Fanfic Recs by coprime

Five Things That Never Happened to Captain Jack Sparrow (Jack Sparrow | PG | 3,254 words) is exactly what the title says. The five stories manage to tie together nicely in addition to movie. It almost feels like this could have been another way that the movie happened.

Excerpt:
He keeps telling himself that it's wrong to strike a lady. It's the only thing stopping him from doing just that as he stands on the sun-beaten dock, seething, watching Anamaria twirl his hat between her hands. All right, so Anamaria falls under the loosest definition of "lady" in existence, but the fact remains....

"You stole my bloody boat," he snaps, fists clenched, sounding far too much like a petulant child for his own comfort.

Anamaria gives a deceptively sweet smile - and not only that, actually has the audacity to tap his chest with the edge of his own hat. "'Borrowed,' Jack, 'borrowed.' Not 'stole.'"

Cleaving (Elizabeth/Anamaria | G | 500 words) is Elizabeth and Anamaria and a splinter. The details are amazing, contrasting everyone's hands, and set a vivid, almost fantastic mood.

Excerpt:
Elizabeth's hands are soft and mostly white, rope burned, broken nailed, covered in blisters that will soon be calluses. The splinter is buried deep in the flesh of her left hand, intersecting her heart line. There's little blood, but it hurts like the dickens and it's deep enough that it will bleed when the wood's gone.

Men of Our Word (Norrington/Jack | PG13 | 17,292 words) has Norrington attending Elizabeth and Will's engagement party and eventually meeting up with Jack. This story made me give Norrington a second look, and I found I really liked him. Will and Elizabeth are nicely adult in this, and they make a cute couple.

Excerpt:
"Sparrow, I find you cause trouble simply by breathing. How can you -not- be here to wreak havoc? It is your modus operandi." I gesture him over to the corner. "However, this time you've taken it a step too far, breaking into the personal office of the Royal Governor while the entirety of Port Royale is here ..."

"...To celebrate the engagement of the lovely Miss Elizabeth Swann, to the fine upstanding pirate - I mean, blacksmith Will Turner. I know, mate. I was invited." Sparrow says, lifting one eyebrow.

I give him a disbelieving look. "You ...were invited."

"Oh yes." He says easily, leaning back against one of the sofas.

"You have an -invitation- ... to -this- party." I hope he is noting my skepticism.

By the extremely -dirty- look I am now receiving, I am suspecting so. "Ye-es, but if I reach into my pocket to get it , you'll -probably- stab me with your pretty blade."

"Indubitably." Although he is sparking my curiosity, which is always a bad thing to occur around Sparrow. Perhaps he does have an invitation, but the moment you let him know you're intrigued, he has you. Then you are doing the most -ridiculous- things imaginable, ie letting him take a boat, alone, into a cavern filled with pirates such as himself to negotiate terms, and so on.

"So, looks like we've found ourselves at a bit of an impasse then, mate ...Wait!" He flashes me a lazy smile, and then he starts to lift up his shirt. I heft my sword, but he isn't wearing a pistol in his sash, as pirates are apt to do. He continues speaking, as his hands go to his waistline. "I have... an -idea-."

A minute later, I find myself holding Sparrow's pants.

Debauchery (Will-Jack | R | 9,115 words) is a modern AU set mostly in a fetish club. The story is richly detailed and makes accessible what is, to me, an extremely foreign subculture. The really amazing thing is how much the characters have stayed themselves here. And, even more amazing than that, their past hasn't strayed too much from the movie.

Excerpt:
Will turned his paper over and began a second sketch. This one was a simpler character study of the chessplayer riding a giant replica of the white knight, mapped out at first in a scattering of ovals and angles, details then rapidly appearing amid a flurry of bloody crosshatches. A sharp angle of cheek, locks blown aloft at the rearing of the horse. Just a final bit of shading, and...

