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Star Wars Phantom Menace 1.1 Editor Speaks
guinnessy writes "Studio 360 interviews the person who carried out Phantom Edit 1.1. You can listen to the interview here if you have Real Audio. It's quite interesting and explains why he hated Jar Jar Binks so much and what he did."
Close your web browser, shut down your fucking linux "b0xen" and go outside for once in your life.
I think the fact that a site like slashdot, which caters to you fucking nerds out there, can't even
survive without having to charge you for reading it, says alot about how much you fucks are worth to the rest of the world: ZERO.
This should serve as a wakeup call to all you nerds out there who think that working on your b0xen in your one bedroom apartment, posting useless shit to a useless web site like slashdot and reading about the newest version of OpenBSD that can run on your fucking Dreamcast console is a good way to go through life.
So wake the fuck up and DO something productive, something that makes money. Stop wasting your time talking about open source fucking garbage that will never amount to anything useful.
What the hell is "the Phantom Edit 1.1"?
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Mary likes the taste of my jiz. Well, at least that is what she always tells me...but who am I to believe the bitch, anyway? I can't keep that snatch away from another man's cock if my life depended on it. Indeed, she is the horniest fuck a guy could be lucky enough to have. It's no use getting her to be faithful to me - I'll come home and suck her off, only to find her twot scented with some dude's seed. While I am at work, she finds another hobby to get her off. Dildoes, vibrators, her own hands...well, fuck, it just doesn't do it for her. She usually picks a man as her hobby of choice. A different one every day. And, for the present time (a couple of weeks, maybe?) Mary is mine to plug (while another guy gives it to her on the side.) So, I had better tell you about one particular experience with this gal before she runs off and leaves me with no inspiration.
You wouldn't believe the boner it gives me to think about Mary and the things she does. I picked her up the first time at this local Portland bar I frequent a couple nights a week. I believe it was a Thursday - a typical crowd, and not much going on...well, except for this phenomenal girl sitting alone at the bar a couple of feet away from me. The gorilla in my sans- underwear slacks started to rise as soon as I saw the pouty lips, the dynamite tits, the fucking curves of her ass and thighs, and the legs of a true model - everything this girl had made me want to blow my wad right there. I was pretty much stunned. I figured I was going to need to get some pussy from this she-beast tonight or there would be hell to pay - so I started on over to where she was sitting. I had my Zima in hand, ready to converse...when she whipped her head of beautiful blonde hair my way and stood up. She was a little shorter than me - maybe I was thinking that she would be the perfect height for a sixty-nine. Everything at that moment was just too damn much to comprehend. The unit in my pants was pulsing, my heart was nervous, anxious...and my mind, I just wasn't thinking...
The look she gave me said it all. She wanted to get rammed by my Jimmy. I didn't say a thing, and neither did she. As was typical for my Thursday night flings at O'Doulings, I grabbed the bitch by the hand with force, and led her to the shitter. I know it sounds tasteless - almost like something out of a 70's orgy, but a real fine bitch like this needs to be power-fucked in a low class joint to show her that she ain't so great. The more I looked at her, the more I realized that she was so beautiful - she needed to fall from grace. I was ready to do it.
I turned her around. I didn't want to look at her face anymore. Pretty as hell, she made me want to kiss her wonderful mouth. I wanted to ravage this girl till she couldn't stand it anymore, but I knew that I had to achieve something else with the her first. Surprisingly, this tight body felt very eager to please me. As soon as the stall door closed behind us in the men's restroom, I pushed the pussy over the toilet so that her legs were spread nice and wide over the porcelain.
I said, "O.K. you cunt - You wanna get yer pooper plugged? First, you better put a nice big shit in the toilet for me!"
She replied, breathing heavily, "What the fuck kind of sicko are you, you asshole?"
I yelled into her damn ear, "You'd better do what I say or I'm gonna fuck your brown cave dry! Now plop a big turd or you're gonna get it!"
When she responded, I knew that the first part of the night was going to go as planned.
"Fine!" she said, "You'd better have a fucking huge dick - my twot's been filled by a lot of guys who look bigger than your sorry-ass bulge."
