try_corsets | (no subject)

(no subject)

A pirate steals into the kitchen, stops in the shadows and looks around.

The Milliways kitchens are never fully asleep, but when it's so late it's actually early one can sneak in relatively undetected and snoop around. The refrigerators are large and fully-stocked, the aromas as appealing as during the busiest dinner hour. All a pirate has to do is ignore the rats and the rest is a veritable feast for the taking.

This particular pirate isn't after rum and something edible to chase it with, however.

Captain Elizabeth Turner, Pirate King and soon to be mother, simply wants some milk to ease the persistent burning sensation near her heart. It is one of many indignities she's been forced to endure lately, and she's not about to sit around and suffer on the Empress when relief can be had here.

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Elizabeth is indeed far too startled to continue removing garments, though Mike needn't worry; one more sash and she'd be down to her normal attire. The rest simply helps create an increasingly implausible illusion.

"How?"

Beat.

"Why?"

The impossible is suddenly looking less so; such is the nature of Jack's wake.

"Have you met X?"

Recently?

"Is this some sort of trick question?"

Mike is slowly becoming more and more aware of the fact that NO ONE is driving this crazy train.

"She has an excellent nose for such things," Elizabeth declares, as if this makes infinitely more sense than anything he's contributed to the conversation. "I discovered."

Her eyes narrow.

One of the Barmen.

"Yes, of course." She glances at the door. "Your bar is having fun at my expense."

"I think it's more she was having her own fun at my expense, really.
...

Wait...did you just imply that my pregnancy was all a joke at your expense? Lady, I don't even know who you are!"

Elizabeth's eyes find Mike's face again, and she doesn't so much regret her words as quickly reevaluate how to proceed from here.

"Captain Elizabeth Turner," she offers eventually, straightening her shoulders. "I am acquainted with both Jack and your Bar."

Neither one cares for her much. At all.

With this in mind, she tries another smile.

"At the same time?"
Because...that might explain a few things...

Frowning, she parts her lips and gives him a puzzled, annoyed look. Why does it feel as if this exchange would benefit from the presence of an interpreter?

"I've been together with them a time or two, if that's what you mean. Not for a very long while, however. Not since before I was married, to be sure."

'Before I was married' sounds better than 'before we rescued Jack from the Locker, where I put him.'

An interpreter would be nice, because...well...what she's saying is SO not what Mike is hearing.

"She totally didn't tell me about that!?"

She turns her head and looks at him askance.

"It's a very busy place."

Beat.

"You really are pregnant, aren't you." Elizabeth is eyeing his stomach again. "Mike?"

His is the only Barman's name she knows.

And apparently, his body is a very busy body!
He nods.

"Michaelangelo, but yeah...just Mike. And yeah...I really kind of am. But it's not mine. I'm just carrying it for Bar."

"I see."

No, she doesn't. Not even a little.

"Jack always was inordinately fond of her."

Suddenly, Elizabeth laughs again and reels it in almost as quickly.

All she'd wanted was milk. Just milk.

"Apparently," he says sighing and running a hand through his already unruly hair. "The feeling is mutual. Or was...for at least one magical night."

One magical night?

The corner of Elizabeth's eye twitches.

"Does he know?"

HA! She thinks that's a twitch!? She should have seen the full on gran mal seizure Mike had when he found out he had a uterus!

"A yup. What about you? Does he, you know...know?"

Elizabeth holds her arms slightly away from her body and glances at her stomach the way one might expect a pirate to eye an empty bottle of rum; why does it look like that and how did it get that way?

In both cases, the answer is always clear.

"Jack? I hardly imagine he'd care, but yes. I believe he's been told."

Mike tsks.
"That man just runs hot and cold, doesn't he?"

Elizabeth blinks.

"An unhappy circumstance undoubtedly resulting from his obvious madness," she supposes.

What, exactly, are they discussing? His pregnancy or hers?

"The jar." Exasperated, she points to the Nutella. "Do you mean to eat that or not?"

Having stolen food from the kitchen before, she knows where to locate the utensils and seems to already have two spoons in her hand.

Edited 2009-12-30 05:40 (UTC)

"Can't say as I'm going to argue with you there!"

Mike is the slightest bit puzzled when she walks away, but when he sees that she's going for silverware all things become clear. He can't help but smile as he sees that she has not one, but TWO spoons. Holy crap calories! Good for her!

"That was the plan. Well...actually, the plan was to steal two. One for the fruit I have back in my suite, and the other to tide me over until I get there. What...uh...what were you looking for? Not that you're not welcome to as much Nutella as you want, I'm just curious."

One spoon is for Mike. She may be a pirate now, but that doesn't mean she's going to totally abandon her standards of hygiene and let him dip his fingers in when perfectly good utensils are to be had.

Besides, she's not taking a bite until he does. Elizabeth isn't even sure what Nutella is.

"Milk. It seems to calm the dreadful burning feeling near my heart, and we are in short supply aboard the Empress," she says, dryly.

She gives him an arch look; it suggests he should agree, even if he isn't troubled by heartburn.

Mike wastes no time, he takes the spoon and digs in for his first bite of what can only be described as Scoopable Bliss. Forgive him his minor foodgasm.

It's the minor foodgasm that keeps him from catching the hint that he should be in agreement.

"Milk? For heartburn?" His nose wrinkles. "I think that only works in the short term. I usually end up using Tums, but then...I'm kind of allergic to milk. I have some in my pocket, if you want."

"Tums?"

Her hand stays far away from his pocket. Her spoon, however, joins his in the jar. After a brief battle for supremacy, she pulls it back out and sniffs the hazelnut spread.

So far, so good.

Tentatively, Elizabeth licks a tiny portion from the spoon.

And then all of it.

"That's the stuff, innit? Like happiness in a jar. Here, hold this and I'll get the Tums."

Mike plops his own spoon into his mouth for safe keeping as he hands off the jar got Elizabeth. Then...the routing through the many pockets of his cargo shorts begins. Nope, not that one. DEFINITELY not that one.

"Here we go," he says around the spoon. Triumphant he holds the small roll of chalky tablets up for her perusal.

"Medicine," she concludes, unhappily.

Half the Nutella seems to have disappeared while he searched his pockets, and she is not at all inclined to share what's left. He did say there was more, after all.

"Is there anything else you recommend for our... condition?"

Elizabeth can't believe she's asking advice of a man pregnant with Jack Sparrow's baby, but it's not as if she has better options on her ship. It's not as if Gibbs has ever been pregnant.

She fervently hopes.

Yeah, he's noticing that she's not relinquishing the Nutella in favor of the Tums. And really, it's not something he'd blame her for.

"They're not so bad, as meds go. I mean, they're fun to chew, do the job, and even if you don't have burning they're a great source of calcium. Which beats cuttlebone any day of the week.

...

Wow I sound like a commercial."
Mike plops the spoon into an open pocket, and begins to open the roll of Tums.

"I don't know that I'm the best person to ask for advice, I mean...aside from just following doctor's orders as close as you can."
She has a doctor, right?

Licking her spoon, Elizabeth closely watches his progress with the roll. If she's not vigilant, he might try to trick her and drop one in the jar. Fun to chew isn't enough to do away with her wariness.

"I don't have any to follow. Books were provided," she drawls.

Provided by Bar.

Elizabeth had nightmares for a week after reading the first.

"I'm perfectly healthy," she insists.