Disclaimer: I own Mari, Sangre, and the Crimson Cutlass. Nothing more nothing less, so stop rubbing it in! cries
A/N: Not much physical action in this, but some relationships are redefined. Lots of talking, and lots of rum! Good times, good times. To Samluvsbanana and Son-of-Anthronis: Look kids! Alcohol! To squeakydoor; Norrington's wig is suing for a larger role. FreakandProud lots of yelling in the next chappie, I promise. Hint: it involves a jail cell!
The crew stumbled to their feet slowly, as men waking from a terrible dream. Squinting at the clear skies and glass-like ocean, they began repairs to the Pearl in silence. No one was steady on their feet, except perhaps, Jack, but who could tell the difference?
Will staggered to Jack's stateroom and flung open the door. Furniture had been flung about mercilessly, along with extinguished candles and, apparently, Will's wife. She and Red lay along one wall, unconscious. Will went to Elizabeth's side and shook her gently.
"Mmm..." she groaned, touching her head carefully. She met Will's eyes. "You were right; it was safer in here," she murmured. Will grinned and was about to reply when Elizabeth's expression grew frantic. She clutched her stomach and ran out of the room. Moments later, retching could be heard, overlaid by surprised protests. Jack appeared the doorway.
"Looks like she missed the rail completely," he commented. "There'll be no living with her during this, mate. Red, lad!"
The boy sat up groggily and eyed his captain.
"Ye've a mess to clean up on deck. Hop to!"
"Aye, sir," the boy muttered, and did as he was told. He nearly collided with Mari, who was guiding a very pale Elizabeth by the arm. Norrington was close behind, his eyes passing from one to the other, a perplexed frown just marking his features.
"Thank you, dear Liz, for the colorful deck-washing," Jack said with a mock bow.
"Morning sickness," Elizabeth explained. "Sorry, Jack."
"No worries! You're not the first to mark my Pearl. And it's not as if I have to clean it up."
"The storm probably didn't help, at all," Will said sympathetically, drawing his wife close. She leaned her head on his shoulder and allowed her eyes to drift closed. Mari examined the sky, dark eyes suspicious.
"We've lost him for the moment," she said quietly, "but who knows if he's another way to find us?"
"You need to learn how to relax, my lass," Jack slurred. "There's little we can do until we reach France. Why don't we celebrate the Pearl's latest victory with a drink?"
"Thank you, no," Mari said tightly, and extricated herself from the group. A glance at the Turners gave Jack their answer, as Will was basically holding Elizabeth upright. She was muttering something about bloody pirates and their bloody ships that couldn't bloody hold still.
Undaunted, Jack turned gaily toward the commodore.
"How 'bout it, old Jim?" he asked, throwing an arm around Norrington's shoulders. "A pint with your new ally?"
"I'll thank you to refer to me as 'Commodore,' Captain Sparrow, and to refrain from unnecessary familiarity," Norrington said stiffly. Jack removed his arm with a blithe expression.
"However," the commodore continued, "after such events, even the most decorous would feel in need of some...fortification. Lead on, Captain, and I shall follow."
Jack opened his mouth, but James cut off his comment with two words.
"For now."
"Now, Commodore," Jack began leaning boneless against the rail, "surely you don't mean to stretch the neck of a man who has –more than once- pulled your noble rump out of the fire, as it were?" He knocked back a generous swig of alcohol. "It would seem such actions would be working at cross purposes. Also, a pirate can make a most...indispensable ally, savvy?"
"But a pirate's word can be most dispensable, indeed."
"Aye, I'm a dishonest man. But, James," Jack leaned toward the other man, "have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?"
Norrington thought about that. True, Jack was despicable, dishonest, and a pirate. But he had never, in the commodore's presence, shown himself to be untrustworthy. Norrington took a sip of his own drink. It rolled in a ball of fire down his throat; valiantly, he held a cough behind his teeth.
"Why do you and your daughter find this beverage so appealing?"
Jack gulped rum mightily. "Hard to think when yer stomach's afire, mate."
"And that's to mean that there's a great deal to avoid thinking about?"
"Aye, for me, leastways."
"I suspect Mari has much the same dilemma."
