Will awoke to the clamor of bells and a spicy, fermented scent rising
up from the sun-flecked sheets. It took him a moment to remember the
innkeeper's wassail, a great deal of which had ended up in the bed during
the previous night's carousing. Of course, it was Christmas morning!
Nothing like the previous ones Will had celebrated, although Jack did
produce some fat oranges, which he juggled showily before presenting them to
Will and Elizabeth.
Jack consumed his orange with alacrity then fidgeted while Will and
Elizabeth savored theirs. Finally he cried, "Where's my Christmas kiss
then?" nudging Will with his bare foot.
Will grinned around an orange segment and held up a finger to indicate that
Jack should be patient. Elizabeth placidly continued licking orange juice
from her fingers.
"In that case. . ." Jack located his coat, hanging from the headboard, and
from a pocket produced a sprig of mistletoe. Looking in vain for somewhere
to hang it, he twisted his shoulders wryly and wound it in his hair, then
reclined back with a smug smile.
Elizabeth and Will shared a look of amused resignation and launched
themselves at Jack. In short order, they were licking and sucking the
sticky orange juice from his, and each other's, mouths.
Distracted by subsequent explorations, they completely forgot about the
greenery Jack had stuck in his hair, and there it remained, until they
returned to the Black Pearl, when Anamaria picked it out with a
contemptuous roll of her eyes.
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