pirate_gibbs | Christmas on the Pearl

Christmas on the Pearl

The Captain's quarters are set. The large desk has been cleared of Jack's personal goods. The rest of the room is neat and orderly, as it tends to be (much to Gibbs' constant surprise). Whatever chairs can be found belowdecks have been dragged up by the first mate, creating a cozy feel.

The desk and the larger chests are covered with oilcloth, which serve as crude tablecloths. The ship's hodgepodge of dishes, cups and silverware, plundered from many ports and ships, sit near a selection of traditional holiday treats, from ham to mincepie. At the center of the desk, there is a crystal decanter with a gold nameplate saying "Captain Jack Sparrow", filled with red wine, surrounded by matching glasses.

And there is a small, sparsely decorated tree in a corner near the hammock.

It's Christmas on the Black Pearl. Welcome.

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Gibbs had not made the connection when he put that one name on the list. More's the pity.

"You! What trouble are you going to get us into this time?"

Raven grins.

"Likely none, yes?"

Beat.

"Unless you are running out of food."

"We have plenty of food." A cold pause follows.

"But the last time we saw you, you led the Captain into a fair hell. And all he returned with was coffin and a picture of a key. Surely you could have told him of the key without that."

Raven considers this, head tilted.

"Possibly."

That grin is apparently not going anywhere.

"But it would, I think, not have been half so entertaining."

"And had Jack not escaped from that house of horrors your cousins call home, would you have laughed then?" Maybe it's been some months for Raven since this little incident happened, but it's only a short number of weeks for Gibbs.

Raven gives Gibbs a look that seems to say 'are you crazy?'

"You are so fond of 'what ifs', then? I am, I think, not so surprised."

"I am fond of not seeing Jack eyeless and a prisoner." Or dead, though that seems to not be an option anymore.

"But what I am fond of is not my concern. The Captain has invited you, same as all the others, and I'll not let that interrupt with the celebrations."

Raven's smile is, for a brief moment, very sharp indeed.

"I am not so fond of cages, either. So."

"How did you meet Jack?" Gibbs practically blurts out the question. Before he loses his nerve.

"Mostly there was drinking."

Raven snorts, perhaps at the memory.

"He is, I think, very fond of rum."

"Aye, that he is. Indeed, I wold guess that he's met most of his friends that way." It was how he met Gibbs, of course.

"It is, perhaps, not so bad a beginning."

In some cases, at least, this is very likely true.

"No, it was not." Though if Gibbs remembers any details of the batle he and Jack once fought with a keg of rum - or was it a bottle? - it's only be luck.

"Well, enjoy the feast, and happy Christmas," Gibbs says with just some enough enthusiasm to be a decent host, before avoiding Raven for a while.

"And to you, I think."

And, quite possibly, Raven is even kind enough to help Gibbs in avoiding him.

Call it a Christmas gift.

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Christmas on the Pearl

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