Murphy's Law

Title: Murphy's Law
Author: Ima Pseudonym
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: ..R/NC17
Disclaimer: Belongs to Disney. I'm not making any money off of it...
Warning: A series of unfortunate events.
Dedicated: To Tara, since I wrote it on her B-day.
Notes: Feedback would be appreciated. Even flames. I decided to finally post something on AFF and as this did fairly well on LJ, it won the toss up.


This really has to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever gotten myself involved in. For the second time this month, I’m leaving Port Royal. On ‘Official Navy Business’.. Ha! Could you imagine the faces of my officers, and the citizens here, if I stated my true reasons. “Oh, yes, well, I’ll be gone for a few days. I’m going across Jamaica to meet with my pirate lover. What’s that, Gillette? Oh, well.. not quite a lover. We’ve had a few brief but passionate times where we’d kiss, and grope inelegantly behind one of the taverns.. but no clothing was lost in the process. Why do I go, Mrs. Whittaker? Well, because I enjoy the company of the pirate who humiliated me on countless occasions, just last year… Now Lieutenant Groves, really… He’s not trying to trick me. His only intentions are to board me and scuttle me senseless.. Told me so, himself. Well, I’d hate to keep him waiting. Especially as we’ll have ample time, on this occasion for him to do just that. I’ll be back in 3 or 4 days.”

“Commodore?” I nearly jump out of my skin, and straight through the ceiling. Robert Murtogg is standing in front of me, frowning in confusion. I didn’t just say all of that aloud did I? No, thank god. I straighten my cravat. “Yes Mr. Murtogg?” “Lieutenant Gillette sent me along to deliver these to you… He glanced down at the traveling coat slung over one of my arms. “Uh.. You’re leaving this moment sir?” I frowned. Had Gillette already gone home for the evening? Chewing on my bottom lip, I took the stack of papers. “No, these need to be taken care of, now. Please, go down and tell my driver to come back in an hour.” “Yes sir..” I flipped through the papers, once, and stopped him as he started to disappear out the door. “Better make that two hours.”

Two and a half hours later, I finished, and stepped out into the black Caribbean night. The horse, shifted impatiently, and the driver gave me as sour a look as he dared, before holding the door to the carriage open for me. I stepped in, and leaned back with a heavy sigh. Not long after, I was sound asleep.

When I woke up we’d arrived in the small town Jack and I chose to stay at. It was seldom used by anyone from Port Royal, unless they were stopping for the night, on their way elsewhere, so there was very little chance of my being recognized..

“Commodore Norrington!” a shrill voice sounded behind me, as I bid farewell to the coachman. Turning I saw the infamous Widow Perry, and her skeletal daughter, Louisa. The mother gave me a frightening smile, destroyed by love of chewing raw sugar cane, and her daughter did likewise, showing lovely white teeth, in a face drawn tight over every bone. Suppressing a shudder, I nodded in acknowledgement of their existence. “We were just on our way back to Port Royal from my lovely brother Samuel’s plantation! Louisa, here, was just commenting on how she missed being home. Her beaus were simply devastated when she left.” I found it hard to believe that this lanky child had any suitor but death, but I smiled, none the less, and nodded, praying for a gun fight, or to be struck by lighting… Any distraction, really.

Louisa cast half-interested looks my direction, before going back to arranging the white lace cuffs of her dress, around her wrists. Once or twice she would pose what she thought a witty question to me, which I would answer monosyllabically. Finally, with one last angry look towards me, she turned to her mother. “Mama, we best be leaving.. This evening air doesn’t agree with me.” Their carriage had pulled up some minutes before. The widow said her reluctant farewells to me, and they were gone, at last.

I heaved a sigh of relief, which I heard echoed behind me. “Thought they’d never leave.” “Jack..” I turned, and the pirate, emerged from the shadows, swaggering up to me, and pulling me along behind him towards the cheapest of the towns three Inns. “Too late for dinner, but I’ve rented us out a room, and there’s a few bottles of rum up there.” “How romantic..” I muttered, before I slapped my palm to my forehead. “Oh! My bags! I forgot my things!” with the distractions of the paperwork, I’d left my luggage at Fort Charles.

Jack laughed, and some tension left my shoulders at the sound. “Don’t worry… You won’t be having occasion to change your clothes too much… Take them off, p’raps.” I quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. This was ‘not’ going as planned. The owner of the Inn showed up at the door in a nightgown, with a glower on his face, and it took a while for him to remember that he had rented Jack a room.