Right then and there, a noisy squirt of diarrhea emerged from her rear-hole and right onto my shoe. I wanted to kick the bitch, but I decided that the aroma of her poo was too good to waste on the disgust of a soiled Hush-Puppy. I pulled up her black skirt and saw that my guess was wrong: she wasn't wearing crotchless panties or none at all - yes, she had filled her own pants with butt-cum! Pretty fuckin' sick sight, but just what I need to put me over the edge. I yanked her dripping brown- stained white panties down and dropped them to her knees. I then ripped my dick out of the Calvin's and shoved it into her wet fudge-tunnel. She screamed, so I had to put my hand over her mouth.
"Hey you fucker! What the fuck do you think you're doing??? My ass is on fire!"
I whispered into her ear, "I know. Do you want it some more?"
I thought I was pretty hot shit until she pulled this fucking sweet karate move right then. I mean, in a split-second, this bitch jumped off my pole and had her hands on my excrement- covered member. I didn't have a chance to even gasp. Before I knew it, my dick was encased in one of those black leather bondage straps. Fuck, she looked up at me with disgust and yelled, "If you want my ass, you have to earn it. You like shit, huh? Now's you're chance to show me how you like my 'cooking'."
She bent me over and instructed me to lick up her wet explosion from a couple of moments ago. I refused, but she whipped the control cord on that fucking black thing on my dick. I realized that if I wanted to walk out of that bathroom a man, I'd have to do what she said. I'd never tasted shit before. Only played with it. I had a girlfriend in high school who fooled everybody. She was a princess on the outside, saludatorian, fucking homecoming queen, little miss perfect. Everyone thought she was so innocent. If they only knew about her - the orgies, rolling in her shit while we fucked, the toys, the other girls, the animals, that ho was something else....but back to Mary. I mean, I guess I liked the smell of shit, the warm feel of a nice hard log as it emerged from a chick's sphincter. That shit always got me off. I couldn't have a decent spank on my dick without thinking of a girl taking a crap. I'd thought about eating it before too, but just never had the guts to do it. It looked like I was going to have to be up to the challenge.
get your anal sex here! (_0_)
hemos fucks will dunn goats!
wtf? why is having an accent racist? maybe its hard to make up an all new alien accent? maybe the people were jamaican and japanese that did the accents? why are you getting upset over nothing? this is like saying "some of the aliens sounded like white americans! im outraged!"
idiotic.
What a homo..look what this guy said about stopping by the filming of Jay and SB Strike Back:
As I walked closer, I was passing by Shannon Elizabeth (all kinds of cute), Jason Mewes, Dwight Ewel, Joey Lauren Adams (looks great in person by the way), Brian O'Halloran, Jeff Anderson, Renee Humphrey (sweet), Walt Flannagan (almost as sexy as Mewes)
At first I had to remember this was a GUY writing this article, made me think twice.
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Rum, Sodomy and the Lash
..." James pleaded, his voice hoarse with barely-
..." It was too much, he couldn't hold
... this *droplet* I've been given, and I want it *now*!"
... He shook
..." Hetfield growled. He drew his sword and just ran towards Lars, blade extended, looking for all the
..."
... can I ask you a question?" he finally
...
...
... are you?"
... I wish he's stop
... *his* Jason was
... no, *making
... He shivered with sudden
...? Then, it dawned on him. "Oh, about the
... Kirk told me he ...
by Armelle Amaya
Captain James Alan Hetfield stood on the bridge of his
ship, the Defiant. The Caribbean sun burned high in the clear blue sky, highlighting his white-blonde hair. The
sea was calm and blue, surpassed in blueness only by James' eyes, and his men were exceptionally good-
humoured today.
After making sure his crew could manage without him for a few hours, he walked towards his cabin, whistling in
anticipation of the one thing that would make this day more perfect than it already was.
He sneaked into his cabin, silently closing the door, and just stood there watching his cabin boy straighten
the sheets on their bed. "That's just gonna get messy again, you know," he grinned.
Kirk whirled around, startled, and clutched his chest.
"Fuck, James, don't fucking *do* that! You took ten years off my life."
"Sorry," James apologised, not looking very sorry at all. He was, in fact, grinning widely, letting Kirk
know exactly how these sheets were going to get messy.
Kirk rolled his eyes. "You're insatiable."
James strode towards the bed, scooped up Kirk and dropped him in it. "Shut up, boy," he growled
playfully, quickly dishevelling Kirk of the few clothes he was wearing. "I bought you, I own you. Now earn your
keep."
