Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, written purely for fun.




I do not pretend to understand this strange affair. For the first time in my life, I just accept. I do not question. I do not ask questions. I do understand that he is, with the exception of Elizabeth, the only person capable of forcing me to shed the metaphorical coat of the His Majesty's Royal Navy. At some point in my career, I became more of a "commodore" and less of a "James," if you will. You watch your men, your friends, die at the end of a sword and it hardens your heart. At least it has hardened mine. This loss of innocence, this viewing of life as friend or foe has served me very well in my career.

Until I met Jack Sparrow I didn't realize that it was at the expense of the man.

Oddly enough, I think that Jack suffers from the same fate. We are similar that way. I wonder if he sees it? No doubt he does, and perhaps it's one of the reasons why he shares my bed on Thursday nights.

He is an excellent pirate, I must admit, but it puts him much in the same position as me. Making choices that must conflict with the man inside. I would not have said this a year ago. Then the pirate must hang. Every time. That day when I let him jump or fall or whatever he did off that cliff (the topic is still under discussion, shall we say), the commodore gave way to the man. I do not regret it. My life would have been much easier had I not turned a blind eye. But I did.

The rain is torrential tonight. Despite my insistence that the furniture was expensive and I would prefer that it not get drenched, he manages to open the windows when my back is turned. Murmurs something about always needing an escape hatch, "Savvy?" Given that this is Jack Sparrow, I "savvy."

I shut them, he opens them. It has become a game between us. One of many, I might add. He is sleeping, the warmth of his breath against my shoulder compensates for the bone digging into my collarbone. Damn bone. He sleeps deeply and yet no one is ever more attuned to the slightly shift in the air or the tiniest creak. I will never be able to slide out from under him without waking him up. I hear the wind and rain and imagine that my floorboards are soaking wet. As the windows are, yes, open. How he managed to do that while sucking my cock is a mystery.

Dawn is not far off.




Fin