herotypical | ooc ↻ appointments & messages

He tried to help her with that knot. Jack was excellent with knots. "Hmmm? Aye. I know who he is."

After a moment or two, she surrendered all unknotting efforts unto him.

"What have your seagulls told you about him, then?" She just-about-joked.

Jack considered his answer as he drew breaths of pine-scented air and swiftly untied her sarong. "They've told me he's got himself buried high up in Luceti's strategical hierarchy. And he's all the more formidable for that."

He draped the loosened fabric around her shoulders.

She met his eyes and communicated her gratitude with them instead of with her words. Her words were still in the service of other business.

"That's about where my intel plateaus, too. I don't like it when people know more about me than I do about them. Makes me feel all creeped on."

The wind picked at her new cape's corners and so she secured it around her neck with two pinched fingers.

"Tell me."

She spoke her next few lines with astounding stability. It was a good sign.

"I had Albert proxy my warning to the village 'cause, as you very probably figured our right around the same time you figured out what happened, I wasn't exactly interested in the publicity. Didn't seem to matter. The guy knew it came from me. Or else he guessed. I didn't think I'd given away much..."

Or she was still missing a puzzle piece, perhaps.

"I see."

And Jack vowed to himself to keep a very close eye on Shikama-whatsit from there on in.

"No one else has approached you about it?"

"No one. Either they're well and truly fooled or they're just too polite to ask. I'm okay with both scenarios. 'Cause it's not like I'm afraid of the guy, I just...

Really don't need it getting out. Around town."

It was bad enough that the General had as good as defeated her in the first place. "So far, everyone's been way more worked up about all the other tidbits we've learned. Like about the--" Children. "I'm okay with that continuing to work in my favour."

"Hmmm? About the what?"

Unaware of what he was doing, Jack Sparrow had started pacing. Nervously pacing. He looked up and fixed her with dark, dark eyes.

Meanwhile, she worked through her own agitation by striding forward. And by falling back on some diplomatic wording: "You know. Just the fact that the TP grunts have probably spent their whole lives here. Albert was telling me about how they're obviously way more comfortable with this dimension's natural cycles than we are."

"Ah.

About the children."

A small bit of black heart broke off and tumbled down to the gravel path beneath Jack's feet. Not the first, no -- not since that announcement.

"I suppose....Wolfwood. Anyone else with wee little ones. Archie and......

They'll...they'll have to keep a good eye on them."

In an effort to make it better, she very well might make it worse. "I don't think it's like a...natural state for any child ever. I mean -- the General was big on stressing that potential recruits had to be, ah, ready."

But Buffy agreed with Albert. It was hard to ignore the inherent homelessness of those born here, in this world.

"Still. No wonder the Malnosso are experimenting with world anchors..."

"No wonder indeed." He walked quietly at her side, trying to kill the agitation and reclaim the peace. "I hope for their sake...for Kennedy an' Liz...they get it right."

"For their sake. Right. Of course."

She could just about make Seven's shape in the distance. Buffy picked up her pace and opted not to remember the bizarre day when Giles had tried to tell her that he'd played privy to a Luceti-future that had turned her into a mother.

Buffy found the drive towards protectiveness bad enough when it was Dawn. Surely, motherhood would crack her into a couple of pieces. And with this new risk involved...No.

Her MO remained one of staunch avoidance.

"If the soon-to-eventually-be-newlyweds knew what was best for them, they'd..." She felt the shells grind together in her fist.

"Let's use the window."

They'd what? Not....not bear a child together? Jack drummed his fingers against his belt and stared up at the window: his personal private entrance to Seven, as he saw it.

"I think he'd make a good father. Kennedy."

Sure, Archie was dead. But if the risk was real than none of then could afford the selfishness. And if Elizabeth was just going to go back to get married otherwise, then...

"The point's a little moot, isn't it? God. It's like everyone's decided that right here and right now is when they need to figure these things out. Katara's too young to be a grandma and Archie's too deceased to be a dad and Winry dumped Haruhi 'cause they won't have kids and..."

And she was more than a little sick of it. Not even Norrington had done her the favour of being properly annoyed with the prospect of children. Nope -- he'd gone so far as to suggest that Luceti was a great place to start a family.

She pushed the window open. "In you go."

"You've decided," he pointed out. Then: "Ladies first."

"Nah. Injured first. I insist."

"Most beautiful beloved women first."

She cupped his cheek with her empty palm. "If I said climb in before I throw you in, would you take me seriously? 'Cause I can at least really really pretend like I mean it."

"I always take you seriously, Buffy." He turned his head to give her palm a brief kiss before hoisting himself up and in.

"That must have been your first mistake," she quipped. And if she also managed to sneak a pat on that fine pirate ass, it was probably because tight-rope walking the thin wire between depressing argument and steamy make-out sesh was practically an instinctive skill.

Otherwise, she soon followed. Her own climb was mostly one-handed, but soon she deposited her fistful of shells onto her vanity's surface. They clicked against the wood with quiet, skittering sounds.

"B-R-B. Gonna go grab the promised frozen peas."

"Hurry." Jack was already stripping off his shirt. He wanted to look after her as much as she wanted to look after him. He wanted to forget all that about children and Third Party warriors and newlyweds and decisions for the night.

He wandered to the window and peered out as he continued undressing, looping his belt over a chair and leaning his sword with care in the corner.

She'd hardly brought so many things with her to the beach, that day. Herself. Her flip-flops. The sarong and a loose wife-beater over her bathing suit. The weather had allowed it. Now, she deposited the sandals by the door and tossed the shirt into the laundry room. All else could wait.

At least the house was quiet. It wasn't too late, though...perhaps people were out. Elsewhere. And Buffy knew she ought to patrol, but she had a pirate to tend to. And she preferred to not be alone, tonight.

She grabbed a bag of mixed frozen vegetables from the freezer and wrapped it in a dishcloth. This was a dear enough step, wasn't it? Living together -- practically. Up until the house was completed and the decision-making had to start all over again. Buffy crunched the shielded back under her fingers, breaking up bits of stuck-together peas and carrots and corn.

The Slayer was still doing so when she re-entered the room.

"Hallo." He hadn't got as far as his trousers, yet. "You've brought vegetables."

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