With that, he lay down on the bed, arms folded behind his head, making it very clear that he wasn't planning
on doing anything really strenuous that day.
Kirk's eyes lit up; it was only rarely that his lover allowed him to take the upper hand in their lovemaking.
He took a deep breath, determined to make this last as long as he could, to make it count.
Slowly, deliberately, he peeled James' shirt off, then neatly folded it and placed it on the chair next to the
bed. James watched him, amused, as Kirk repeated the ritual with his trousers, leaving him completely
uncovered.
An evil grin crossed his face as he loomed over James Hetfield, aka 'The Mighty Hetfield'. His lover, his
owner, the other half of his soul, whose body he knew better than his own, and he knew exactly how to make
this wild, powerful man beg for mercy.
Kirk started by attacking James' nipple, first licking it gently, then using his teeth, biting it until it was
hard as a pebble, and James was making incoherent sounds of pleasure. The other nipple received the same
treatment, and by that time James was moaning outright.
"Like that, huh?" Kirk smiled, looking into his lover's blue, dilated eyes. He loved it when James got like
this, aroused by his touch, *his* touch, all his.
"Come here and I'll show you exactly how much I like that," James drawled, his mouth lifting up in a lazy
grin. Kirk eagerly complied and let his face hover about an inch above James' for a few seconds before
lightly brushing his lips across his lover's. James deepened the kiss, not taking control but just slowly
delving into the heat of Kirk's mouth, and Kirk was only too happy to oblige and return the favour.
When they finally had to come up for air, Kirk whispered, breathlessly: "Now, where was I?" and moved
down James' body again, seeking out more sensitive spots, both old, familiar ones and ones he didn't know
about yet. Before long, the most feared pirate captain that ever sailed the seven seas was squirming under his
hands. He lived for moments like these.
"Kirk
contained lust.
"Say 'please'," Kirk demanded, pinning James' arms to
the bed.
"Kirk," James tried to threaten, but Kirk would have
none of it.
"Say 'please'," he insisted.
"Please?" James gave in.
"Good boy." Kirk took pity on his lover and slowly moved inside him, while James threw his head back and
let out a deep moan.
Kirk took the open invitation and gently bit his lover's neck, following up the bite with soft, wet
flicks of his tongue. James moaned deeply, causing Kirk to grin against him neck.
James moaned again, nearly growling, and Kirk shivered with barely contained desire. Slowly, teasingly, he
pulled almost all the way out, then slid back in again, filling his lover deeper than before.
"Oooohhhh, fuck!" James shouted. "More, please, Kirk more, I love you
still anymore and plunged deep into his lover, setting a slow, torturous rhythm. It was a long time before
they both came.
Afterwards they lay together, entangled in the bed sheets, sweating from the labour and the heat; and
all was well with the world.
Meanwhile, just behind the horizon, another captain was having a slightly less perfect day. Jason Newsted,
captain of the Valiant, had a pounding headache. Today had not gone very well.
His men were on the verge of mutiny because of the long time without shore leave and it had taken all his
authority to avoid an actual uprising. He wouldn't be able to keep them obedient for long, though, not with
the drink water supply down to only one barrel for the whole ship. And on top of all that there was -
"Captain Newsted!" A shrill female voice cut the air, making several of his most hardened men wince.
Jason groaned inwardly. Why the fuck had he ever agreed to transport this spoiled aristocratic girl to her
intended husband in Brazil? He was a trade captain, dammit, not an escort service!
"Yes, m'lady?" He forced himself to smile and be polite. After all, Monsier d'Axl was one of the most
influential businessmen in Europe, even if his daughter Rose was a first-class bitch.
"Captain Newsted, my father did not pay you handsomely so that I would have to go without washing! I demand
more water than this
Suddenly, the headache became a good thing, because without it he'd surely burst out laughing at the
of outrage on the young woman's face. "Miss d'Axl," he explained as calmly as he could, "We have very little
drinking water left. You've already been issued three times what the men get, so until we've stocked up
you'll have to either wash with salt water, or not at
all."
The woman opened her mouth, clearly outraged, but
before she could utter another word he interrupted her.
"Look, why don't we discuss this matter further in my cabin? I'm sure you'd be more comfortable discussing
your personal hygiene without the whole ship listening on." Damn, he was going to pay for that remark,
but the muffled snickers all around him were worth it. This was
one subject where his crew was still behind him.
