Rating: PG-13, because I seriously wigged myself out writing this.
Genre: Parody/Romance/pseudo-Drama (...blah.)
Summary: I was challenged to write a Davy Jones/Barbossa fic. This is the result.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Dedication: Dedicated to my good friend Trinks, who helped inspire this idea, and to my other pal Banzu, for just being so amazingly KRACK-tastic. ;D
Notes: One of my friends and I were joking around about DMC one night, when suddenly the same idea (jokingly) struck us both: Davy Jones and Hector Barbossa as a couple. I immediately vowed to myself to write that fic someday soon. Keep in mind that this really isn't intended to be taken seriously. Consider it a sort-of parody, if you will. A parody written to sound like I'm completely sincere, but a parody none-the-less. Just the idea alone of these two together makes it a parody, LOL.
Timeline: Around the time the Black Pearl was "raised from the depths" some thirteen years ago, as alluded to in DMC by Bootstrap Bill.
I was under the impression that Davy Jones was French, but apparently I'm an idiot. His accent was SCOTTISH, I have learned. Doh!
"So it's done then?" the man asked.
"Yes," the other replied, his Scottish accent easily decernable. "Captain Jack Sparrow's precious ship has been raised. Thirteen years he shall be allowed to sail as Caiptean before I claim his soul."
"A hard bargain you drive, Mr. Jones," the other murmured.
Jones' eyes narrowed. "The sea is an unforgiving force, Mister Barbossa. Thirteen years is far more than he deserves."
"Perhaps," Barbossa agreed easily. "Though, our Jack Sparrow is an odd lad." He started moving slowly, approaching the captain with all the grace and sensuality of a hunter. "And he has a bit of a tendency to follow his heart, rather than his own common sense, at times." A pointed glance was thrown towards Jones, who promptly ignored it.
"What is your point, Hector?" Jones bristled slightly.
"Me point be this, Captain," Barbossa now stood in front of the cursed man. "Ye agreed to let Sparrow live thirteen years as Captain before ye claimed his soul," his voice lowered, and slowly he let his right hand wander upwards, gently stroking one of the quivering tentacles of Davy Jones' beard. "Ye never specifically said that Sparrow had to keep the Black Pearl the whole time, though, did ye? Lots of other ships out there be needing a Captain, I'm sure," he murmured.
Barbossa rested his left hand lightly on Jones' hip before continuing.
"So say, perhaps... if a mutiny were to occur, and our poor Captain was stranded and made Governor of his own little desert isle... What of the Pearl then?"
Jones' eyes, which had closed sometime between Barbossa's speech and the man's arousing stroking of his beard, snapped open at this.
"Mutiny?" the greener man asked. There was a hard light in his eyes, and his accent thickened slightly with emotion. "Mutiny is not something to be discussed lightly with any ship's Captain, mo seis," Jones declared.
"Aye," Barbossa replied softly. "'Tis a dishonorable thing to do, even among pirates," He began caressing the hip his left hand held. "But the question remains unanswered."
Jones' glare lost focus for a moment as he pondered the inquiry. Though as the gentle stroking of his hip and tentacled beard continued, he came to a conclusion surprisingly fast.
"What you say is so, Hector. I made no such deal with Jack Sparrow to keep his beloved ship. Thirteen years I decreed he sail as Captain, though aboard what vessel this sailing happens to occur, no specification was ever made."
He seemed to be thinking again, and Barbossa waited patiently, continuing the soft play of his hands on the other man's body.
"In thirteen years," Jones finally continued, "I shall come to collect my debt with Jack Sparrow. However," he went on before Barbossa could open his mouth to speak, "The Black Pearl shall remain whole, no matter what Caiptean sails her. Ships have no souls to give, after all."
Barbossa's lips curled slightly into a cunning smile. Giving one last caress to the other man's hip, he stepped back and tipped his hat.
"A generous decree, Captain Jones. Perhaps the sea is not as harsh and heartless as I once thought."
With those parting words, and one last lingering look, Barbossa left, making his way off the dock.
When he was out of sight, Davy Jones finally allowed the sigh he'd been holding in to escape his lips, before his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Ah, Hector, my dear mortal. You have no idea just how heartless I really am."
With that last comment floating on the night air, Jones walked off the dock and into the water, making his way back down to his ship in the dark depths below.
Did I disturb anyone yet? That came off as less of a parody, and more of a weird drama, than I'd orginally intended. -blinks-
Also, I forgot the part about Davy Jones only being able to step onto land once every ten years. I didn't remember that until AFTER I wrote this. I dunno if that screws up the DMC timeline or anything, but OH WELL.
...seriously, was anyone out there as disturbed by reading this as I was by writing it? -shudders-
One last thing: I do not speak Scottish/Gaelic. Any Scottish/Gaelic in the story was made from me using an online translator. Blame them for any inaccuracies that may have occured.
Caiptean - Captain
mo seis - my friend
Like I said, I don't know any foreign languages. If those are wrong, don't blame me. -ducks-
Don't forget to review! ;D