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order_of_chaosTitle: Reddery.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
order_of_chaos
Pairing: Sparrington.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Snark. Plants. Snark. Jack and James stuck to each other by the hands via Random Magical Spell.
Written for:xzombiexkittenx
for the "Picture Prompt drabble-meme". Sorry this took so long,
[insert random excuses.] And it still needs a sequel, which I
will hopefully, eventually write. Enjoy!
Reddery
“Pretty plants luv, but - ow...” Jack swore was he yanked his hair free from the offending botany. "Just what are they?"
Norrington favoured him with an impatient glare. "They are in the way, Sparrow," he answered crushingly, "as are you. Keep moving."
"To be sure, Commodore," Jack spat, " I would be delighted to. However, this," he gave a vicious tug on their magically bound hands, "is making the task somewhat less than easy to accomplish."
The tug no more succeeded in separating them than it had the previous fifty-odd times they'd tried it. It did, however, have the effect of making the Commodore reflexively pull his hand back, dragging Jack with it. With the difference in their weights and Jack already off-balance, the pirate was sent tumbling into Norrington, who in turn went sprawling.
Jack ended up on top of the Commodore, pressed close against all that long, powerful muscle – it might have been pleasant, if the man wasn't so bloody irritating - their fall broken by masses of red-hued greenery. Or would that be reddery, Jack wondered, considering that it was red, and not green at all.
Smouldering green eyes stared up at him. "Off," Norrington growled. "Now."
Truly the Commodore looked like he was about to lose it. "Whatever you say mate." Stamping firmly on the fraying shred of his own temper, Jack scrambled awkwardly to his feet, managing not to break either of their wrists as he did so.
Norrington stood quickly, brushing bits of plant off his ruined uniform. "And don't touch me," he added.
That was it. "Trust me, darling," Jack hissed furiously," if it were at all avoidable, I wouldn't."
No answer, just a clenched jaw and the whisper of a deep breath as the Commodore carefully locked his emotions away again.
That wouldn't do. Norrington as ice was even more frustrating than Norrington as fire. Jack spun back towards him, deliberately invading the man's personal space. "Might I remind you, Commodore," he bit out, his words hot against the hollow of the officer’s throat. "That it's not my fault we're here - it's William bloody Turner junior's, may he be covered in honey and tied naked to an ant hill in the Caribbean noonday sun - so you don't need to be blaming me for it. Savvy?"
"Fine. I savvy." Norrington jerked away from him, and it was only then that Jack realised how very still he'd gone while he had been talking. "It's not your fault. Now if we could kindly keep moving, we might at least be able to find the cave Will mentioned and break the curse before we have to spend another night like this." He held up their stubbornly joined hands as punctuation.
“Why Commodore,” Jack drawled mockingly, “don’t you like my company?” He tilted his head, staring a challenge at the man, and waited.
Reluctantly, Norrington released a breath that was half hiss, half sigh, and some of the tension went out of his muscles as he forced himself to relax. “I apologise, Sparrow,” he said stiffly. “That was uncalled for.”
“Better.” There was still no trace of liking in his voice, but Jack could work with that. The pirate grinned wolfishly at his not-quite-enemy. “Much better.” Catching a glimpse of shadowed blackness beyond the plants they had so conveniently flattened, he grinned again, brighter. “Besides, I think we’re here.”
Author:
order_of_chaosPairing: Sparrington.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Snark. Plants. Snark. Jack and James stuck to each other by the hands via Random Magical Spell.
Written for:
xzombiexkittenx
for the "Picture Prompt drabble-meme". Sorry this took so long,
[insert random excuses.] And it still needs a sequel, which I
will hopefully, eventually write. Enjoy!Reddery
“Pretty plants luv, but - ow...” Jack swore was he yanked his hair free from the offending botany. "Just what are they?"
Norrington favoured him with an impatient glare. "They are in the way, Sparrow," he answered crushingly, "as are you. Keep moving."
"To be sure, Commodore," Jack spat, " I would be delighted to. However, this," he gave a vicious tug on their magically bound hands, "is making the task somewhat less than easy to accomplish."
The tug no more succeeded in separating them than it had the previous fifty-odd times they'd tried it. It did, however, have the effect of making the Commodore reflexively pull his hand back, dragging Jack with it. With the difference in their weights and Jack already off-balance, the pirate was sent tumbling into Norrington, who in turn went sprawling.
Jack ended up on top of the Commodore, pressed close against all that long, powerful muscle – it might have been pleasant, if the man wasn't so bloody irritating - their fall broken by masses of red-hued greenery. Or would that be reddery, Jack wondered, considering that it was red, and not green at all.
Smouldering green eyes stared up at him. "Off," Norrington growled. "Now."
Truly the Commodore looked like he was about to lose it. "Whatever you say mate." Stamping firmly on the fraying shred of his own temper, Jack scrambled awkwardly to his feet, managing not to break either of their wrists as he did so.
Norrington stood quickly, brushing bits of plant off his ruined uniform. "And don't touch me," he added.
That was it. "Trust me, darling," Jack hissed furiously," if it were at all avoidable, I wouldn't."
No answer, just a clenched jaw and the whisper of a deep breath as the Commodore carefully locked his emotions away again.
That wouldn't do. Norrington as ice was even more frustrating than Norrington as fire. Jack spun back towards him, deliberately invading the man's personal space. "Might I remind you, Commodore," he bit out, his words hot against the hollow of the officer’s throat. "That it's not my fault we're here - it's William bloody Turner junior's, may he be covered in honey and tied naked to an ant hill in the Caribbean noonday sun - so you don't need to be blaming me for it. Savvy?"
"Fine. I savvy." Norrington jerked away from him, and it was only then that Jack realised how very still he'd gone while he had been talking. "It's not your fault. Now if we could kindly keep moving, we might at least be able to find the cave Will mentioned and break the curse before we have to spend another night like this." He held up their stubbornly joined hands as punctuation.
“Why Commodore,” Jack drawled mockingly, “don’t you like my company?” He tilted his head, staring a challenge at the man, and waited.
Reluctantly, Norrington released a breath that was half hiss, half sigh, and some of the tension went out of his muscles as he forced himself to relax. “I apologise, Sparrow,” he said stiffly. “That was uncalled for.”
“Better.” There was still no trace of liking in his voice, but Jack could work with that. The pirate grinned wolfishly at his not-quite-enemy. “Much better.” Catching a glimpse of shadowed blackness beyond the plants they had so conveniently flattened, he grinned again, brighter. “Besides, I think we’re here.”