Pirates of the Caribbean Oneshots

London

London.

The home of some of the wealthiest people in England and one of Edward Teague's least favourite places on Earth.

Its one redeeming factor was that he'd met his wife here, over three decades ago, and she was the reason he was back in it again, as she had some unknown business to attend to, and he'd decided to wait for her in the city rather than stay on the ship.

Sidestepping a steaming pile of fresh dung, he tilted his hat a little lower, fixed his cuffs and quickened his pace.

Belatedly, he realised that he probably should have shaved and done something about his hair, but it was too late now.

He was walking through the streets of London in full pirate attire, complete with weaponry, a stones-throw away from the palace of the King.

Roxanne's voice, her English accent back in all its posh glory, echoed in his head, light with teasing.
"Enjoy the sights of London and before you judge any of these "stuck-up bastards" remember that I was one of them once. I shouldn't be more than a few hours."

She'd waved a gloved hand from the top of the steps outside a house where the carriage had stopped, blowing him a kiss as he'd ducked down a side street, seeking an escape before he was recognised.

He'd spent most of the day in a tavern which didn't seem to care what kind of people its customers were, a rare thing in London, especially this particular part of it.

Eventually, he stepped out for some air and rolled his eyes slightly as a familiar figure dropped from where he'd been hanging on a sign just up the street.

A redcoat stepped forward, a rifle in hand.
"Filthy pirate."

He cocked the rifle, but Teague shot first, sending him falling to his knees, then slumped forward, motionless.

Jack turned, looking grateful but bewildered.

Teague stepped forward, touching his hat in greeting.
"Hello Jackie."

Jack smiled, gold teeth flashing.
"Hello Dad."

Together, they returned to the rowdy, smokey tavern where Teague had been killing time and listening to English gossip while waiting for Roxanne.

Ordering himself another wine and a rum for Jack, he sat back in the high-backed leather chair he'd been occupying since his arrival.

After studying his son for several seconds, he decided to address the rumours he'd heard in the tavern during the day.

"I heard you're puttin' together a crew."

Jack, evasive under direct questioning, replied, "If enough people keep saying it, it must be true."

Teague suppressed a snort with difficulty and kept talking.
"I heard where you're headed. The Fountain."

"Have you been there?"
Jack's eyes had a slight glint of eagerness as they met his. So the Fountain information was correct.

"Does this face look like it's been to the Fountain of Youth?"
He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his tone, wondering if Jack would give a sarcastic answer.

"Depends on the light."

"Very diplomatic, your mum would be proud of that one." Teague thought with an inward grin at Jack's response, which reminded him both of Roxanne's way of dealing with stupid questions and Soracha's sarcastic teasing.

Getting himself back on topic, he sat closer and looked at Jack steadily over the flickering candle that illuminated their table.

"Son, the Fountain. There'll be items required for the profane ritual. Two chalices-"

"On the map, there was a chalice," Jack said, as though remembering.

"Two, silver." Teague shifted in his chair to get comfortable again. "From the Ponce de León ship. You'll need both."

"For?"

"The ritual." Teague leaned forward, shaking his head slightly. "Don't be a fool, Jackie. Find out every detail before you set sail."

"Oh, set sail. Love to. But for that, I may need a ship."

"Those folk, over there," Teague moved his head just slightly to indicate direction, "they have a ship. They're signin' up sailors right now."

This was one of many things he'd learned while sitting in this smokey little tavern.

Jack turned to look at the crowd of singers but Teague, who had spotted a familiar figure through the tavern window, spoke again.

"And one last thing Jackie. The Fountain will test you. Mark my words."

He raised his tankard, toasted his son and drained his wine before rising quickly and slipping through the crowd to the door while Jack was looking the other way.

Roxanne, standing patiently in the street, greeted him with a nod to keep up her act, which he returned.

He started to walk, reaching the Troubadour and boarding it, with Roxanne hitching up her skirts and accepting his hand aboard after him.

Together, they headed to the captain's cabin, closing the door.

"Did ye get everything done?" he asked, watching as she started to unpin her hair.

"I did," she replied, her hair now falling loose in soft brown waves down her back, which she pulled over her shoulder as she turned her back to him.

Kissing her head, he began to unlace her dress.
"I saved Jackie's arse an' had a conversation with him regarding the Fountain of Youth," he said, finishing helping her with the dress.

Roxanne slipped out of the dress and shift, crossing to the wardrobe, completely nude.
"What about the Fountain?" she asked, putting on drawers and breeches before flipping her head forward to keep her hair out of the way while she wrapped her breasts.

He stood leaning against the desk, his gaze sweeping over the white scars that marred her back, feeling, as he always did upon seeing them, partly responsible for every mark that now covered her skin.

"Not much. Just about the chalices an' pointed him to where he could get a ship."

"You didn't tell about the ritual itself?" Roxanne raised an eyebrow as she straightened again, her hair tumbling over her bare shoulders.

He shook his head, fishing a gold ring set with a large, raw obsidian out of his pocket.

Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles as he replaced the ring on her wedding finger. Then he reached up to finger the gold Celtic pendant shaped like a heart that rested between her breasts.

"Ye better finish gettin' dressed," he murmured "or you're goin' to end up distractin' your captain and then he might have to punish ye."

Roxanne smirked and swayed her hips.

He grinned, looking her over.

"My captain's far too easily distracted."

"Only ever by ye, Asthore," Teague countered with a soft smile.

He turned to the door, then glanced back. "I'll go set the course, then I'm available for as much distraction as you want to provide."