Out of control
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,120
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,120
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
It's 'Lord' now, actually
She didn't appear the next night or the one after that...or the one after that...by the sixth night a part of himself that Beckett would never admit to being aware of idly started to wonder if he'd ever see her again. He need not have worried.
He woke, on the seventh night, at the first featherlight touch to his wrist. In a lightening fast set of movements that he had rehearsed in his mind, Beckett caught her wrist, pulled her to him and rolled over, effectively pinning her down by finding her other wrist,
"Ah" She said before adding a very polite - "good evening" Beckett allowed himself a small smile,
"Indeed" He pushed a knee between her thighs - only half surprised when they opened willingly - and made himself more comfortable,
"So, now that you've captured me, what is it you plan to do with me?" She asked, an amused lilt to her whisper, as if she were still in control of the situation. He frowned as she shifted her hips (he couldn't tell if she was being seductive or merely getting comfortable) and pressed down with his own to still her,
"Where have you been?" He was going to ask a litany of other questions but she interupted by laughing softly,
"Why? Did you miss me?" She leaned up, the dark veil crumpling against his face, "did you?" For a horror stricken moment Cutler struggled for self control,
"That was not an answer" He stated smoothly, "if you're not in a talkative mood I'm sure Mercer can arrange a nice quiet noose for you somewhere" She sighed, letting her head fall back as if defeated,
"I had one or two other matters of buisness to attend too" Her voice sounded almost sulky but became deadly serious as she continued, "there is more than one assassin on contract for you, Lord Beckett" There was a brief pause before she added in a quick rush of breath, "please be careful about it. I didn't risk my life just to see yours end"
"Mercer can take care of them" He said dismissively, ignoring the fact that she had made it past Mercer more than once, "and actually it's 'Governer' Beckett. I don't become a Lord until my father dies" He corrected, almost absent mindedly,
"I know" She whispered in a girlishly sweet voice, "And Mercer is another name for 'gaurd dog who has learned to walk on two legs rather than four'" She said rather cruelly, "and, like a dog, he's wonderfully loyal, quite dangerous and not very bright...at least *think* about hiring someone else" She drawled,
"Your name?" He asked, changing the subject. He *had* intended to ask the name of her employer but his voice seemed interested in other things, there was no way he was going to correct himself and admit to a mistake. There was silence from beneath him and Beckett felt something like detached disappointment. He opened his mouth to call Mercer when she whispered,
"Charlotte" He felt her sigh against him, "my name is Charlotte"
"Hmm" He smirked, relishing the begruding tone in her voice. Information was easy enough to come by as long as one had the proper leverage, "your actions last night-"
"A mistak" She said in the cold, calculating tones of someone trying to inflict pain, "that you are still breathing is a...what *are* you doing?" She asked as he leaned down slowly,
"I'm not even going to grace that idiotic question with an answer" He whispered before kissing her through the veil as fiercely as he could. The flimsy cloth quickly became damp as she responded almost instantly. There had been a brief moment where she started to struggle against him, when the tendons of her wrist under his hands had shifted, but the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived and she relaxed against him with a soft sigh. He pulled away briefly, catching the fabric of her veil between his teeth and tugging in an attempt to be rid of the thing - his hands otherwise occupied. It didn't come away as he had expected.
In a sharp move she jerked her head up, landing a solid blow on his nose - not enough to break it but enough to make his eyes water and grip loosen. He cried out unintentionally as he was rolled onto his back, feeling a soft brush of the fabric she wore against his forearm before she vanished. All of this happened in a few seconds, Beckett was lieing on his back, pinching the bridge of his nose when the door slammed open and Mercers flickering candle illuminated the room,
"Sir?" There was almost genuine worry in Mercers flat Yorkshire accent. Beckett allowed himself a deep sigh, eyes closed against the stinging tears...fortunately he wasn't bleeding,
"Nothing Mercer...just a dream"
When he woke in the morning, after he had his cabin searched for anything even resembling a trap door, he recieved a letter from the King of England. Its contents offered both condolences on the untimely death of Becketts father as well as congratulations and a date set for the tedious and un-necisary ceremony that would mark the passing of power and turn 'Govoner' Beckett into 'Lord' Beckett...