As the 'lady' hmmpf-ed and strode towards the captain's
cabin, nose high in the air, Jason turned to his second-in-command. "Ulrich, set course for the nearest
island, as fast as you can. And keep an eye out for pirates. I think the Defiant was last seen in this
area."
The little Dane saluted and started to rattle off orders as his captain trudged after his bane. Lars
shook his head in sympathy. This was definitely their worst journey ever.
Little did he know it was about to get worse.
A loud pounding noise brought James and Kirk from their sex-induced haze. At James' growl the door opened to
reveal a widely-grinning man.
"Ship comin' our way, cap'n. Looks like it's real loaded." The man didn't blink an eye at the sight of
the captain and his 'personal slave' in bed together. It was just one of those things that made up life as
usual aboard the Defiant.
James sighed, reluctant to stop being a lover and start being a fighter again. "I'll be right out," he told the
messenger, who nodded and promptly returned to the deck. James swung his long legs out of the bed and got
to his feet. After getting dressed, he told Kirk to stay in the cabin while they were fighting and went
outside to lead his men to yet another victory.
Lars was the first on the Valiant to catch sight of the black pirate flag near the horizon. "Sit!" he yelled,
"That's all we fucking needed. Damn, damn, *damn*!" Adding a few curses in Danish for good measure, he
quickly ran to the captain's cabin.
He could hear the 'damsel', as the crew had taken to calling her, yelling and screaming within paces from
the solid door. Lars grimaced. If this was what ladies were like, he'd rather stick with prostitutes and bar
girls, thank you.
He pounded on the door before opening it, not waiting for answer first. The bad news must've been apparent on
his face, because Jason took one look at him and sighed.
"Let me guess: the Defiant."
Lars nodded.
"Any chance it's any other pirate?"
"You know any other pirate that sails under a black,
snake-adorned flag?"
Jason sighed again. "Stay in here," he told the 'Lady'
and her chaperone. Once on deck, he ordered one of his
men to guard the door to his cabin and to stay there no
matter what.
"Hey," Lars nudged his friend in the side. "Don't look
so worried. It's just a pirate. We've encountered those before."
"Yeah, but this is *Hetfield*! Shit, they don't call him 'The Mighty" for nothing, you know. And the worst
thing is that now we'll have to be around *her* for even longer."
Lars chuckled at that last one. "Stop worrying. We'll make it. We're a great team."
Yeah, they were a great team alright. If only Lars realised how Jason truly felt about him
his head. He had pirates to worry about, he didn't have the time to stand there mooning about his friend.
"Is there any way we can outrun them?"
Lars shook his head. "No. No ship on earth is faster
than the Defiant."
"And the army that can defeat James Hetfield hasn't been formed yet," Jason added. "Well, he's not gonna
get us that easy," he frowned, sounding determined, and started to give out orders.
The fight was long and vicious, lasting well into the
afternoon. In the end, only Jason and Lars were still standing, back to back, surrounded by the pirates.
Suddenly the crowd parted to let a tall, blonde man pass.
"Mr Hetfield, I assume?" Lars grinned at the pirate captain striding towards him. Jason cast a worried
glance over Lars' shoulder, but figured Lars could more than take care of himself.
"You assume correctly. And you are?"
"Lars Ulrich; I'm the one that's gonna kick your ass."
Lars grinned broadly.
Hetfield chuckled in amusement. "You? Kick *my* ass? What're you gonna do, jump up and bit me in the balls?"
Lars shrugged quasi-careless. "That could work," he said, right before he proceeded to do just that. Jason
turned around to see the feared pirate bend over in pain, and snickered.
"You
world like a charging bull. Lars calmly stepped aside, with Jason following suit, and James stumbled into the
crowd, almost killing a few of his own men.
Hetfield turned around, now facing Jason, and attacked again, this time displaying all the skill that had made
him so notorious. All Jason could do was parry the strikes; there was no way he could get a blow in on
James Hetfield.
It was only a matter of minutes before the fight was over and Jason was lying on the ground with a sword at
his throat. He looked up into Hetfield's eyes, refusing to back down. Time stood still for a few heartbeats
while two strong wills battled. Then the sword was removed, and Hetfield let Jason get up.
