[ Jack, for his part, would be entirely content for the two of them to make their quota with each other, and carry on an illicit dom/dom relationship without being bothered by anyone...but that's not how this is going to work, is it? Aphrodisiacs are in the air everywhere you go, the deadline for them both to find a contract is going to loom larger as the weeks pass, and that Christmas party proved that if this place wants them to do something, it has its ways of forcing it.
And so. There is a reality they can both see, going unacknowledged, and seeing as Jack is by far the more talkative of the two, it'll be up to him to drag it into the light. The levee was already broken, as far as he's concerned, in another world, in another time, when Anne realized that she needed something Jack couldn't give, but the ground has crumbled beneath their feet since then and been replaced with something unfamiliar...and he's not sure how it changes things yet.
In his defense, he brings it up casually. No serious sit-down, 'we need to talk' dramatic inquiries. He's on the couch, feet up on the table and peeking into a bag of one of modernity's many small pleasures: potato chips. ]
[ Anne stares at him from over the lip of her glass. She's tucked herself up in the lone armchair, which is a little too boxy and stiff for comfort but it's better than nothing. The look she throws at him is openly suspicious, but she has no real reason to be, not yet. Sometimes she's just suspicious in general, that's all. ]
[ Anne's face is rather sour by default, but it appears even moreso, by a notch or two. Doesn't bother him. She's got to have thought the same thing at some point, he's sure. It's the nature of this place. ]
Simply curious, that's all. Before we set sail to take the gold, you made it clear to me that your business with Max was not merely a passing whim. You've got an itch that I can't scratch.
[ He says, between popping delicious, salty junk into his mouth, making himself sound silly, as to not sound accusatory, or worse, insecure about the whole revelation. ]
You need someone that can, and you need a contract, hence the question. Of fucking Submissives.
[ Believe it or not, she's been thinking about it. Not like she can get out from under it, really, but if it's on her mind it's somewhere at the back, in some dark and dusty corner, where other things go that she doesn't like to waste time pondering. Max was there too, up until Jack said her name, and Anne reacts to it physically, shifting in her seat and taking a hearty sip of her drink. ]
I know I need a fucking contract, Jack, I ain't stupid.
[ She has a feeling she knows where this conversation's going, but since he brought it up, he can voice the unsaid thing first. ]
[ The uncomfortable shift doesn't go unnoticed. Jack sighs in response, leaving the bag of chips on the table and moving to sit properly, leaning forward, elbows on thighs with his hands clasped together, studying her. He was hoping this would be a frank conversation, not a tiptoeing one. ]
I'm not calling you stupid. I am inquiring as to your progress, because I care quite deeply about your welfare, so kindly unclench and just talk to me, please.
[ He can. He will. But he's hoping they can agree on the obvious first, before wading into anything stickier, because that's not always a given with Anne. ]
[ Her shoulders slouch, just a little, just enough. The walls aren't up for him, they're just up all the time in a place like this, and it's hard to knock them down enough to let him in too. ]
There is no progress.
[ It's not really shameful to admit it, since it's not something she's really interested in doing. She'll drag her feet right up until the last possible second. ]
Only person I've even fucked since we got here is you.
[ He's always had the idea in the back of his head that he might have to lend her a hand in getting something arranged, which he isn't bothered by, but since he's yet to secure anything for himself, the idea of having to charm some girl and then tell her to sign her life away to his hot-heated partner gives him a headache.
That little plot can be fixed later. Anne's answer is...a shock in some ways, but in others, astoundingly obvious, that although his expectation of fidelity is dead and buried a hundred feet underneath that cursed brothel, things are different here. Maybe she doesn't feel comfortable enough here, or Max really was a special case, or the stresses of this place have renewed her commitment. Whatever the reason, he nibbles the inside of his lip, ashamed to find himself pleased with her answer. It's selfish, he knows, considering the sort of relationships this city runs on, and of course: ]
Alright. I must confess to you, then, that I cannot say the same.
