A/N: I will be seeing the movie again tonight, this time with Keith himself. You'd all best prepare yourselves for a furious onslaught of story…

Wait For No Man

Chapter 3

Norrington was still muttering the next day as he retied his neckcloth for the third time. For some reason he seemed to be all thumbs. His secretary came to the bedchamber door, eyeing him as though wondering whether he might bite.

So Norrington bit. "And what do you want, Weston? Have I not enough to do today without you hovering like a – a – thing that hovers?" Marvelous, Edmund, you silver-tongued devil. The judge will surely be impressed with you today. Frustrated, Norrington tore the wrinkled neckcloth off and tossed it on the bed, stalking toward his quivering secretary. "What have you there?"

Weston handed him a sheaf of papers. "The depositions you requested, my lord. I took the liberty of looking them over, and if I might draw your attention to one or two points…?" He indicated a particular passage with a shaking finger.

Norrington read, then read again, then smacked himself in the forehead. "Of course. I can't believe I missed it. Weston?"

"Y – yes, sir?"

"You're a ruddy genius." Norrington grinned. "I expect you're thinking along the same lines I am. You'll see to it?"

Weston visibly relaxed, giving his superior an answering smile. "Yes, sir. Yes indeed."

"Well done. But don't go too far with it," called Norrington after the other man as he hurried off. Weston raised a hand so show he'd heard, then trotted down the stairs. Norrington heard the mansion door close as he finished tying a new neckcloth. He began to whistle to himself, then broke into a pleasant baritone. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me…" Of all the things to sing. Norrington laughed and made a face at himself in the mirror. "I'll have your gratitude yet, Captain Jack Sparrow!"

~*~

Loud complaints floated on the morning air down the hall of the gaol from Jack Sparrow's cell. Norrington hid a grin and turned the corner, finding the scene he had expected. More or less.

A harried Weston was tying Jack's assorted plaits and mats into a reasonably respectable club at the back of his shaggy head. The pirate wore a clean shirt and breeches with his dusty boots. His hands and nails were noticeably cleaner, though the back of his neck needed some work. The complaints were aimed at Weston, who was dodging Jack with some skill as the latter tried to retrieve the red scarf he was famous for.

Norrington's grin slipped into view; Jack noticed and snarled. "This is all your doing, I expect. Tell your lackey to give me back my property at once."

Norrington regarded him. "It'll likely save your neck, so stop complaining."

Weston poked Jack in the chest and tossed the scarf to Norrington, who caught it on reflex and rather wished he hadn't. "I'm no lackey, you jackanapes," said the secretary heatedly. "You'll have the courtesy to address me as Mr. Weston, Undersecretary to the Governor."

"I don't care if you're the Governor's underdrawers! Give me back my effects, damn your eyes!" roared Jack, clearly feeling much put-upon. Weston executed a neat pirouette past the pirate and out of the cell, kicking the door shut behind him with a clang.

Norrington held the scarf by one finger and thumb, rather like a dead rat. "Relax, Jack, you'll get it back later. Just for now I must insure you have a later for me to give it back to you in."

Jack draped his forearms through the bars. "And how d'you plan on doing that, Edmund, me old son?"

Weston gaped. Norrington chose to ignore the unwelcome familiarity. "And you might treat Weston with more respect. 'Twas he who noticed that in all the depositions, the description given of Captain Jack Sparrow was uniform. Too uniform. And based largely on clothing and attitude. We remove the clothing, you take care of the attitude, and I wonder if your accusers will be able to recognize you?"

Jack nodded slowly. "You'd make a decent pirate, Edmund. All right then, I'll play. But," he turned a venomous glare on the much-abused Weston, "I'd best get my effects back and in good order, Master Underbelly."

Weston's nose went up in the air. "As though anyone else would want them, you filthy bilge rat." He stalked off in high dudgeon.

Jack chuckled. "I like him."

"Clearly," Norrington said dryly. He picked up the keys to the cell, then hesitated. "Your word, Jack – you'll cooperate?"

"Aye." Jack waited until the cell door swung open, and then he clapped Norrington on the back with one manacled hand. "After all, 'tis my neck in the noose, Edmund." He followed the Governor down the hall.

"Oh." Norrington turned around and was abruptly nose to nose with the pirate captain. "And pray do not call me Edmund in front of the judge. If he were to get the idea that you and I are friends, my credibility would be utterly gone."

Jack's dark eyes went liquid and puppylike. "We're not friends?"

Norrington huffed out an exasperated breath and marched out of the gaol, the prisoner at his heels. "Idiot."

