Fandom: Torchwood/Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: Humor, Crossover
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, yay!
The Rift had a habit of dumping odd things into Torchwood’s world. This was by no means the oddest, if only by virtue of the fact that the man appeared to be human, but it was definitely a weird one. The man in question was dressed very strangely, but it was pretty obvious from his garb (long coat, boots, oddly braided hair and ornaments poking out from beneath a faded crimson bandana, and an old-fashioned leather hat) as to what exactly his chosen, ah, profession was.
“So he’s a pirate?” Tosh whispered, disbelief coloring her tone.
“I prefer ninjas,” Ianto muttered quietly.
The man swaggered towards Jack Harkness, making odd gestures with his hands as he did so. “So let me get this straight, mate,” the pirate said in a semi-drunken slur. “We are both dashing, adventurous, nigh irresistable men of action who both happen to answer to the illustrious name of Captain Jack?”
Jack shrugged. “That’s what it looks like.” Behind him, he heard one of his team muttered something that sounded a lot like ‘he forgot sexually ambiguous,’ but he wasn’t sure which one of them said it. He suspected it was Gwen, just because.
The pirate chuckled, his head swinging around on his shoulders like a bobble head doll; his grin revealed some very bad teeth. “Wait until they hear about this on the Pearl.”
“The Pearl?” Tosh spoke up again.
“M’ship, love,” the pirate said. “Saavy?”
“Oh…” Tosh paused. “I like your hat.”
“Thank you, love,” the pirate said with a sort of half grin. Then his gaze shifted slightly to her right and he began swaying his way across the room towards them, past Jack. One hand waved in their direction. “You there! With the thing about your neck!”
Ianto instinctively reached up and put one hand to the tie knotted at his collar. “Me, sir?”
“Yes, you,” the pirate slurred. “What’ve you got to drink in this fine establishment?”
“Well, we have coffee, tea, water…”
“Got any rum?”
“No sir, we do not have any rum,” Ianto said, privately thinking that the last thing this man needed was more alcohol, if his gait and manner of speech were any indication. He was stumbling around like some sort of drunken rock star.
The pirate, who upon falling through the Rift had introduced himself as Captain Jack, sighed mournfully. “Why is the rum always gone?”