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Without a doubt, Jack intended to eventually nudge his new crew member into becoming a full-fledged buccaneer, but for now he was careful to only give orders that were not too objectionable.

First, he decided to make him write a letter.  They went to Jack's cabin and Norrington seated himself at the table with some paper and a pen.  "All right.  Take this down."  Jack paused and removed his hat theatrically.  "Dear Elizabeth.  No!  My Dearest Elizabeth," he revised.

Norrington sighed and selected a second sheet of paper.  "My Dearest Elizabeth," he echoed as he wrote. 

"It is with greatest pleasure that I avail meself of the honour of addressing this letter to you"  He scratched his head.  "No, wait – she'll never believe that was me, will she?  Here – start again.  My dearest Elizabeth…"  

"-One moment," the former Commodore interrupted, annoyed beyond measure.  He got yet another fresh sheet and began again.  "All right – go on."

"My dearest Elizabeth.  Greetings from the high seas."  He paused.  "I wonder, how are things with you and precious William?"

"Precious?" Norrington repeated skeptically as he wrote.

"No…you're right, that's a bit much.  Try, with you and your sweet Will Turner.  That has a nicer ring, doesn't it?"  Jack smiled, appearing totally unaware that Norrington was very close to throwing the inkwell at him.

"Yes, it does.  Except that we are now on our last sheet of paper."

"Ah.  Well, then, just cross it out.  I'm not particular."

Certain now that Jack was perfectly capable of writing himself, and only continuing this farce for its irritant value, Norrington tried not to let himself be annoyed.  He took a deep breath and made the changes Jack had suggested.

The letter progressed in a similarly aggravating fashion all the way to the signature line, which Jack insisted read:  "Yours eternally, Captain Jack Sparrow."

"First of all, Captain, that's not appropriate for you to say to a married woman.  Second, you're a pirate-"

"I hadn't forgotten."

"-And if the letter is found," Norrington continued loudly over the interruption, "It will mean trouble for her.  Can't you just sign it 'Jack'?  It's what she called you anyway."

Jack detected a tiny trace of bitterness in those last words, so he patted his scribe consolingly on the shoulder, took the quill from him, and penned "Yours eternally, Captain Jack Sparrow" himself to sidestep further argument.

Still, he couldn't resist saying, "Now add a postscript.  We've forgotten something."

Norrington humored him.  When Jack's desire to perform asserted itself, regardless of the lack of audience, it had to be indulged.  "And what have we forgotten?" he asked sweetly, hoping that it would be enough to forestall any behavior even more erratic.

"Take this down.  Postscript:  We still have your bloody friend Norrington.  He's doing well…"

"I will not refer to myself as your bloody friend Norrington.  We still have Commodore Norrington, I'll write."

"You'll write no such thing."  Jack sat on the desk and, still smiling, drew his pistol.  "We still have your bloody friend Norrington.  Write it, I'm warning you."

He did not appear to be joking.  As a matter of fact, he appeared to be insane, but Norrington took a chance anyway.  "No.  I'll write the postscript with Commodore in it, or not at all."

Jack stood up, turned away, and abruptly raised his voice.  "YOU'LL WRITE WHAT I SAID!  YOUR. BLOODY.  FRIEND.  NORRINGTON!" 

Norrington tried not to be intimidated.  If Sparrow were honestly angry he'd stare me down, he thought.  He's turning away so I don't see him laughingI hope.  Anyway, a line had to be drawn someplace.  He rose and tried without success to match Jack's yelling.  "I will NOT be called anybody's bloody friend anything!"

"YOU WILL!  YOU ARE YOUR BLOODY FRIEND NORRINGTON!  THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE AND THAT'S WHAT YOU'LL WRITE!"

"I AM NOT!" Hardly able to believe that he had been reduced to this childish of an argument, Norrington gave in to the desire to pound his fist on the desk.  In for a penny, in for a pound.  "AND I WILL NOT!"

They were interrupted by a loud knock at the door.  Jack stormed over to it, scowling ferociously, and yanked it open.  "What?"

It was Ana Maria.  "Is something wrong?  We can hear you all the way-"

A nasty smile spread over Jack's face.  "Nothing's wrong, except that our bloody friend Norrington wishes to repudiate his name.  And I won't allow it.  That is his name and that's what we'll call him.  Is that clear, my bloody friend?" he added, turning to Norrington and failing miserably to look stern.

Norrington looked furious but didn't say anything further, so Jack continued.  "What kind of name is Commodore Norrington for a pirate, anyway?"  he made a face.  "Good.  Now back to work.  Write: Your bloody friend Norrington is doing rather well.  I think your bloody friend Norrington and I are going to get along splendidly.  As a matter of fact, it was actually your bloody friend Norrington who-"

Realizing that Jack intended to fit in as many your bloody friend's as possible, Norrington interrupted through clenched teeth, "-who pointed out that we will soon run out of ink, Captain."

"Ah.  Fine – then we'll cut the trimmings."  Norrington knew enough by now not to think Jack was giving up the game, though.  "Write: as a matter of fact, it was actually Y.B.F. Norrington who-"

Norrington just shut his mouth and continued writing.  By the end of the letter, he had been reduced to "YBFN", but he supposed the senseless collection of letters was slightly preferable to the ridiculous title in its entirety.  Anyway, it'll all blow over in a couple of days, he told himself comfortingly.

But he was not comforted.

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TBC.

Remember, Jack's life is in your hands.  Review for me, or something bad will happen to him.  Pathetic, isn't it, the lengths I will stoop to to get feedback…

(Despite appearances, this chapter was slightly important to the overall plot.)