How Norrington Came Back To Life #3875
Culprit: Cherusha
PotC/Doctor Who crossover
Pure crack. Slashy implications.
When he came, it was like an oncoming storm engulfing a defenseless Dauntless fishing boat. Or like an army of undead pirates attacking Port Royal if Port Royal had been defenseless, that is, without the Royal Navy to protect her shores. Or perhaps like a small Japanese man inhaling a mountain of long bread-wrapped sausage foodstuffs.
Unexpected, not that he knew. He was dead.
He was dead. Pretty sure he had been fatally stabbed by a walking starfish some time ago. A lifetime ago. And now he was sitting on a shore and very clearly feeling the sharp rocks chafing his behind in a blood-flowing, nerve-stimulating, alive kind of way.
"Hullo!" said the man with a grin that looked more maniacal than cheerful in the shadow of the sun. Cheerfully maniacal?
Norrington blinked into the brightness of even white teeth, opened his own mouth to talk as politeness ordained, and started choking literally on his own words.
"Ah yes," said Man, "Side effect humans have over coming back from the dead. Heart pumping again, senses returning, neurons transmitting tiny coded messages across synapses, cells regenerating, muscles de-rigor mortising… Amazing! All that activity's bound to make anyone a little loopy. Takes some getting used to, this being alive again -- I should know. Not to worry, it'll pass in a day or two."
Norrington was standing up, ready to tell smiling Man to stuff it in a place where it will be physically impossible for the sun to shine -- with his fist. He didn't get far, however. His legs turned to pudding and he promptly fell on his face.
"Hm. Suppose I'll have to carry you now," Man said, a bit put off by the prospect.
Just when Norrington was seriously considering taking the nearest sword out of its sheath and stabbing himself to death – because Man would simply not shut up – his voice returned.
His first question, despondent and sincere, was "Why?"
"—found that by reversing the polarity—Ah! Back, are we? Took a little longer than usual, have you been having suicidal thoughts recently? Why are we here in this world in general, why would reversing the polarity do the trick, why did you die, why do you live, why do we even use the word why to question that which we do not know?"
There was a long look between man and Man as the seconds ticked past. One face showed irritable frustration, the other showed infinite amusement. Norrington pondered the possibility of Hell.
"Why- am I here?"
"You mean here in this inn or here on Earth, as in alive in general? Well," the man took a deep breath, "to answer your second question, you're here alive because I plucked you out of the group of possible candidates who were queuing up for – what were you waiting for, boats? Hmmm. The reason being, of course, you were dressed appropriately for the job. Admiral of the navy? Nice brocade. Forgive me for the exposition, by the way. Your skills at sea will be quite useful to me. And, as for your first question as to why we're staying here… it was the best I could find. My TARDIS is lost at sea."
He grinned. "You're going to help me find it."
"Doctor, by the way," he said offhandedly as they were, and Norrington couldn't believe he was doing this, about to commandeer a ship.
"Doctor what?" whispered Norrington.
"No, not 'Doctor What'. Just 'The Doctor'."
They were crouched against the side of the boat and under the cover of darkness. Norrington could hear the steady steps of the lone guard marching above from bow to stern. "Can't believe we're about to commandeer a royal vessel," he muttered, not missing the irony of the situation. Norrington had found out during the day that it was the private boat of a governor who had also secretly used it to smuggle illegal firearms to Spanish mercenaries. It was a cheap ploy to have the governor be corrupt in order to somehow lessen the crime of stealing in the eyes of the reader, but whatever, thought Norrington. The entire paragraph was already looking shamelessly tacked on, but at least they would not be defenseless if they ran into trouble.
The guard had been almost disappointingly easy to take down, and Norrington mentally sniffed at the slackness of combat training in the Navy these days. Which might explain how Elizabeth had become so much better at sword fighting after a few months training than most naval officers who'd spent years in the navy did. Anyway, Man – The Doctor had helped Norrington tie up the unconscious guard, and they left him sleeping against a pig, who incidentally happened to be there, on the docks instead of in the pig pen where it'd usually be found.
"Nothing like the open sea air, James!" cried the Doctor as he stood on the bow of the ship, arms spread out like wings.
"Perhaps, now that we are out of imminent danger, it would be time you told me where you last left your… box, was it?"
"More exposition, is it? Mmm, it was a ship. On that Tortuga island. I accidentally landed on it. No one was on board at the time so I went ashore just to see what all the fuss was about, great collection of pubs by the way, returned the next morning and it was gone! Both TARDIS and ship."
Norrington checked that his fortune, which had spiked when he returned to the land of the living, was sauntering in a downwards direction ever since. Tortuga usually meant only one kind of ship: a pirate ship. Full of pirates. One simply could not imagine a more desirable destination. Well done, Doctor, thought Norrington.
