the Dalaverse

gryphons_lair's timestamp request -- six months before Brilliant Disguise, Jack sees Will for the first time. Implied Jack/James, too :)



Shooting Fish in a Barrel


Jack was the sort of person who bored easily. Thankfully, he had the means to alleviate this by immediately jumping on a chartered plane to places with luxurious beaches, exotic flora and fauna, a wealth of culture, great food, and whatever else struck his fancy. What most often struck his fancy was an assortment of handsome, willing men, and finding these all over the world had not so far proved a problem.

He had, in fact, just gotten back from three weeks in the south of France, which had been preceded by two weeks on a Caribbean island that happened to belong to quite a famous and well-proportioned actor.

And he had come home because he was – shock of shocks – bored.

“Those papers on your desk won’t sign themselves, you know,” James remarked, reaching behind him to snag creamer for his coffee. Jack cast him a brief sidelong glance before thinking better of it. When James said once and only once, he meant it. Of course, he’d also seemed to mean never, not in a million years, but he hated when Jack reminded him of that. In any case, the divorce wasn’t final yet and he knew that was the primary cause of James’ guilt. He really didn’t want to push James into quitting. Scaring up another brilliant legal mind who would spurn his advances without getting insulted would require too much effort.

“Hey, who’s that?” He spoke mostly for distraction, but as he peered across the break room at the young man picking at a tuna sandwich, his curiosity was piqued. The man was fairly tall, with a slender build and rich brown curls that he fiddled with twice in the ten seconds Jack spent staring at him.

“Will Turner,” said James, taking a cautious sip of the hot coffee. “Accounting. Been here nearly three months. Which you’d know if you bothered to come into your own bloody office on anything resembling a regular basis.”

Jack cocked his head, watching Will Turner’s foot tapping restlessly against the leg of his chair. “He’s cute.” James made a noncommittal noise and added more sugar to his cup.

“He’s cute, and I didn’t even hire him personally,” Jack continued, willing young Mr. Turner to look his way. But the man kept his eyes on his bland sandwich, potato chips, Dr. Pepper, and the financial section of the paper.

James leveled a stern gaze at him. “Jack, do you realize how absurd the turn-over rate is at any business your hand touches? Do you know how many times Human Resources has begged me to talk some sense into you, such as – I don’t know – not shagging every good-looking man who walks through the doors?”

“Mm-hmm,” said Jack absently, smiling to see Will gather up the sections of the paper that were strewn around his table, then make a face at the newsprint smeared on his dirty fingers.

“And he’s shy,” James added, crumpling his cup. “He’s shy, and possibly straight, and perfectly good at his job. For the love of God, please don’t frighten him off for an itch you could scratch anywhere else.”

Jack turned around as Will stood up, deciding this was far too pedestrian a setting for a proper meeting. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see that Mr. Turner had a very nice ass.

“You know, James, sometimes I actually am capable of restraining myself,” he protested, to the fanfare of an eye-roll. Apparently considering the matter settled, James dumped his trash and pointed in the general direction of Jack’s office. Jack followed meekly, his mind on other things, like Will Turner’s warm brown eyes and long, elegant fingers wrapped around a soda can.

Funny thing – he’d come down here suffering from boredom, and now he was feeling quite rejuvenated. Patient, if need be, but certainly inspired.