James Norrington sat in the front pew of the church next to Governor Swann with Lieutenant Gillette sitting on his right. Looking discreetly about the church he made note of the fact that those in the best positions in Port Royal sat in the front row and then by class went down towards the back of the church.
Sighing quietly to himself he wondered when going to church became less a spiritual ritual and more a social requirement. Anyone of standing was expected to be at church every Sunday and if you didn't appear in your designated position, you were the talk of the town. A regular scandal it was if you missed a day or arrived late for the service that seemed to get longer and longer every week.
"And the Lord said to his disciples 'bring me the fish and-'"
"-'the bread'" James mouthed along with the priest. He believed in the Lord, most decidedly, but he didn't believe in sitting in a church in a dreary daze for over an hour in the hot Caribbean climate repeating things long drilled into his head from his childhood.
No, the only reason he came any more was for the music and to avoid being excommunicated from society. Well, and his Lieutenant…
He snuck a look at Gillette on his right and smirked to himself when he saw his Lieutenant dozing in his seat, his head lolling to one side. Gillette was a Catholic, not a protestant. But there was only a Protestant church in Port Royal, as it was a British colony. Still, He attended recognizing it as a place of worship to the Lord.
'At least it's not a Pagan temple' He had sniffed.
Norrington remembered very well the day that He had first informed Gillette of the lack of Protestant churches in the Caribbean. He had gone into a form of indignant rage that involved only partial sentences and much arm waving until he got himself under control. By the time this happened, he was still fuming, but he was now able to form coherent, if a little satirical, sentences berating everything he possibly could in the world. Well, at least everything English. He still sniffed about going to a church where everybody believed in the impossible and impractical. Virgin Mary! Pah! There is no way a child could be born without copulating first! Damn English!
Those were his exact words. James knew them by heart now, having heard them every week. He still went though, after Norrington had pointed out that that was one of the only MAJOR differences between Catholics and Protestants. Even so, Gillette had the tendency to snort indignantly every now and again.
However, he rarely napped during a service. He respected the church enough, at least, to stay awake, even if he didn't always pay attention.
Oh, dear, time to stand up and sing some more. Norrington did enjoy the music. He was rather fond of his singing voice but would never tell anyone that himself. Terribly rude.
A devilish smirk lit up his face when he noticed his lieutenant still asleep in his seat. The poor devil didn't know he was supposed to be standing! Well, we couldn't have that, now could we? The rumors would spread like wildfire that Gillette was not very involved in the church! Of course he wasn't, but he didn't need that now did he?
Picking up his book, Norrington cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He looked back at Gillette, smiled to himself again, and belted out the first note at the top of his voice, startling the Governor as well as his unfortunate friend.
Gillette's eyes snapped open and he jumped up from his seat, saluting automatically.
"SIR, THE LIFELINE'S SECURE, SIR!" Bewildered He looked about and, realizing where he was, turned pink with embarrassment. He glared at the commodore who was trying desperately not to laugh and give himself away, but it was futile. The grin on his face was too wide. Thankfully though James had been singing loud enough to drown out Gillette's outburst to the point where he could have been mistaken for simply singing off-key.
"That was NOT. FUNNY, sir!" He whispered harshly at his commanding officer, bowing his head slightly and looking at Norrington's songbook to keep up.