"Can you describe this ship?"
The Doctor looked at him oddly. "Standard issue, I'd say. Sailing ship, Jolly Roger… Although!" The Doctor snapped his fingers and Norrington's eyes widened.
"Black sails. The ship had black sails."
SOMEWHERE IN THE CARIBBEAN …
"It's a gift! From the goddess Calypso for settin' her free!"
"An' I says it's an omen. An' we should be gettin' rid of it if we's wanting to live through the night!"
"Bad luck to be having a blue box on board..."
"Arrr, just shut up! The whole lot of you! Use yer eyes, ya buncha imbeciles. Now. What says ye do ya see?"
"Er, a box? A blue box belongin' to... Po-lice? It's French!"
shot from pistol BANG!
long suffering sigh
"This is a locked box. And what, gentlemen, do we usually keep in locked boxes?"
The TARDIS had never witnessed a more blatant display of greed and lasciviousness as she had on that day.
They anchored in Tortuga so they could try and find out to where the Black Pearl was heading when it last left port. They had pried their way through the entire island's worth of drinking establishments and Norrington was hanging on to his last wispy thread of sobriety. He sat at a sticky, bloodstained table, head in hands and the beginnings of a gigantic headache manifesting, while the Doctor paced back and forth. The bartender was drumming his fingers on the counter, getting increasingly annoyed at the few unwanted customers who still refused to leave the pub well after last call. Besides the two newcomers to the island, one man was lightly snoring in the corner, his hat covering his face, another was sobbing brokenly "Stella... Stella..." into his glass of rum, and a 17th century yuppie ("suppie") was arguing with the barmaid over his tab. It was like a pretentious student film project on the meaninglessness of life.
"Dammit!" the Doctor said. "There must be some way we can find out!"
Norrington sighed. "Look, if we're planning to make this island our semi-permanent residence and spend the rest of our days here interrogating the ne'er-do-wells in pirate-infested pubs until we find the information we're looking for, I'm going to need some supplies. And a real doctor for when I'm stabbed one of these days for being a great big nuisance, asking too many damned questions and vomiting over someone's boots."
"That's the single longest sentence you've said to me so far!" said the Doctor in awe. "You feeling all right?"
"Just been dead," said Norrington dryly. "And am going to need sleep soon, weak human that I am, or you won't be able to find much use for me once I faint from fatigue. Maybe you will, but I'd rather you not tell me about it beforehand."
"Sleep! Yes!" the Doctor beamed triumphantly and Norrington mentally prepared himself. "We should hit the whorehouses next. There's nothing like sexual gratification from a female after a year's deprivation at sea that'll make these pirates talk." He patted Norrington's shoulder. "And you can get plenty of sleep right afterwards!"
As Norrington's head hit the table in resignation and despair, a voice from the corner of the pub, an all too familiar voice, piped up: "Or, you could skip the frustration of paying then not getting what you exactly want, then the hassle of filing complaints, then more frustrations with customer service… and come to me."
Ringed fingers swept up to pluck a hat away, and the pirate sauntered forward from the shadows. Norrington stared. Area fortune stocks took a nosedive.
"No sexual gratification necessary," said Captain Jack Sparrow. "Unless you really want to."
"You're not actually going to believe him," said Norrington for the twentieth time that day. He was seriously starting to feel like a broken record. Whatever that was.
"And that's the twentieth time, today." The Doctor looked up with a knowing smile. "Am I mistaken to think that the two of you have some sort of bad blood-slash-misunderstanding-slash-ust between you?"
Norrington scoffed out something suspiciously like "As if!" at the same time Jack, not comprehending, said "Ust?"
"I'm just worried that this pirate will be leading us into a trap like always, but far be it for me to question his credibility. I don't know why I even bother to care about your welfare, let alone that Tardis of yours. Let's all throw caution to the wind. By all means, trust the man with the mouth full of gold and questionable hygiene who we picked up at a pub in Tortuga, right up until the minute he stabs you in the back. Should I call you Caesar next?" Norrington continued in a manner that ventured dangerously close to rant territory.
"Why, dear ex-admiral, would I have any reason to lie, being that the same Barbossa who holds the Doctor's dear Tardis prisoner is the same bugger what has stolen my ship! Seems to me like we all have" Jack paused, "common interests."
"No, you're right," said Norrington. "I don't know what I was thinking to question your honour. I realise now that all those times you double-crossed everyone was for our own good and now, I shall lower my head in shame and repent."
"I'm no priest, Norrington. More would be required from you to pay for that time you stole m'heart. That turned out to cause" Jack's voice dipped low "a whole nest of fun. Especially for Elizabeth?"