"Checkmate," said a husky voice. Will jumped. The chessplayer fell clumsily into the chair opposite him but then arranged his limbs carefully, as cats do. Their eyes met long enough for Will to feel uncomfortable, but the man shifted his gaze intently upon the gradebook-paper portraits.

"I like 'em. Yer lines are very vital. Alive." His eyes blinked once, slowly.

"I'm...I didn't mean to..." Will was mortified. "I should have asked first if I could draw you. I'm sorry."

Will pushed the inkpen with his forefinger so that it rolled away toward the table edge spanning the distance between himself and the chessplayer. The man stopped it with the barrier of his caged fingers, then rolled it slowly back towards Will with the flat of his palm. The gesture was strangely electric.

"'I'm sorry...'" the man sang, then cocked his head to the side and asked, "What do they call you?"

"Will," he whispered. He knew he was blushing because his face felt fevered. He stared at the black semicircle of espresso in his saucer, still feeling cloddish, rude.

The man reached out and tipped Will's chin up. "Don't be embarrassed. Yer a talented artist. I'm flattered." His dirty hand smelled of tobacco, polished wood, stringy adhesive, and salty musk. Only later would Will consider how strange the gesture had been, for this street creature to have reached out and touched his face at this point in their acquaintance. "Are you going to keep these pictures?"

Happy Endings (Jack/Will/Elizabeth | PG | 802 words) is the sequel to 'The Swordsmith and the Pirate: A Romance of the Spanish Main' by Elizabeth Turner and puts to rights that wibble at the end. Elizabeth's been published, and Anamaria likes to read. I really like Anamaria in this.

Excerpt:
"Well, well," he breathed. "Anamaria. I never knew ye had a taste for ...*literature.*"

"It's a pamphlet on buggery, sir," she said, clear as a bell.

"Yes, I can see that." He ruffled the pages and read aloud: " '...the Discomfort surpassed any he had suffer'd in that Region before, and yet the Pain was sweet. Wider he spread his Legs, and Squirmed, wishing the Blacksmith could Pierce him t'th'very Heart...' "

"Don't," she snapped. "I haven't got to that part yet."

Are You SURE You're Not Elvish? (ensemble | PG | 1,555 words) has the Pirates of the Caribbean crew ending up in Middle Earth. Everyone mixes up Legolas and Will. Very silly but a lot of fun too.

Excerpt:
"And he says he's not Legolas," Aragorn finished.

Gimli frowned. "Are you sure you're not Legolas with different hair?"

"Yes!" Will complained. "Why won't you people believe me?" He paused. "And why are you so short?"

"Dwarves often are," Gimli told him, deadpan. "Are you sure you're not elvish, then? Because you look very elvish."

"NO!"

"What about part elvish?"

"Why do people keep asking me that? For the last time, no!"

"I don't know, he looks pretty elvish to me," Merry said thoughtfully.

The Revenge (Inigo/Jack | PG | 2,882 words) is, eee!, Inigo and Jack. Inigo's the new Dread Pirate Roberts, except he's not much good at it. Then he meets Jack, who's looking for a boat. There's something appealling about these two drunks, and I can't help picturing them. They both move so fluidly.

Excerpt:
"I take no prisoners," Inigo remembered to say, because Westley had said that was the best thing to go with if you weren't sure who you were dealing with.

"So I'd heard," the pirate said, and slid forward a bit farther, until the wheel locks were under his shoulders, and he extended a hand. "Captain Jack Sparrow. The pleasure is all mine."

Inigo shook twice, sharply, and then let go. "I'm afraid I've never heard of you," he said with as much respect as he could, considering the hour and the two empty bottles of brandy he'd left at the pub.

The pirate's face fell quite impressively. "You haven't?"

"I didn't think you'd take it so hard," Inigo said, leaning against the bulk of the rail behind him to see if it would take a bit of the swaying away.

"Yes, well," Jack tried to recover himself. "I'm just not used to...ah..." he gestured widely.

"I don't get out much," Inigo reassured him. "Plundering and...not taking prisoners. And whatnot. It's quite taxing."