It was a dirty, decrepit establishment. The downstairs was an unappealing tavern, and what looked to be the owner’s rooms. The upstairs was 4 tiny bedrooms. One had a fireplace.. that wasn’t ours. In fact, I was thankful our room had a window, small and grimy as it was. There was a bed against the wall that could hold two.. providing they both slept on their side, and in one corner was a cracked water basin and pitcher… on the floor, as it appeared the stand was broken. A wicker chair was by the door, currently being used to hold a thick candle that produced more smoke than light… Which was just as well, because I didn’t really want to see the wall.

Of course, none of this is taking into consideration the smell… Which seemed to be coming from.. you guessed it, the bed. “Jack.. how often are these sheets washed?” “Does it really matter, love?” he mumbled. Well yes, it did.. but it was hard to state that, when he was nibbling on my ear so nicely. “I hate this bloody wig..” he said, staring at the woolen headpiece, and reached up to pull it off. “No Jack. Wai- OW!” the pins holding it to my head, were stuck, and he gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry James! Hold on I think I-“ “Ah! Jack!” “Sorry love… just.. Maybe if I, push first, then-“ “Oh! That hurts!” I tried to pull my abused head away from his quick fingers.

Suddenly, there was a pounding against the wall. “We don’t want to hear that, you dirty sodomites!” A long drawn out silence ensued. “Uh.. here, let me.. It’s a bit tricky.” I removed it, easily, with long-practiced familiarity, and rubbed at my scalp. And then Jack’s lips were crushed against my own.. and I think I bit my lip.. or he did.. but now that hurts, too. Lucky I didn’t lose any teeth on that one. But Jack seems obliviously happy, so I kiss him back. All the while he guides me backwards, towards the bed, and stops. With a playful grin, he gives me a shove… Intending me to fall onto the mattress.. but, of course, I miss. *THUD* “Oh God! James, I’m so sorry- I meant to- oh… I’m sorry!” he helps me up, and I rub my aching backside. “No, I’m fine really.”

I went and sat on the bed, carefully, half-expecting it to collapse through the floor to the first story. It only creaks slightly. A few seconds later, he’s on it as well, and we’re laughing breathlessly, at the bad luck we’ve been having, while trying to undo the foreign buttons of each other’s clothing. He manages to pop off two of my brass buttons, and a bead in his hair, gets hopelessly entangled with his shirt. Finally, we’re down to our skins, and wrapped around each other, kissing with a sloppy, graceless, flurry.

He turns me over, so I’m facing the wall, with my back to him, and I feel him lay out behind me, his erection pressed against the bottom of my back. “You brought the oil, right, love?” He coos, marring my neck and shoulder with love bites that I recall, distinctly, saying I hated. “Oh… blast..” A moments pause. “You did, didn’t you?” “It’s with my bags… in my office..” I just recalled that it held the oil I was supposed to bring, as well as extra money, so I could cover some of our rendezvous’ expenses. It also had some risqué letters Jack had written me, describing scenarios he’d like to play out. I only prayed that my men weren’t nosy. For their sake more than mine.

“B-but.. James.. We can’t …. You know, without some sort of lubrication?” “Couldn’t you go buy some?” “Even if they sold oil here, there wouldn’t be a shop open at this hour…” and his voice changed to a whine. “I wanted to bugger you!” …Something.. what ‘might’ have been relief, flooded me. “It will have to wait. No reason we can’t still enjoy the night, though..” The sound of a bed frame hitting the wall opposite us, interrupted that statement. We stared at said wall, shocked, until the noise repeated, and got faster, and much more reckless.

“Uh… Right, well.. Here.. lay on your back.” I instructed, and shifted so he could do so, with me between his legs. He stared down at me, staring down at him.. And, warily, I set myself to the task before me. I had never, in my entire life, done this before. And I’d only had it done once to myself. It tasted terrible! Horrible, like.. well, I couldn’t begin to describe it.. save that it was bitter, and it left a bitter trail all the way down my throat. But Jack was moaning, clearly enjoying it, so I tolerated. “James- I’m gonna- oh..” he mumbled, and I pulled away, unwilling to have ‘that’ fill my mouth, as well. Unfortunately I didn’t pull back far enough, and when he came.. well… “Oh! It’s in my eye! Jack! Gods, it’s in my eye!” I waved my arms frantically, while I tried to wipe the essence from my face. Jack sat up, flushed and bemused, and tried to hold me still, and brush it off. He only succeeded in poking my good eye with his pinky.

Finally, I thought to go over to the basin, and pour out some water to rinse my face. There wasn’t a lot in the pitcher, and I couldn’t see if it was really clean, but I did feel better, for having washed Jack’s seed from me. I climbed back onto the bed, and lay down, face to the wall. Jack was silent for a moment, before touching my back lightly. “James… Are you alright?” “As much as can be expected..” I groused, and with a resigned sigh, he lay down with his front to me, and draped an arm over my torso… I have to admit, that ‘did’ feel pleasant. And soon I fell asleep.

