Pairing/Characters: James, Jack, Sophie
Genre: Wig abuse, pie fic, crack!
Summary: Oh Sophie, can you ever forgive me?
Disclaimer: If it was mine, Sparrington would be cannon.
Notes: Written with my comments and cassiopaya’s reply to her Slippery When Wet in mind.
Feedback is love, please don't ask me what I was thinking I truly don't know.
“Jamie” Sparrow grasped arching his spine.
James crushed his mouth onto the pinned and squirming pirate beneath him.
“I’ve finally caught you, Captain” He growled into the slighter man’s ear.
Tarnished copper eyes fixed onto sea green in a mesmerizing hold, a predatory smirk.
James woke up from his dream still caressing his pillow, with a groan he threw it away from him and sat up.
That was when he noticed two things.
One, his wig was missing.
Two, the smell of smoke was rising from downstairs.
With a curse that would have made Sparrow blush...if he were here, James leapt up.
Hastily forcing on some breeches he pelted out the bedchamber door.
He made it to the kitchen obviously Mrs. Chip his cook had forgotten to take something out of the oven, a most rare oddity.
James snatched a cloth from the table and proceeded to remove the offending…. pastry?
Slightly charred but still edible… or so his half asleep stomach seemed to think.
James settled the pie down onto the table, retrieved a knife and plate from the cupboard and began to cut a slice.
The filling was suspiciously tough to cut, neatness momentarily put aside James dug in and with a frown pulled out his once immaculate white wig.
Something glinted off side to the table edge, an empty rum bottle with a message inside.
James grasped the bottle and seeing no alternative method, dropped it onto the floor.
Carefully picking the parchment from the shards of glass, James read.
Prepared a midnight snack for you, hope you enjoy your wig pie.
All my love
P.S. You look adorable when you’re asleep I may have to drop in some other time.
James smirked, contemplating revenge involving rum, Jack Sparrow and strategically placed mousetraps.
He would be ready for Jack’s next attempt at culinary and flagitious abuse of his wigs, ready and waiting.