[ His mouth rests against his clasped hands right as it comes out, and he looks at Anne with wide eyes and eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. ]
[ Anne's lips pull down tight at the corners, and her jaw works for a moment before it stops, set firm, teeth gritted. She's reserving judgement right now, but how long that'll last even she doesn't know. ]
[ Long enough to ask a question instead of revert to a knee-jerk fuck you, jack is about as good as he expected. He relaxes a little, unceasing his hands and crossing his arms in front of him instead, leaning back against the couch. ]
Woman called Ducky. Petite, long hair always done up tight. Looks very demure and proper...isn't.
[ Verging on too much information, maybe, but he's not trying to hide anything. ]
[ It's the first thing out of her mouth and at first even Anne isn't quite sure why she said it. She's looking at Jack a little differently now – not like he cheated on her, because she's not precious enough to feel unsettled about that. If there's a choice to be made, it won't be for some woman he's fucked, not over Anne. Choosing Max was different. And he's here now, isn't he?
No, that knee-jerk reaction had nothing to do with the simple fact of acknowledging where Jack shoves his dick when it's not in his pants, and almost incredulously Anne leans forward a little, her hair swinging down over her shoulder with the movement. ]
I kissed her. In the middle of the fucking street.
[ It's still as surprising to her as it is to him now; she can remember doing it, bending down to press her lips to Ducky's, but it doesn't entirely seem like her own actions. She'd asked first, and she'd wanted to kiss her, and Ducky had said yes. But still. ]
Dunno what the fuck came over me. I just saw her and I wanted to.
[ She felt like it so she did it. Why not? The how of it all isn't all that important anyway, but it does make him wonder. He taps his fingers absently against the arm of the couch. ]
Moving fast, then, aren't you? [ He clicks his tongue, thinking back. ] That was before I first fucked her. You think she's up to something, messing around with both of us, but seperately? That, or she's heard some exaggerated pirate stories and now she's got a fetish out of it.
[ Anne swallows and it sticks in her throat. At first it'd just been a matter of clearing the air between them, but now she can't help wondering if there might be something to what he's saying. No matter where they are, there's a woman getting between them, whether it's on purpose or not. ]
I don't give a shit who you fuck. [ That's not entirely true. Anne grimaces, shakes her head. Fuck, she hates this. She hates all the talking, trying to explain what's going on in her head in ways that make sense to him. They understand each other practically fluently, but there are parts of her written in a language that Jack can't read, and it'd be stupid not to think the same of him too. ] I didn't mean that. I just meant it wouldn't be fair for me to do what I did with Max and not cut you the same slack.
[ But...but. It's not really the same, is it? Max was Anne's place to bring out a part of herself that had been repressed for a long time. Jack doesn't need this like that. He's just doing it because it feels good, so he's got something to do besides drink or fret about how fucked they are.
He stands, crossing over the table to Anne, and crouches beside her, hands on her knee, chin on his hands. ]
However, it isn't the same as you and Max, so I'm not sure if fairness is truly a factor here. I could put an end to it at any time. [ If she proves to be untrustworthy, if she crosses Anne, if he gets fucking bored. Doesn't matter. Nothing matters more than Anne's happiness, and the fact that it so often seems elusive makes him want to fetch it for her even more. ] Unless you'd rather share, darling.
[ The way he's crouched, practically on his knees, makes Anne wonder if he feels guilty about this. If he's felt guilty about it for however much time it's been since he fucked her. It makes her shift her gaze, just for a moment. She doesn't like to think that he did something that requires penance. He didn't. ]
I don't know her. She's nobody to me. Just a pretty face.
[ She looks back at him then, her gaze a little softer. Imperceptible to most, but he'll see it. It's only ever really for him. ]
[ Penance might be too strong a word, but he does feel some sort of way about it. It wasn't that long ago that he thought he would never see again, after being partners since they were fucking kids, because he chose another woman's side, one he wasn't even fucking without Anne present. He'll slit his own throat before knowingly doing anything to hurt her like that again.
It's not quite guilt, yet. It's questioning, feeling out the boundaries they haven't communicated because they haven't even figured them out for themselves. And he can see her so much clearer from up close. ]
Hard to say. She's interesting. Comes from a shipping family, there might be something Oedipal happening. [ He drums his fingers against her leg, a gentle smile up at her to match, let her know he sees it. ] It's just a bit of fun, for now.