Norrington fumed, silent and guilty and for half an hour (taking a moment out of his guilty fuming to clarify to the Doctor that it really, literally, truly was a heart and not to look for subtext in unwelcome places).
"Are you suggesting," said Jack suggestively, "that we get rid of subtext altogether and rely solely on text from now on?"
"Are you suggesting," countered Norrington acidly, "that by suggesting that we get rid of subtext altogether and stick with the text from now on, that I can give in to my dream of strangling you to death and actually do it?"
"Why Norrington. You think about me alone in your bed?"
"If you are actually aroused by the knowledge that I nightly dream of your death, then you have even worse problems than I imagined."
"It's just comforting to know I'm featured so prominently in your life."
There were deadly glares from one end and cheeky smiles from the other, and there was detached amusement from the third crew member who had, it seemed, been forgotten completely by its two other members. Just as well; the Doctor did not need more drama in his life.
"You know what would be fun, if we had a vial of Veritaserum right now," said the Doctor to no one in particular. He then took the compass back out and resumed staring at it. I want, I want, I want, he thought.
Dear MarthaRoseMarthaRomanaSarah
Dear Human Female Companion,
Day Fourteen. Out at sea. The food on ship is almost completely gone save for a year's supply of mouldy cheese. I don't mind myself, but I worry for the others on board. Can only hope we reach target soon. Currently trapped between two annoying Human Males. Require Human Female companionship, of the non-sexual kind of course, at earliest convenience. Will write again to confirm location and time, year, century, whatever, once I recover my TARDIS.
Miss you lots,
Doctor.
"There. That black dot in the distance."
Norrington looked through the spy glass. "Right. So what now? You cannot think they're going to just willingly give up your Tardis."
"No, no, course not."
"...and?"
The Doctor shrugged. "We wait."
Norrington turned to look at the Doctor like he'd gone mad. Or madder than usual in the Doctor's case. "So," he said slowly. "You're big plan all along, the plan you said you had, is to sit and wait for the cold blooded pirates to discover us, challenge them to combat, have them descend upon us like a pack of wolves and eventually kill us all. Forgive my poor hearing, but where in this line of direction accomplishes the reunion between yourself and blessed Tardis?"
Jack laughed. "Now that's thinking like a navyman, Norrington. Meself, I just want my Pearl back. Who said anything about a TARDIS?"
"And," the Doctor continued, "all we really need is to be aboard that ship."
Norrington was skeptical. "There's more to it than you, no, hang on -- you" he pointed at Jack "aren't telling me. What makes you so sure they're not just going to kill you on sight? From what you told us, you're not the best of friends right now, you and Barbossa. And you'd never be doing this if you weren't sure he wouldn't. So. What's your leverage?"
Jack smiled but said nothing.
Norrington had had enough with the lies and scheming and lies and scheming... he took out his sword and pointed it at Jack. "Tell me now."
But the swine had the absolute nerve to goad him on further by moving even closer to his sword tip. On purpose. "Norrington, luv, do put that away. If you were going to kill me, which I very much doubt as I sense you are warming up to me considerably, you'd have done it earlier." Jack was positively buzzing with glee. "Like last night. Though you were, admittedly, otherwise occupied."
Norrington stood clutching his sword with a grip so tight the pebbles on the nearest beach shook. Face red and knuckles a bloodless white, it looked as if something was about to snap. Then something did snap.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, turning his back at the sight of two grown men rolling around on the deck like a pair of overgrown school children. He was really starting to miss Martha's calm competence and Rose's delightful blonde hair. Hell he even missed his Captain Jack. As he stared angst-ridden across the vast unfeeling waters, he realised he could now see the Pearl very clearly. It seemed to be gaining speed on them. He spotted the man at the helm wearing the big hat. Captain Barbossa, he thought, very much resembled the Academy Award-winning actor Geoffery Rush.
Soon, however, his focused was tuned in elsewhere, and both hearts sped up at the sight of the TARDIS on the ship's deck. Tiny pirates were poking and prodding at the TARDIS with their tiny little swords and knives, and they were all being unforgivably rude. If he strained his ears, he could hear the shouts and curses of a very frustrated bunch. They've probably been at it for days, he guessed and marveled at the human inclination of always wanting something the most when you had no chance of getting it. It was all quite meaningless, but then that was humans for you.
The Doctor was about to sink further into introspection, but Captain Barbossa rescued him by distracting him again with a friendly wave and cheery smile.
"Hullo!" said the Doctor pleasantly, waving back as it was only polite.
No, hang on--
He barely had time to register the cannonball flying their way before he shouted:
"DUCK!"
