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First Mate Duties

Summary:

Ana and Jack are always arguing, and sometimes a bit of hot chocolate makes things better.

Notes:

Part of the OC Cove's christmass prompts for this week :3

Work Text:

⋆꙳❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

 

"It’s practically pagan, love," Jack observed, leaning against a doorframe. "Bringing dead foliage indoors. It’s morbid. Bad luck waiting to happen."

Ana was balancing on a stool and managed to shoot him a glare despite de wobbliness.

"It’s festive, Jack. It’s for the solstice. And if you aren't going to help, you could at least bite your tongue before I cut it"

"I am helping," Jack protested, flapping a hand. "I am supervising,"

"Then do it quietly"

"You see as First Mate, it is my duty to oversee the Captain’s shore leave activities to ensure maximum efficiency. And this? This feels like a gross misuse of resources. Bringing foliage indoors. It’s unnatural. It invites bugs."

"It invites the Holy Spirit, Jack."

"And why would I want him here?"

Ana shot him a look that could have curdled milk. She wiped sweat from her forehead, leaving a trail of cracked leaves on her cheek.

"It’s for the solstice. For the holiday. It’s what people do."

"Ah," Jack clucked his tongue "You’re playing house, Ana. It’s adorable, really. Trying to pretend we aren't what we are or that you don't sleep with three knives under your pillow."

Ana’s foot slipped on the stool. She caught herself, but a length of heavy garland whacked her square in the face.

"I am not playing," she hissed, pushing the garland away. "I am— nevermind! You wouldn't understand"

"I understand perfectly," Jack breezed on, ignoring the warning bells ringing in his head as he often did. "It’s a futile attempt to domesticate the wild. Next, you’ll be asking me to wear a cravat and darn socks while you pace the quarterdeck."

"At least I have a quarterdeck to pace," Ana snapped. "Unlike some people who lost their ship twice and have to sleep on my couch because they have nowhere else to go."

Jack stilled.

He blinked once.

The hit had landed—he had to admit—harder than he expected, square on his chest. He let go of the loose nail he was picking at on the frame.

He didn't look at her. He smoothed the cuffs of his shirt, and forced himself to swallow.

"Right then," he cleared his throat. "Well. I shall leave you to your... botany. I believe I have terribly important First Mate business to attend."

He heard her sigh.

"Jack..."

But he didn't wait for what she had to say. He turned on his heel and swept out of the room, grabbing his hat from the hook by the door—the hook that was exclusively for his hat—and marched out onto the porch, letting the door slam behind him.

Jack stood on the porch, gripping the railing.

Down in the harbor, the Umbria (Ana's ship) bobbed gently on the tide, her sails reefed, and the golden rim on the bow glinting under the afternoon sun. A fine ship. A sturdy ship at that.

Not the Pearl.

He tapped his fingers against the wood.

He wasn't upset. He was Captain Jack Sparrow—currently without a ship, but still. He was above petty domestic squabbles involving stupid yuletide decorations. He didn't care about the house. It wasn't his house. He was a guest. A transient lodger who simply hadn't left for six months. He could leave anytime. He could walk down to the docks, steal a dinghy, and row to Tortuga.

He looked at the empty horizon.

He didn't want to row to Tortuga.

He wanted—

He wasn't sure anymore.

"You're sulking."

Jack jumped, spinning around. Ana was standing in the doorway, the light from the parlor framing her silhouette. She wasn't holding a knife, that—he figured— was a good sign. Instead, she was holding two clay mugs.

"I am not sulking," Jack sniffed, straightening his coat. "I am brooding. There is a nuanced difference. Brooding implies depth."

"You're pouting," she corrected, walking over to him. She shoved one of the mugs into his hand. "Drink."

Jack eyed the steaming brown liquid suspiciously. "Is it poisoned? Have you finally decided to cash in the bounty?"

"It’s chocolate," Ana said, leaning her hip against the railing next to him.

Jack took a tentative sniff. It smelled rich, earthy, and… sweet. He took a sip.

His eyes widened.

It was thick, bittersweet, and hit the back of his throat with a surprising kick of chili heat. But underneath the spice and the cocoa, there was a familiar burn. Good rum, sweet and hot.

"Oh," Jack murmured, taking a second, much larger gulp. The warmth hit his stomach with a comfortable tingle. "Hello."

"It's an Aztec recipe," Ana said quietly, sipping her own. "The chili wakes you up. The rest... settles the nerves."

Jack hummed appreciatively, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders. He slouched a little, letting his arm brush against hers.

"It is... acceptable," he granted.

They stayed there for a moment in the quiet twilight, the only sound the distant waves and the rattle of the wind chimes over their heads.

"I shouldn't have said that," Ana said, looking down into her cup. "About the ship."

Jack waved his free hand dismissively, the gesture loose and magnanimous now that he was half-full of spiced rum.

"Water under the bridge, love".

"Still, it was low," she insisted. "And untrue. The Umbria is yours as much as mine... Jack. And—The house too, you know...?"

"It’s your name on the deed," Jack pointed out, tapping the rim of his mug. "I'm just the decorative element. Like the garland. But better looking." He took another long glup, almost emptiying the cup. "…One could almost tolerate the decorations after three or four of these."

Ana snorted. She reached out, her hand covering his where it rested on the railing. Her fingers were warm.

"You're the First Mate," she said firmly. "On the Umbria and... here. I like when you're around"

Jack turned his hand, to lace his finger's with hers.

"If that's so, perhaps the Captain might provide some… reminders? Later? In the Captain’s quarters?"

Ana chuckled, it was warm laugh that chased away the last of his sulk.

"Perhaps. If the First Mate behaves himself."

"I never behave," Jack promised, leaning in closer. "That’s why you keep me around."

"True" she shortened the distance between them, placing a soft peck on his lips. "But you're still helping me with the rest of the decorations."

Jack sighed mournfully, draining the rest of mug.

"First Mate's duties are never done"

"Nope"

 

⋆꙳❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

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