“James… James.. Wake up, love.” “Mmmm” I murmured, rolling over. There was a loud crash, and I sat upright, staring, blearily down at the floor. Jack had fallen off the bed when I turned, and now he was getting up, grumbling under his breath. “Are you alright?” I tried to ask him, but it was hard to distinguish what I was saying, through my laughing. He just glared. “Let’s go get breakfast, hmm? My treat.” It didn’t bear to mention that it would have to be his treat, as I had no money. So I nodded, and stood, putting on my shirt and vest, breeches, stockings, and shoes. I left my coat and wig in the room. No point in drawing ‘too’ much attention to myself.

So Jack and I went downstairs. A weathered looking man, and a higher-class woman stared over at us with disdainful expressions. Ah.. so they were our neighbors last night. Jack caught onto that, too, and we decided to eat elsewhere. Stale bread, unnamable meat, and watery ale sufficed us, and we went into the town to look for bath oils, or.. any oil. Whether for keeping a musket in good condition, or perfuming a rich plantation owner, didn’t matter. The first shop we checked had nothing useful. The same went with the second and third. By noon, we were getting frantic.. Or Jack was. He kept falling behind, to stare longingly at my arse. Which was most discomfiting.

Finally, short of breaking into private homes, we’d checked every available place for oil, and found none. We returned to our Inn. The man and his.. lady friend weren’t there, which was a relief, and we sank into the uncomfortable chairs before an un-wiped table. “Jack…” I broke the silence, and his period of sulking. “Is there nothing that can be used, instead?” He thought a long moment, and then a bright look came over his face. “Grease!” he said, excitedly. “Grease?” I echoed, not nearly so excited. “We can use grease, I’ll go ask the owner.”

But there was no need because he’d just wandered over, to see if we wanted anything to drink. “Have you got any grease left over from yer cooking?” Jack asked, and the man gave us an odd look. I tried to elbow Jack to get his attention, and make him stop, but he continued on, blissfully ignorant. “You see, me and James here..” and he looped his arm around my shoulders. “Have been having the most hellish tryst.. And in order to make it better, we need something slick to.. you know..” It would almost have been like a parent explaining a fairy tale to a child, except Jack accompanied it with a lewd gesture, of his poking his index finger through the hole he made with his other index finger, and thumb.

And that’s how we ended up running down the street, with the man reloading his pistol just behind us. Fortunately, he gave up, not long after, and we kept going, until we’d cleared the town, and kept walking down a well-worn road, towards the ocean. “When do you think we can go back?” I asked finally, sunburned and very aggravated. “Go back? Are you insane?” he asked, waving his arms around, for emphasize. “The Pearl’s docked not but a days’ walk from here. We can spend the rest of the time in my cabin. I’ve got plenty of oil.” “Jack… Now, recall, if you will… that I’m Commodore James Norrington… Pirate hunter. Pirates tend to ‘not’ be all to pleased when I’m on their ship.” “Well, it’s ‘my’ ship, and nothing would please me more, than to have my wicked way with you aboard her.”

The argument went on for quite some time, before, inexplicably, he convinced me. And then we walked in silence, broken only to tell him crushed leaves would ‘not’ make a good lubricant, and that I wouldn’t consider doing that sort of thing on the roadside, anyway. Finally, as the sun was sinking down to the horizon, the Pearl came into view, black sails fluttering poetically. I was carrying my shoes now, because it hurt more to walk in them, than without them.

When the crew spotted us, they waved cheerfully to their captain, and stared dumbly at me. It occurred, that I had left my coat and wig, in the town (and would probably never see them again), so they wouldn’t recognize me.. Not right away, at any rate. They sent a rowboat to the shore, to pick us up, and the rower stared at me, with a slight frown on his face. A frown of vague recognition. “Were yer trip productive, then, Cap’n?” he asked, showing a mouth of blackened teeth, adding to his ugliness. “Not quite, Blue.. But I brought back the reason, anyway.” Jack gave me a fond look, which ‘Blue’ had trouble translating. “A new crew member, Cap’n?” “More like a temporary Cabin boy- OW!” Yes, I stomped his foot, good and bloody hard. It might have been more effective, if I'd had my shoes on, but it got the point across.

We climbed onto the Pearl, and Jack addressed his crew. They paid little attention to his words, in favor of staring at me. Suddenly, one pointed an accusing finger at me. “Gods, lads! It’s C-“ A shot from Jack’s pistol interrupted him, and Jack pulled a fresh gun from his sash, aiming it at the man. “You were saying?” “C-c-c? ..Colleen’s brother, Buford.” All eyes were on the man now. “Hadn’t seen the lad in years.. excuse me.” And he slunk away, to go hide in the hold. “As I was saying, gents… To open sea, and then Port Royal.. Don’t bother me for three days.” With that he turned, away. “J- … Buford. I need to see you in my bed-CABIN- right away to discuss… the terms of your… whatever. Get in there.”

