Travail

Suzanna needn’t have worried about the embarrassment factor the next morning as it turned out there was a big fat pigeon waiting to be plucked.

Mr. Gibbs came striding up just as they stepped out the door. “I was just coming to get ye, Captain. Cottons just spotted a ship dead north running relative slow and low in the water. She’s got a French flag and looks like she’s carryin about 28 guns.”

“Hardly seems sporting,” Jack replied. “C’mon, luv, let’s go have a look see.” Jack had just the fingers of one hand around Suzanna’s elbow guiding her toward the main mast, but despite the indifferent comment, she could feel his blood racing through his body. Or maybe that was her blood, because she felt like she was galloping downhill on her favorite roan back home. The excitement was contagious. “You’re going to need to climb, luv. Just take it slow and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to need some different clothes is what I’m going to need,” she called down. Jack was doing his best not to look impatient coming up beneath her, and it didn’t even seem to Suzanna that he was trying to look up her skirt. This is an event, she thought.

When she reached their destination, the crow’s nest, she was now 65 feet above deck level and another 16 above the waves. That was a long way down, particularly with how much more intimate with the wind one was up here. It seemed to seek out and find every opening in your clothing, determined to have its way with you, and blow you off course. Jack, of course, seemed as bothered by the height as Cotton’s parrot might have been. Suzanna thought it was exhilarating but...it was a long way down.

Jack unfolded the telescope, sighting north where Gibbs had indicated. He had an enormous grin on his face. Suzanna was reminded of the look on her nephew Henry’s face at his 4th birthday when he sat in front of a giant frosted cake, surrounded by a variety of lords and ladies and their offspring, right before he dove into it face first. She half expected Jack to be licking off frosting when he turned back to her. Oh. There was an image...

He held the telescope out to her with some impatience, wondering why she wasn’t quite as anxious as he thought she’d be to see. If you only knew what was going through my mind, she blushed.

At last, she held the telescope to her eye and looked around a bit frantically. “All I see is water and sky,: she argued.

“Here,” Jack said, sliding up right behind her and holding onto the telescope with her, looking through it to guide her to just the right spot. He could smell the jasmine now and the lavender in her shampoo with that mane of hair whipping around his face mixed with the taste of the wind and the salty tang of the stirred up ocean air. Oh, he thought. This I need to remember, and thoughts of the ship temporarily faded away.

“I’ve got it!” Suzanne cried, startling Jack back to the moment.

“Alright now, time for a pirate lesson, so pay attention. First, you check the flag to see what you’re dealing with.”

“There’s a blue background with three white fleur-de-lis. It’s French.”

“In theory, that’s true, but ye can’t trust it. Many’s the time I’ve run up a flag more colorful than my own in order to lead someone astray. But it’s still a place to start.”

“Now you look at how she’s ridin’. Where is she in the water? With her lines and length, she ought to be higher up in the water, but she’s low and fat as a Christmas goose, make no mistake, and that’s what’s interesting. We want a closer look to be sure.”

“So you don’t know yet if you’re going to attack?” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice, and Jack was distinctly amused.

“I do believe you’re acquiring some rather piratey instincts, madame,” he smirked.

“I wonder who could be rubbing off on me?”

“Every chance I get, luv. But right now, we’ve got work to do.”

********************

The Pearl moved in for a closer look, and Suzanna had her first sense of the ship as a living, breathing thing. She could feel the excitement running through the decking beneath her feet, coursing through the lines, and caught in the throat of her sails. The Pearl was coming alive all around her in anticipation of the chase and the catch. She had a glimpse of the lady Jack was so in love with, and she could not fault him for it.

Having established the fact that the ship was indeed what she seemed, preparations were underway for the attack. Grapples at the ready, coiled and orderly, to strike when needed. Guns checked and extra ammunition at hand. Jack swept around the ship making sure everything was to his satisfaction, and Suzanna was reminded once again of her father, in the sense of a complete command and mastery that both demanded respect and inspired confidence in his men. If people like the commodore could witness this Jack, they would not continually make the mistake of underestimating him.

When all was ready to his standards, he returned to Mr. Gibbs and Suzanna at the helm, Will and Elizabeth right behind. Jack looked squarely at Will and indicated Elizabeth and Suzanna with a tilt of his head. “William, I don’t anticipate them putting up any kind of a fight, but if the unexpected should occur, I am charging you with their safety. You may be an impertinent whelp but I’ve been at the pointy end of your sword and I trust you may even be willing to fight dirty to protect them.”

“Aye, Captain,” Will responded, the first time Suzanna had ever heard him address Jack that way in all the time they’d spent together.

There it is again, Suzanna noticed.

Jack turned to Suzanna. “Now I’m thinking that perhaps the Vicomtesse might be of use, assuming that she does, in fact, speak French.”

“At least as well as you speak English,” she prodded, and Jack narrowed his eyes at her.

“I thought you might enjoy playing a part in this little drama for research purposes, but if you prefer to disparage the captain, I could have you locked in the brig instead. Of course, that may be a little cozy for you if we take on prisoners, but I’m sure they’ll be delighted.”

“Alright, begging the Captain’s pardon,” and here she curtseyed deeply, “how might I be of service?”

“Have you got another one of those dresses, not quite as fancy, without the shoulders and a lot of, you know…?”

********************

Half an hour later, the Pearl had swooped in on the Reveille with such devastating speed that the French captain had no choice but to halt after the warning shot across the bow. There was no way he could outrun or outfight this ship, and he soon found himself on the deck of the Pearl surrendering a rather lovely Spanish-made sword. Suzanna served as interpreter but really would never have anticipated the conversation she would be having.

