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[ a good and true mucking up ]
by kHo

“Tell me, Gibbs.’

“Aye, Cap´n.’

“What say you about this mess?’

“I say it´s not surprising at all.’


“Not at all.’

“´N why is that?’

“Because you were always a romantic.’


“Tis true, Jack. Always was and always will be.’

“Your head´s full o´lead, Gibbs. I´m no romantic.’

“Not in the traditional sense, mind.’

“What other sense is there?’

“The Jack sense.’

“I´m… what?’

“You´re romantic in the Jack sense of the word. You always did have a particular way of mucking things up, Jack.’

“Mucking things up?’


“An´ how´ve I mucked--’

“Jack. We´re in a holding cell, waiting to be hanged as soon as the day breaks. It´s a good and true mucking up, mate.’

“I just wanted to see the boy be married.’

“I know, mate, but you were hoping for something else as well, weren´t you?’

“Some good rum, maybe a fine lady to rub up against…’

“And the look on young William´s face when his eyes caught light of yours. You weren´t hoping for that, were you?’

“That´s just desert, mate.’

“You´re in love with the boy, Jack.’

“Mrf ptnck.’

“What´s that?’

“I said, Gibbs… What I said was…’


“Aw, hell, Gibbs, you know me too well.’

“And a daft fool I was to follow you ashore.’

“Always have been that, Gibbs. S´not my doing.’

“And here we sit, in a dark, dank cell, smellin´ o´ piss n´ rum, and things I dare not speak of… waiting to be hanged when the sun rises.’

“Wouldn´t worry ‘bout that, mate.’

“Wouldn´t, hmm? N´ why is that?’

“Always manage to get my neck out o´the noose, don´t I?’

“Yes, but this time it´s mine and yours.’

“Gibbs! You think I´d let that pretty neck o´yours be crushed by rope?’

“Pretty. Try old, weathered, and having seen better days.’

“Pretty as anything, Gibbs. An´ I have an eye for such things.’

“Jack, flirting with me will not get us out of this predicament.’

“Flirting´s always been my forte, Gibbs. I wouldn´t underestimate its power.’

“I fail to see--’

“Especially when the guard in charge of us seems to have an eye for the dark and pretty. And I am that, Gibbs. I´m quite pretty, actually. Dashing one might say.’


“Aye, mate?’

“Have you been flirting with our guard?’




“You have the keys to our cells, don´t you?’

“Our guard blushes very prettily.’


“Yes, Gibbs?’

“What the bloody hell am I still doing sitting in pig´s shit if you´ve the key to our cells?!’

“Well we were having such a lovely conversation, mate…’


“Alright, alright… hang on.’

“You bloody fool, Jack. It´s nearly morning!’

“Respect, Gibbs. It´s Captain Jack.’


“I´m coming, I´m coming!’

“I´m going to crush that neck o´yours one of these days Jack. I truly am.’

“But it´s such a lovely neck.’

“It´ll be even lovelier when your head´s not attached to it.’

“Now that´s just mutinous, Gibbs. I´m not entirely sure it´s in my best interested to see if this little key here works in your cell door--’


“I love it when your voice goes all gruff like that. Puts dirty things in me head.’

“I swear to God Almighty himself, Jack, if you don´t get me out of here right now--’

“Free as a bird, love… keys work like a charm, don´t they?’


“I am. And you love me for it.’

“God help me, I do.’

“Come now… musn´t waste time.’

“If we get back to the Pearl in one piece, Jack, I´m withholding your stash.’

“Such threats!’

“I mean it Jack. No more rum for you for at least a day.’

“Not even if I promise to leave you aboard the ship next time?’



“Next time?’

“I´ve revealed too much, haven´t I?’

“Two days! I´m withholding it for two days!’

“You´re so pretty when your nostrils flare, Gibbs.’

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