If the whole world's on fire then I'm holding the lighter

i want to taste you again

Vesper's name stamps itself across Jack's telepathy like a brand Colt has decided to wield, a muscle feathering in the Captain's jaw, though his expression remains otherwise quietly, dangerously neutral. She might not be in the market for a fight with him, but he'll be damned if she's leaving without one if this keeps up, and the faux sweetness in her smile and her voice do very little to quell the rising tide of his temper.

"Save it for the taverns, I don't care," he says, the saccharine explanation - goats and orgasms and gift baskets, oh my! - sounding like the sort of gossip best slurred between strangers at a beer-slick bar. "I can't call him. He ain't here any more. Left the Ark, left King's End high an' dry. And yeah, before you ask, it's because of you. And no, I ain't tellin' you where he went. So this," Jack gestures to the herd of goats, unimpressed, "is somethin' you just made my problem."

Jack hasn't noticed the flickers of static and lightning that have begun to creep out beneath his hands along the railing (and the deck as a result), but the crew certainly have, giving him a respectable berth as they go about their duties.

like a secret or a sin

JACK