AN: It has been years since I've found myself in the PotC realm... this may be a little shoddy as I am not entirely sure on where I am going with this. Please review and let me know if I should continue this at all. ;D Definitely a Norrington and possibly Jack centered fic although not a slash fic. So sorry if I got your hopes up. ;] Just good clean het fun with some inferences here and there in typical Disney fashion, of course.
Disclaimer: The mouse owns all, although I'd love to claim some sort of ownership to Jack Davenport or at the very least his fictional Norrington-bewigged-self... .
The light cascade of rain down the French Doors echoed in the small space of the sitting room, droplets echoing slowly down the length of his cheeks. It had been three days since the proposal of his lifetime had been spat back into his face. Three days since he had lost the battle for the woman that he loved. And now he was simply wallowing in his resignation to defeat.
It certainly wasn't a familiar feeling for James Norrington to consider; defeat. Although it did revolve around a great number of highly unlikely events surrounding his -currently- only mortal enemy. Captain Jack Sparrow. Since the scalawag had seen fit to come into his town his life had been hijacked and his honor shattered. If Sparrow had remained in deeper waters Elizabeth would still be his blushing bride.
"Oh who are you kidding you old fool," The snifter of brandy was slowly lifted to his lips, breath sending ripples across the top of the dark liquid. "She'd never have picked you." He paused as if in momentary thought and snorted, "I wouldn't have picked me." A self hating smirk spread across his face as the liquid met his mouth, calming and working it's way into his system.
As the rain pelted harder against the window it drew his attentions and he rose, snifter sliding out of his hands to shatter onto the tiled floor. The crashing of glass did nothing to startle or even warrant his attention in his trance like state and he met the window with open palms and the crest of his forehead. "It's all your fault!" He accused the rain, "If you hadn't came Sparrow's Pearl would be no match for the King's fleet."
His green eyes once vibrant and shining with hope and ambition merely slid across the darkness of the skies, seemingly absorbing the angry grays of the storm clouds. An angry laugh was forced from his chest as his empty hand lifted to find the snifter long gone. He rolled his eyes, "One day's head start indeed."
The high pitched shrill of flesh rubbing against glass sounded as he inched away from the view of his backyard. A loud, sloshing thump echoed across the window he had just been stood in and slowly he turned, like a man far past his years, to take in the offender. As James craned himself lightly in the doorway he could make out the blurry vision of a black mass of feathers.
Pulling open the door he hunched himself over the bird, eyes becoming wet with rain and gently took it into his hands. Turning it over he smirked, "And I half expected you to be a sparrow." The bird was young still and appeared to be in a state of shock, it's black tongue lolling gently out of it's mouth.
James sighed and rose to his feet, carrying the poor thing inside. He had never had much luck with raising injured birds as a child, but it was worth a try at least. His shoes crunched over the previously broken snifter as he headed into his kitchen, droplets of water from his clothing and the crow dripping down the bend in his elbow and bottoms of his breeches.
He took a towel from beside the wash bin and began to dry the bird off. James passed an eye over himself and made a noise akin to that of aggravation before peeling his wet shirt off and slopping it into the wash bin. Untied and unmade hair blocked his vision partially as he cradled the injured bird in his arm, making his way into the pantry.
Grabbing the first thing he could he turned it over, dumping a good amount of perfectly good tea onto the floor to make use of the box for his ward. In passing the counter top in the kitchen he grabbed a fresh towel and set about making the box -to his best approximation- comfortable for his new companion.
The aviary was breathing quickly and awake, surveying James with a cautious eye before nestling down into the towel. James made a 'Hmph' sound and set the box down on the tea table before heading back outside. The ground was wet, fresh and full of worms.
Just as the stoned floor of the sheltered patio ended he kicked off his buckle shoes, heading into the mud barefooted as he so longed to be in many aspects of his life. Barefooted and without a care. A joy it must be.
As the wetness of the mud encased his toes he felt an inner shudder of calm run through him and he breathed deep the scent of rain. Closing his eyes to take in the moment he decided that tomorrow, yes, tomorrow -even after three days of wallowing in his own self pity- he would do something about this situation. For now he had worms to catch.
