Another Day in a Life or Two

In Will’s opinion Jack was easy on the eyes at any given moment. If he wasn’t, it was usually because Will was blinded by having his head tucked against Jack’s neck, thigh, hair, arm pit or any other part of the man’s physique, thus preventing him from giving an expert opinion of his appearance if asked.

Right now, by any scale, Jack looked like a memory from times before Technicolour, the effect being so strong that Will was instinctively looking around if there was a cane leaning against the wall somewhere to complete the picture. The effect shattered when Jack opened his mouth and instead of a flurry of subtitles, there was a voice coming out.

“Well? Say something, I promise you won’t hurt my feelings,” Jack leered and walked to the book shelf to get his own birth certificate and his money clip. Folding the paper, he turned to look at Will who still had said nothing. “Good? Bad? Appropriate?”

It wasn’t like Will had never seen Jack in fancy clothes before, he had indeed, but it had been such a long time ago. And this, well, this…

“Appropriate, absolutely…Handsome, refined…Otherworldly, I could say.”

Markedly, Jack had developed a reflex for checking the time by now, so he flicked his eyes towards the clock again before putting the paper and the money into his inside pocket. “Oh, my. Thank you kind sir, you don’t look half that bad yourself.” He moved to the table, took the other blue rose from its box and fastened it to his breast pocket. Stepping gracefully back to Will, he placed his hand on Will’s elbow and gestured towards the door with his other hand and a gentlemanly bow.

“As I recall me saying before ‘gorgeous,’ I believe was the word used. I’d like to take this opportunity to add sublime anddivine to the list of adjectives regarding the matter.” Jack grinned brightly. “Very describing, actually.”

A hand grabbed the door handle but before it was pushed, another hand was put on top of it.

“Will? Are you alright? Are you ready?” Jack was alarmed by the halt. A tiny speck of uncertainty was displayed in Will’s eyes, similar to the panic in them at the café.

Will took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes, I‘m fine. Let’s go.” He pressed their hands to push the door open.

 

 

Sitting in the cab, Will felt safer than the ripple of fear had given him reason to anticipate. Then again, why wouldn’t he feel safe, Jack was right there, his fingers tapping an unheard tune on Will’s knee while he was looking at the life out there in the sunshine through the window.

Will wasn’t looking out. He stared at Jack.

The comfort Will got from Jack’s presence was enough to subdue the annoying feeling of being suffocated, yet something was wrong. Something was devastatingly wrong on a bedrock level, and it was all coming from Jack. It had been inside him when Will had let himself leap forward to feel him and it hadn’t left since. There was a nagging, gnawing feeling in the back of Will’s mind that was deaf to any direct demands of stepping up and identifying itself for an inspection.

Even if Will couldn’t read every emotion, nor did he care to, as he’d learned early on when starting out as the captain of the Dutchman where the usual emotion he encountered was desperation, sometimes, some things were more openly displayed and easier to interpret. He had actually tried to teach himself to ignore the ability, but it came with the job so there really was no escape from it. Will was usually floundering in a pool of pure, raw, harsh emotions that were shot out from people and too fundamental to be shunned away.

Even with Jack who was the master of hiding anything that might be worth hiding, there were still things Will could pick up now and then.

They’d spent centuries together, minus the long months Jack spent on shore every year to arrange his business relations and naturally the times it took for Will to tend to the dead. All in all, it could be said that they knew each other fairly well by now.

Generally Will knew exactly when Jack was planning something. When Jack was in a conniving mood Will could not get to the gist of it even if he tried and, frankly, he didn’t try very often. He liked the surprises. Even if and when Will wasn’t entirely sure why Jack was doing what he was doing and it was driving him half-mad at times, the dedication and pure, untarnished love Will had for Jack and his quirks had always had him hoping that Jack would never stop doing what it was he was doing. Needless to say, the time and the company had affected his thinking too.

When Jack had sold his soul for Will‘s sake, it had burned through Jack, clear as day, written all over him even though it had been in scribbling Will couldn‘t understand. What he did see and understand was the soul loosening, wriggling, preparing to leave if need be.

After that moment Will hadn’t spent a blink of an eye second guessing his feelings towards Jack as the thought of it actually happening, Jack’s very soul leaving, had been an agonizing one and the memory of it still tore Will’s insides when it crossed his mind. Will had never asked or said anything about it as he had a pretty good idea what had happened. He had, however, sworn to never let it happen again as long as he had some say in the matter. That was the main part of the reasons why he’d tried to chase Jack away on the physical level not so many years ago.

