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| Clothes Make the Man; fic, rated Adult | |
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| Topic Started: 30 Jun 2008, 03:12 PM (54 Views) | |
| Jack | 30 Jun 2008, 03:12 PM Post #1 |
You may kill me, but you may never insult me.
  ![]](http://209.85.48.14/static/1/pip_r.png)
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Well, I was going to post this somewhere more public, but I don't have the patience for something like FFnet. So! Here we are. This is my end of the nefarious bargain that brought you Alia's amazing and undoubtedly superior crackfic. OK, so I'm a little late. It's all FFnet's fault, I tell you. You try registering there. Warning: here, there be slash! More suggestion than graphic descriptions, but if that sort of thing makes you squick, here's your chance to turn back Prepare to meet your new OTP - Bartel! *squees* ***** Not everyone knew about the dress. It started out as a well-kept secret indeed; no one in the know wanted to speak of it, but in due time focsle gossip did what it did. Word spread, more as a ghost story than as an actual fact. So much was said about Barbossa, most of it surely too horrible to be true - and yet no one dared assume it was fabricated, knowing that, if their doubts leaked out, they might well be repaid with a demonstration on their person that their captain was indeed that cruel. It was much the same with the dress. Well, perhaps it was too much to say that no one dared to talk about the dress. Some happened to get a glimpse of it by accident, and not all were smart enough (or aware of the gossip enough) to know it for the secret it was. Pintel was one of those unfortunates, and the first and last stupid enough to discuss the dress openly. "... and it laying all out in the open. Jonesy, he said he seen it once, but I never believed him until today. Now, what do you think the captain would keep that dress for?" Pintel was clearly intrigued by his own question. Most of the crew had long since vacated his particular corner of the deck, some because they knew from experience the trouble that this sort of talk might cause, and the others because they realised that the first men to walk away were trying to avoid getting involved in things that one did not want to get involved in. Pintel and Ragetti, however, were oblivious to the mini-exodus. "You don't think he wears it, do you?" Ragetti asked hesitantly. "Don't be an idiot! The captain wouldn't do a thing like that." "There's men what likes putting on dresses, is all I'm saying!" Ragetti was looking almost insulted, prompting Pintel to once again wonder why he put up with such a half-wit. He shook his head; what Ragetti said might be true, but he couldn't see Barbossa doing it. "Maybe..." Pintel tried to come up with a better explanation than Ragetti, but found it more difficult than he had presumed. To at least say something, he suggested something that was only slightly less ridiculous - and a lot more exciting. "Maybe he has a woman hid away aboard somewhere." "A woman?" Ragetti was immediately interested, his voice low and shaky. He reminded Pintel of a dog in heat - but a male dog, of course. "Why not? It's easy!" Pintel leaned in closer, getting into his own story now. "He has plenty of food sent to his cabin - and he has his own victuals to boot. He could have one of them secret walls, with a hiding space behind!" Suddenly, Ragetti looked aghast. Pintel cursed to himself for somehow losing his captive audience, letting it stray from the path he had prepared; shock was not the response he had been aiming for. "It could happen!" he barked, ignoring the finger that Ragetti was pointing at him for the devil only knew what reason. "He's a man - he's got needs." "Do I now?" Pintel froze at the voice from behind him. He was doomed... Slowly turning around as if he hoped that the presence to his back had only been a figment of his imagination, bound to disappear all by itself if given some time, he gave Barbossa his most ingratiating smile, which made him look rather like a silently shouting gargoyle. "I mean, Captain, Sir... It'd be only natural if you did - and I'm not saying you do. It would account for the dress, is what I mean." Barbossa's eyes flashed darkly, and Pintel wondered what he had said wrong. He had just agreed with what the captain did... whatever he did. Hadn't he? So how could that be bad? "You approve of what I do with the dress, do ye?" "Yes, Captain. Of course I do, Captain," Pintel hurried to say, Ragetti mumbling something similar in the background. "Then follow me." Barbossa walked away without waiting, leaving Pintel and Ragetti staring at each other, each more confused than the other. "He said you have to follow him," Ragetti prodded. "I heard what he said!" How wonderful to get some support... Pintel was worried because he didn't know quite what to expect, but he went to the captain's cabin all the same. It was not as if he had a choice, anyway. Trying to gather courage, he decided that this could actually be a good thing. If the captain really did have a woman aboard... then the only reason why he might invite Pintel over was to let him have a go at her as well, wasn't it? As a reward, so to speak, for being clever enough to figure out the secret. Yeah, that had to be it! Pintel grinned lasciviously, proud of himself. Served that coward Ragetti right for not coming along with him. Pintel knocked at the door, entering the cabin a moment later even though there had been no reply. "Captain?" Armfuls of fabric were thrust at him as soon as he spoke, pushing him away from the door, which was quickly thrown shut. It took Pintel a second to recognise what he was holding as the dress, and even then he didn't understand what he had to hold it for. He couldn't help but notice that it wasn't filled with a winsome wench. Looking at Barbossa for an explanation, he found the captain looming over him, the look on his face difficult to read. "Put that on and bend over the desk," Barbossa ordered, his tone plain but allowing no arguing. Pintel gulped. *~*~*~*~* Pintel never spoke of it to anyone, nor did he ever wear a dress again. In fact, it took some time for him to relearn to appreciate dresses on other people. The curse helped with that, in a way, shifting his priorities so that he could slowly and from a safe distance get used to seeing dresses again. It was a good ten years before he was forced to wear lady's clothing for a second time, long-suppressed memories of his night with Barbossa resurfacing the moment Bo'sun gave the order. "You look nice, though," Ragetti felt the need to say. He would say that, the blithering idiot. Ignorant of everything and its mother, he knew nothing of the trouble they might find themselves in later - together, even, if they weren't careful. "I look nice?!" Pintel grabbed his lacy parasol (this was a higher-class outfit than The Dress, anyway; he tried to take some comfort in that) and whacked Ragetti with it for all he was worth. After everything they had gone through, and with an end to the curse within reach, he should have other, happier things to look forward to - but it looked as if it was going to be a long way to Tortuga. Bugger. |
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| Barnaby Hales | 22 Jul 2008, 09:19 AM Post #2 |
Deckhand
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Ha! *snickers* That's pretty twisted, yet so clever. Poor Pintel. 
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1:57 PM Jan 9