[ Anne's not insecure enough to snatch at that and demand further explanations. It'd be easy to do it, though — a bit of fun, as if she can't give it to him. Well, she knows there's things she can't give him, for example the lazy, unthinking thrill of fucking someone who doesn't know you inside out. ]
Alright. Just tell me if that changes.
[ A pause, lips pressed together. ]
I know I need a contract. I just—
[ She runs her teeth over her bottom lip, shaking her head almost without thinking about it. ]
[ Oh, they've had plenty of fun, in between the struggle and the chaos. But different dynamics, different ways of knowing one another, different kinds of fun. He can't put on a face, pretend to be someone more dashing or more competent or more dominant than he really is, with Anne. There's no costume she won't see through to the bones of him. There is a thrill to fucking someone who doesn't know who he was before he was Jack Rackham, from the history books. ]
I will.
[ He's confident it won't come to that, but even if it weren't it's it's easy promise to make. ]
The shit I did to get Max out of that tent 'cause Hamund thought he fucking owned her. Thought she was his property. Made me feel sick. Still does.
[ The distaste is plain on her face and in her voice. When she'd told Max she hadn't done it for her, that wasn't cold defensiveness bubbling up to the surface, at least not entirely. She'd done it for herself too, just to prove to herself that she could. That she could be to someone else what Jack was to her. ]
I don't like it. The idea of putting my fucking name on someone like that. [ And before he says anything — ] I know it's different. I know I have to do it or they'll fuck me for it, and I know I can make it so there's freedom in the contract. But it's still fucking owning someone.
[ Of course. A horrible lapse of judgement on his part, ever letting that occur, not seeing what it was doing to Anne. Sometimes, seeing her be so strong for so long, it's easy to forget where he found her. That she carries the same traumas, the same anger as so many other women, even though she's capable of running with the most hardened of men. ]
Of course.
[ His voice is soft, understanding. He's not so thrilled about the prospect of owning another person either, but he figures if the deal is going to be made, he'd rather not be the one getting the shit end. ]
I suppose...all you can do is make it as loosely binding as possible. I wish we wouldn't have to. But I will not see you jailed over it.
[ Jack rubs slowly at her thigh with the palm of his hand. Nothing seductive about it, just firm. A comforting hand, because he knows. He knows where she's been, where Charles had been, where he almost was, and wouldn't wish it on anyone he felt confident in enough to invite into his home. What a nasty bundle of contradictions, this whole place is. ]
[ She makes a promise to herself, here and now, that she won't let it happen, not when it's this easy to avoid. All she has to do is swallow her pride for a bit. It's not just for her sake, either – they're in this together, even if they're on the same side of the divide, and she knows Jack won't just sit here twiddling his thumbs if she's carted off to prison in the middle of the night because she couldn't find a contract in time. It'd have been easier if they'd been separated, maybe, then one of them could just have contracted the other and that'd be the end of it. ]
[ Jack shakes his head, and gets comfortable on his knees, cheek still resting against Anne's leg. It's warm enough to make him feel comfortable, even sitting on the floor. ]
She's got a contract already. I'm stuck, same as you.
[ Jack hasn't met him, but he apparently doesn't give a shit about her and Jack hooking up in their home, so it works just fine for him, even if it's not getting him anywhere towards establishing himself enough to keep the authorities off his back. ]
[ Jack snorts, shaking his head against her leg and rumbling with one of the only good laughs he's had since they got here. ]
Good God. Can you imagine? She'd probably own this place by now and be fucking insufferable about it.
'Oh, Jack, what eez stopping yooo from azzembling an army of Submissivez at your beck and call? You've got what? Too much pride, too much self-rezpekt to be a walking headache with tits? Your loss, my friend, your loss.'
[ Alright, up he goes, grabbing the arms of the chair to lean in and press a sweet little smooch against Anne's forehead before he's on his feet proper, and reaching for the phone he's left on the table. ]
Did you know you can use this thing to get someone to bring food to your home? Want to give it a go?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
breaking it in!!!
And so. There is a reality they can both see, going unacknowledged, and seeing as Jack is by far the more talkative of the two, it'll be up to him to drag it into the light. The levee was already broken, as far as he's concerned, in another world, in another time, when Anne realized that she needed something Jack couldn't give, but the ground has crumbled beneath their feet since then and been replaced with something unfamiliar...and he's not sure how it changes things yet.
