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Never happened, never will. Sigh. It’s really too bad. Just imagine how much fun two cows would be on a pirate ship. Some characters belong to Disney, not me.
Warning: Complicated family trees. Just remember that Jack and Bootstrap Bill used to be lovers, and that Bootstrap is now married to Tessie, who is Anamaria’s mother, so Anamaria is Will’s stepsister, and she’s carrying Jack’s baby…
Fertility
Captain Jack Sparrow squinted with one eye open and gauged the distance from deck to makeshift raft with a practiced eye. Then he looked at the cow.
“Y’think this’ll work then, eh?” he asked Will.
Will glared at him. He tightened the harness around the cow’s shoulders, and looked underneath again to make sure the ropes wouldn’t harm her udders. He’d emptied the cow earlier in the day, much to Jack’s amusement.
“Mind you don’t let Charlotte see you doing that,” Jack had cackled as he watched Will tug on the full teats. “Send her into a lather, it would.”
Ever since then, Will had been less than cordial. Apparently, Jack was supposed to be happy with the fact that his ship had been degraded, soiled and otherwise disrespected by the transport of farm animals, both on deck and below. Well, Jack was having none of that. He wanted the beasts off the ship, and the sooner the better. There was no reason to be polite about it.
He eyed the jury rigged raft, and the two men standing at opposite ends of it. Bootstrap and a young lad, about twenty, tall and lanky. They were supposed to keep the cow from toppling into the brine. Rough planks lashed to barrels, no rail, not even a post to tie the cow to. It was destined to sink.
Ah well, he thought to himself, Bootstrap always did look good dripping wet. Jack would throw a rope down to him when he fell in, and the cow could drown. Jack hated the thing. It kept giving him looks, sniffing at his clothes, snuffling at his chest as if she knew him him. Making low, gargling sounds at him. Hideous beasts, bovines were.
Bertram scaled the rigging to inspect the boom. “Looks good, Will. Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Will muttered. “If you would, Mr. Shimura.”
“Man the capstan!” Shimura shouted for the men to take their places. They began to slowly pace at his command.
Shimura’s men turned the crank and the harness tightened around the cow. She mooed plaintively. Will and Gibbs took up positions on either side of the cow and steadied her as she was slowly lifted off the boards. When she dangled a foot above the deck, Will shouted for the men to drop the pauls. One of the lads hauled on the line at the end of the beam, to swing the cow over to the place where Bertram and Will had removed the railing.
Jack peered over the rail again. “Long way down,” he whistled. “Make a mistake and she’ll be ready for knacker’s yard…”
“Mother’s love, Jack, stop swinging the lead and get your arse over here to help! You want the bloody thing off yer ship, don’t ya?” Gibbs snarled.
Jack stepped close enough to reach out and grab one of the ropes steadying the by now bellowing cow. He made a decent show of helping to swing her over the edge. As soon as she dangled free of the deck he scurried out of the way. Will and Gibbs held the safety ropes, as if they would be able to stop her from falling if the beam broke.
It was worth the bravado, though, because of the way Will braced himself for possible impact with his legs spread like that, feet planted firmly on the deck, muscles tensed, seat of his trousers clinging to him, with all aspects of his fine arse clearly outlined. Jack said a little prayer to the gods, whoever they might be, responsible for the invention of manual labour.
The cow was lowered to the raft without mishap, and a half dozen men began to tow the raft to shore using the longboat. Will looked very smug about the whole thing.
“Fine show, lad,” Jack slapped him on the shoulder. “And I’m sure it will work just as well with the gentleman.” He gestured toward the bull, which stared back at Jack with a menacing gleam in his black eyes.
The bull snorted and pawed at the deck.
“I don’t think he likes you, Jack,” Gibbs said. “Maybe you should go wait in your cabin until all this is done, savvy?”
So Jack went to his cabin, and did not come out, not when he heard the group on shore yelling and fussing as they led the cow off the raft and onto the beach, not when he heard the bull snort and roar, not when he heard the shouts of the men, not when he heard the splintering of wood, and definitely not when he heard the splash that was too small to be a bull, but too big to be a dropped rope. He threw back a fourth or so shot of rum and headed to the window. The bull was on the raft, being towed to shore where the cow waited placidly. There were more shouts on deck, some raucous laughter, and then the door of his cabin swung open.
Will stood in the doorway, dripping wet.
"Mind you don't drip on Monkey," Jack warned.
"Monkey?"
"The cat."
Will frowned. "I thought you said you didn't want to name the cat."
"I didn't, but you were busy on deck.” Jack shrugged and reached out to scratch Monkey's chin. “I felt daft, sitting here all by my onesie talking to a cat with no name."
"But, 'Monkey?"
"Barbossa named his monkey 'Jack', eh? So I named our cat 'Monkey'."
Will's eyes narrowed. "Have you been at the rum already?"
