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 would hurt me if I tried. Also, I am not responsible for any genocides, tidal waves, or the invention of Dr. Pepper.
A/N: Betas. They're the new black. Mine are cherusha andfloweringjudas for this tale of the sea.
[Prologue, 1] [2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 15 ]
Commodore James Norrington of His Britannic Majesty's Navy did not run. He was a man who stood his ground. Who vanquished his foe. Who was promoted as a result of his bravery in the face of adversity.
He was also a man without a platoon of able-bodied marines armed with musket and bravery. He had no sword, no dirk, no firearm of any sort. What he did have was a pair of sopping wet breeches, a lascivious and wanton redhead attempting to climb into his lap, two hired assassins within arm's reach of his person, and a disgruntled pirate looking at him with chagrin.
"Jim! Make a ru- Oh, bugger this."
Sparrow whirled the willing redhead into the path of the two would-be killers to trip them up and ran for the door, arms flailing in front of him. James ducked low and narrowly missed one man's arms coming at him in a bear's grasp. He kicked back hard with his foot, sending his chair crashing backwards. There was a satisfying crunch as it connected with one of the men's bodies. Keeping his own body low, he dodged through the crowd and raced out the door.
Jack Sparrow was nowhere to be found.
"Wake up, MacDougal. Don't hafta be back on the ship until morning, and I plan to drink until they log me in, so wake up and get on with it."
MacDougal snorted, rubbed his eyes and drank a bit of the froth from the top of his newly filled mug.
"Where was I now?"
"Sparrow made his escape from the noose and The Scourge."
"Oh, right, right. Sparrow... he made his escape from the noose. And The Scourge that very night."
"Ach, yer telling it fine. Get on with it now."
"He slipped away after a kebbie-lebbie in the Drunken Eel-"
"Oh, I remember Maisri just fine. God love her..."
"Do you want your story or dontcha?" MacDougal fixed a sinister glare on his one-eyed friend, then picked up his tale again, "Old Jack slipped away after a brawl with two roughnecks, overcame a handful of King's Guards and stole away on his ghost of a ship..."
As MacDougal trailed off with yet another exaggerated account of Captain Jack's exploits, James sighed and harumphed to himself. That man gets more undeserved credit than- Absurd. Completely absurd.
James Norrington stood bandy-legged in the shadows next to the entrance of the pub he had just run out of looking for Jack Sparrow. Regardless of the hour, the streets were filled with drunken sailors, merchants rolling large casks to and from the docks, and women of ill-repute looking to earn a coin. Speaking of...
James slapped away the hands of one of the more aggressive ladies and kept moving, a frown of disgust as the soddened material of his breeches rubbed his thighs in an uncomfortable manner. Contrary to popular opinion, James knew that Jack was not truly capable of disappearing into thin air. The problem with catching a pirate... was that he was a pirate.
It didn't matter that there were guards watching the ship. Norrington was sure Jack would attempt to take her back and make an escape. Almost impossible to do on his own, however. He ran towards the docks which was just at the end of the cobbled alleyway he was currently on. The alley opened up onto the row of piers and there, to the left, was The Black Pearl. There were two soldiers in red coats standing just at her gangway. Completely forgetting his attire in his need to find Sparrow, he ran up to the soldiers.
And found Jack. Talking with them. One of whom had a coat that barely covered his round belly, the other slumped against-
"James! There you are. Thought you'd decided to lose your head. Like this fellow here, oh, now don't look like that, he's just going to wake up with the hell of a headache, is all."
The man in the ill-fitting uniform laughed and snapped to attention. "At your service, Jim."
James started and faced Sparrow who had been grinning until face to face with Norrington's wrath. He quickly sobered up. "Now, I don't think it prudent to invite any unwanted murderers to our conversations, Jim, do you? Now get onboard and help us get the Pearl back out to sea."
"If you believe for one second that I-"
"Don't love a good drink? Fancy a pretty girl? Love the sea and the freedom she offers? Fine, fine, I believe, I believe, now get yer bloomin' arse on board."
Jack held on to the rope that served as a handrail to the gangplank and swung close and into James' face. "We're being followed. Move."
He swung backwards and hopped up the gangplank, jumped onto the deck of his ship and hollered down, "Unless you want to die. Fine by me, either way."
The soldier who was passed out would most likely be safe until his shift change. James leaned forward and was blasted with the strong odor of rum pouring off the man in waves. At least they hadn't done anything unlawful to the poor sot. Every ounce of his training, every bit of his moral fiber was screaming at him to call 'round the guards and have the two outlaws strung up, but for the first time in his life, his beloved Navy had turned on him. A colleague was now the enemy, and- No. He couldn't bring himself to go further down that path of thought.
The Pearl before him swayed gently on the water. The sounds of whispered voices and quieted footsteps could be heard from within its belly; Mr. Gibbs had obviously allowed a few more of Jack's crewmen onboard before James' arrival. Several splashing sounds indicated that the men were putting to oars and the great anchor was being weighed.
"Jame- Jim! Now or never, mate. It's your neck." James looked up and saw Jack with his foot resting on the gangplank, ready to shove it off the railing of the ship so they could be off.
"There he is!"
A loud voice and a crash from several yards behind James quickly decided his fate for him. The two hired cutthroats had found them. James swore under his breath and ran up the gangplank, took Jack's outstretched hand and was heaved on board just as the boat gave a shudder and began its laborious task of moving back to sea. The wooden gangplank fell into the water with a large splash just as one of the men had taken a few steps up the wood. He gave a loud yawp and fell face first into the murky water of the bay.
Jack hollered to the crew to work faster, then took the helm with James hot on his heels. The men below pulled their oars in while the deckhands unfurled the remaining sails. the Pearl caught a breeze and moved out of the harbor, steadily picking up speed. James, with a heavy heart, gripped the railing tightly and watched the shoreline slowly shrink from view.
"Welcome aboard, Mate."
He hung his head. The wind ruffled the end of the scarf still tied securely in place. He whipped it off, cast it to the deck, and stomped on it.
"Easy now, that's me second best! And I'll take a bit of tea. In me rooms, of course." Jack grinned from ear to ear, then began whistling as he guided his beloved ship back onto open waters.
James Norrington's enemy had become his ally.
~TBC, Right here, in fact.