Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Rating/Pairing: PG-13 / Sparrow, Norrington
Summary: Set decades after PotC1, with flashbacks to 1 and after. Who doesn't like a little cat and mouse? Except, who's the cat and who's the mouse?
Disclaimer Own nothing, make not one red cent, Disney even sent me a bill for using the word "goofy."
A/N: No one can get by without a beta, whether you think you can or not. Mine rock. Thanks to: cherusha and floweringjudas.
[Prologue, 1] [2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 15 ]
"Ah, there she is!" Jack reached across the table towards a buxom brunette walking past their table and almost knocked over his mug of ale. James scowled and grabbed it just in time. He hadn't been able to catch the first three that Jack had knocked over, and his breeches were absolutely sopping.
"Give us a kiss, love!"
The woman stopped, reared back with her arm and swung at Jack's face. He neatly ducked, looked at Norrington and smiled. "I was expecting tha-"
The woman backhanded Jack's exposed cheek.
"Ohhh. Wasn't expecting that." He held his chin and worked it downwards and side to side.
James plucked at his damp shirt, disgust evident on his face, and hoarsely whispered, "Has there ever been a person in your entire existence who hasn't wanted to cause you bodily harm?"
Jack slumped back in his chair, deep in thought. "Well... me mum? No, that's not right. Almost knocked m'head off that one time I tried to steal her gold earbobs. Probably should have waited for her to take 'em out, first."
"Do you mean to say that you've stolen from your mother?"
"Don't look at me like that. She stole 'em first. Now, you're making it incredibly difficult to pass you off as a mute. One more word out of you, Jim," Jack bit his lip to hide his amusement, "and I'll start mentioning the eunuch part, so shut your gob. Have you not been listening all this time, man?"
"Listening?" James pressed his lips together in a tight line and muttered fiercely, trying to keep his lips still, "I can't hear a damned thing over all your blatherings and your catcalling to the ladies of this establishment!"
"Now there you go again with that delicious and authoritative talking that makes all the ladies weak in the knees, Commod- Jim." Jack sat up straight as a poker in his seat, all pretense of drunkenness gone in an instant. "Men that sit in places like this and appear to be listening - and nothing but listening - usually end up with their heads in their laps, aye? Now get a dumb look on yer face, shouldn't be hard, and pay attention to the gentlemen scheming behind you."
Jack then leaned back in his chair, let his eyelids droop a bit, and banged his mug on the table for more drink. A new beer wench made her way over to the handsome pirate and gave no protest when he pulled her into his lap. James also leaned back in his chair, relaxed his features and struggled to understand the thick brogue in which the sailors behind him were speaking.
"...says he'll give me twelve hundred pound sterling for 'is 'ead, wigged or no."
"How much for any other part of 'im?"
The two unknown men broke up into raucous laughter. James held his steel tankard up to his face, twisting it a bit to try and catch their faces in its reflection.
"...it'll be nice to not 'ave to grease the skids no more."
"You sure he'll pay? How do you know he ain't trying t'set us up? Slip the noose around our necks or just shoot us on sight fer killin' a high rankin' officer?"
"Pah. Ol' Churchy? He's being pushed offship f'good. Don't want no more trouble, just the money from all the smugglin' we've been doin' fer 'im all these years. The Scourge keeps sending our mates to Old Scratch, makes the price o'goods go up, don't it? Can't live high and fat like he planned when he's skimming off his earnings to pay us extra. Take care of our enemy, sea's free and clear again, ain't it?"
"Best we clear out, then. Them lobsterbacks should be about done with their marching and speechifying. Bet they'll be well into their cups with all that fine wine we lifted for 'em and their little party. Perfect time to slip in Old Scourge's room and-" The man made a slicing sound.
James leaned forward, ducking his head a bit, his mind racing. Honeychurch. Dammit, Jack was right. The young lady in Jack's lap laughed, feigned being scandalized by something Sparrow had murmured in her ear, then finally noticed that Jack had a table partner.
"What about your friend? Don't he need refreshing?" She tossed James her most becoming look. James kept his face neutral and rolled his mug back and forth in his hands.
"Oh, Jim? No, don't worry about him." Jack tapped the side of his head and rolled his eyes a bit. "Got cracked in the skull while we was sailing off the Gold Coast. Addled his brains. Can't ye tell by the look of him? Though, that's very kind of you....?" Jack traced the front edge of her blouse, enticing her to give up her name. She slapped his hand away playfully.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that he looks addled at all." She leaned over the table, traced James' forehead with her finger and cupped his cheek. "Dumb or no, he's awful pretty to look at."
"Well, I wash him up every six months whether he needs it or not, but he has no tongue and can't understand a word of English. Knows a few things in Portuguese, but nothing I can-"
She leaned across the table further, flipped her red hair over her shoulder and cooed to Norrington, who was having a most difficult time being still and expressionless - the hired assassins were counting out their coins, ready to leave. It certainly wasn't helping that Jack was pressing his boot down on top of James' as a warning to keep quiet.
"I bet all he needs is a little tender loving care, ain't that right, chuck?" She traced his full lower lip with her fingernail, while James looked at the edge of the table and tried to not notice how filthy her hands were. "In fact, I think he's quite lovely."
She started to stand and glide around the table towards Norrington. Norrington was trying to keep still when every instinct he had was to draw a sword and go after the two men behind him. The two men behind him were squaring their tab with the other beer wench not presently sitting in Jack Sparrow's lap. Jack Sparrow was beginning to pout at the loss of warm wench in his hands. He frowned and pulled the girl back into his lap. "He's a eunuch!"
"I most certainly am not!"
James went stock-still. The two men behind their table slowly turned, recognizing a cultured voice amongst the rabble. Jack's face fell. He pushed the girl out of his lap, gave James a hangdog expression and sighed, "Run."
~TBC, or there'll be a kebbie-lebbie fer sure. (Short, but made a natural stopping point, apologies!)