 

The dawning thought following a set pattern, assembling from what felt like ants scrambling around to perform a rehearsed designation caused Will’s hands clench into fists.

With all that had passed, was it any wonder that he could see the flailing of Jack’s soul as it started to unjoint on the edges, again, getting ready to leave the human form, again; when it was all happening again?

It wasn’t the thought, but the recognition that killed something in Will

They spent the whole drive in complete silence, Jack tapping the rhythm, Will picking up new tones from every touch.

Will nearly slammed the car door into the side of a passing vehicle in his haste to face Jack. When he got to the sidewalk, he made a fleeting motion to the whole crew of the Dutchman standing in front of the building, shuffling their feet, chatting and smoking. When one of them noticed Will and nudged his crewmate at the presence of their captain, the ones who smoked quickly stumped their cigarettes out and the crew formed two orderly lines in front of the entrance to the building.

The crewmembers nodded, murmured ‘Captain’ and smiled briefly as Will passed them, but soon their faces turned to raised eyebrows and slack jaws expressing confusion as Will walked straight to one of them, not even looking at the rest.



“Mr. Norrington, get inside and tell the people who are waiting that Captain Sparrow and I will be a little late for the occasion. Perhaps an hour. I trust you can handle the delay to not cause further complications.”

Will finally glanced over the rest of the crew, turning on his heels, nodding at each one of them. “The rest of you, it’ll be one hour and I expect you to be back on this spot. As you were gentlemen, ladies.”

The man who had been given direct orders was going to the door. “Oh, and Dennis, give them our apologies.” He watched as the man went inside, and was once again shocked how a simple gesture like a brief nod of acknowledgement could possibly show both of the man’s great grandparents’ features so precisely, and saw a sign that would prove useful in about two minutes. Very well then. There wasn’t a better option in sight; that would have to do.

He whirled around at the soft sound right beside his ear.

“May I inquire as to what the hell is it that your doing, William?”

Without another word, Will grabbed Jack by the hand and dragged him inside and towards the stick figure on the sign. The sound of the entrance door nearly falling off its hinges made Dennis and the clerk he was talking with look up startled, and barely catch a glimpse of something black before it was yanked forward and disappeared into the men’s room.

 

Will pushed Jack further into the small facility which appeared to hold two stalls with their doors hanging open, and two urinals on the opposite wall. Empty. Brilliant, at least he didn’t have to resort to violence. Just yet.

He locked the door and tried the handle before sucking his breath in and flogging Jack with his gaze. “You don’t get to leave.”

Slightly perplexed but with the hair in the back of his neck starting to rise with apprehension, Jack kept his tone casual, mocking, even. “Well, obviously. You just locked the door.”

Will stepped closer. The slight tilt of his head and the lack of emotion on his features made Jack feel a prickle of static. 



“Don’t you even try, Jack. Your soul. You don’t get to leave me.”

Spreading his hands on his sides in a surrendering manner, Jack took a step backwards.

“I told you. I never would, if it was my choice to make.”

“Then whose is it, if not yours?”

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

Jack would have rolled his eyes in acrimony towards Lady Luck, but the chilling and, strangely enough, amused colour of Will’s voice stopped him from doing that.

“Moment of truth, then, huh... Oh, well, had to come some time, only I’d preferred we’d get to this after the ceremony. Even more preferably, after we got back home.”

Tilting his head more to the side, ignoring the obvious chance for a ‘why?‘ Will took another step which caused Jack to back up one.

“Who’s making choices for you these days then, Jack?”

Not amusement. Loathing. The apparent extinction of expressions on Will’s face made it impossible to read the man.

“The gods. Payment. Nothing ever came cheap, eh?” Jack tried smiling. It came forward in a grimace.

Will stopped in the middle of the step he was taking. “And what, pray tell, is it that you’re paying for?”

Pleading for Will to understand without having to explain, Jack brought his hands in front of him as if he was offering something. God, the voice of the man was cold enough to freeze the air around them. “Your wedding gift, Will. Your freedom, to be precise.”

“And what exactly am I to be freed of?”

Will took the step he was in the middle of taking, again forcing Jack to retreat.

