But What Became of Captain Jack Sparrow?
Nov. 13th, 2010 01:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ericadawn16Title: When All the Stars Were Falling
Characters: Ianto, Jack, James, Martha, Gwen Jack/Ianto
Rated: PG-13 ANGST MPREG AU
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: James continues to cope with his new world.
Author's Note: This has nothing to do with Iefan or Knocked Up or their stories. Starts after Exit Wounds. This is a crossover with Pirates of the Caribbean. Okay, I admit it. This is a fix-it fic for Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End Yay, Norrington! This also contains spoilers for the young Jack Sparrow series, but not so much for the second series.
Previous Chapter: Heart to Heart by the Weevil
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/140297.html
But What Became of Captain Jack Sparrow?
Jack took out a tranquilizer and injected it into the alien although it seemed to have been knocked out cold from the tackling or something. James started breathing really hard and there was confusion in his green eyes when he stated, “I did it.”
“That you did, James,” Jack agreed and clasped his shoulders before easing him up, “Let’s take him back and see if we can hear anything on the other one…Ianto, is there any clean-up here?”
He scanned the area and saw a couple of blokes of university age watching them. Otherwise, it was clear.
“Just those two there, go on ahead and I’ll find my way back,” he spoke and Jack frowned, but left with the others. However, it didn’t surprise him when Jack drove up later to pick him up.
"You didn't..." Ianto said, getting into the vehicle.
"Oh, you were on the way," Jack spoke.
"The way to what?" he asked and saw his lover's grin.
"Your bed," Jack replied which produced a roll of the eyes from Ianto. He'd get even later.
************************************************************
“…and if I hear anything, I’ll let you know…right, bye Andy,” Gwen said into her mobile the next day and ended the call. She didn’t envy him right now. Four people found stabbed to death and the Cardiff police had no leads. She checked her email and frowned. There was one titled (no subject) and sent from James. She knew what it would say before clicking and was right: Have you looked into what I inquired about?
Since it was amazing that he had already learned how to email, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had sent it to the whole team…twice. Still, she pulled up the file of what she found, printed it off and stuck it in her purse. James was at his desk, reading up on Torchwood when she walked up.
“James, how about I take you to lunch today?”
“Re-really?” he stammered. She knew he still wasn’t used to women taking the initiative so she nodded and motioned toward the exit. At Old Orleans, they were seated and the waiter asked for drinks.
“I’d like a Tropical Dreamer,” said Gwen and looked at James who only took a second before answering, “I’d like a glass of wine.”
The waiter’s face wore a thinly disguised look of annoyance.
“Which wine would you like, sir?” he questioned so that Gwen answered, “The most economical.”
James nodded and studied the menu. She already knew exactly what she was getting.
“I’m not familiar with any of these foods except for beef, fish and chicken but they are all with other items,” he complained once the waiter had left. Oh, she hadn’t thought about that. They had taught him what pizza was and that had been mainly what he’d been eating.
“Rhys always gets the Beef Burger, but the wraps are good as well or you could get the Fish and Chips,” she suggested, trying to think what 18th century food was like and drawing a blank.
“What’s a wrap?”
“It’s where they take a bunch of things and put it together so it tastes good,” she told him.
“Like a pizza?” he questioned and she shook her head.
“No, not exactly, more like a sandwich,” she spoke which was also met with a blank stare. He wasn’t even familiar with a sandwich. Patience was escaping her when the waiter arrived with their drinks and set them down. She took a large gulp and wished she had opted for one with alcohol.
“And what will we be having today?” the waiter asked with the huge fake smile.
“Chicken Enchildada,” she replied and they looked at James.
“Fish and chips?” he spoke in an unsure tone which the employee ignored, taking away the menus. Gwen drank some more, savoring the fruity concoction before telling what she didn’t want to. James sipped at his red liquid. Finally, with a sigh, she took out the papers from the purse.
“I looked up the people you asked about…I guess I’ll start at the beginning. Fitzwilliam P. Dalton the Third was convicted of piracy in 1727 and was due to hang in London. However, it is said that your aunt and uncle intervened, possibly using your father’s influence, and he disappeared the night before the hanging,” she told him and James set down the glass, “Never found anything on him after that.”
“His sister, Juliet Dalton, married Hugh Mason and they had several stillbirths or miscarriages before she died during childbirth, taking the baby with her…” she continued, not able to look at him, “which happened in 1728.”
“She was a pretty girl when we were young, everyone said so,” he said in a soft voice, “and she was always kind to me…”
A bad feeling started to settle in her stomach because what he didn’t say was unmistakable. There were plenty who had not been kind to him.
“Elizabeth Turner had at least two children: William James and Weatherby John. When her first son is ten years of age, she and William are listed as living in Carolina with Swanns. Along the way, they move to Virginia where both Elizabeth and Will disappear from public records. This isn’t unheard of for this time. A lot of the records have been lost or were incomplete in the first place,” Gwen explained, trying for an apology.
“And Jamie? His brother?”