The cat, sitting on the chest of drawers near the bed, meowed.
“Only a little. No more than you’ve been at the water.” Jack turned his back on Will.
Will grimaced. Jack was not being helpful. In fact, Jack was being an arrogant bastard. Bloody pirate. He hated it when Jack was in a testy mood.
But it was all too easy for Will to change that.
He closed the door behind him and peeled his sopping shirt off his body.
At the sound of wet shirt smacking on the floor, Jack put down his pewter mug.
Will kicked off his soaking wet boots. One clunked across the floor into Jack’s line of vision. Jack licked his lips.
Next came the trousers, dripping onto the floor, sticking to Will’s long legs. Jack peeked over his shoulder.
One hem caught on Will’s ankle and he had to shake it loose. The movement caused an almost comical shaking of the goods, which Jack would have laughed at if he wasn’t so flabbergasted by the sudden revelation of all that sleek golden flesh.
Naked Will always had that effect on Jack. And Will knew it.
Will grabbed a rag from the back of a chair and began to wring out his dripping hair. “Chilly in here. Think I’ll go dry off in the sunshine up top.”
Jack bounded across the room. There was no way he was letting that perfect arse go out there like this, bared for all to see. He wedged himself between the door and naked Will. “I think you can dry off in here, mate. I’ll help you meself.”
Will tried to walk around him, but Jack swayed and shifted to match every move he made.
Jack wagged his finger in the air. “Will, put some trousers on. Please.” Jack’s hands fell into the familiar praying/begging motion he always assumed when he’d run out of tactics. “I’m sorry I made the comment about the harlot. I mean, Charlotte. Your sister-in law. Step sister-in-law. Not really ‘in law’, in fact, is she? I meant no disrespect. Apparently, it was distasteful of me. And I assure you, I won’t do it again. Just don’t… I don’t want them to see you like this.”
Will raised just one eyebrow. The ensuing crooked crease between his brows was the most lickable thing Jack had seen all day. That is, until he looked down to see Will’s cock slowly filing and growing and rising. Now that was definitely more lickable, if only for the considerably larger surface area.
“I only want me to see you like this.”
The other eyebrow rose as well.
“And as much as I want everyone in the world to be jealous of me, they’ll be more than jealous enough if they see you in trousers, eh? No need to flaunt it, like. Savvy?”
Will’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Oh, Jack, I was just teasing.” He pressed his lean body up against Jack’s. “Only you see me like this.”
Jack grinned with relief, and felt free to do what he’d wanted to do all along. He pushed Will against the door and dropped to the floor. Gorgeous, succulent, simply delicious cock in his mouth, high round arse under his hands, long fingers tangled in his hair; Jack was doing precisely as he pleased, indeed. Will grunted and thudded his head against the door.
The cat jumped from the dresser to the table for a closer look. Jack ignored it.
There was a huge cry from the crowd on the beach as the bull broke loose from his bonds and charged across the sand. Jack utterly ignored it. He worked his mouth up and down Will’s cock in a steady rhythm, savouring every moan and purr.
He was sorry. He was sorry he had a boat full of bloody pirates and couldn’t drag Will outside and do this to him in the sunlight. They would have to find some place they could be alone together in the sun again. This island was too full of people now. People and nosey bloody heathen gods. Jack determined to shut them all out. Right now, it was just him and Will.
And that cursed pounding on the door. It wouldn’t stop.
Will moaned when Jack pulled his mouth, agonizing inch after agonizing inch, off his cock. Jack hauled himself to his feet. He grabbed the rag from Will’s hand and draped it over the erect cock, where it hung like some perverted signal flag. Will giggled. Giggled, lord help Jack. “Don’t go anywhere,” he instructed, and pushed Will to the side so he could open the door a crack.
Tessie. Bloody Tessie. What was she doing on his ship?
“We came to clean up after the animals. Where’s Will?”
Jack winced. “He’ll be out in a minute. He took a bit of a bath earlier, and he’s just getting dried off.”
“That was quite some time ago, Jack. The bull’s already on the island and we’ve come back in the longboat. How long does it take you to dress the lad in dry clothes?” Tessie sounded irritated.
Not nearly as irritated as Jack was. “In a minute!” he shouted.
The signal flag waved in the air. Will had to grit his teeth to keep from moaning.
“I’ll be out in a moment,” Will managed to say.
Tessie sat on a barrel just outside Jack’s door. She crossed her arms over her chest and squinted in the bright sunlight. Bootstrap and the lad were shovelling the animal waste into a barrel, to be used for fertilizer. The soil on this island needed work, but it would grow crops soon enough.
There was a loud thud against the door frame, and a low groan. The door creaked under someone’s weight. Rhythmically. She turned her head to see the handle of the door turning randomly. The curtains slung across the windows were pressed up against the window panes, and moving from side to side in time with the creaking. There were a few muttered curses, and shuffling on the floor.