Bloody hell, if Jack wouldn’t have known better, he’d take Will for a complete idiot. Wasn’t it obvious? Clearly Jack wasn‘t ready for this kind of interrogation. It happened too fast. Too unexpectedly. “Your duties, of course!”

“That’s the deal then, your soul for my freedom?”

Jack glanced behind himself to determine how many steps he could take before being confined between the tiled wall and seemingly a calm behaving Will. Not good. More talking.

“Well, to be honest, it’s not much of a deal as it is a plan as of yet… But they’ve always been after me soul, so I’d imagine that’s what they’ll be wanting this time around too.”

The face chiselled in stone cracked open to whisper in a voice Jack had never heard before. 

“There will be no deal, Jack. You’re mine.”

The wall was getting too close for comfort so Jack took a step aside, starting to circle Will. Jack blinked to rid the phantasm of a smithy only to have the phantasm switching to one of the deck of a ship. No. The only weapons he had were his words now. None of that reminiscing that had been there all day with the goddamned lump in his throat.

Jack wrung his explanatory-modus on with great effort.

“Now, see, I was hoping you’d say that. Only I was hoping you’d say that a bit later in time, but it’s just as well now.“ He kept taking crossing steps and used his hands to pantomime the abstract conceptions to no avail. “If I happened to do this… exchange at sea, there wouldn’t be two ways about it, my soul would be yours to do with whatever you see best.”

That at least moved something in Will, if the twitch of his eye was any indicator. Dear Lord, how tired they both were.

“But there‘s always the possibility that they, them, gods, by now, can see through that, and demands of my demise at land will come into question.”

 Will joined Jack‘s movement, matching his steps perfectly in time with Jack’s, calculating.

Jack stopped and moved a step ahead, away from straight alignment with Will to avoid his eyes.

“And, you don‘t have much say in that, do you?” He reached to stop Will too. When Will snatched his arm away from his reach, Jack stepped again and stood in his path. He put his hand on Will‘s chest. The static electricity snapping through his fingers on the contact made him flinch. Jack moved Will’s tie aside and started to twist a button on Will’s shirt in an attempt to keep from looking straight into the void that had replaced Will’s usually warm eyes.

“Listen to me Will,” Jack brought his other hand flat under Will’s collarbone. His gut wrenched when he felt the tension of Will’s pectoral muscle under the heel of his palm. “See, if you were to dispute the deal with the gods, claiming my soul belonged to you through marriage, there might be a chance to back out from it. A promise, an oath like I’m about to make, has to weigh something when made to the Captain of the Dutchman, don‘t you agree?” The button was suddenly loose from the shirt and in Jack’s hand.

The visible surge of emotions in Will that were let go from whatever brig they’d been held in until now, made Jack take several steps back before opening his mouth again. Better spill it all out. What choice did he have?



“But, what with them being gods and doing godlike things, it’s a long shot to begin with. They’re on such high horses that the laws of man are rarely applicable for doing anything to quash their powers.” Jack glanced up and saw the brim of his hat. He took it off and placed it next to the wash basin. Would be a shame to break a hat like that. 

“That’s why I’m going to ask for complete nullification. Congenital annihilation, so to speak. ‘S a better choice than being thrown to Hell or what have you.”

Jack walked to one of the stalls, dropped the button into the toilet, flipped the lid of the toiled seat down, sat on it and waited.

 

The clamp that usually held Will’s composure together snapped and shattered, leaving Will to decide which issue he wanted to address first. Watching Jack sit heavily on the toilet seat and rub his face in frustration swept the remains of said composure under the nearest carpet and had Will grabbing a handful of the ruffles of Jack’s shirt.

He lifted the man up, turned and slammed him against the booth’s wall like a rag doll.

Pinning Jack between the wall and his body, burying his fingers into Jack’s shoulder through the layers of fabric, Will forced Jack’s eyes to meet his, pushing Jack’s chin up with the fistful of shirt.

“You…” That was all he could muster. He didn’t know if it was just tears falling down on his face or if perhaps he had passed to the point where people actually wept blood, nor did he care. This simply wasn’t happening. Jack had not just said what he had just said.

The clatter of a trash bin being knocked over provided sound effects for the crumbling of Jack’s resolution in turn. Raking a peeved glance over the hand holding him the best he could, he rolled his eyes in exasperation accompanied by a loathing faint smirk.

“I think I’m getting too old for this.”

