It's My Life
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
2,401
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
2,401
Reviews:
8
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.
Chapter 7
“It hurts.”
“Drink some more.” Anna took another swig of rum, and made a face.
“It still hurts.”
“Drink some more.” Jack was highly amused. Having gotten Anna drunk enough to agree to getting tattooed in the first place, and then getting her tattooed, and now dealing with the aftermath of it, was becoming quite the enjoyable excursion. He had never seen her drunk before, and thought he liked her that way. She took things too seriously when she was sober. And she was now the owner of a beautiful sea serpent tattoo all over her back, which made her scars less glaringly awful. Maybe now she would stop being so conscious of them. Two years with him and she was still shy, sometimes. Not now, though. Now she was staring across the table at him like a green-eyed tiger, and he was suddenly aware that she was planning something.
“All right, you got me drunk, and you got me tattooed, so what now? Get me married?”
“It’s a thought, but not in the state you’re in. If you’re going to get married, you ought to do it sober.”
“Oh, so that’s why you never married anybody? Or is it backward, and you stay drunk to keep from getting married?”
“Well…honestly, I never thought about it.”
“Honestly is quite the word coming from you, Jack.” Anna wasn’t quite utterly drunk, but was drunk enough to stop thinking so hard about whether she was being tactful or not. “Have you ever been honest about anything in your entire career?”
“Well, yes; love for the Pearl, I was honest about.”
“Oh, right, how could I have forgotten that? Your Pearl, your freedom, your whole bloody life. It must be nice to wake up every morning loving where and who you are.”
“Don’t you?”
“Hell, Jack, do I look like I love who I am? I’m horrible, that’s what. My back is a mess and my hips are too big and my entire existence is arranged for the sake of making other people happy. I’m bloody miserable, damn it! I’m trapped. This bloody tavern might as well be a jail cell.”
“So is it adventure you want, then?”
“I don’t know what I want. I want something different. I want a reason to get out of bed in the morning that doesn’t involve taking delivery of rum. Even better, I want a reason not to get out of bed in the morning. Preferably a reason who doesn’t snore and knows what soap is for.”
“Oh, so that’s it. Is there anything left in that tankard?”
“Not much.” Anna peered into the bottom, swished it around, and drank what was left. “Not any more.” Jack took the tankard out of her hand, refilled it, emptied about half of it in one swallow, and refilled it again.
“How’s your back?”
“It doesn’t hurt any more.”
“Good. Come here.” Jack snaked an arm around her waist and handed her the tankard. “Now don’t spill that, luv.”
“That’s easy; the hole’s in the top of – eek!” Jack had swept Anna off her feet and was carrying her off toward her room.
“Are we going where I think we’re going?”
“The question isn’t where, it’s why. And the answer, me being a pirate, is probably.”
“Oh, good. I’ve never been drunk and taken advantage of before. It’ll be a new adventure.”
“Drink some more.” Anna took another swig of rum, and made a face.
“It still hurts.”
“Drink some more.” Jack was highly amused. Having gotten Anna drunk enough to agree to getting tattooed in the first place, and then getting her tattooed, and now dealing with the aftermath of it, was becoming quite the enjoyable excursion. He had never seen her drunk before, and thought he liked her that way. She took things too seriously when she was sober. And she was now the owner of a beautiful sea serpent tattoo all over her back, which made her scars less glaringly awful. Maybe now she would stop being so conscious of them. Two years with him and she was still shy, sometimes. Not now, though. Now she was staring across the table at him like a green-eyed tiger, and he was suddenly aware that she was planning something.
“All right, you got me drunk, and you got me tattooed, so what now? Get me married?”
“It’s a thought, but not in the state you’re in. If you’re going to get married, you ought to do it sober.”
“Oh, so that’s why you never married anybody? Or is it backward, and you stay drunk to keep from getting married?”
“Well…honestly, I never thought about it.”
“Honestly is quite the word coming from you, Jack.” Anna wasn’t quite utterly drunk, but was drunk enough to stop thinking so hard about whether she was being tactful or not. “Have you ever been honest about anything in your entire career?”
“Well, yes; love for the Pearl, I was honest about.”
“Oh, right, how could I have forgotten that? Your Pearl, your freedom, your whole bloody life. It must be nice to wake up every morning loving where and who you are.”
“Don’t you?”
“Hell, Jack, do I look like I love who I am? I’m horrible, that’s what. My back is a mess and my hips are too big and my entire existence is arranged for the sake of making other people happy. I’m bloody miserable, damn it! I’m trapped. This bloody tavern might as well be a jail cell.”
“So is it adventure you want, then?”
“I don’t know what I want. I want something different. I want a reason to get out of bed in the morning that doesn’t involve taking delivery of rum. Even better, I want a reason not to get out of bed in the morning. Preferably a reason who doesn’t snore and knows what soap is for.”
“Oh, so that’s it. Is there anything left in that tankard?”
“Not much.” Anna peered into the bottom, swished it around, and drank what was left. “Not any more.” Jack took the tankard out of her hand, refilled it, emptied about half of it in one swallow, and refilled it again.
“How’s your back?”
“It doesn’t hurt any more.”
“Good. Come here.” Jack snaked an arm around her waist and handed her the tankard. “Now don’t spill that, luv.”
“That’s easy; the hole’s in the top of – eek!” Jack had swept Anna off her feet and was carrying her off toward her room.
“Are we going where I think we’re going?”
“The question isn’t where, it’s why. And the answer, me being a pirate, is probably.”
“Oh, good. I’ve never been drunk and taken advantage of before. It’ll be a new adventure.”