more pirates
Jul. 22nd, 2003 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psocopteraPicks up where the first bit left off.
One of the perfectly balanced butter knives is clenched in the fist of a
sometimes-graceful hand, and the hand's owner is wondering if she'd do
better hurling one of the candlesticks.
It has been three weeks, Elizabeth thinks, three weeks since Will said he
should have told her every day that he loved her. He has *not* told her
every day. In fact, he hasn't mentioned the subject since. And never
mind the telling, what she'd really like is a demonstration? Or two? Or
ten?
Her estimation of his piracy seems to have been quite overblown. He's
kissed her twice. *Twice*. Once at the fort, on the cliff, right where
Jack had fallen over minutes earlier, and yes, extraordinary
circumstances, hardly to be expected on a daily basis (at least now Jack's
gone, a bit of her mind points out), but it had been simply lovely. And
once a week later, when she had shown up at the smithery unexpectedly and
hung very close over a bit of turnspit, inspecting it minutely, slowly
leaning in and in and in until she looked up inches from Will's eyes and
he'd leaned the rest of the way. But after a few awkward seconds he had
backed away and apologized. Apologized! It was enough to make a woman
run mad! Here she is, Elizabeth thinks, in his *house*, *dining* with him
*alone*, *unchaperoned*, for the *fifth time in two weeks*, and he's off
puttering around with the supper dishes! *How* is this the expression of
the buccaneering spirit? She could not, Elizabeth thinks, put herself
more in harm's way if she showed up at his door with a sign round her neck
reading "plunder me now", which, come to think of it, was something to
keep in mind.
Will is a perfect gentleman as he sees her to the door, and Elizabeth
finds herself thinking about rum.
***
Will sets down the heavy clay plates with a thump and stares at them
unseeing. The shop, the house, Elizabeth sitting at his table looking
like an angel in the candlelight... it's all come together for him, and
now all he has to do is do everything right.
***
One of the perfectly balanced butter knives is clenched in the fist of a
sometimes-graceful hand, and the hand's owner is wondering if she'd do
better hurling one of the candlesticks.
It has been three weeks, Elizabeth thinks, three weeks since Will said he
should have told her every day that he loved her. He has *not* told her
every day. In fact, he hasn't mentioned the subject since. And never
mind the telling, what she'd really like is a demonstration? Or two? Or
ten?
Her estimation of his piracy seems to have been quite overblown. He's
kissed her twice. *Twice*. Once at the fort, on the cliff, right where
Jack had fallen over minutes earlier, and yes, extraordinary
circumstances, hardly to be expected on a daily basis (at least now Jack's
gone, a bit of her mind points out), but it had been simply lovely. And
once a week later, when she had shown up at the smithery unexpectedly and
hung very close over a bit of turnspit, inspecting it minutely, slowly
leaning in and in and in until she looked up inches from Will's eyes and
he'd leaned the rest of the way. But after a few awkward seconds he had
backed away and apologized. Apologized! It was enough to make a woman
run mad! Here she is, Elizabeth thinks, in his *house*, *dining* with him
*alone*, *unchaperoned*, for the *fifth time in two weeks*, and he's off
puttering around with the supper dishes! *How* is this the expression of
the buccaneering spirit? She could not, Elizabeth thinks, put herself
more in harm's way if she showed up at his door with a sign round her neck
reading "plunder me now", which, come to think of it, was something to
keep in mind.
Will is a perfect gentleman as he sees her to the door, and Elizabeth
finds herself thinking about rum.
***
Will sets down the heavy clay plates with a thump and stares at them
unseeing. The shop, the house, Elizabeth sitting at his table looking
like an angel in the candlelight... it's all come together for him, and
now all he has to do is do everything right.
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-07-22 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-22 07:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-22 10:01 pm (UTC)*shouts at Elizabeth and waves her PotC shot glasses she bought at Disney World*