“Jamie married a girl named Lucinda and they had eight children: the first being named James and the second named William. James fought in the Revolutionary War that gave the colonies their independence,” she continued because the children had been a bright spot in the researching, “His brother, Weatherby, had three children and moved to Pennsylvania. Unfortunately, they were attacked by Indians so the youngest was killed and the daughter, Elizabeth, was taken. She lived among the Indians as a prisoner until Alexander McCormick rescued her by smuggling her out under furs. They soon married. The lines of Jamie and Weatherby still have descendents in the States.”
With a little smile, he spoke, “she sounds like her grandmother.” Then, he nodded for her to go on.
“Theodore Groves became a Commodore in the British Royal Navy. He never married and died in 1749 from…” Gwen started but stopped when his eyes were downcast. It was obvious that they had worked together so this must be like if she’d been told Ianto was dead.
“We were close…” he whispered and she put a hand on his, “but I need to hear the rest, the other names.”
“The sisters of Joshamee Gibbs married well, but for Mr. Gibbs himself…he’s mentioned as being part of Captain Jack Sparrow’s crew and that is the last anyone hears of him,” she continued, “Barbossa appears to have died three or four times and I couldn’t sort out what was real. He was last seen in Florida among the Spaniards.”
“Arabella Smith…at first, I wondered why you even asked about her. There’s no relation to you or her or any proof that the two of you met. Then, I noticed that she was frequently mentioned in connection with your cousin Fitz. She was hard to find…I don’t believe Arabella Smith is even her real name and there was something…very curious, she was arrested with Fitz but wasn’t hung either. Like your cousin, there’s nothing on her after 1727,” Gwen told him, struggling not to reveal her suspicions that they were connected. She hoped they escaped together and lived happily ever after.
“He and my father held such hatred towards piracy…it’s still surprising that he ended up as one, but I suppose things happen…as I found out for myself…” he spoke, sipping some more. She had noticed there were six months where James’ own whereabouts were unaccounted for so she caught the implication that he engaged in piracy although he had accepted a Privateer position which would amount to the same thing…or at least, that’s what Ianto said when she asked him about it.
“So, that leaves Captain Jack Sparrow…colorful character…found a number of tales on him, including some he’d written himself…claimed in one that his father had saved you from drowning as a young child…” she looked towards the man for some clue as to whether it had really happened, but he remained silent, “As with Barbossa, there’s three or four deaths and nothing confirmed as the truth. He’s sighted as frequently as Elvis and the Flying Dutchman, including last week where people claimed to have spotted him surfing off the coast of Australia with a dog.”
Dread Feet
Characters: Ianto, Jack, James, Martha, Gwen Jack/Ianto
Rated: PG-13 ANGST MPREG AU
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: James continues to cope with his new world.
Author's Note: This has nothing to do with Iefan or Knocked Up or their stories. Starts after Exit Wounds. This is a crossover with Pirates of the Caribbean. Okay, I admit it. This is a fix-it fic for Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End Yay, Norrington! This also contains spoilers for the young Jack Sparrow series, but not so much for the second series.
Previous Chapter: Heart to Heart by the Weevil
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/140297.html
But What Became of Captain Jack Sparrow?
Jack took out a tranquilizer and injected it into the alien although it seemed to have been knocked out cold from the tackling or something. James started breathing really hard and there was confusion in his green eyes when he stated, “I did it.”
“That you did, James,” Jack agreed and clasped his shoulders before easing him up, “Let’s take him back and see if we can hear anything on the other one…Ianto, is there any clean-up here?”
He scanned the area and saw a couple of blokes of university age watching them. Otherwise, it was clear.
“Just those two there, go on ahead and I’ll find my way back,” he spoke and Jack frowned, but left with the others. However, it didn’t surprise him when Jack drove up later to pick him up.
"You didn't..." Ianto said, getting into the vehicle.
"Oh, you were on the way," Jack spoke.
"The way to what?" he asked and saw his lover's grin.
"Your bed," Jack replied which produced a roll of the eyes from Ianto. He'd get even later.
************************************************************
“…and if I hear anything, I’ll let you know…right, bye Andy,” Gwen said into her mobile the next day and ended the call. She didn’t envy him right now. Four people found stabbed to death and the Cardiff police had no leads. She checked her email and frowned. There was one titled (no subject) and sent from James. She knew what it would say before clicking and was right: Have you looked into what I inquired about?
Since it was amazing that he had already learned how to email, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had sent it to the whole team…twice. Still, she pulled up the file of what she found, printed it off and stuck it in her purse. James was at his desk, reading up on Torchwood when she walked up.
“James, how about I take you to lunch today?”
“Re-really?” he stammered. She knew he still wasn’t used to women taking the initiative so she nodded and motioned toward the exit. At Old Orleans, they were seated and the waiter asked for drinks.
“I’d like a Tropical Dreamer,” said Gwen and looked at James who only took a second before answering, “I’d like a glass of wine.”
The waiter’s face wore a thinly disguised look of annoyance.