"Take those two to my cabin, and guard them," he
ordered. "And don't forget to disarm them!"
"Hey Hammett! Company!"
Grumbling, Kirk dragged himself over to the door. "What?" he snarled.
"Sorry man, captain's orders. These two are to stay here 'till he gets back. He's checking out the loot."
"Yeah, yeah, let 'em in. You mind if I get dressed?" he
asked the two men, who were entering the cabin hesitantly.
The taller one blushed furiously at the sight of Kirk's naked body, and even more deeply when he caught sight
of the disarrayed bed. When the guy saw Kirk's tattoos,
the flames on his hips, which were symbols of tribe, and the letters arching over his stomach,
reading 'Property of J.A. Hetfield', he turned so red Kirk was afraid he was going to burst a vein.
"Who are you two, anyway?" he asked, quickly donning a lose pair of trousers and roughly straightening the
covers of the bed. "Oh and have a seat, please." He gestured towards some chairs and settled on the bed
himself, legs crossed.
"Jason Newsted, captain of the Valiant."
"Lars Ulrich, first mate." He had an odd accent, Kirk noted. Considering the name, he was probably
Scandinavian or something. Kirk let his eyes rake over the shorter man's body. Not bad, he decided, short but
muscled. Nice eyes. And completely oblivious to the cause of his captain's embarrassment.
"Kirk Hammett, pleasure slave," he grinned, delighting in the returning blush on Newsted's face. Gods, but
this guy was easy to tease. He hoped James wouldn't return for a while yet, so he could have some more fun
with them. "So, can I get you gentlemen anything? A drink, something to eat, anything?"
"No thank you," Ulrich declined. Newsted continued to look uncomfortable and seemed rather relieved when
James stormed in a few moments later, looking like he wanted to strangle someone. Kirk frowned; normally his
lover was in a good mood after a victory.
"Kirk, take the shorty here and make yourselves scarce for a while. I need to talk business with captain
"Newsted," Kirk provided, helpfully.
"... with captain Newsted here."
"Yes, sir," Kirk saluted. He gestured for Ulrich to
step through the door. "After you, kind sir."
After the door shut behind them, there was an awkward silence as both of them tried to think of something to
say. Then Kirk went over to the rail and hauled himself on it, crossing his legs. There was another awkward
silence as Lars tried to think of something to think.
"So, um
mustered.
"Sure, go ahead."
"How come you seem so happy?"
Kirk lifted his eyebrows. Of all the questions he'd been expecting, this was definitely not one. "What do
you mean?"
"Well, it's almost like you enjoy being Hetfield's
pleasure slave," Lars explained, blushing a little at the last few words.
Kirk snickered. "Gee, whatever gave you that idea?
Look, Mr Ulrich -"
"Lars," Lars interrupted.
"Lars," Kirk smiled, and the sun suddenly seemed to burn a lot brighter. "James would set me free the
second I'd ask him. I want to stay with him, just like I wanted to have this tattoo, and like I want to sleep
with him. Not because he makes me, but because I want
to. Because I love him."
Lars frowned. "Love cannot exist between men. And
intercourse between to members of the same gender is a
sin."
Kirk shrugged. "It's not a sin to *my* gods. So,
anyway," he abruptly changed the subject. "What
happened back on your ship that made James so angry?"
"I dunno. I mean he was a bit pissed when I bit him,
but -"
"You bit him?" Kirk interrupted.
"Um, yeah." Lars blushed vaguely and then gave Kirk a
quick report of the fight, making the slave giggle
hysterically.
"Oh gods," he panted, "Poor James. You're a madman,
Uli."
"Thanks," Lars grinned. "But I don't think that's what
made him angry. I have the feeling he's had the
pleasure of meeting Miss d'Axl."
"So," Hetfield said, pulling up a chair. "Let's talk
business." Jason looked up, surprised. Business? "I
want to make you an offer. Normally, I'd just take your
cargo and let you on your way. However, I'm willing to
let you go, *with* your cargo, on one condition. That
'lady', Miss D'Axl, I want to keep her."
Jason frowned in confusion. What would Hetfield want with her, when he had Kirk? Then he noticed the red,
hand-shaped mark on the other's cheek, and grinned inwardly. Apparently the pirate had had encountered the
lady's temper. "What would you do with her?"
