I own nothing. I make no money. Disney, Verbinski, Bruckheimer, all those clever people in the credits of the movie, deserve all huzzahs and profit.

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How Norrington Defeats All Assassins -by BlackJackSilver

A waning moon sails the clouds and vanishes. The Pearl, unlit, anchors cliffside, off Port Royal. Jack, Will, and Elizabeth land a boat, and slip to their designated positions. Jack's plan to murder Norrington is child's play- an ambush, as he returns to his residence from Fort Charles. Were predictability a pox, the King's Navy would constitute a plague. Even Norrington, artisan of surprise in battle, reverts to regimented habit in private. Unfortunately for him, the many eyes of Port Royal are far from blind to his steady schedule.

Jack waits. Both married early, the sea, as well as their respective professions. Both excel in leadership, stealing loyalty with courage, rather than with fear. Both earn more than their fair share of mortal enemies. Though he and Norry may be fashioned of the same cloth, less starch on Norry's end wouldn't make them best mates. Norrington exerts far too much effort hastening Jack's demise. Under other circumstances, Jack may have fought beside James and called him brother. Ironic it has come to this! If only Norry had embraced a vice, distracting hobbies, or some other calling, Jack could be drunk and wooing strumpets somewhere, instead of here, crouched to kill in darkness.

Hours pass. Jack loses track, but intuits the opportune moment drawing near. Since hiding, he's had no sign from the Turners, but trusts they are ready to do what they must. Jack watches. The moon peaks out obediently. He discerns a white uniform approaching. He draws sword and pistol silently. Are you ready, James? Come just a bit closer, mate. Jack hears footfalls to his right. Norrington hears them also, and draws his blade. Jack leaps into battle. Steel clashes steel. Shot's fire. Suddenly, all is silent, except for breathing.

"Eight of them! There was never supposed to be bloody eight of them! You both in one piece?"

"We're fine, Captain," Will says. "The Commodore?"

"Sparrow? Turner? What is the meaning of this?"

"The Commodore lives! Captain Sparrow, though Commodore, if you please. Well now James," says Jack clapping a casual arm around Norrington, "the meaning of this- long story, really-"

"Commodore," Elizabeth interrupts, in no mood for one of Jack's long stories," In Tortuga, Captain Sparrow learned the details of pirates plotting against you. We came to help."

"Elizabeth? What are you- SPARROW!"

"Captain Sparrow, Commodore."

"Are you mad, forcing Mrs. Turner into such rash and dangerous actions?"

"Wait for me at the boat, loves. Give James and I a moment, ey?"

"Force Lizzie? Not bloody likely, mate. She's gotten positively frightening with swords, sly one she is, easy to underestimate. Mr. Turner's got her practicing five hours a day, and not only a little of that is swordplay. And pistols! Who shot that poor soul there, d'ya think? Of me crew, the Turners were the only ones keen on hastening to the rescue of your pirate hunting hide."

"How precisely did you discover the details of their plan, Captain?

"Whose bloody plan do ya think this was, mate? Their original plan was overly complicated and far to difficult to counter with just the Turners and meself. So I talked them into a new plan, din' I? Looks like that's one of the benefits of you trying to hang me. Nobody reckons you've got friends in such low places. You watch falling into routines, mate. Mix it up a bit, ey? By the way, did you hear the one about how Norrington, all on his onesies, defeated eight assassins? Good story that! One I'll be telling in Tortuga. Assassins are bloody cowards, the lot of them. A tale like that might give the next lot with bright ideas a pause. Well, I'll toddle off then, before you get it in your head to hang me- again."

"Captain Sparrow."

"Commodore?"

"-Thank you."

"What? No hug?"

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