In his defense, he brings it up casually. No serious sit-down, 'we need to talk' dramatic inquiries. He's on the couch, feet up on the table and peeking into a bag of one of modernity's many small pleasures: potato chips. ]
Hopped into bed with any Submissives yet?
[ The smoothest. ]
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No. Why?
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Simply curious, that's all. Before we set sail to take the gold, you made it clear to me that your business with Max was not merely a passing whim. You've got an itch that I can't scratch.
[ He says, between popping delicious, salty junk into his mouth, making himself sound silly, as to not sound accusatory, or worse, insecure about the whole revelation. ]
You need someone that can, and you need a contract, hence the question. Of fucking Submissives.
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I know I need a fucking contract, Jack, I ain't stupid.
[ She has a feeling she knows where this conversation's going, but since he brought it up, he can voice the unsaid thing first. ]
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I'm not calling you stupid. I am inquiring as to your progress, because I care quite deeply about your welfare, so kindly unclench and just talk to me, please.
[ He can. He will. But he's hoping they can agree on the obvious first, before wading into anything stickier, because that's not always a given with Anne. ]
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There is no progress.
[ It's not really shameful to admit it, since it's not something she's really interested in doing. She'll drag her feet right up until the last possible second. ]
Only person I've even fucked since we got here is you.
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That little plot can be fixed later. Anne's answer is...a shock in some ways, but in others, astoundingly obvious, that although his expectation of fidelity is dead and buried a hundred feet underneath that cursed brothel, things are different here. Maybe she doesn't feel comfortable enough here, or Max really was a special case, or the stresses of this place have renewed her commitment. Whatever the reason, he nibbles the inside of his lip, ashamed to find himself pleased with her answer. It's selfish, he knows, considering the sort of relationships this city runs on, and of course: ]
Alright. I must confess to you, then, that I cannot say the same.
[ His mouth rests against his clasped hands right as it comes out, and he looks at Anne with wide eyes and eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. ]
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Who?
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Woman called Ducky. Petite, long hair always done up tight. Looks very demure and proper...isn't.
[ Verging on too much information, maybe, but he's not trying to hide anything. ]
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[ It's the first thing out of her mouth and at first even Anne isn't quite sure why she said it. She's looking at Jack a little differently now – not like he cheated on her, because she's not precious enough to feel unsettled about that. If there's a choice to be made, it won't be for some woman he's fucked, not over Anne. Choosing Max was different. And he's here now, isn't he?
No, that knee-jerk reaction had nothing to do with the simple fact of acknowledging where Jack shoves his dick when it's not in his pants, and almost incredulously Anne leans forward a little, her hair swinging down over her shoulder with the movement. ]
I kissed her. In the middle of the fucking street.
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Sorry, when was this? And why, in the middle of the street?
[ Not that the location matters any, but it doesn't seem very like Anne to do so. ]
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[ It's still as surprising to her as it is to him now; she can remember doing it, bending down to press her lips to Ducky's, but it doesn't entirely seem like her own actions. She'd asked first, and she'd wanted to kiss her, and Ducky had said yes. But still. ]
Dunno what the fuck came over me. I just saw her and I wanted to.
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Moving fast, then, aren't you? [ He clicks his tongue, thinking back. ] That was before I first fucked her. You think she's up to something, messing around with both of us, but seperately? That, or she's heard some exaggerated pirate stories and now she's got a fetish out of it.
[ Really hoping for the latter. ]
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[ Anne swallows and it sticks in her throat. At first it'd just been a matter of clearing the air between them, but now she can't help wondering if there might be something to what he's saying. No matter where they are, there's a woman getting between them, whether it's on purpose or not. ]
I don't give a shit who you fuck. [ That's not entirely true. Anne grimaces, shakes her head. Fuck, she hates this. She hates all the talking, trying to explain what's going on in her head in ways that make sense to him. They understand each other practically fluently, but there are parts of her written in a language that Jack can't read, and it'd be stupid not to think the same of him too. ] I didn't mean that. I just meant it wouldn't be fair for me to do what I did with Max and not cut you the same slack.
