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A/N: Thank you so so very much for the kind reviews. Please, keep them coming!

Indiscretion:

Sipping more champagne than he normally would have allowed himself, James Norrington stepped out of the governor's crowded ballroom into the peaceful seclusion of the garden. He had been drunk very few times in his life, discipline had always prohibited him from drinking to excess, and usually, he simply did not have the desire to take leave of his senses in such a way. Tonight, however, something was different. He'd had the strong desire for a good stiff drink ever since the eager young officer had burst into his cabin and reported the sinking of the Black Pearl. Hard to believe that was only a matter of hours ago. He'd been enjoying a drink then. Port. The blessed liquid, however, had quite literally slipped through his fingers when he'd heard the news concerning the Pearl's one survivor. Norrington had expected Sparrow's name to be on his aide's lips. Instead, it was a woman who survived and the pirate she loved who went to a watery grave.

James had been forced to work in close proximity with the Pearl's perpetually drunk Captain more times than he cared to recall. Always against his will. Still, each time, the pirate became less of a menace and more of a decent human being. Grudgingly, Norrington had to admit that he respected Sparrow, despite the pirate's chosen profession. Of course, he'd never said as much to Jack. Maybe he wanted to drink a final toast to a worthy adversary and a man who had deserved more respect than James had ever given him.

Then again, James could want to drink to quell the surge of feelings brought up by the reappearance of Anamaria Tarret. Elizabeth's accusation still rang in his ears. His own wife thought he loved another woman –

James' fevered thoughts came to an abrupt halt as the woman in question suddenly came into view. Her borrowed silver gown glowed in the soft moonlight. Her ebony hair shone, and her eyes sparkled. Could anyone know such beauty and not love her? Emerging from the shadows, James came to stand at Anamaria's shoulder. She made no move, said not a word. So still, she could have been made of glass … or stone.

"A beautiful night," James said, uncomfortable with the silence.

"Is it?"

He could not see the lady's face, but he did see her proud chin lower slightly, her shoulders sag. Norrington's heart broke for her, feeling so alone in the world. She loved Jack Sparrow. She had loved him since the first, when she broke the law to protect him. At the time, James had been furious, not understanding how she could compromise herself for a pirate. He did not understand, that is, until he'd bent the rules for Annie. She had been in danger, and suddenly something had mattered more than his duty to King and Country. After that, he'd tried to be angry with her, with himself, but he couldn't. Annie's brother, a man who had once been one of James' closest friends, was the one who finally convinced him that a commission could not be the most important thing in a man's life. He'd told James that only another person should be that important. Ironically enough, Annie's brother, Prescott, had given up his career in the Royal Navy to save a man's life, a man who had become a brother to him, Jack Sparrow.

It had been Prescott's words and Annie's happiness in James' mind when he let Sparrow escape the noose in Port Royal. Seeing Annie as he saw her now, he never could have lived with himself if he'd hanged Jack and been the cause of her pain. Norrington hadn't ever told anyone his true reasons for setting Sparrow free. So much easier to let everyone believe that his feelings for Elizabeth had been his motivation. Easier than admitting there was another woman out in the world that he loved even though she did not love him back. Thinking again on his wife's accusation, James sighed. He had not been so appalled by the notion of having deep feelings for someone else. He had been shocked that Elizabeth knew he felt this way for another woman; the woman, standing just in front of him, in the moonlight.

"It is one night," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "The first of many …" he let the phrase trail off. She knew what he meant. The first of many nights without Jack Sparrow. The first of many nights in which she would have to find some other reason for living.

Annie turned to face James. She was frowning, and her amber eyes were moist. In those eyes, James could see dozens of battles, heartaches, and losses. In her eyes, he saw things he was accustomed to seeing in the eyes of a world weary Admiral, not a lovely woman. For the first time, in a long time, Anamaria Tarret looked her age. "I can't be here," she said. "Not now."

James nodded his understanding. In truth, he had been shocked when she agreed to come to Elizabeth's birthday at all. She started to leave. "Let me walk you back to the house," he offered.

Her dark brow rose. She almost smiled. "I think I can handle anything the dark alleyways of Port Royal has to offer," she said.

Norrington could feel his cheeks color slightly. "Of course," he said, remembering that, while Ana had never been a particularly delicate woman, she certainly was not in any peril after more than twenty years flying the black flag. James had to admit that he would not want to cross blades with her for fear of losing. "I was only offering my company. Perhaps it is you who could offer me protection," he said, making a weak attempt at a jest.

She laughed, quiet and sad, but still a laugh. She took his proffered arm, and they walked back to the house he shared with Elizabeth in silence. Not until he held open the front door for her, did James dare to speak. "I'm sorry," he said. "We shouldn't have expected you to go tonight. It was too much, too soon."

One corner of the lady's mouth lifted. "You should get back. You're wife will be missing you," she said in place of accepting his apology.

Norrington rolled his eyes. "I doubt it," he chuckled. "Elizabeth is in her element at these parties."

Annie's eyes languorously rose to meet his. She said nothing, but every hair on the back of James' neck stood on end. Never had she looked at him in such a way. Something behind her tawny eyes completely disarmed him. Her lips parted as though she meant to speak, but no sound came. She stepped closer and placed her hand on the side of his face. James almost gasped at the unexpected touch. Her hand slid around to the back of his head. Her fingers gripped his hair as she pulled his face close to hers. Before he was aware of what was happening, Annie's lips were crushed against his. Her tongue was inside of his mouth.

Everything in Norrington's mind rebelled, opposed to this situation. He knew that this woman who's breast was pressed against his body was grieving. She was lonely, and scared to be alone. Yesterday, she had lost everything. Today, she had to figure out how to pick up what was left of her life and move on. His arms encircled her slender form, pulling her body closer. He kissed her back, passionately, drinking her desire and her need. He knew Anamaria was not in love with him. She was looking for one night's comfort, that was all.

He knew he was a married man, who had given his word to forsake all others. He knew that every time, after this night, when he looked into his wife's eyes, he would see Anamaria. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, his own hand trailed down her back. His lips consumed her neck, tasting every inch of the soft, supple skin. He knew that some day Elizabeth would see his indiscretion in his own eyes. James Norrington knew all of these things as he lifted the dark-hued lady pirate off of her feet and carried her to his bedroom. He knew, but he didn't care.

TBC