A/N: Another (humorous) Norry/POTC story. The basic premise is that Norry has a crazy party! Oh mai.

I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or Commodore/Admiral James Norrington. I really wish I dod. Anyway. RATHER A.U./O.C. STUFF TO FOLLOW. I know. Read the story, embrace the story, review the story. Become one with the story.

Chapter One: I REALLY Don't Think Now Is The Best Time

It was a Friday afternoon in FABULOUS Port Royal, and Norrington was busy cleaning frantically for the party he was about to have. Some of his navy buddies had been upset that no liquor would be involved, but as Norry had explained, he absolutely, positively did NOT need Beckett falling on top of him in a drunken stupor, like he had done at the Naval Academy Graduation Party.

So, what exactly was he celebrating? His freedom from an eternity of having to live with Elizabeth Swann, that's what! After careful review of her two minute tongue tango with Jack, he realized that it was probably for the best that their paths had never been joined—that would have been messy business, seeing as good ol' Liz seemed to be overly willing to kiss anything male (or, in Will Turner's case, relatively male) that so much as staggered across her path! Why, the boys back at the office (meaning the ship) even had a lottery going as to when she was going to lip mash with Davy Jones!

He personally had bets for sometime within the coming 3 days.

It was now just past five, and his party was set to start at 5:45. Against his better judgment, he had invited Will, Liz, and Barbossa. After all, he doubted it would be much of a party with just himself, his ficus, and that damned Beckett who insisted on showing up. Oh, and all his navy friends, who would most likely be outraged at the lack of booze.

The theme as Norry's party (labeled as an EXTREMELY LATE Halloween Bash) was, well, Pirates. It wasn't as if he enjoyed looking all scruffy, grungy, and ruggedly goodlooking. Then again, his next door neighbor's teenage daughter always seemed to be peeking around the hedges when he would get the paper on Sunday in his bathrobe and ratty flannel pants, and if she was taking an interest (albeit a CREEPY one) in his scruffiness, well then, it must be appealing to all the ladies and God knows he really, really, REALLY needed a steady girlfriend to ward off the onslaught of Beckington.

So after scruffing up, putting on some atmosphere music, and setting out the hors d'oeuvres, and putting his powdered wig in his room,—he didn't need Beckett professing his undying love to it, again,—he sat down on the couch and waited for 5:45 to roll around.

And roll it did!

The first guests to arrive were Will and Elizabeth. Figures.

"Hi, James! We baked you a bunt!" Will said, proudly holding up his pastry creation.

"Thanks, but… What…is it?" James asked, inspecting the strange, lumpy looking cake from all angles.

"It's a cake!" Liz explained happily. "And look, it's got little powdered wigs on it!" She pointed at the overly frosting-ed design that could and might have been a powdered wig, if you were Picasso or Dali.

"Well gee," Norrington scoffed. "This is swell." He put the cake on a table and covered it hastily with a black veil. "You guys are the best," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You really like it?" Will asked, eyes wide and aglow.

"Uh… Yeah. Sure."

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

"Jeeze, don't hurt yourself," Norrington muttered dryly, sitting on the couch and casting Liz a very concerned stare. "And you willingly married this guy?"

"He's cute," Liz pouted.

"Cute. Right. He's making up his own THEMESONG, for chrissake." Norry pointed out the now dancing and humming Will, who was doing something that looked like a really butchered Time Warp meets Cha Cha Slide.

"He tends to do that…"

"Oh?" Norry asked, interest piqued. "When?"

"Oh, football games, when he wins shuffleboard, after sex…"

Norrington choked on his glass of (non alcoholic) punch. "After what?"

Thankfully, Liz was spared having to repeat herself by the fact that Will had, by now, plopped down next to her and was giving her very smug looks. The next few minutes passed in odd silence. Will and Liz were making googly eyes at each other and doing stupidly romantic things that not only creeped Norrington out, but also made him feel like a pervert for witnessing it.

"You know, I don't think this is the—"

But the doorbell cut him off.

As he plodded over to the door, Norry could hear whomever it was having an argument with (what he hoped was) someone else.

"Well, I don't see how you can get lost getting here."

"It's not the gettin' here that's hard—IT'S GETTIN' BACK!"

"You know there isn't going to be any alcohol involved, right?"

Wrenching open the door, Norry almost did a double take. Standing there was Barbossa, along with Tia Dalma and Davy Jones.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Norry asked.

"Jack invited us," Davy explained.

"But this isn't Jack's party!"

"The monkey, boy, the monkey!!" Barbossa said, brandishing the monkey about 3 inches from Norrington's face. He pushed his way past the disgruntled commodore and led his 'guests' inside.

"Oh." Norry said simply. He would have rather gotten 50 more of Will's hideous cakes than have Tia Dalma and Davy Jones here! Norry had just Stanley Steemer-ed his carpet and now there was icky, slimy muck on it! And everything smelled like fish.

"Uhm… Can you sit on a towel, Mr. Jones, Sir?"

"And why's—say, didn't I kill you?"

Norry scowled. "That's hitting below the belt."

Eventually, though, he managed to get Davy to sit on a towel, and had let in the rest of his guests (which was really just Beckett and the other navy guys). Davy, Tia Dalma, Will, and Barbossa were all playing a heated game of Uno!, and Norry was trying to pry Beckett away from the photo albums marked NAVY, when the doorbell rang.

"Did you invite someone else?" Beckett asked, glaring at Norry.

"There are a lot of people here besides yourself, you know," Norry muttered, going to answer the door. Who on earth could it be? He hadn't invited anyone else and his whole guest list plus two was already there!

Standing on the doorstep were two people Norry had never expected to see: Girl Scouts! They were each holding boxes of very delicious looking cookies that looked MUCH better than Will's sad excuse for a cake.

"Uhm, can I help you?"

The girls smiled. "Do you want to buy some cookies?"

"No offense, kids, but I don't exactly have—"

"We have seven different flavors! They're all really delicious!" another girl piped up.

"Yeah, but I don't think—"

"And we even have low-fat, low-cal ones, and, sir, I think you could use those."

"Are you calling me fat?" Norrington asked, clearly outraged.

The girls giggled.

"WHOO! PASS THE KEG, MAAAAN!" came a voice from inside that sounded rather like Elizabeth's.

"The keg? Are you having a frat party?"

"I'm starting to think I—Hey! How do you two know what a frat party or a keg is, anyway?"

"We read."

"Yeah, unlike you, O Illiterate One."

"I am not illiterate!"

"Oh yeah?"

Norrington contemplated calling the navy in to get rid of this girl, but though better of it, and instead gave her a patronizing smile. "What a cute kid you are. Don't you have someone better to harass—I mean, sell cookies to?"

"No."

"So wanna buy some cookies?"

"NO!!!" Norry screamed, having finally lost it. "NO, I DO NOT WANT YOUR INFERNAL COOKIES! My house is being TRASHED and you want to sell me COOKIES?!"

"Uh, yeah."

"I DON'T THINK NOW IS THE BEST TIME!!!" Norry yelled, slamming the door in frustration, and giving it a kick for good measure.

"He's in there," he heard one of the girls say as her companion chuckled evilly.

A/N: Yep. I guess that was sort of long… I'm sorry. --; I probably could have broken it up but then I would have needed another witty title and… I'm just lazy? Psh.

Uhm. Yeahh... So anyway, I hope you liked it. It's rather pointless but I realized that I cannot really right serious fics. I'm trying, however!!! -shakes fist-

So as I said. Review, enjoy, comment, whatever. I don't know how long this'll go on for... At least 5 chapters? Maybe?