~*~

Disbelief hung in the air so thick it was like breathing custard. Norrington stared at the judge. "But m'lud, the witnesses were clearly unable to recognize their alleged attacker! Obviously some rogue is posing as Captain Jack Sparrow in order to despoil his name – "

The judge snorted. "The good name of a known pirate?"

Norrington frowned awfully; the judge appeared unmoved. "The good name of one of his Majesty's privateers. Captain Sparrow's record was wiped clean when he accepted his commission three years ago. His prior history is not admissible as evidence – "

The judge's frown was yet more awful. "Do you tell me my business, sirrah?"

Norrington glared. "I am still the governor of this colony, m'lud. I'll thank you to recall that fact in your address."

The judge got to his feet, leaning over the bench. "This courtroom is my domain. And a governor who wastes the public's time to defend a creature like this from the hangman's noose is not fit to hold the title, in my opinion, and so I shall tell his Majesty in my next communication!" His face was shiny and puce; Norrington found himself hoping the man would have an apoplectic fit on the spot, the old windbag. The judge sat down heavily, delivering his verdict at the top of his lungs. "My judgement is for the people of Port Royal, Jamaica: this man is guilty and shall hang at dusk!"

"No!" Norrington leapt to his feet. "Give me but twenty-four hours to prove my case, m'lud."

The judge mopped his forehead with a snowy handkerchief. "I fail to perceive what you could possibly hope to accomplish in that time."

"If twenty-fours hours makes no difference to the verdict, what harm is there in granting it?"

The judge snorted. "I could use the same argument for denial of the motion."

Norrington clenched his jaw. "I shall personally vouch for Captain Sparrow. Twenty-four hours."

The judge raised his eyebrows. "Another tidbit for his Majesty. Very well; you may have twelve hours. Sparrow hangs at dawn." The old blowhard swaggered from the room; Norrington sat next to his client, who was staring at him, black eyes wide.

"What?" Norrington asked defensively.

"I can't believe you just did that. Vouched for me personally, I mean."

Norrington snorted. "Personally I find this entire situation completely farcical."

Jack shook his head as though disbelieving. "You've scuttled your career for me. Well, for Will, but even so… I've misjudged you, Norrington, and I'm not too proud to admit it. You have my gratitude." He stuck out his hand, manacles and all.

Norrington abruptly put his face in his hands and began to laugh.

"Something funny, or are you hysterical?" asked Jack, concern in his tone. Norrington laughed louder. "Norrington?"

He sat up straighter, wiping his eyes. "Both, I think. And Jack?"

"Aye?"

"Call me Edmund."

~*~

Will met Edmund halfway down the street, his expression a mix of eager and worried. "How did it go? Is he free?"

Edmund glanced around; there were still people milling about, though dusk was gathering. "Come inside, Will."

Will preceded him into the smithy and latched the door. "That badly?"

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry, Will. I really thought I could help him. I still think I can, given enough time, but – " Norrington paused, and Will filled in the words.

"But time we do not have."

"Not for that, no. I had to give the judge my personal voucher, else Jack would be hung now. As it is, he'll meet the noose in the morning."

Will's expression grew steely. "That he will not."

Norrington gave him a nod, enjoying the look of astonishment that crossed the younger man's face when he realized no argument was forthcoming. "Send Belle and Lizbet to the mansion for the night; I shall join them there in a little while. I have preparations to make, as do you."

Will blinked. "You'll help?"

Norrington nodded grimly. "I will. I don't relish seeing a man railroaded, even Jack Sparrow. I've a plan forming." He gave his friend a grin. "Oh! Here is the evening's manifest for guard duty at the gaol in my pocket." With a flourish, Norrington dropped the paper on the floor. "I must keep careful track of that, else some unscrupulous masked person might anonymously break into the gaol with fell design during the period between ten and eleven this evening, when the guard will be one short." He gave Will a look. "Kindly note the use of the words 'masked' and 'anonymous', my friend. Last time you just walked in. In broad daylight."

Will picked the paper up, laughing. "Last time I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. You play the fool quite well, Edmund."

Norrington gave him a small bow. "Now to the matter of concealment. Should you run into any persons who might require a place to hide temporarily, you would do worse than to bring him, her, them, or it to the stables on the governor's estate, where a trusted friend might be waiting to assist."

Will walked over to the rack of swords on the smithy wall and selected one, giving Norrington a nod. "Understood."

Norrington nodded himself. "Take care, Will. I promised to love Lizbet, not to deprive her of her father."

"Nor her godfather, come to that. She cannot spare either of us." Will smiled. "'Twill be well, Edmund."

"I certainly hope so."