the wheel again to stare at Will, considering. When he spoke again, something in his voice had changed. That note of madness had gone, taking laughter with it. “If you love her, do what comes to you. Gently. Slowly. But of course you would, wouldn’t you.”

“Is that what you’d do?”

“No. But then I’m not a man in love, am I?”

Will grinned. “You’re a romantic.”

That quickly, Jack’s serious mood broke. “Ah, what a curse to throw at a man. I’ve hung decent pirates for less. Get your woman, lad, we’re coming up on port. You’ll be rid of us in a few moments, and then the Pearl’s your own for the night. Try to keep the screaming down.”

Will considered asking, decided against it. Jack’s leer was explanation enough. “Of course,” Will said instead. “And... thank you.”

Jack swept his hat off and clasped it to his chest. “Twas nothing, mate. Buy me new sheets and we’ll call it square. Savvy?”

Ah. So there was that hidden incentive. Will didn’t lose his smile; he was a touch relieved to find that Jack didn’t expect something more elaborately bizarre. “Savvy.”

Strangely, when he reached the steps leading below deck, Elizabeth was waiting for him. The timing spoke of being planned, but Will was a touch too overwhelmed by her to be concerned. She reached out her hand, smiling a secret, and he took it carefully in his own. His heart was in his throat, pounding madly. He felt dizzy, drowning in her eyes as he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

She smiled and led him below.
****
“Did you explain it?”

It was a blunt question from a blunt woman. Jack looked up at AnaMaria. “Of course.”

She ‘hmphed’, a noise laden with scorn as only a woman could manage. “Did you explain it well?”

“Did you?” When she opened her mouth, Jack waved a hand at her. “Beyond handing her a box of pennyroyal tea and telling her that if she has a babe we’ll use it, and her, to make jerky. Because in polite circles, they usually call that a threat.”

AnaMaria sat beside him on the trunk, a solid line of heat against his side. She sat like a man, knees apart, and made it look graceful. “I explained things men shouldn’t hear, and you won’t get more than that from my mouth.”

“I’ve gotten a great deal from your mouth,” Jack murmured, then raised a hand to block her slap. Holding her hand, he kissed the knuckles of it. “Easy, love. A joke.”

“Hmph,” she said again, then extricated her hand from his grip. “And you? Did you give the boy more than a few confused sentences and bad advice?”

“I don’t give bad advice.”

She rolled her eyes. “’Ana, Ana, let me borrow your boat. You won’t regret it.’”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Sparrow promises,” she said, her voice rich with disgust, but she didn’t move to hit him again. Rising, she dusted off her knees. “Are you coming with us?”

Jack smiled. “Someone has to guard the Pearl. The children are otherwise occupied.”

“Jack,” she sighed. “Your heart is too soft.”

“Hmm. Someone should have mentioned that to Barbossa.” His eyes spoke a warning, like the song of a blade being drawn. Reaching for the flask of rum, Jack flapped a hand at her. “Go on.”

With a last shake of her head, she went, leaving Jack to the shadows.
***
TBC.