By Illoria
It was an interesting series of events that had led to Norrington's current, unusual predicament. These events did, of course, involve Jack Sparrow, because, much to Norrington's displeasure, Sparrow was the only one who had ever managed to get Norrington into any sort of unusual predicament. Well, other than the one time involving Gillette not being able to hold his liquor. And even then, it hadn't been that unusual of a predicament.
No, Sparrow was definitely the only one capable of the impossibility of catching Commodore Norrington in an unusual, not to mention unfortunate, situation.
Last time Norrington had lost Elizabeth, not to mention the shaking of many of the unshakable things he had stuck to all of his life. This time, he was losing a game of cards.
"Looks like you're out of luck, mate." Sparrow tilted his head back and smiled.
"I'm quite certain that I would bet my life that you cheated, Sparrow," Norrington spat.
The pirate's grin widened. "Bet your life, eh?" he drawled.
Norrington cursed that shock of regret that leapt across his mind, but showed no outward sign of wavering, staring Jack down with all the anger that came naturally to him toward pirates. It only made Norrington angrier that Sparrow's only response was amusement.
"I cannot imagine you ever having won a single thing fairly."
Jack brought a hand up to his chest, an expression of exaggerated hurt appearing on his face. "Tha's harsh, mate. Awful harsh, considering-" the mock expression disappeared, the hand left his chest to flounder around in the air "-that you don't really know anything about me. Other than, of course, if it weren't for me, you might very well have had dear Elizabeth for yerself instead of young William. And," he added, acquiring a thoughtful expression, his index finger pointing upward in the air, "if it weren't for me, you'd have yerself a perfect record."
Norrington narrowed his eyes and grasped the edge of the
table, leaning in a little. He was about to speak, but he closed his mouth and
leaned back, lacing his fingers in front of him on the table and taking a
moment to calm himself before speaking. "And what, I wonder, do you mean by
that?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "You know perfectly well what I mean. If it weren't for me, you would be the royal navy's Undefeated. Am I correct, commodore?"
Anger boiled inside of him again. Oh, Norrington hated how Sparrow had that affect on him. Hated, hated, hated. He hated that what the pirate had said was true – if not for Jack Sparrow, Norrington would've been the one who had never once had a pirate get away, the one who always saw to it that the law remained unbroken till Judgment Day (when he would graciously let an even higher authority take over his job).
"I don't know what you're talking about, Sparrow. I am the law and I have the power to have you hanged right now if so I wished."
Something that Norrington was unable to identify darted across Jack's eyes, gone before it had come. The pirate had his composure back, as always, before he had even lost it.
"Then might I ask, commodore, why am I not hanging right now?"
Hate, hate, hate. How on earth was that pirate able to do that, to take him around in circles like that?
Norrington just knew that he didn't want to play any more of these games. He stood abruptly, folding his hands behind his back as he regarded the pirate with a gaze that most people categorized as authoritative. Norrington knew that the pirate opposite him categorized it as amusing, but he didn't waver.
"Because you won the card game," Norrington said with a nod toward the cards on the table.
Jack stood. "I thought you said I cheated."
"If you don't desire a visit to the gallows, I would suggest you get out of my
sight quicker than you hid those cards up your sleeve."
Sparrow grinned again, folding his hands together. "I believe we have an accord, commodore." He inched backward toward the door of the tavern, tipping his hat mockingly to Norrington before disappearing.
Norrington let out a long sigh and sat back down at the table, looking disgustedly at the cards. In a single sweep they were on the floor and Norrington was alone at the table with naught but a bottle of whiskey and annoyance at himself for the interesting variety of respect that had caused him to let the pirate get away once again.
Not exactly decorum, was it…?