Tessie shook her head. Bloody pirates. They had no self-control to speak of. She looked over at Bootstrap. Not that that was a bad thing, the lack of self-control. Looking at Bootstrap wasn’t such a bad thing either.
A hand appeared in the window, grasping at the edge of the curtain. She could see it out of the corner of her eye. Jack’s voice came through the door, urgent. “Jesus, Will!” It was abruptly muffled and then came a sound she wasn’t entirely expecting, although she wasn’t surprised either. It was quiet but clear.
Will was purring.
Phenomenal. The boy purred just like his father did. Tessie shifted uncomfortably on the barrel. Low groans, muted moans, another thud, presumably from Will’s head hitting the door frame again. What the hell was Jack doing to the poor lad?
She could tell from the sound of body on door that he was sliding down to the floor. Tessie couldn’t blame him. Then they moved away from the door and she could hear nothing but a few grunts from Jack and indistinct mumbles, until Jack hollered a cuss word Tessie wouldn’t dream of saying aloud, and there was a contented humming from Will. Or that’s what it sounded like.
Tessie recrossed her legs and pressed her thighs together. Tightly.
After a minute or so, Will tumbled out the door wearing nothing but a pair of damp trousers and some soggy boots. “Hello, Tessie,” he muttered, “I mean, mum.”
She watched him walk over to where Bootstrap and the lad were picking pieces of straw out of the scuppers.
Jack sidled out of the door moments later, half-dressed but not obscene, dragging a chair with him. He sank down in the shadow of the quarter deck, slumped in the chair exhausted, and scowled at the sunlight.
They sat in silence.
Finally, when the three men were swabbing the deck where the cows had been, bared backs and chest gleaming with sweat, muscles bulging in arms and shoulders, Tessie cleared her throat.
“Fine looking man you have there,” she said.
Will tossed his hair out of his eyes. Jack loved it when he did that.
“Yours too,” he replied. Bootstrap was hauling a full bucket of water up from the bay, forearms flexing nicely.
Tessie nodded.
They watched a while longer.
“Who’s the kid?”
The kid was taller than Will or Bootstrap, leaner, with long corded muscles, smooth dark skin and a lovely, cleanshaven face. Strong cheekbones, sharply defined jaw, almond-shaped black eyes.
“He’s from the last group Jacob brought on shore. He’s Elsie’s husband.”
Elsie? The one who plastered herself all over Will at every available opportunity?
“Alphonse married them last week.”
“Married?” Jack stuttered, “But she’s just a kid.”
“Kid? Twenty is plenty old enough for marrying. I had two children by the time I was twenty,” Tessie huffed.
Jack stared at Tessie in disbelief.
“Jack, you’re not much of a judge of age. We darker women age much better than your pale girls do. How old do you think I am, anyway?”
Jack swallowed. Of all the questions. Fraught. Fraught it was. If he guessed too low it would be seen as pandering. It he guessed too high… he spread his hands in defencelessness. “I, uh, I don’t…” Think, Jack. He fiddled frantically with his chin beads. “I…”
Tessie laughed. “Smarter than you look, Captain Sparrow! I have all of forty-nine years.”
Jack stared dumbly. Forty-nine. That was impossible. She looked forty, maybe. Which would have made it nigh impossible for her to be the mother of Anamaria, and Kay and Alphonse and Jacob. And the madam, whose name Jack couldn’t remember.
“Which makes it an extra miracle, wouldn’t you say?” she added, cryptically.
Jack raised his eyebrows expectantly. Tessie was looking admiringly at Bootstrap as he helped Will reconstruct the railing he’d dismantled earlier. Surely, she would tell him what the miracle was, eventually.
Tessie turned to look at Jack. “The baby.”
The baby. Ah, yes, Tessie would be a grandmother again. That would count as a miracle, he supposed. “And how is Anamaria?” he asked, politely.
“She’s having a much worse time of it than me,” Tessie said. “Sick as a dog. Not me. So far, this is my easiest time of it yet. Okonkwo says we’ll both deliver around the same time, too.”
Jack gaped. “Oh, really?”
Tessie nodded. “Oh, yes. It was quite a surprise, I must say. But Bill and I are very much looking forward to the baby.” She patted her stomach lightly.
Another baby. Tessie’s baby, which was Bootstrap’s, and she was going to have it around the same time Anamaria would have hers, which was Jack’s… so one baby would be the son of the other’s father’s ex-lover, and the other would be the half-brother or sister of the of the ex-lover’s son, who is the lover of the father of the baby the daughter would have…
Will glanced over at his lover and stepmother in time to see Jack keel over onto the deck.
The cat slid out from the captain’s cabin and rubbed her cheek against the heel of Jack’s prone boot.
Next: Chapter 81 Visitors
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