James had to admit his definition of 'doing something' last night surely had nothing to do with handing in his resignation to the Governor and buying passage on the next departing merchant vessel. No less a merchant vessel headed for Tortuga. But he had decided to go with the heat of the moment -even if the heat he was experiencing was due to imbibing a great length of brandy- and have an adventure.
He had resigned to the idea of 'if scalawags like Sparrow can get away with it so can arseholes like me' last night. Granted he hadn't put as much thought into this plan -being no thought at all- as he would have liked but that was precisely what this whole thing was about. Throwing caution to the wind and embarking onto the high seas for some fun.
Fun? Now, what exactly was that? James was not sure he could recall the definition of the word now but he was almost sure that at some point in his life he had known the definition and made use of it well. His mind flashed to several dozen social gala's he had attended at the Governor's mansion, decked to the gills in brocade and acting on ceremony... No, certainly that wasn't it. Perhaps it was running as fast as his legs could carry him into his parent's back yard and hauling himself into the apple tree... Yes, that had certainly fit the definition he was looking for.
Now, if only he could overcome the need to vomit over the rail. Perhaps drinking in excess last night hadn't been the brightest of ideas but it had been a part of ridding himself of the collected and in control version of himself. At least that was what he kept telling himself as he stumbled across the deck.
Tucking the delicate aviary in it's box underneath his arm he made his swaggering way down into the belly of the ship. The bird squawked in protest as he veered right and he chuckled righting himself, "Thank ya' Jack." A slight ruffling of feathers could be heard as it's reply and James, smirk plastered across his face, made his way to his cabin.
He felt a light prodding at his face, hand shooing away the offender only to be annoyed again by the poking. Daring to peel an eye open he surveyed the crow eying him with an annoyed look. He wasn't sure how but the animal had adopted a range of facial expressions in the short time he had taken it in. "Alright Jack, alright." James tossed his legs over the side of the bed, palms rubbing weary sleep from the lines in his face.
Quirking an eyebrow he glanced out of the porthole, desperately trying to grasp what day and time it was. It looked -by his calculations- to be nigh on noon, but he wasn't sure if he had lost a day or not. Tossing a questioning look to the crow seated beside him on the bed he was willing to bet no, as the bird had made sure to not miss a feeding yet.
James fished around in the meager sack he had brought with him, pulling the glass jar of worms he had dug out. The bird inched closer to him, beak pointed skyward in anticipation. He couldn't help the warm smile that spread across his face as he fished out the bird's morning meal. As the bird gulped it's meal down James returned the jar and stood, stretching in a fluid motion before holding an arm out in front of the crow. "Shall we?" The bird's response was to hop gingerly from the bed onto his arm, inching it's way onto his shoulder. "Good boy Jack."
The journey to Tortuga was spent in a humdrum tasks, peddling the day down into the gentle caress of nightfall and James found himself eager to make port. After all he was used to spending his time aboard a ship in a much more active fashion, not twiddling about in his purchased cabin and begging for land. And then, finally, it was as if the God's themselves responded as a voice called out from on deck, 'LAND HO!'
He heard the ship erupt into orchestrated chaos as men filled the deck and prepared the vessel to make the last leg of it's journey to the docks. James longed to be a part of the chaos, securing lines and shouting out orders over the excited din of his men. But, the sharp reality was that he wasn't helping to secure lines and, above all, this wasn't his ship.
It took the crew less time than he had figured it would for them to secure the ship at the dock and James, securing his bag over his shoulder and Jack upon his shoulder, headed onto the deck. The sunset was just disappearing, tossing a variance of colors across the sea worn wood and a light breeze flitted across his cheeks, lightly carrying away the musty layer of sweat he had acquired from being below decks for so long.
With a lung full of sea air and a smirk upon his face he descended the gangplank and headed into the uncivilized civilization that is Tortuga. He noted the town wasn't as raucous as he remembered, but the sun had set only moments ago and Tortuga certainly came alive in the darkness. As he delved deeper into the town he found the citizens to be more feisty and rum hungry, Jack squawking and flapping about as shots were fired in the middle of the streets.
A fight broke out to his left forcing him into the flow of the tavern to his right. The crow gripped tightly onto him as they were folded through the doorway of 'The Faithful Bride'. James surveyed the crowd lazily, using his fingers to attain the attentions of a nearby barmaid. Then again, how could she miss him, he seemed to be one of the tallest -at six foot three- men in the establishment this evening.