"Well, I thought Kirk could use some help with his
duties as a cabin boy, so he'd be free to fulfil his
other duties."
The image of the damsel cleaning up the pirate's mess was so appealing Jason simply forgot to blush at the
reference to the pleasure slave. It was tempting, very tempting. He could get back at her *and* keep his
cargo. He sighed deeply.
"Much as I'd like to, I can't. I gave my word I'd
protect her. Besides, I'd be ruined; her father is the most influential businessman in Europe. If I'd leave
his daughter with a pirate, I may as well become one myself."
"Actually," Hetfield said, his voice thoughtful. "Maybe
you should. I could use a second ship."
Jason stared at him in shock. Was the man really saying what he thought he was saying? He couldn't be. Hetfield
was notorious for being a loner; the only pirate of his calibre who didn't use multiple ships to expand his
power and influence. Why would he suddenly ask a total
stranger to be his second in command?
"Because you're the first one I want to be my adjunct," Hetfield said in answer to the question that was clear
on Jason's face. "You're the best sword fighter I've ever encountered, you're brave, a good captain, and
true to your word, like you just demonstrated. And,
well, I like you."
"What about my men?" Jason wanted to know.
"They can stay under your command, if they want to.
Those who don't will be brought to the nearest trade
harbour."
He considered Hetfield's words for a few moments. It was certainly tempting, and not just because of the
money - though that certainly played a big role. No,
there was also the fact that he wouldn't have to suck up to bastards like Mr d'Axl anymore; nor would he have
to be polite to their daughters. And maybe, hopefully, being around Kirk would open Lars' mind to the idea of
a relationship with a man. Lars
"I need to think about this," he told Hetfield. "And
talk about it with my First Mate."
The pirate arched an eyebrow. "You discuss things like
this with a subordinate?"
"He's not just my subordinate," Jason explained. "He's
my friend."
Lars looked up as the door to the cabin opened and
Jason came out, looking immersed in thought. As he
walked up to his friend he heard Hetfield order one of
his men to take the two of them back to the ship and
organise guards to be on the Valiant for the night.
He frowned. What did the pirate want from them that he
didn't already have? He opened his mouth to ask Jason,
but the latter shook his head. "Not now," he said
cryptically.
As soon as they were inside Jason's cabin, Lars
demanded to know what was going on. After Jason told
him briefly what they'd been offered, he was silent for
a moment. "So, are you going to do it?" he asked,
hesitently.
"Maybe
"Maybe. Only if you will."
"I will if you will," Jason smiled.
"Then I guess we will," Lars grinned, and they both
burst out in laughter at the idiocy of their
conversation.
Six Months Later
----------------
Kirk was lying on the deck of the Defiant, basking in
the sun, waiting for his lover to return. James was on
the Valiant, talking to Jason and Lars about their
latest fight. Both ships were lying in the bay of
Sandman Island, the pirates' home base.
"Hey, Quirk, is this what you do all day while the rest
of us are risking our lives?" He opened his eyes and
saw Lars standing over him. He grinned at the Dane and
got up.
"Hey, I have to keep up my tan, don't I? So, what're
you doing here? Where's James and Jason?"
Lars rolled his eyes. "Jase insisted that I have my arm
seen to."
Kirk frowned at his friend. "Did you get hurt?"
"It's just a scratch; Jason's overreacting," Lars told
him, but followed him to the cabin nevertheless.
"C'me here, let me see this 'scratch'," Kirk ordered.
Lars rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a wound,
nothing serious, but deeper than a 'scratch'. "Jason
was absolutely right. This needs to be disinfected or
it could be worse."
Lars muttered something intelligible.
"What?" Kirk inquired.
"Nothing," Lars sighed. "It's just
treating like a little kid. I may be short, but I'm not
weak."
"He knows that," Kirk laughed. "He's just worried about
you Lars. We all worry about the people we care about.
Hell, you should see me with James sometimes; I'm worse
than Jase is with you and no one would call James
weak."
"Yeah, but you're lovers, that's different," Lars
insisted. Kirk just looked at him oddly. "What?" Lars
asked, confused.
Kirk laughed, shaking his head. "Gods, you're either
really dense, or really in denial. You really mean to
tell me you don't know that Jason is head over heels in
love with you?"
"*Jason*?!?" Lars exclaimed, incredulously. "No way!"
