This is my VERY first PotC fic it's for the members of the NDL to enjoy. For Heavy is the burden - but he's worth it!

This is a slash fic- If you think you may be offended don't go on.

Not Beta read yet but it will be my beta is in the middle of an LXG fic is planning to do it Sunday.

Rating- PG-13 (I think) Paring- Lt. Gillette/Commodore Norrington

Run to Madness

I sit at the edge of the battlements, my legs swung over the side staring down into the darkness and the jagged rocks I know are bellow.

With a bottle in my hand I stare into my own privet hell, a hell of my own making I can see no way out. No way save a dive to those rocks and the empty embrace of the sea- the coward's way out?

I'm not sure it could be the decent way out a way to save James the embarrassment of my court-martial.

Lifting the bottle to my lips I take a swig and grimace as the drink burns a fiery trail to my stomach.

Rum- I didn't look when I bought it off the barkeeper I just bust in as if the hounds of hell were after me and demanded "A bottle of something to drown in".

It is I suppose a fitting drink, a pirate's drink for I have become a pirate.

Renault Gillette- stealer of kisses, plunderer of the lips of a sleeping man, taking freely of what has not been offer to me willingly and violating the trust of friendship I had sort so long to earn as a younger man and had jealously guarded ever since.

And I have done all of this to a man who I supposedly love with all of my heart, with ever fibre of my being with all that I am and will be.

A knock on the door of James office received no reply, it was quite late and I thought perhaps my James had for once gone home early. So I opened the door and went in to leave my report on the desk where he would find it next morning.

The sight that greeted me gave me fuel for the fires of fantasy that warm my bed of a night.

James.

He was asleep in the armchair he keeps for the visitors to sit in, he was bareheaded his thick dark hair gleamed in the light of the dieing fire. He looked peaceful, perhaps this was the only time he could truly be James L. Norrington when he was asleep and dreaming.

A smile flitted across his lips and I heard his sleeping voice murmur softly "Kiss me my love".

I was jealous instantly of this dream lover of his, who could have what I would sell my soul to have in my arms for a few sweet hours. That was if my soul was still mine to sell and did not already belong to James without him knowing - that and my love sick heart. I lost control of myself and I ran mad, over the phantom of a rival I would never see or know.

Leaning over I lent in and kissed James on those oh so kissable lips. They were warm and soft under mine with the faint taste of James's adored brandy still lingering on them.

I only ment to kiss him softly, then to creep out and leave him sleeping. But all the passion I feel for him came flooding out and it was a deep passionate kiss given with the force of my adoration and longing behind it.

It - I woke him up.

His confused turquoise-green eyes looked up me.

"Renault?"

I sprang back and stared at him, this was never meant to happen! James was never meant to realise I loved him in any way more that a friend and commanding officer. I started to back away toward the door I had to get out and away before anything else happened.

James's voice said hesitantly "Renault? Did you just kiss me?"

I turned and I ran my hat fell out of my hand but I carried on running I couldn't stop. Not even when James shouted for me to "Come Back"!

I ran clear across town to my lodging and stopping only to pick up some money to get something, anything to drink. So here I am now contemplating the sea? Or the hangman's rope? Or worse still being sent far from James never to see him again.

A movement then a voice deep and commanding. "Do you intend to jump or do you intend to tell me why you kissed me?"

James. I turn to face my doom with a deep breath. This is it; the next few moments will decided the rest of my life.