I went into the surprisingly bare room, and had to fend off Jack’s passionate assaults for just a moment, in order to place my shoes somewhere that I wouldn’t forget them. Then we were at it, as inelegantly as at the Inn.. with more things to break, though. Two bottles of rum smashed to the ground, and Jack trod on my foot, causing me to yelp. His first mate, Gibbs, knocked on the door at one point, asking if everything was alright, but Jack just laughed, and told him to bugger off.

Now, when Jack said he had plenty of oil… he meant it. The Pearl had recently robbed a merchant ship carrying 2 tons of.. you guessed it… oil. For a few minutes I ranted at him, good and strong, for not just bringing some of this with him, but he pointed out that I did say I’d have some with me. We were soon sans every stitch of clothing, and stumbling towards a door at the back of the great cabin. Jack’s bedroom. Which.. did not have a bed. But a hammock. “Jack? Is that gonna be strong enough?” He smiled, and shrugged and led me over to it. I got in first, and moved to the side as far as I could, without tipping it, as Jack climbed in. The iron rings, holding it to the ceiling groaned ominously, and Jack moved to sit on my thighs, uncomfortably. Around that time, there was a loud snap, and we rolled to the floor, the bottom of the hammock having given out.

Now normal people would have given up right then. Not just at sex for the moment, but altogether. Clearly, some higher power did ‘not’ want us together… But Jack was hardly going to take the hint from some disembodied spirit. He dragged us back to the cabin, and proceeded to manhandle me onto the heavy oak table, in it. “Jack you can not be serious!” “Come on, love, it’s an adventure.” Humph… So he grabbed one of the many bottles and poured an unnecessary amount of oil into his hands, first lavishing his erection, and then preparing me, in a ‘MOST’ uncomfortable, messy, unpleasant way. Should anyone come near us with an open flame, right now… I shudder to think.

“Jack, I’m not to sure about this..” I muttered. Oil, dripped from my backside down onto the table, slippery beneath my skin. “Relax, James.. I know you’ll love it.” Somewhere above us, there was a shouted ‘raise anchor’, and just as Jack was beginning to arrange himself to push into me, the ship jolted, with its new freedom. As it listed just slightly, to the side, I slid off the table, impossibly slick from oil, and took Jack with me, all the way to the hard cold floor. I slid a bit more, until the wall stopped my progress. Jack sat up, cupping his eye. When he moved his hand, I saw the skin start to swell around it. “Hit the bloody chair.” He explained. “I think I have a splinter on my arse.” I said. “Shall we try this again?” I didn’t answer right away. But he stood, and helped me up, both of us slipping around a bit. He led me over to the other end of the table, and lightly pressed on my upper back, till I was leaning over it. Certainly not the most dignified position.

“I was really hoping for something more romantic than this…” Jack said, apologetically, as he arranged us. “Eh.” I smiled slightly, at how I’d thought this whole trip would turn out. I’d pictured a wide, luxurious bed, and lit candles, A bottle of decent wine, and slow languid love-making. Jack pushed into me gently, and I bit the inside of my cheek. This was ‘not’ in any way enjoyable.. But nor was it wholly unbearable, so I simply breathed deeply, until he was all the way in me. “Gods.. James..” he whispered. Rapidly everything became much better. Not because he was buried deep inside me. No, that was still painful. But because of the soft affections that were escaping his unknowing lips. This was the Jack I’d wanted to see this week. Softly spoken, and sweetly attentive. See…

“Jack..” I said, pushing myself up to stand. He made a half-growl/half-purring sound, at the change of angle, and I moved so he slid out of me, before I sat myself, gingerly on the table. Most of the oil on my skin, had been scraped off onto the floor, so I was able to keep my seat. “I want to see you..” I mumbled, embarrassed. His face went from minor despair, to dark fondness, and he nodded. I leaned back on the table, offering myself up to him, and he moved back to his previous place. Less words of endearment were spoken this time, but we didn’t lose eye contact once.. Not even when I shouted out my release to the ship, and he cried out a minute or two later.

“This trip just might be pleasant, after all..” I mumbled, blinking lazily, at him. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea, at that moment, to remind him that his hair was now laid across my stomach, which was covered with my seed. Then again.. what an excuse to enjoy a bath together. I wonder if there’s a tub on the ship, or if we could use the Port Royal bathhouse.. Would anyone recognize Ja- “James.” “Yes, Jack?” “Quit thinking, and go to sleep.” So I did.