She was grimy and sickly looking, her teeth more stable than her occupation. "W'ot can I get fe'r ye' sir?"
"I'll have a rum." James pushed his hand into his inner breast pocket and his coin purse, fingering a small amount of change out and holding it open palm in front of her. As she moved to snatch it up James snapped his hand closed and with a frown wagged a disapproving pointer in her face. "Now, now. Rum first, payment later." He shooed her off with a brushing movement of his fingers and headed for a dimly lit, reasonably uninhabited corner.
Sitting on the hard, splintering bench felt wonderful. To be so unladen with restriction and propriety was doing wonders for him already. Honestly, at this point he didn't know why he hadn't chosen Piracy when he had first met Jack Sparrow and his father Teague. Oh, that's right, Jack and his father ruthlessly murdered his own father Admiral Nathaniel Norrington. How could he forget?
Rolling his eyes James perked up as the bottle of rum sloshed into view before him. "Ah," His eyes traveled up to the hand placing it down and he frowned even more, "Honestly?" The word was forced out with as much hatred and disdain he could muster before he snatched the cup up and drank healthily from it.
"Honestly w'ot mate?" That voice, so smooth and rugged. Like harmonious nails on a chalkboard to James.
"Honestly Sparrow must you insert yourself into my life at every avenue?" James folded his hands around the cup, the coins he had previously fetched sliding across the tabletop.
His eyebrows raised at the mention of insertion followed by a distant, almost dreamy look. He rolled the tips of his mustache into two curled points and simply replied with a chuckling, "No."
James rolled his eyes as he heard the scrape of stool against ground beside him, "By all means, have a seat."
"Aye." The gold from Jack's smile glinted in the minimal candle light only to be covered up by the long swallow from his own mug of rum.
If he could he would have shot daggers from his eyes and decapitated the man on the spot. But that, along with being able to see through woman's petticoats, was impossible so he settled for glaring intently.
Jack, feeling the heat of the ex-Commodore's stare frowned slightly. "I suddenly feel unwanted."
"I can see you are very perceptive Captain." James lightly ran a finger over the top of the crow's head as it restlessly shook it's head, causing it's feather's to puff out.
"So you 'ave found a girl! Excellent mate, drinks all around." Jack raised his mug in a mock salute and sipped from it.
James replied coolly with, "His name is Jack."
"'S interesting." Jack fidgeted in his inner pocket and pulled out a limp garden snake, "His name 's James."
James narrowed his eyes and watched Jack drop the dead snake onto the floor, "Really Jack, why do you insist on... persisting?"
"Wiv'out me, love, life wouldn' be as interesting... Nigh unlivable." Jack pressed a hand over his chest and averted his eyes heavenward as if in deep religious thought.
"I beg to differ." His voice was sharp and low, the mug coming to meet his lips for a much longer sip this time.
"Differ, love?" His gaze fixed on the man beside him, hand still clamped over his heart, "Jamie, ye' didn't even take th'time t'know me t'all!" His face adorned a look of hurt, but the corners of his lips twisted just slightly throwing the whole expression awry.
James' first reaction was to berate Jack for calling him Jamie. His second was to deny such a thing be done. And his third, "Alright, Sparrow. Name your terms." Now that was certainly unexpected.
It showed dually on Jack's face as both eyebrows were raised. Slowly that mischievous golden smile crept onto his face and he leaned forward towards James. "Alright, ready t'join me crew then are ye'?"
James slammed back the contents of his drink, placing the empty mug onto the table with a loud thump. "Aye Captain Sparrow."
"Already convertin' ye'r manner 'o speech!" Jack clapped him on the back, causing a shriek of protest and hard glare from the crow. "Oi, watch it!" He turned his attentions back to James, "I 'ave t'say Jamie, ye'r makin' me little black scalawag heart swell with unbolstered pride ye' are."
"I refuse to take that as a compliment."
AN: Ah it would seem there is some adventure ahead for our boys *gasp!* Please review and let me know what you think as well as what you'd like to see covered in this story (aside from various smutty positions of course. I'll be taking suggestions for those in a later chapter ^_-)