Will shook Jack by the shirt, mind inhumed under the haze of his anger overlapping with consuming despair to make Jack understand, given half a chance that anything was ever going to make any sense again. “You think you’re funny, don’t you? Well, I can let you in on a secret, Jack. You’re not.” Will wasn’t talking. He wasn’t discussing. He was stating facts wrapped in torment and Will wanted to throw them all at Jack. To rid himself of them. “You’re despicable, inconsiderate, childish and full of yourself. If this is your idea of a joke, I will find a way to kill you myself and have you known what Turner’s Locker has to offer.”

 

The loud knocking on the bathroom door had no effect what so ever on Will. His current mind-set was similar to that which had usually been reserved for fighting for his or Jack’s life. And that explained it in and of itself. 

“What?” The dry bark echoed from the tiles of the walls.

A muffled female voice penetrated the material in an inquiring manner.

“Is everything alright in there?”

Will more felt than saw the nod Jack gave in agreement. He eased his grip a little and let his fingers relax on Jack’s shoulder.

“Yes. Everything’s just splendid. Go away Anamaria, this is none of your concern.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Jack let out a breath of relief and fell slack against the wall at the sound of steps receding away from the door.

The only words Will found useful were already said. He would say them as many times as would be necessary. “You don’t get to leave. You don’t get to leave me alone.”

Jack tried another approach, though while going there, he knew, blankly, how empty his words were. “You won’t be alone for long, look at yourself!” Jack pointed to the mirror over the wash basin. “Anyone would pay ridiculously large amounts of anything to keep you company.”

Will pulled the collar of the shirt to bring Jack’s face close enough to kiss him. Or to bite his head off. 



“You said forever Jack. From the beginning, it was you who promised forever. You can not back out from that deal.” He let go of his prey when a wave of devastating exhaustion washed over him. He pressed the top of his head against Jack’s shoulder and tried talking sense into the floor. More chance for that than getting through to Jack when he’d got his barriers up. 

“Do you not know what you are to me? I have lost one heart, do you think I can bear to lose another and live?”

Jack felt the organ in question sinking somewhere to the vicinity of his knees, causing them to buckle a little. In its regular place he felt a horrifying contortion of comprehension.

He could not let it show, could not let it affect his own muddled mind right now. It was enough that Will had lost his touch of the fine art of rational thinking, probably at the same time he had wailed his first sounds as a babe, at least that’s what it seemed like to Jack when it came to questions to which the answer could be given with either by heart or reason. Yes, that’s good, hold on to that train of thought. Irritating enough to be used as a lifeline.

There was no way Jack would let his own heart lead the way on this one. Otherwise nothing would ever get accomplished. “Forever’s a long time, mate, you should be careful what you ask for.” The tremble in his voice went unnoticed by both men, as Will didn’t miss a beat before snapping his head up and retorting.

“You honestly think I don’t know that, mate.”

The snarled, carefully pronounced words made Jack’s skin crawl. The fury would have been easy to live with, if it were hot like fury usually tended to be. This fury was cold and it wrapped itself around Jack in the form of Will and the congealed needles of every word scraped open the wounds Jack had carefully cauterized with his own scorching determination. Jack wanted to look away but Will’s eyes had him moored to time itself. Even breathing without permission seemed to be risking it.

Will placed his hands on either side of Jack’s head. If he had to do this, get to the bottom of it, he would not be able to stand on his own. “How many times have you looked into eternity, Jack Sparrow? How about through the eyes of a child, eh, mate? How many souls, remarkably similar to your own, have you carried to the awaiting Forever?”

He had to lean his elbows on Jack’s shoulders for balance. “You think it‘s the people I fear.”

Will paused to examine Jack’s face and noticed him worrying his lower lip between his teeth nervously. “You‘re wrong. I’m not afraid of people, Jack. It‘s the fear itself, reeking out of everyone, everywhere!”

The sudden lap of tenderness at the sight of Jack looking so lost and vulnerable made Will brush his thumb over Jack’s lip before he gnawed a hole in it. Will had gotten through the barrier around Jack, yet Will didn’t feel like congratulating himself. The flame inside Jack was still fluttering.