"Way. And I, for one, think you should take this
opportunity. Look, Lars, true love is a rare thing.
Don't let it slip through your fingers."
Lars shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and
stood, abruptly. "I need to clear my head," he told
Kirk, and exited the cabin without waiting for an
answer.
Lars leaned over the rail, staring off into the sea,
not really seeing anything. Jason
in love with him? He couldn't believe it, but if
anyone'd know it would be Kirk. And just when had he
started to think of Jason as 'his', anyway?
He moaned quietly. How the hell was he supposed to
handle this? Should he tell Jason that he knew? If he
did, should he make it clear that he didn't feel the
same way? Was he *sure* he didn't feel the same way?
Lars tried to imagine having sex with
love* with Jason. Would it hurt? Kirk sure seemed to
enjoy it, and he'd seen enough glimpses of the two
lovers to know that the roles were reversed every now
and then, too. He couldn't picture James Hetfield
voluntarily doing anything really painful.
Still, would *he* like *Jason* to do that to *him*?
Would he like to do it to Jason? He closed his eyes,
calling up his friend's face and imagined kissing him,
slipping his tongue between those lips, feeling those
strong arms around him
lust.
Fuck, why had it taken him so long to get a clue? He'd
had a kind, generous, loving man right beside him for
years, and he'd never known. "I'm an idiot," he mumbled
to himself.
"Yes, you are," a deep voice came from behind him,
frightening the hell outta him. He turned on his heels
to see James, grinning at the expression on Lars' face.
"What were you so lost in thought about?"
"Nothing. Everything. Ask Kirk, and tell him thanks
from me," Lars rushed out as he ran towards the other
end of the ship, where a small rowboat was waiting to
take him back to the Valiant.
After a few endless minutes, he was finally aboard his
ship, where Jason was waiting for him. "What'd Kirk
say?"
"Huh?" Lars frowned, momentarily confused. How did
Jason know
arm. It's fine, he cleaned it and put a bandage on it
to keep it from infecting. Look, Jase, can I talk to
you in private?"
"Um, yeah, sure, I guess," Jason answered, sounding
bewildered. He followed Lars to the cabin.
Once inside, Lars turned to face Jason, and took a deep
breath. "Listen,
hethinksyou'reinlovewithme." The last part came out in
one bif rush.
Jason swore. "Damn Hammett, why can't he ever mind his
own business?"
"So, it's true?" Lars insisted.
"Yeah, it's true," Jason looked down, not meeting Lars'
eyes.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Lars' tone was soft,
sweet. It gave Jason the courage to lift his head and
gaze into his friend's eyes, almost getting lost in the
emerald depths.
"Because I was sure you weren't interested in men."
"Idiot," Lars chided softly, stepping closer to Jason
until he was pressed against the taller body. "We
could've had so much longer."
Jason leaned down and pressed his lips to Lars' own.
"No regrets," he said. "Let's just make up for all
those years, okay?"
Lars grinned against Jason's lips. "Sound like a plan."
James looked after the Dane, bewildered. What the hell
was that all about? He went to his cabin, where Kirk
was putting away his medical equipment. "What did you
do to Lars?" he asked. "He was acting really weird."
Kirk smiled secretively. "Oh, nothing. I just made him
see what was right in front of him."
James regarded his lover sternly. "Have you been
playing matchmaker again?" A semi-innocent whistle was
his only answer. He sighed. "Well, he said to thank
you, so I guess you've been successful." He shook his
head in mock tolerance. "Though I really wish you'd
stay out of people's personal lives."
"I just can't help it, I want *everyone* to be as happy
as you're making me." James moved forward and wrapped
his lover up in his arms.
"I love you too," he whispered in Kirk's ear. Kirk just
smiled and lifted his head for a kiss.
Meanwhile, on an island not that far away, the former
Lady Rose d'Axl was cleaning out a pig's stall. She was
not happy. For almost six months now, she'd been the
slave of an old native woman, forced to live in
primitive circumstances and do hard labour. "I hate my
life," she grunted. "God, I wish the old wench would
just drop dead.
The 'old wench' was, at that very moment, talking to
her pig. "Don't worry, Rosie's just cleaning you crib.
She's young, she can do it, unlike poor old me. Wasn't
it *so* sweet of my Kirky to give his momma a present
like that?"