Sparrs Els Elf

Sparrow's Elf
By Nix Winter

Disclaimers: I don't own Jack Sparrow, or the Black Pearl.

Warnings: I've started this story in this fandom, but I might finish it original. I've got a couple days off.. I'm gonna try to finish it like right away.

One

Tortuga, the year didn't matter. Heat slowed the air, made the trickle of sweat tickling its way from Jack's hair, across his temple, down his cheek, the heat made it take forever. It wasn't fair that the rest of him should be wet with sweat, a sun marinated sparrow, when his mouth was dry as sun bleached sail cloth. The tickle of sweat inched towards his jaw and his head expanded and snapped back into form, and then he understood the dry mouth. "I guess that means I've finished," he said, to no one in particular.

One eye opened enough to let the offending Caribbean sun tangle with the hangover blowing off cannons inside his skull. The other eye opened rapidly after. Dark velvet draped over the polished dark posters of the bed he lay on, hung half closed on the sides like a lush confessional curtain. To the left doors opened onto a breezeless balcony, pretty glass doors that sparkled in the heat. Jack closed his eyes, smoothed finger and thumb over his eyebrows.

A look in the other direction made him forget about the dry mouth. Green eyes watched him, greener eyes than any emerald he'd ever stolen. Jack sat up, unaware that the khol rode sweat down his face, making him look like he had black tears, until the blond reached out slender fingers to touch his cheek. He rebounded from the touch and the bed, staggering back after not quite tripping in the blue velvet curtains, one hand in loose brown hair, the other touching his face to find where the black on the blond's fingers had come from. "Bloody fucking hell! I'll have you not to be touching without an invitation," Jack said, smoothing his hair down, checking himself over to make sure that he had all his belongings and his boots in the right place.

The blond continued to watch him, now sitting as well, ungodly long blond hair pilling, then dangling from shoulders that probably hadn't ever gotten familiar with swinging a sword. He wore a shirt of the palest blue, fastened in the front by elaborate knots. A high collar covered his throat, formed to his jaw like a glove. When he moved, pulling fine gold hair from his face, he revealed a gold earring that clung to the edge of his ear, curling around it like lace and dangling below it with enough jewels caught in the delicate lace to pay for food and drink for the whole crew for a month.

Jack's mouth was no longer dry. He rolled his shoulders, adding up the value of the earring, and the easiest way to get it off that ear. "Stunning earring you have there," he said, leaning forward, tongue running over the edge of his teeth as he thought about it. "I'm Capt. Jack Sparrow, but then I expect we've meet. I'm just having the tiniest bit of trouble remembering, so if you could just tell me your name again?"

The blond smiled, reached out and ran uncalloused fingers along the line of Jack's hair, caressing his forehead. Without any warning, the hangover evaporated, pain, nausea, dry mouth, gone. In its place, a warm glow of contentment breathed into him. He blinked. Of all the hangovers he'd had, including one he nearly got hanged during, not one had ever just stopped trying to kill him. "Now that was right near unusual," he said, searching the green eyes that watched him unguardedly. "How'd you do that?"

"Oh good Lord, God in Heaven!" Said a shrill female voice, followed by the slamming of doors, and a bolt being thrown. "What are you still doing here, you idiot ass!"

Jack was deeply grateful the hangover had left him early. He straighted and twitched his nose at the woman. It wasn't as if he'd woken up next to her a time or two, usually with a hang over, and he could never understood why, or sometimes even how much he'd paid for the privilege. "Good morning to you too, Mistress May."

She pressed her palm to her forehead, eyes narrow as she glared at Jack. Recipe for Sparrow was defiantly on her mind, he thought. He held up both hands, backing towards the balcony. "I don't owe you any money."

The blond smiled at her, held out his hand. She grabbed it and jerked him from the bed in a way that made him stumble. His nose wrinkled, a small sound at the back of his throat was his only vocal protest though.

"There's no need to be rough with him! He's harmless, can't you see?"

She was busy shoving his boots, mid calf high and made of white leather into his hands. "He's not harmless. Make that mistake and you'll die, Jack Sparrow! You should have had him out of here before sunrise! I knew I couldn'te yoe you at your word! I bet you don't even remember!"

He lifted his chin, wanting to protest, but the last thing he remembered was leaving the Pearl, that afternoon? The day before?

"Oh Jack!" She scolded, shoving a packed bag into the arms of the blond, who was bouncing on one foot as he got his second boot on. "We have a bargain. 1000 gold to get Erin out of Tortuga and back to Ireland! He doesn't belong here!"

She came around the other side of the tall slender blond and grabbed up a bunch of hair, pulling it back from that earring, up high, revealing a tall slender pointed ear. "The governor is trying to sell him to a ship from the East. That's why you're going to steal him, Jack."

"That's a lot of trouble for 1000 gold!" Jack said, thinking about how not on the Governor's good list he already was. "Maybe he'll like the East."

The blond looked from May to Jack, then back, smiled like he didn't understand a word they were saying. He tilted his head, shaking his hair back down to cover his ear and winked at Jack. Jack rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling, as if the eyeliner running down his face could let him look innocent.

There was a furtive scratching at the door and an hysterical, "They're here!"

May tilted her head, smirked. "Had the money sent to the Pearl, Jack."

Jack held up one hand, fingers poised. "Now if you think…"

"Help," May screamed at the top of her lungs, as she picked up a chair and smashed it against the wall. "He's stealing the slave! Help!"

Curses battered the inside of his mouth the way the hang over had had his head. He caught the arm of the blond escaping slave and dragged him out onto the balcony. "You do know how to run, don't you?"