He woke, on the seventh night, at the first featherlight touch to his wrist. In a lightening fast set of movements that he had rehearsed in his mind, Beckett caught her wrist, pulled her to him and rolled over, effectively pinning her down by finding her other wrist,
"Ah" She said before adding a very polite - "good evening" Beckett allowed himself a small smile,
"Indeed" He pushed a knee between her thighs - only half surprised when they opened willingly - and made himself more comfortable,
"So, now that you've captured me, what is it you plan to do with me?" She asked, an amused lilt to her whisper, as if she were still in control of the situation. He frowned as she shifted her hips (he couldn't tell if she was being seductive or merely getting comfortable) and pressed down with his own to still her,
"Where have you been?" He was going to ask a litany of other questions but she interupted by laughing softly,
"Why? Did you miss me?" She leaned up, the dark veil crumpling against his face, "did you?" For a horror stricken moment Cutler struggled for self control,
"That was not an answer" He stated smoothly, "if you're not in a talkative mood I'm sure Mercer can arrange a nice quiet noose for you somewhere" She sighed, letting her head fall back as if defeated,
"I had one or two other matters of buisness to attend too" Her voice sounded almost sulky but became deadly serious as she continued, "there is more than one assassin on contract for you, Lord Beckett" There was a brief pause before she added in a quick rush of breath, "please be careful about it. I didn't risk my life just to see yours end"
"Mercer can take care of them" He said dismissively, ignoring the fact that she had made it past Mercer more than once, "and actually it's 'Governer' Beckett. I don't become a Lord until my father dies" He corrected, almost absent mindedly,
"I know" She whispered in a girlishly sweet voice, "And Mercer is another name for 'gaurd dog who has learned to walk on two legs rather than four'" She said rather cruelly, "and, like a dog, he's wonderfully loyal, quite dangerous and not very bright...at least *think* about hiring someone else" She drawled,
"Your name?" He asked, changing the subject. He *had* intended to ask the name of her employer but his voice seemed interested in other things, there was no way he was going to correct himself and admit to a mistake. There was silence from beneath him and Beckett felt something like detached disappointment. He opened his mouth to call Mercer when she whispered,
"Charlotte" He felt her sigh against him, "my name is Charlotte"
"Hmm" He smirked, relishing the begruding tone in her voice. Information was easy enough to come by as long as one had the proper leverage, "your actions last night-"
"A mistak" She said in the cold, calculating tones of someone trying to inflict pain, "that you are still breathing is a...what *are* you doing?" She asked as he leaned down slowly,
"I'm not even going to grace that idiotic question with an answer" He whispered before kissing her through the veil as fiercely as he could. The flimsy cloth quickly became damp as she responded almost instantly. There had been a brief moment where she started to struggle against him, when the tendons of her wrist under his hands had shifted, but the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived and she relaxed against him with a soft sigh. He pulled away briefly, catching the fabric of her veil between his teeth and tugging in an attempt to be rid of the thing - his hands otherwise occupied. It didn't come away as he had expected.
In a sharp move she jerked her head up, landing a solid blow on his nose - not enough to break it but enough to make his eyes water and grip loosen. He cried out unintentionally as he was rolled onto his back, feeling a soft brush of the fabric she wore against his forearm before she vanished. All of this happened in a few seconds, Beckett was lieing on his back, pinching the bridge of his nose when the door slammed open and Mercers flickering candle illuminated the room,
"Sir?" There was almost genuine worry in Mercers flat Yorkshire accent. Beckett allowed himself a deep sigh, eyes closed against the stinging tears...fortunately he wasn't bleeding,
"Nothing Mercer...just a dream"
When he woke in the morning, after he had his cabin searched for anything even resembling a trap door, he recieved a letter from the King of England. Its contents offered both condolences on the untimely death of Becketts father as well as congratulations and a date set for the tedious and un-necisary ceremony that would mark the passing of power and turn 'Govoner' Beckett into 'Lord' Beckett...