“Which wine would you like, sir?” he questioned so that Gwen answered, “The most economical.”
James nodded and studied the menu. She already knew exactly what she was getting.
“I’m not familiar with any of these foods except for beef, fish and chicken but they are all with other items,” he complained once the waiter had left. Oh, she hadn’t thought about that. They had taught him what pizza was and that had been mainly what he’d been eating.
“Rhys always gets the Beef Burger, but the wraps are good as well or you could get the Fish and Chips,” she suggested, trying to think what 18th century food was like and drawing a blank.
“What’s a wrap?”
“It’s where they take a bunch of things and put it together so it tastes good,” she told him.
“Like a pizza?” he questioned and she shook her head.
“No, not exactly, more like a sandwich,” she spoke which was also met with a blank stare. He wasn’t even familiar with a sandwich. Patience was escaping her when the waiter arrived with their drinks and set them down. She took a large gulp and wished she had opted for one with alcohol.
“And what will we be having today?” the waiter asked with the huge fake smile.
“Chicken Enchildada,” she replied and they looked at James.
“Fish and chips?” he spoke in an unsure tone which the employee ignored, taking away the menus. Gwen drank some more, savoring the fruity concoction before telling what she didn’t want to. James sipped at his red liquid. Finally, with a sigh, she took out the papers from the purse.
“I looked up the people you asked about…I guess I’ll start at the beginning. Fitzwilliam P. Dalton the Third was convicted of piracy in 1727 and was due to hang in London. However, it is said that your aunt and uncle intervened, possibly using your father’s influence, and he disappeared the night before the hanging,” she told him and James set down the glass, “Never found anything on him after that.”
“His sister, Juliet Dalton, married Hugh Mason and they had several stillbirths or miscarriages before she died during childbirth, taking the baby with her…” she continued, not able to look at him, “which happened in 1728.”
“She was a pretty girl when we were young, everyone said so,” he said in a soft voice, “and she was always kind to me…”
A bad feeling started to settle in her stomach because what he didn’t say was unmistakable. There were plenty who had not been kind to him.
“Elizabeth Turner had at least two children: William James and Weatherby John. When her first son is ten years of age, she and William are listed as living in Carolina with Swanns. Along the way, they move to Virginia where both Elizabeth and Will disappear from public records. This isn’t unheard of for this time. A lot of the records have been lost or were incomplete in the first place,” Gwen explained, trying for an apology.
“And Jamie? His brother?”
“Jamie married a girl named Lucinda and they had eight children: the first being named James and the second named William. James fought in the Revolutionary War that gave the colonies their independence,” she continued because the children had been a bright spot in the researching, “His brother, Weatherby, had three children and moved to Pennsylvania. Unfortunately, they were attacked by Indians so the youngest was killed and the daughter, Elizabeth, was taken. She lived among the Indians as a prisoner until Alexander McCormick rescued her by smuggling her out under furs. They soon married. The lines of Jamie and Weatherby still have descendents in the States.”
With a little smile, he spoke, “she sounds like her grandmother.” Then, he nodded for her to go on.
“Theodore Groves became a Commodore in the British Royal Navy. He never married and died in 1749 from…” Gwen started but stopped when his eyes were downcast. It was obvious that they had worked together so this must be like if she’d been told Ianto was dead.
“We were close…” he whispered and she put a hand on his, “but I need to hear the rest, the other names.”
“The sisters of Joshamee Gibbs married well, but for Mr. Gibbs himself…he’s mentioned as being part of Captain Jack Sparrow’s crew and that is the last anyone hears of him,” she continued, “Barbossa appears to have died three or four times and I couldn’t sort out what was real. He was last seen in Florida among the Spaniards.”
“Arabella Smith…at first, I wondered why you even asked about her. There’s no relation to you or her or any proof that the two of you met. Then, I noticed that she was frequently mentioned in connection with your cousin Fitz. She was hard to find…I don’t believe Arabella Smith is even her real name and there was something…very curious, she was arrested with Fitz but wasn’t hung either. Like your cousin, there’s nothing on her after 1727,” Gwen told him, struggling not to reveal her suspicions that they were connected. She hoped they escaped together and lived happily ever after.
“He and my father held such hatred towards piracy…it’s still surprising that he ended up as one, but I suppose things happen…as I found out for myself…” he spoke, sipping some more. She had noticed there were six months where James’ own whereabouts were unaccounted for so she caught the implication that he engaged in piracy although he had accepted a Privateer position which would amount to the same thing…or at least, that’s what Ianto said when she asked him about it.
“So, that leaves Captain Jack Sparrow…colorful character…found a number of tales on him, including some he’d written himself…claimed in one that his father had saved you from drowning as a young child…” she looked towards the man for some clue as to whether it had really happened, but he remained silent, “As with Barbossa, there’s three or four deaths and nothing confirmed as the truth. He’s sighted as frequently as Elvis and the Flying Dutchman, including last week where people claimed to have spotted him surfing off the coast of Australia with a dog.”
Dread Feet
