shyaway (shyaway) wrote in wallflowering, @ 2008-03-20 19:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: potc - gen |
PotC fic: How Jack Sparrow Got His Teeth (Jack, G, 1/1)
Title: How Jack Sparrow Got His Teeth
Author: shyaway
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and its characters are owned by Disney.
Summary: See title.
It wasn't his fault. That purse had been sitting all unattended and lonely-like on the inn's bar and he'd thought no one wanted it. He'd meant only to do the proprietor a service by taking it out of his way. So he'd said to the innkeeper and the article's owner when he found his wrists in their irate clutches, anyway. The purse had been unaccompanied but not unwatched, and its owner, having no time for dark skinny youths making violent protestations of innocence, flung the pilferer out onto the street with a hefty (overly so, in its victim's opinion) clout to the mouth.
Jack got up, spitting blood and teeth. He fished around in the mud for the lost incisors until an approaching carriage forced him to retreat to the edge of the road. It took him not even a moment's deliberation to decide where to go next; he made his way around the inn to its stables, where a low roof, a handy barrel and some easily-grasped thatched straw granted him access to their summit - which by a happy stroke of fate was overlooked by the upper windows of the inn. He edged his way along the roof, steadied by a hand against the inn wall, peering into the windows as he went. At the fourth, he struck gold: there, draped across the bed, was the coat that his assailant had been wearing earlier on his arrival at the inn. (Jack watched the wealthier patrons of this establishment sometimes, for entirely innocent reasons of course; he just liked looking at their pretty clothes and had no ulterior motives whatsoever.) He examined the casement, wiggled a pane of glass loose, slipped his arm through, opened the window, and was inside in a trice.
A search of the chamber yielded - oh - greater riches than would have been found in a measly purse. A couple of gold signet rings, which he turned over and over in his palm; ugly things in themselves, but - Jack thought, probing at the raw gaps in his mouth with his tongue - he could find them a nice, devastatingly attractive home.