I only have wordpad here with no spell check or typofixing function so if I make mistakes and don't catch them, point them out. Thanks.
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Several days later, Norrington sat on the floor in the brig, pants soaked completely through, with his arms crossed over his chest. He had been in there since Thursday evening, without furniture since Friday morning, and without food since Friday night. His best estimate was that it was now sometime in the late afternoon on Saturday, but then again he couldn't be sure.
There didn't seem to be bells or regular watches or even anything resembling a schedule on board. But that shouldn't be surprising. After all, this was a pirate ship, and she was captained by the most unpredictable-
His thoughts were interrupted by someone clomping down the stairs. Speak of the devil, he thought.
Jack was holding an enourmous chicken leg and eating it noisily. "'Ello," he said around a mouthful of food.
It would be stupid to pretend that he wasn't hungry, cold, sore, and cross. There was a time and a place for stoicism, and it wasn't now. "Is that for me?"
Jack had to swallow before answering. "Are you ready to turn pirate?" He made a big show of licking his lips.
Norrington sighed and re-crossed his arms. "Mr. Sparrow," he began haughtily.
"-Captain," Jack corrected. "Here." He reached through the bars and tossed the chicken into Norrington's lap.
He managed not to tear into it immediately. "Captain?" he echoed. "You are the worst pirate captain in the history of piracy. You don't even know how to go about starving a prisoner."
Jack leaned against the wall and watched as Norrington started eating. "I'm not starving a prisoner, I'm starving a future crew member. Bit of a difference."
Norrington shook his head. "Give up."
Jack didn't say, "Never" or "You know me better than that" or "Not when I'm so close," but Norrington heard it all anyway.
At last Jack spoke. "To be perfectly honest, we need you. How many men do you think it takes to crew a ship this size?"
"More than you've got, I know," Norrington admitted. "But that is hardly my concern."
"It's only the Pearl's reputation - and her cannons, I suppose - that keeps these waters from being positively overrun with baddies who only take up piracy because they can't control their tempers long enough for anything else," Jack reminded him. "Besides, you're here anyway - you might as well. We won't tell anybody," he wheedled. "What have you got to lose? Come on, mate, you're not giving the idea a fair shot."
"That's not true," Norrington said seriously. "I've given it some thought, I really have. I know that despite everything you're a good man at heart and I wouldn't feel wrong signing on with you..." But then his voice changed and he sounded as if he were parroting a lesson he'd repeated every day since childhood. "Except that you are, in fact, a pirate. You commit piracy. You are an enemy of law and order and the King's navy and it is my duty to bring you to justice." He frowned. "Come to think of it, if we are attacked I could wind up fighting against my own men. Absolutely not."
"Then we'll avoid the Navy ships til you're got rid of," Jack offered. "Please? Only until we recruit a few more new ones. Please?"
Norrington stood slowly, wincing over his cramped muscles and hoping Jack didn't see. "I want dry clothes," he said. "And I want free run of the ship. I promise I won't try to escape. I need some time to think about it, and I'll give you my answer tomorrow."
"As an added bonus," Jack said as he reached for his keys, "If you sign on with us we'll give you your wig back. Or, better yet, we'll steal you a new one, one of those big fancy contraptions the ladies wear-"
Instead of answering, Norrington stamped his foot to splash Jack with seawater from the puddle that covered the floor. Jack looked surprised.
"-Or not, if you prefer."
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TBC...