Well, each of these took me about ten to twenty minutes to write and I was shocked at how well they turned out. I was bored and so here they are.
I don't own anything in any of these except Jack's son in this first one.
"I think ye be missin' something o' yers Jackie."
Jack looked up from his bookkeeping to see his father standing in the doorway of his open cabin.
"Really," he said more than asked, "That could be anythin'. Do I have t' guess, or are ye gonna show me?"
Teague grinned like a shark, no humor in sight, and pulled a stumbling awkward teenager from behind him.
Jack could only sigh.
"Of course," he muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes skyward, hoping for some strength from some deity he hardly believed in. Then he turned back to his father and his son.
"Well c'mon Junior, out with it," he flapped his hands in his own casual manner, "What did you pillage, plunder, drink, debauch, or blow up this time?"
"Why do you always assume I did something?" the slurring teenager protested loudly, doing a great imitation of being drunk, "Why can't it be his Highny over here that has a problem and is just blamin' it on me?"
Jack quirked a sly grin, "Because yer related to me, now out with it."
The boy sighed and dropped the drunk act, "Twasn't much really...
The boy was cut off by Teague cuffing him upside the head hard enough to knock him to his knees.
"Twasn't much was it? You were stealin' out o' me own treasury!"
Jack sat stock still, frozen in fear as the scene took him back to some of the worst nights of his childhood. He could still picture how his Da' looked to him then at just nigh on six, and then again fourteen. Those were the only two incidents he remembered with crystal quality, but there were plenty of others floating around too.
And he saw his son sitting in the same place he had he felt molten rage flood his blood, and then it hardened to cold steel. He was pissed.
"...from family, boy, it just ain't..."
"Teague." His voice was quiet but firm enough to cut of the man's tirade.
His son sat frozen, watching him warily. He, at least had been on the recieving end of The Voice only once and Jack had caught him talking to Gibbs about how it sounded. Regardless, he knew at least thee boy had common sense.
"What!?" Teague bellowed at him.
The boy looked to his grandfather in shock, but he dared not say a word. Maybe he could get out of the line of fire if he stayed quiet.
Jack however, beat him to the punch.
"Go find Gibbs, Junior, he'll give ye a list o' extra chores ye got, and we'll talk later."
The boy nodded so hard Jack thought his head would fly right off and then he scurried to his feet and out of the room.
Jack really couldn't blame him and then Teague turned his icy glare on him and he wished he could escape too, if only to escape the memories.
"You just let the boy go!? I was perfectly 'appy to dole out his punishment, since yer too cowardly and you just let 'im go!?"
Jack only smirked and spoke dangerously, "You forget, I know all about your punishments."
Jack's soft tone startled Teague but he grinned obliviously.
"Ah, so you'll punish 'im later then. Good boy Jackie. You grew up good."
Jack flinched and then grinned like a shark, not unlike Teague's expression when he had entered. This one had a more dangerous glint to it.
"I did, didn't I?"
Teague laughed and went to leave when Jack's soft voice stopped him.
The old man turned and was startled to see Jack so close to his face he felt his son's breath move his hair ornaments. Then he felt the pistol press into his sternum.
"If you so much as think of touchin' my boy again, I'll kill you," he stated softly and then grinned that shark grin again, "Savvy?"
Teague shied away and looked at his son in shock, before huffing and storming out of the cabin, and Jack slammed the door shut behind him with a feral growl of disgust.
With a few deep breaths he stalked back to his chair and threw himself into it.
"Come 'ere boy, I know fer a fact ye didn't go t' Gibbs like I asked."
"I-I'm sorry," a meek voice called out from his balcony.
"Ah, I'm not gonna hit ye boy, get over here."
The boy immediately scrambed inside the window and cautiously made his way over to his father.
When he was finaly close enough, Jack reached out and snagged the back of his shirt, so he could pull him into his lap.
"Da'!" the boy protested loudly, "I'm thirteen, I don't need to be on yer lap like some droolin' toddler!"
Jack chuckled, "Well I want ye here so here ye'll stay me boy. Now what put the bee in the old man's bonnet?"
"I...took somethings from his chest in the study and bartered 'em away cuz Lario and Herbert both got fired again."
Jack winced. Damn, he thought he'd found 'em both a good job this time. Those rugrats were gonna be the death of both him and his boy it seemed.
"How'd their Ma' take it?" Jack asked.
The boy shrugged, " 'bout as well as she takes anything else; with a hug and a smile. The she went out and stole a new dress t' try and get her whorin' job back."
Jack winced again at his language, but the boy noticed and scoffed.
"C'mon Da' that's what it is."
"Alright, fine. I'm out of ideas where their concerned boy-o. I might just have to offer 'em a place aboard the ship and see how well they do."
The boy laughed, "Yer probably the softest hearted pirate around. It must be old age."
Jack smiled widely ready to make a quip but it faded as some memories came to mind.
Like his beatings as a child for giving away gold and jewels he pocketed to smaller kids with bigger families.
Like how he set free a shipload of slaves and got a brand and a life of piracy for it.
Like how he opened his crew's quarters to a starving man and his stranded companions, and ended up governer of a godforsaken spit of land in the middle of nowhere.
Like how he had saved a woman from drowning only to end up eaten by a mythical sea creature.
He sighed. Oh how he wished it was only old age.
He smiled up at his boy sadly and shook his head.
"Yer a good boy."
His boy looked at him strangely but nodded.
"Yer a good Da' too."
Jack chuckled. If only.