call me Thor, call me Raiden, call me goddamn Zeus

JACK

"People are a lot flimsier than ships," Jack says casually, because whilst he wouldn't call her weak in any sense of the word, he knows she's felt it when bodies break after taking a tumble from her top mast. She's experienced the scrape of flesh and bone during a keel haul, she knows the hiss of a rope burn and the way shins crack against crates. He doesn't try to hide his smile at the brief flare of indignance, the urge to return to timber and canvas and cannon, because in all likelihood he'd feel the same in her shoes.

Stepping back a fraction just before she slips off the desk, the Captain's surprise is a brief flurry of cold air that whips around the cabin before settling. The Ark winds herself around him like a warm weight on his chest, and for a man unused to being embraced, it takes him a second to remember how to respond, to remember that it actually feels good when he lets it.

His arms close around her in turn, fingers feathering through stray curls of red, though as he senses the yawning pit of existential dread open in her mind, he can't help himself - Jack laughs. Not unkindly; if anything, it's the sort of laugh that suggests he's already figured that part out. "Didn't I tell you earlier, you're the only ship I'm goin' down on?" He raises his eyebrows. "Neither of us are goin' anywhere if I have my way 'bout it. Don't go worryin' about death, love - we're better'n that."

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!