crucifythenburn:

“You seem to have taken a liking to our friend,” says Jack. Max’s eyes snap to his, but if she’s embarrassed to have been caught staring she does a good job of keeping it hidden. “He’s not quite as eloquent as I, but I won’t deny the man his charms. She seems to be quite taken with him as well.”

“Oh?” Max returns.

Jack lets a small huff push through his nose. “Don’t be coy,” he says. “It most certainly doesn’t suit you.”

Max’s gaze drifts back down below toward the parlor, toward the small table to the right of the bar, at the two people sitting there just close enough to have their knees touching. Anne’s long red hair is falling in waves of lava over her shoulders. She leans in to listen to whatever Mark is telling her.

“Jealousy is unbecoming of you as well,” Max says, more taunt than actual observation.

A sound half resembling a scoff comes from the left, but Max doesn’t bother looking over to read the eye roll that she’s sure accompanies it. She bites the inside of her cheek, holds back her smirk.

“I could see how you might perceive me as such, what with her spending the majority of her time on land with you.” Jack clasps his hands, leans his forearms onto the railing, coming fully into Max’s peripheral. She can tell that he’s smiling, that it’s probably forced, but she still doesn’t grant him the satisfaction of her attention. “But my bed doesn’t go without her warmth for too long, and I doubt whatever it is he’s telling her is half as interesting as what we’ve achieved together.”

He is jealous. Max almost lets herself smile because it’s deathly close to endearing. “Well, I have been a party to one or two of Mark’s stories and they are rather impressive,” she goads. “Perhaps, if on occasion you would elect to set sail without her, you could accumulate your own stories to share with her upon your return.”

Jack grins, cutting his eyes. “Nice try.”

“What?” That smile finally spreads across Max’s face. She turns slightly toward Jack. “I am only trying to help.”

“Quite.”

They stand in silence at the bannister of the second level for a breath, just long enough to hear Anne’s careless laughter ripping through the chatter. Jack visibly shifts, both in expression and body language.

“I can assure you that you have nothing to be so worked up over,” Max submits. “Mark is… interesting, true. And Anne and I have grown fond of him, but–”

“I’m hardly worked up.”

“No?”

Jack grabs a drink off of a passing serving tray, and Max gives him a look as if the act in and of itself is just short of confirmation. “Shut up,” he says quickly, downing the drink. “I am a delight.”

“Oh, of this I have no doubt,” Max grins.

The empty glass comes down upon the railing harder than Jack had probably intended. “So, am I to believe that you’re not even – the least bit intimidated?”

Max casts her eyes back onto Anne. “Why should I be?” she asks. “I do not own her. And what Anne and I share is hardly penetrable. It has stood the tests of time, distance, violence… betrayal.” She swallows the coldness accompanying the sentiment. And she should probably not be trying to soothe Jack’s hurt ego or quell his insecurities, but this isn’t really about Jack at all. This is about Anne. Her happiness. Her comfort. This is what is truly important. “No one can simply undo what has been painstakingly built between she and I.” She glances at Jack. “Not even you.”

She doesn’t wait to see if Jack catches the parallel she is drawing. It isn’t her concern, although she hopes, silently, that he understands. For Anne’s sake.

“It’s different,” is all Jack supplies then.

“What is?”

He takes a breath, then says, “You and her.”

Max nods. “You believe that Mark is a bigger threat because he is a man?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But it is what you meant,” Max insists, peering at Jack with unforgiving calculation.

“I am simply saying that I could handle…” -here, he gestures at Max- “this. You. With her. I understood it. But him…”

Anne looks up then, right into Max’s eyes, as if she knew they would be waiting there for her. She smiles, filling Max with the warmth she has grown so accustomed to since their reconciliation. She then switches to Jack, and her smile widens. Anne waves them both down to join the table.

Max moves from the balcony first, but can’t help but notice Jack’s reluctance. She takes a step backward, places a reassuring hand upon his tense shoulder. “These very things you are worried about, they will only serve to destroy what you are trying so hard to protect long before they could ever come to fruition.”

Jack lifts his eyebrows. “That’s easy for you to say,” he dismisses. “You’re still the only woman in her life.”

At that, Max looks over her shoulder at Mark and laughs quietly to herself. “Have you truly never noticed Mark Read?” She smirks, purring into Jack’s ear. “How small of stature, how meek of voice?”

“Yes,” Jack says forcefully. “I have no bloody idea what she sees in him.”

And Max can’t help but let out a giggle then.

“What could possibly be funny?”

She sighs. “Do not worry, Jack,” she says, patting his shoulder. “You are still the only man in Anne’s life.”

Jack’s eyes squint at her, then open wide, darting down toward Mark and Anne. And Max makes to join them at that, walking away and leaving Jack to sort it out on his own.

“Wait a minute,” he calls out.