Rp for captjacksparrow

[bertiewwooster]

'Dash it, Jeeves, it's too bally early!'  He grumbles, still half asleep.  'If you're going to wake a chap up at an indecent hour like this you could at least bring him a cup of tea, what?'

But Jeeves doesn't answer.  There is no serene voice next to the bed saying 'My apologies, sir, but you had requested to be woken at this hour,' no cup of tea

Comments

[captjacksparrow]

They tulips -- they're chasing him with pure intent to eat him. Jack's sure of it. Never should have come to Holland. Ridiculous place for being made with so much water, and Jack's Dutch is too rusty to properly explain to the giant flowers why, in fact, it would be a very bad idea to eat him. One giant green leafy... plant-part is about to scoop him up when Jack suddenly fires into consciousness. A shout rings in his ears

[bertiewwooster]

Bertie eyes Jack sympathetically. 'Rather.' He concurs vehemently, and reaches awkwardly out with a leg to snag his shorts with his toes from where they'd been flung across the room, trying (with little effect, it must be said) to cover his nakedness. Feeling slightly less awkward now he's got something covering him, but still with a vicious headache, he looks at Jack, blinking rapidly.

'Er, we didn't really intend to fall asleep, did we? That is to say, um, staying the night here and all wasn't exactly in the plan, was it?'

He recalls somewhat more of the night before now, his brain reluctantly being pulled into proper consciousness and he smiles a little to himself, even if the expression is somewhat strained. It was worth it anyway, whatever 'it' is.

[captjacksparrow]

'Not the plan, no.'

Jack keeps his gaze directed mainly at the window, but out of the corner of his eyes he can see Bertie hunting around for his clothes. Jack glances down at his own skin, dried sweat patching little white trails down his chest and stomach, but doesn't much mind being naked. In fact he tries to be that way as much as possible, thoroughly enjoying a lack of covering, but right now it's a subtle concern. An irrelevant fact when he's sitting here, gone off without a word and Norrington probably ready to stretch his neck six feet when he goes back.

Not an idea Jack particularly fancies. He frowns. Maybe he just shouldn't go back. The notion sends a surge of panic through his veins, so he ammends a brief yet to the equation. He shouldn't go back yet. He's hung about this long, so it seems all right to hang about some more. And he enjoys Bertie's company. Quite a lot

[bertiewwooster]

Bertie ceases his frantic search for his clothing- his shoes are there by the bed, but where the deuce has his shirt got to?- when Jack leans in to press a quick kiss against his lips. He has a point, actually. Shockingly