Hello my fellow readers and writers! I know, it's been a while since I did anything, but fear not! For I am back with a vengeance! Sorta… anywhos, this is the very first POTC fan fic eveah! I actually got this idea from a role play I did with someone on Gaia in the yaoi guild. Personally, I never saw Norrington and Jack together, but he wanted to play James, so eh, what the hell? And it was so good, I decided to make it into a fan fic. So I hope you enjoy it!

PS – my writing's improved. I hope you like it!

PSS – yeah… Norrington's alive… just run with it.

PSSS - eventually, it will turn to rating M.

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC

Opportune Moment

One: Leverage

It was a usual night in Tortuga, though deathly cold. Through the dark night air, the shouts and songs of drunken men and women were heard singing to the stars. The flickering of several torches lit up the dark water around the island, as the merry pirates went along with their business. One of the pubs near the docks, Dead Man's Tavern, seemed to be the liveliest that chilly night. Scruffy old men went caroling out of it, pints in their hands and rum on their breath. Inside, the common song and dance of alcohol took place, in a cheery yet fowl ballet of pirates and tavern wenches. But not all was fool hearty that night. Near a darkened corner, secluded from the rest of the tavern, sat two figures, huddled over a table with only candles to light their faces. One, a slightly plump, scruffy man with a gleam in his eye and an air for mischief. The other was taller, though he hunched the most of the two. He had long dreads which he kept under a tattered, tri corner hat and maroon scarf. On his person was a sword, gun, compass, and all other manor of bangles and trinkets, collected from the entirety of the world. In his hand decorated with large rings sat a mug of rum. The plump man looked a bit worried as he brought it to his lips.

"Cap'in," he said, "I think ye've been haven a bit too much ta drink… I mean, more'en usual, at least…"

"Nonsense, Gibbs!" the other slurred as he downed the rest of the rum. "You can never have too much!" He slammed the mug down to the table and Gibbs shot him a worried look.

"Bu' Jack," he said, "we've been all o'er the waters, an' ya've been drunk this whole time."

"I can't help myself if I get a bit tipsy every now and again," Jack hiccupped. "Besides, have you ever sailed the oceans smashed? Quite an experience…"

As Gibbs continued to get his captain to reconsider drinking, something else was taking place just outside Dead Man's Tavern. Just off the docks, a small dinghy drew up and weighed anchor. A man stepped out, a cloak concealing his face and brushing down to his feet. He walked towards the tavern, the heals of his boots clanking on the wooden dock. Walking in, his gray eyes scanned the several, bobbing heads for one in particular. He then spotted the darker, secluded room, where Captain Jack Sparrow and his first mate Gibbs, sat. Swiftly, the man walked through the buzzed crowd and into the dark room. Before Gibbs could warn the other, the man had pulled out his sword and put it to Jack's throat.

"So we meet again, Mr. Sparrow," came the unmistakable voice of James Norrington. Jack looked up, his eyes hazy. He gave a toothy grin, his gold fillings shining in the light.

"Ah!" he said. "Mr. Norrington! 'Ow nice to see you again!" In one swoop, Jack threw his arm around Norrington's shoulders and pulled him down as if they were the oldest of friends. "Lookie here, Gibbs! Is Mr. Norrington!"

"Ah… Cap'in?" said Gibbs carefully. "I don think tha's the bes idea…"

"Get off of me!" Norrington ordered, trying to push away Jack and his vile, alcohol drenched breath. He got out of Jack's grasp and once more held the pirate at sword's length. "Now then," he said, "back to business. I have finally found you, Mr. Sparrow, so I would appreciate it if you would come along quietly."

"Captain Sparrow," Jack corrected. "Now… What makes you think I'd ever come along quietly, Commodore?"

"Jack," Gibbs warned. "Now ain't the time to…"

"Oh, quiet, Gibbs," Jack snapped. He got up, wobbling more then he usually did. His intoxicated hand searching for his sword. When he finally found it, he held it up, the metal wavering uneasily before him. He then took a shaky fighting stance and put up his blade. Norrington, thinking he already won, lunged for Jack with all his might. However, he was not expecting what happened next.

In the blink of an eye, Jack fought back, his sword matching every move Norrington's put up. As they fenced, it seemed as though the alcohol was slowly easing out of Jack's system. And soon, Norrington's precision and well trained technique was no match for Jack's speed, skill, and raw talent. Within minutes, Norrington's sword was cast asunder as the tip of Jack's blade was placed at the end of his neck. The cold metal rested just below his edams apple, the point pressing slightly to his skin. Jack grinned, now back to his old self.

"You see, Commodore," said Jack, "though you have succeeded in finding me, you have forgotten one very important thing."

Norrington rolled his eyes. "Spare me the theatrics, Sparrow," he spat. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"What, you're not even going to guess what I say next? Come on, mate, I say it all the time…"

Norrington sneered. "I'd rather die." Jack thought about this and then shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

CRASH!

Norrington fell to the floor as a deep green rum bottle broke over his head. The small shards of green stuck in his brown hair (for he was not wearing his wig) as he lay, face down on the ground. Jack smiled at Gibbs, who held the broken neck of the bottle in his hand.

"Good work, Mr. Gibbs," said Jack, sheathing his sword. Gibbs nodded, tossing the bottle neck to the side.

"I suggest we take off now, Cap'in," he said, grabbing his affects.

"I second the suggestion," said Jack. He then knelt down and grabbed Norrington's arms. "Well come on. I can't carry him by myself." Gibbs looked at him as if insane.

"Cap'in… what are ya?"

"I spy an opportune moment, Mr. Gibbs," said Jack. "Mr. Norrington here could be just the kind of leverage we need. Now help me and grab his feet." Gibbs gave a wry look but did as he was told, grabbing Norrington's boots. They then made it out of the tavern with ease, carrying the unconscious Commodore towards the Black Pearl.

Sorry if it's a bit short. Just a set up of the rest of the story. My chapters should be longer later. So, tell me what you think! Leave a review, or else I won't write more! And believe you me, there is much more!

T.