They sat in the brig the three unfortunate souls, all tied together by a rope, back to back to back. Jack's "parley" with Barbossa had been slightly less successful than hoped. His plan to give up the whereabouts of the chart to the Fountain of Youth, which he had stolen (big surprise), in exchange for his Pearl met with the cold shoulder. Pirates would apparently trust torture methods of interrogation more than his own words given to them in free will. They had threatened him with hot coals unless he directed them to the fountain himself.
"James," whispered the Doctor. "Can you reach into my left trouser pocket?"
There was a lot of squirming going on for a few minutes after that, and Jack reflected that this wasn't the worst situation he'd ever been in. At least he had company this time.
"What's this?" Norrington whispered.
"Sonic screwdriver," replied the Doctor as if it explained everything. "Can everyone stand up on the count of three?"
There were mumbled 'yes's and aye's, and the Doctor commenced. "One-Two-Three!"
They all stood, stumbling around a bit as the centre of gravity shifted from one person to another. Jack's nose itched, so he turned to rub it in Norrington's shoulder, at which point Norrington turned to Jack and tried to bite him, shifting the centre of gravity so that they all stumbled smack into the wall.
"Now, children," said the Doctor. "Let's all concentrate on making our escape before we start killing each other."
"Right, and how are we supposed to do that with only that small metallic... thingy as a weapon. You plan on poking Barbossa's eye out?" For once Jack was inclined to agree with Norrington, though he kept silent about it.
"Just get us to the cell door," sighed the Doctor.
They all shuffled over, moving inch by careful inch.
"Rub your face in my shoulder one more time and I will make you regret it for the rest of your life," said Norrington through clenched teeth.
"It's itchy!" exclaimed Jack. "And I don't know why you're acting the blushing virgin after I--"
"Shut up!"
"Aha! Got it!"
The door swung open to the absolute amazement of two of the Prison Escape Circus Trio that they actually stopped arguing long enough to gasp.
"You've had that in your pocket this whole time and yet you failed to use it until now?"
The Doctor directed them to a sharp edge where, there, energy was focused for the next ten minutes on rubbing the rope across it, back and forth.
"Well, if everything was always resolved as quickly as possible, where would the adventure be?" the Doctor finally said after they had disentangled themselves.
"Comfortably away from him," said Norrington, backing away as far as possible from Jack as soon as he was free. Apparently hands that were not his own had been trespassing on private grounds.
"Oh, just give up the whole enemies act," said the Doctor. "At this point not even the most righteous of the Royal Navy fandom is going to buy it. Now come on!" And he sprinted up the stairs.
"Still don't feel wholly right about this," Ragetti was saying, his face downcast.
"Me neither," sighed Pintel. "But y'heard the Cap'n. Help Jack and may ye be marked as a traitor and cast inta the depths of the seeeaaa."
"Heh. Tha's a pretty good impression."
"Thanks."
"Still. To be killed once we get to the Fountain! No questions asked! An' he's always done good by me."
"Says we were ta, y'know, accidentally let slip to Jack what Barbossa'd be plannin' for him. We wouldn't exactly be helpin' him out, now would we?"
"You sayin' we should go visit 'em down in the brig now, thus givin' 'em a more's than sure chance of escapin' unnoticed, an' then after a considerable length o'time, we hurry back up an' annouce to everyone that the prisoners have escaped, thus freein' us at the same time from suspicions?"
Pintel nodded emphatically, took time to wink at the shadows where the three escapees were hiding, then descended down to the brig with Ragetti.
Yes, Virginia, they were smarter than they looked.
"But...how..." said Jack. He whistled. "Nice ship."
"You don't look surprised," said Doctor to Norrington.
"I've fought zombie pirates, stole a heart that beat by itself, managed a crew of barnacle-covered dead whose captain had a squid for a face, was killed by the father of the man who had stolen my fiancee, was brought back to life by a 'time lord' from another planet... I think I'll be okay about the ship."
The Doctor laughed, amused. "Right then! Now where should we go? 11th century? 12th century? Oooh, how would you like to visit 21st century London? We can visit my Martha! Or Cardiff. Oh, you'd love my Captain Jack, Jack." He leaped around the console, switching on this and twisting around that.
"What say we go back in time, say a month or so, and I could kill Barbossa permanently this time so he won't steal m'ship? Ever again."
"Or we could go back in time to my childhood and I could choose to pursue a career in banking instead of going into the Navy and thus resigning myself to a lifetime of pain."
"Oh, you aren't serious, surely! Or you're the most boring pair of companions I've ever had. Now I don't believe that!" He pulled a lever and waggled his brows.
"Let's see what the TARDIS will choose!" he grinned.
(Manically, thought Norrington).
[The ever-anticlimactic end
ooo-OOOOOO-ooo-ooo-ooo...eee-ooo-ooo-OOO-OOO-OOO...