No, it wasn’t fair. But neither was it fair for Jack to try and keep this all to himself. Will smiled dryly when he pressed his forehead against Jack’s. Maybe using his own disarming manners at him ten fold would help to make a sharp enough point. “You’re the only one without that fear. You are my Fountain of Youth, from whom I can drink the joy of living and delight in your flow of glee. I’d not be a shadow without you Jack Sparrow, I’d be darkness, inside and out.”

He let the feelings from Jack squirm around in his mind for a moment before moving away from him. It felt like Jack had understood. Even better than Will had hoped, as Jack’s soul had stopped fluttering and was anchoring back to its matrix as Will was watching.

Warmth spread to Will’s limbs when it was properly fastened again, making Will smile gently, his voice the total opposite of the snarl from before.

“You’re not going to sell your soul. You understand it now, don’t you?”

Jack’s knees buckled. There was nothing little about it this time. There were horrors he had never even begun to imagine and Will had seen them all. If the ground would have been kind enough to open and swallow Jack, he would have considered it a blessing. Shame, even the most undignified shame did nothing to cover even a tiny corner of the regret Jack felt. How blind can one man be, for surely, to accomplish this kind of blindness, Jack should have had ten pairs of eyes.

“I-I…didn’t know.”

Will grabbed Jack from under his arms as he started to slide down against the wall. 

“I never told you.” He steered the limp form to sit on the toilet seat. “It was my burden to bear. I had no right to show you, I’m sorry Jack, please forgive me, I didn‘t know what else to do.” Jack’s glazed stare made Will’s fingers tingle unpleasantly. Maybe he should have tried projecting his ability with something less powerful.

Flabbergasted, brow risen to heights never reached before, Jack focused his eyes on Will who was crouched in front of him.

“Forgive you? What? Will, how are you ever going to be able to forgive me?”

Will took Jack’s hands between his own and charily opened a valve on his newly discovered quality, and let a miniature rivulet of himself run into Jack.

Jack’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes. He was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat and the sound of his blood as it was rushing in his veins and roaring in his ears. He smiled blissfully when he opened his eyes again.

“Oh, that’s how.”

The blissfulness went back and forth between the men replacing most of the morbid images in their brain. It made Will feel light headed and grin cheerily from the sudden change. That, and the understanding that this was not the time or the place for the irremissible conversation hanging over their heads. Right now all they could do was hide from it.

“Yes, that’s how. Besides I’d rather not turn into something terribly evil. I don’t really have the face for tentacles.”

Jack snorted and along with the tight knot in his chest unravelling at the infectuous sound of Will snickering, it became a chuckle. Watching Will’s shoulders loose their angularity when the fretfulness faded, Jack felt steady enough to stand up again. The only problem now was the fact that he didn’t want to.

Sitting here, having Will hold his hands was suddenly the essence of life and he didn’t want it to end. There were too many things to be said in the moment and not one was willing to form into words.

 

Finally, Will broke the stance by standing up, letting go of Jack’s hands and walking out of the stall to the wash basin. Jack made a whimpering sound.

“Jack, are you alright?” It was Will’s turn to be alarmed.

Jack stood up and followed Will. 

“I am, yes, I just got lost in my thoughts there for a second.”

Will looked suspicious. “Are you certain?”

Jack’s eyes flashed wickedly and Will barely had time to notice him stalking the distance between them before it was Will himself pressed to a wall in turn.

“Care to repeat that?”

“I said, ‘Are you certain?’”

Jack laughed joyfully. “Am I certain? Am I certain? I’ve spent the past ten years convincing myself that what I really want is to vanquish my desire for life for the sake of you being able to live, freely, and here I’m given a brain-full of brand new reasons to live for, most of them having to do with you, mind, and you ask if I’m certain if I‘m alright?”

He plastered himself over Will, crunching the flowers on their coats between them, pushing his hands behind Will’s back and under the hem of Will’s tuxedo. Jack murmured into Will’s hair.

“Will, luv, if there’s anything I am certain of, it’s that I’m going to show you just how certain I am, not to mention how alright I am. Unfortunately, it certainly can’t be pounded in you here if I want to ascertain that you have no uncertainties about me being certain about anything ever again. In the mean time, I really, really need to feel you.”

Hands snaked further under Will’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, freeing his arms, and tossed it on top of the hat on the table while Jack kissed him fiercely alighting the warmth Will felt to new heights. Jack turned Will’s head with his forehead enough to have access to sucking his throat while he was working on the fastenings of Will’s trousers and lowering his underwear. When he finally reached out to palm Will’s cock, the heat of a fully hard cock against his skin was the most fabulous thing he’d ever felt. Such heat after the cold, it was invigorating.

