Double Drabble for Halloween
Title: Fair Ladies
Pairing: (pre-established) Sparrington
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If wishes were horses then I’d be sneezing because I’m allergic to horses and I’d be mad because I’d rather that wishes were the many incarnations of Johnny Depp.
*~*~*~*
“To those who came an’ went before. To Bill specifically, and those the both of us have lost generally.”
Jack pours out a healthy splash of wine onto the moonlit soaked boards of the Pearl. Odd enough that he’s broken out the good liquor, odder still that he’d let a drop of it spill. He cocks a lopsided smile at James and raises his glass.
“And to the Black Pearl, my best and only gal.”
James toasts with him. It really is the good stuff. He lets the mood take him and also spills wine onto the still warm deck. “The Pearl isn’t a ghost,” he comments mildly.
Jack shrugs one shoulder. “Old habits die hard and ten years is a long time to be all…discorporate like.” He sips at the wine then slips one arm around James’ waist.
The Pearl cuts through the water, silent as a wraith. The pumpkins Jack bought at market two days ago have been carved into ghoulish faces and they shine out over the water.
“C’mon sweetheart, let’s to bed,” Jack says with a leer, ignoring the face James makes at the endearment. “I’ve a notion to make your ma turn in her grave.”
Pairing: (pre-established) Sparrington
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If wishes were horses then I’d be sneezing because I’m allergic to horses and I’d be mad because I’d rather that wishes were the many incarnations of Johnny Depp.
*~*~*~*
“To those who came an’ went before. To Bill specifically, and those the both of us have lost generally.”
Jack pours out a healthy splash of wine onto the moonlit soaked boards of the Pearl. Odd enough that he’s broken out the good liquor, odder still that he’d let a drop of it spill. He cocks a lopsided smile at James and raises his glass.
“And to the Black Pearl, my best and only gal.”
James toasts with him. It really is the good stuff. He lets the mood take him and also spills wine onto the still warm deck. “The Pearl isn’t a ghost,” he comments mildly.
Jack shrugs one shoulder. “Old habits die hard and ten years is a long time to be all…discorporate like.” He sips at the wine then slips one arm around James’ waist.
The Pearl cuts through the water, silent as a wraith. The pumpkins Jack bought at market two days ago have been carved into ghoulish faces and they shine out over the water.
“C’mon sweetheart, let’s to bed,” Jack says with a leer, ignoring the face James makes at the endearment. “I’ve a notion to make your ma turn in her grave.”