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[ But...but. It's not really the same, is it? Max was Anne's place to bring out a part of herself that had been repressed for a long time. Jack doesn't need this like that. He's just doing it because it feels good, so he's got something to do besides drink or fret about how fucked they are.
He stands, crossing over the table to Anne, and crouches beside her, hands on her knee, chin on his hands. ]
However, it isn't the same as you and Max, so I'm not sure if fairness is truly a factor here. I could put an end to it at any time. [ If she proves to be untrustworthy, if she crosses Anne, if he gets fucking bored. Doesn't matter. Nothing matters more than Anne's happiness, and the fact that it so often seems elusive makes him want to fetch it for her even more. ] Unless you'd rather share, darling.
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I don't know her. She's nobody to me. Just a pretty face.
[ She looks back at him then, her gaze a little softer. Imperceptible to most, but he'll see it. It's only ever really for him. ]
Does it mean something to you?
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It's not quite guilt, yet. It's questioning, feeling out the boundaries they haven't communicated because they haven't even figured them out for themselves. And he can see her so much clearer from up close. ]
Hard to say. She's interesting. Comes from a shipping family, there might be something Oedipal happening. [ He drums his fingers against her leg, a gentle smile up at her to match, let her know he sees it. ] It's just a bit of fun, for now.
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Alright. Just tell me if that changes.
[ A pause, lips pressed together. ]
I know I need a contract. I just—
[ She runs her teeth over her bottom lip, shaking her head almost without thinking about it. ]
Feel like a fucking hypocrite. I can't help it.
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I will.
[ He's confident it won't come to that, but even if it weren't it's it's easy promise to make. ]
A hypocrite? Over what?
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[ The distaste is plain on her face and in her voice. When she'd told Max she hadn't done it for her, that wasn't cold defensiveness bubbling up to the surface, at least not entirely. She'd done it for herself too, just to prove to herself that she could. That she could be to someone else what Jack was to her. ]
I don't like it. The idea of putting my fucking name on someone like that. [ And before he says anything — ] I know it's different. I know I have to do it or they'll fuck me for it, and I know I can make it so there's freedom in the contract. But it's still fucking owning someone.
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Of course.
[ His voice is soft, understanding. He's not so thrilled about the prospect of owning another person either, but he figures if the deal is going to be made, he'd rather not be the one getting the shit end. ]
I suppose...all you can do is make it as loosely binding as possible. I wish we wouldn't have to. But I will not see you jailed over it.
[ Jack rubs slowly at her thigh with the palm of his hand. Nothing seductive about it, just firm. A comforting hand, because he knows. He knows where she's been, where Charles had been, where he almost was, and wouldn't wish it on anyone he felt confident in enough to invite into his home. What a nasty bundle of contradictions, this whole place is. ]
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[ She makes a promise to herself, here and now, that she won't let it happen, not when it's this easy to avoid. All she has to do is swallow her pride for a bit. It's not just for her sake, either – they're in this together, even if they're on the same side of the divide, and she knows Jack won't just sit here twiddling his thumbs if she's carted off to prison in the middle of the night because she couldn't find a contract in time. It'd have been easier if they'd been separated, maybe, then one of them could just have contracted the other and that'd be the end of it. ]
Are you contracting her, then? Ducky.
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She's got a contract already. I'm stuck, same as you.
[ Jack hasn't met him, but he apparently doesn't give a shit about her and Jack hooking up in their home, so it works just fine for him, even if it's not getting him anywhere towards establishing himself enough to keep the authorities off his back. ]
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I'm glad Max ain't here.
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Good God. Can you imagine? She'd probably own this place by now and be fucking insufferable about it.
'Oh, Jack, what eez stopping yooo from azzembling an army of Submissivez at your beck and call? You've got what? Too much pride, too much self-rezpekt to be a walking headache with tits? Your loss, my friend, your loss.'
[ Alright, up he goes, grabbing the arms of the chair to lean in and press a sweet little smooch against Anne's forehead before he's on his feet proper, and reaching for the phone he's left on the table. ]
Did you know you can use this thing to get someone to bring food to your home? Want to give it a go?
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