“Christ on a stick,” Jack whispered as the captain approached. “He looks like a bloody sofa with a bird sitting on top.” Indeed the French captain, a Monsieur Mouton they subsequently learned, was dressed in burgundy jacquard from breeches to coat topped off with black hat with a tall yellow feather. Particularly for a portly gentleman, it was a very poor choice. Jack’s description was so dead on, Suzanna dug her fingernails into his arm in reprimand for her near explosion of laughter.

[Indicates conversation spoken in French.]

“Captain,” demanded Jack, “do you cede possession of all the contents of your ship immediately and lay aside any and all presumptions to her defense?

Suzanna translated.

[I do,] replied a dispirited looking Captain Mouton.

“Very well. You will provide Mr. Gibbs with your ship’s manifest including a listing of any and all goods currently in your possession. Should you fail to do so, the penalties will be severe and immediately visited upon the officers of the Reveille.”

“Understood,” he responded in French, but looking at Jack.

Their business concluded, he turned to address Suzanna directly. Keeping his voice businesslike, as if he were continuing to discuss the terms of their agreement, he questioned her. [“And tell me Madame, how is it that a pathetic and unconscionable Anglais comes to have sailing with him a lovely, if misguided, French woman. What a waste to have a woman such as yourself subject to the inept bumblings of an Englishman. If I had but more time, perhaps you could know what it is to have a real man between your legs...”]

Not wanting to be the cause of bloodshed, Suzanna drew on all her years of experience to keep her face neutral and her tone light. [“Monsieur, considering that your life is hanging by the thread of my courtesy and discretion, by not translating what you just said to Captain Sparrow, perhaps you might try utilizing some manners of your own. For I am more than certain that if I repeat that last remark, you will find your guts spilled out on the deck for the gulls,”] she explained, smiling politely.

The Captain of the Reveille made a very French noise that sounded rather like a horse blowing hello, but said no more.

********************

Despite the bizarre exchange with the French captain, which she was rather proud of herself for having handled so calmly, Suzanna had to confess that the encounter was not the excitement that she had anticipated.

The Pearl’s crew was amazingly efficient at transferring the cargo from the French ship and it was all accomplished in less than an hour, the exchange looking more like the London commercial docks than any pirate battle she had imagined. Of course it might be more fun if she could explore what exactly it was they’d stolen. She’d have to talk to Mr. Gibbs about that. That seemed to be his bailiwick.

As Murphy had described to her about the attack he had experienced, Anna Maria and Matunga worked together to cut down the sails of the Reveille and saw that they landed squarely in the sea. Suzanna could see the expression on the faces of some of the Reveille’s crew as they realized the work it would entail to get her back up and running again. Still, they knew they had escaped with both lives and ship intact and they were fortunate to have done so.

As Will was cutting the lines to the Reveille just before she pulled away, Captain Mouton looked over at the Pearl just in time to see Jack Sparrow grab Suzanna up in a searing, hip-grinding kiss, that left her stunned and more than a little breathless.

“What brought that on?” she gasped.

Jack held tightly at her waist and used the other hand to move her hair out of the way so he could lick and nip at that neck and shoulders. He hoped the bastard was still watching. “I’ll give him ‘a real man between your legs’...” Jack growled.

Despite her pounding heart and racing pulse, Suzanna brought her arms in front of her to fend him off for a minute, declaring, “You knew what he was saying the whole time?!”

“Yeah,” he admitted with a small nod.

“And so we went through this little charade why exactly?”

“Well, first, I thought it might be fun. I didn’t know he was going to be such a cheeky bastard. Nice, about the guts for the gulls, though.”

“Secondly, rumors and battles and stories about and among pirates fly about in taverns the way who got to watch the King pee in the morning does in your court. Now the rumor will get about that we’ve got a French woman on board the Pearl not an English one. In my experience, the more they think they know and the less they actually do know, ye can use that to your advantage.”

Suzanna shook her head. Was anything ever exactly how it seemed with Jack, or was there always an ulterior motive? He’d have made a great duke.

“And I’m wearing this dress because you thought to distract him, and it is always to your advantage to have an opponent distracted during a negotiation,” she offered.

“Right.”

Suzanna looked at him.

Jack grinned sheepishly, and Suzanna had a glimpse of that boy again, “No, not really. Actually, I asked you to wear one of those dresses because you look so fine in it and I like looking at you.”

The corners of Suzanna’s mouth curled up. “That’s not such a bad answer either.”

Jack judged this a good time to return to nibbling and gradually made his way around Suzanna so that he could focus his attentions on the back of her neck. She shivered. This was definitely one of her spots. He started building wherever he’d noticed a strong reaction to his touch, but now Jack was creating little stores of treasure around her body: her wrist, the back of her neck. Each touch carried with it the memories of all the touches before it and where they had traveled together, multiplying her reaction each time. He couldn’t wait to see where the next cache would be.

“So the crew will be celebratin and divvying up swag and there’s nowhere I’ve got to be for a while...,” he murmured against her skin.

“And had you thought to subject me to more of your inept bumblings, Englishman?” she teased, but knowing she couldn’t keep the desire out of her voice.

Suzanna couldn’t really have described the noise that came from Jack as he picked her up and carried her back to the cabin, but she had a feeling she’d thrown down a gauntlet that he couldn’t help but pick up and she was going to suffer the consequences.

The consequences were delicious.

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Chapter Eight