Jack barked a laugh. "She, sirrah, is the captain of her own vessel, has never had a mutiny, and is quickly garnering more fame than ever I imagined having, all at the age of twenty. What is there for her not to think about, pray tell?"
"Her rather lackluster relationship with her father, for one."
"She knows I've more pride for her than could fill these seas," Jack replied, gesturing with his rum. Norrington gave him a thoughtful glance.
"Have you ever told her? With words."
"Actions speak louder than words, mate."
"And what actions have you taken to impress upon her your admiration and –I daresay- love for her?"
"Does this line of interrogation have anything to do with your own quickly developing admiration for my whelp? I've seen the looks you send her way, mate. Best to tread softly, lest ye find a cannon strapped to yer heels."
"Perhaps if she knew you felt so strongly about her welfare as to threaten a commodore of the British Royal Navy, fewer of your conversations would end in argument."
"Yer sayin' I'm a bad father, then?"
"I am saying, Captain Sparrow, that you are a good enough man that that woman wants to try to be her father. As for my feelings toward her...they are my business until and if I choose to express them."
The two men stood in silence for a moment, eyes locked inextricably. The battle lines between them eased, then, into a thin wire of mutual respect. Jack slapped Norrington's shoulder companionably.
"Y'know something, old Jim, we're not so different, you and I. We're only opposite sides of the same coin, as it were."
"I do hope, Mr. Sparrow, that you are not inferring that I am the tail of said coin."
"Don't have to say what's said for me. And it's Captain, Captain Sparrow, if ye please."
"I thought you deferred a celebratory drink," Will commented, coming alongside Mari where she stood near the prow. She examined her rum bottle and shrugged.
"Who says this is celebratory, mate? Shouldn't you be with your nauseous bride?"
"Right now she's unconscious as well as nauseous. And beginning to blame me for her discomfort."
"'Tis yer fault, lad, when ye think of it."
"She had a part in it, as well," Will quipped. Mari sipped her rum and grinned.
"Say that to her. Only, just make certain I'm there when ye do. I want to say 'I told ye so' while I watch Red mop up the gore."
Will grimaced, realizing the probable truth of Mari's words. Elizabeth was sweet and gentle, but strong-minded. However, that will had saved his life more than once, so he was glad of it. Usually.
"You remind me of someone I used to know," Will said suddenly, looking at Mari closely. Mari cocked an eyebrow.
"Who'd that be, mate?"
"A girl that stayed with us, the summer before my mother died. It was the only clear memory I had of my father- he brought the girl to us, explaining she was the orphan of a friend and left again. Her name was Margaret Gull; we were inseparable. We even-" Will paused, grinning.
"Go on, mate," Mari encouraged, "ye can't shock me. I promise."
Will laughed a bit. "We became 'blood brothers'," he said, rolling up his sleeve. On his left forearm was a thin, white scar. Mari examined it wide-eyed for a moment, and set her rum bottle on the deck. Silently, she rolled up her right shirtsleeve. There was a thin, white scar, identical to Will's.
"Bill took me off right before the mutiny," she said quietly. "He gave me a new name, the chance at a new life. I can't believe I didn't remember it until this very moment."
Will's dark eyes grew wide. "You're Margaret Gull?"
"Aye. I was, at least. I suppose both of us had a harrowing journey after that; no time to remember child's promises."
Will shook his head. "No; I suppose we both forgot our promise of that summer." He looked in the direction if his and Elizabeth's cabin.
"Would you change anything?" he asked, very quietly. Mari took a swig of rum.
"There are a great many things I would change, Will, lad, but that's not one of them. You and dear Liz are deliriously content with one another. Poseidon is my only lover."
Will stared out at the ocean for a moment, thinking. He thought of all the events that had brought him here, to this moment. He thought of Elizabeth sleeping peacefully; his wife, the mother of their child. He tried to imagine Mari in her place.
Will laughed out loud.
He looped an arm about Mari's shoulder in a very Jack-like gesture and grinned.
"So, then," he said, briskly changing the subject. "Tell me about my father."
Mari swigged some rum, and searched for a place to begin.
"Well, dear Will, I first met him when I was just a wee lass..."
A/N: Yes, I know, I cut it off. But that whole story will be outlined in The Sparrow's Flock eventually. It's a tactic I use to force ppl to read all of my work! MWHHAHAHAHA!! Ahem. Please review.