Jack inhaled sharply while pressing his nose against Will’s neck and was momentarily dizzied by the smell of him combined with the feeling on his hand. It was all Will. He tucked his other hand under Will’s shirt to have it pressed between Will’s shoulder blade and the wall. How magnificent it was to be touching that skin.

Will was definitely on the same wavelength. His hands were trying to grab everything at once, anything to quench the frantic need to make sure Jack was there and was not going to vanish. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist to find the clasp of the sash and after crooking it open, he threw it unceremoniously on the floor. After managing that and the button and the zipper and the whole procedure for having one’s lovers prick in one’s hand, Will pulled Jack closer by his waist. He knew what Jack was talking about with the need to feel.

It was the first time in a hundred years when Will’s hand stroking Jack a few times was even nearly enough to have him spill his seed, but he was so very close, and when Jack’s turgid flesh met the smooth, hot skin of Will’s cock, Jack’s hand being moved to a better angle for Will’s sake and finally their hands wrapped around both their lengths, Jack pushed into their fists hard once and his hair-trigger went off.

He sucked the skin of Will’s neck between his teeth out of the pure need of doing that, rather than having any real impulse to muffle the keening sob that built deep in his chest and was let out raggedly. He honestly had no idea if he was actually crying, but if he was, it was out of the bare, naked love he felt for Will. When he could stop the sobs, he really, really needed to tell Will that.

He breathed Will’s scent in again, saddened and overjoyed at the same time at the thought that he may never get enough of him, would always be greedy for more of him, he dragged his nose along Will’s jaw line to his ear to share an important point of fact.

“I love you Will.”

Jack sank down on one knee, pushed Will’s hand out of the way and engulfed Will’s cock as deep as he could, swallowing, so the muscles in the back of his throat massaged the head, pressing his fingers unto the soft expanse between Will’s bollocks and arsehole, moving his thumb between the sacks gently and was rewarded with a hand grasping his hair tightly. When he felt the telltale jerk and the final blood rush tightening the already taut skin against his tongue, he pulled back a bit so as not to choke when Will came grunting in time with the pulse of his release.

 

Jack looked up at Will after letting Will’s seed slide down his throat and licking his lip, still not releasing the spent cock in his hand.

“Will you still marry me?”

Will panted a few breaths, closed his eyes, swallowed, turned his head to look down to Jack and flung his eyes open.

“Infinitely.”

A very familiar grin spread across Jack’s face, lighting his eyes with a gleam that, for a moment there, had been threatening to have been lost, perhaps forever.

“Then we’d better do something about this mess we’ve made.” Jack looked pointedly at the irregular splatter of his sperm on Will’s shirt.

 

Two rather dishevelled-looking men emerged from the men’s room, the one clad in white strolling over to the counter with a bright smile on his face and his right hand held out for a shake and a greeting, the other man, donned in black just in his wake, brow in a deep concentrated frown, a tall hat askew on his head held in place by sheer coincidence, a tail of his coat in one hand, the other stroking it as if to smooth wrinkles from it, and something, what appeared to be a cummerbund, casually thrown over his shoulder.

A closer inspection revealed large damp spots with tiny white fluffs of something that had to be from wet toilet paper on the white-clad man’s red shirt, and it was missing a button.

It seemed that the pair had had blue roses attached to their coats at some point, but now it was two pins with scrunched petals hanging from them.

The clerk of the Municipal Registry Court shook the offered hand and Will mentally sighed in relief for the hand being firm and warm.

“Good day, ma’am, I’m William Turner, nice to make your acquaintance. I take it you are to perform the ceremony for our marriage.”

After the greeting, the man wrapped his arm around the second man’s waist and made a silent surprised ‘Oh!’ when noticing the girdle on his shoulders.

The clerk shook the other hand that now reached out for a shake with a pleasant smile, apparently not at all disturbed by Mr. Turner plucking the sash and manoeuvring it under his coat and around him. 



“Jack Sparrow. You might remember me stopping by this morning. We‘re terribly sorry for the delay, and hope it hasn‘t been too much of an inconvenience for you or to anybody else it may pertain. Terribly, terribly sorry indeed.”

For some reason the man didn’t look like he was apologetic in the slightest.