Title: Clandestine Meeting
Author: Yakkorat
Rating:G
Pairing: Jack/James pre-pre-pre slash if you'd like. It can be taken as Gen if you'd prefer to see it as a stand-alone.
Disclaimer: The rat owns it all.
Summary: This is a "lost scene" from the film that would take place between Jack's saying "They done what's right by them. Can't ask for more than that," and the beating of those awful drums.
Notes: Just something I wrote to try to beat the writer's block. This vignette is from the same universe as Best Medicine (six and a half years before that vignette, obviously) but can easily be taken as a stand-alone. There is a sufficiently long fic coming eventually which takes place between this vignette and Best Medicine, but it is last on a priority list of eight different writing projects and designing the world for my original novel.

Clandestine Meeting

The knock at the smithy door surprised young William Turner, and he froze in mid-swing, his hammer raised above his head, poised to strike. Who would be at the door at this time of night? Master Brown had long since returned home in a drunken stupor, and everyone knew that his apprentice was the only one who would be at the forge after dark.

With a surge of hope, the blacksmith laid the hammer on the anvil beside his metalwork. Maybe it was Gibbs or Anamaria, or anyone from the Pearl. God, he hoped so. He had sent a message almost two weeks ago, as soon as the Dauntless had landed back in Port Royal, and now Jack's execution was looming dangerously close. So far, the letter had received no response.
He opened the door quickly, expecting to usher a fugitive pirate into the relative safety of the shop. But it was no pirate on his doorstep. In fact, nothing could have shocked him more than the man he found there instead, and for fraction of a second, he just stared. He couldn't help it; a straight-backed, white-wigged commodore was the very last thing he had expected. Luckily, William Turner was not a man to be easily rattled, and he acknowledged Norrington with a cordial nod. What on earth is that man doing here in the middle of the night?

"May I come in, Mr. Turner?"

"Of course," Will said, stepping aside to let the officer enter. If his heart was pounding a bit faster than usual, he was hardly going to let the other man see that.

"I am here," Norrington stated matter-of-factly, "because your friend, Mr. Sparrow, is scheduled to be executed in three days."

Instantly, Will's expression turned cold, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Captain Sparrow," he corrected automatically, "and I am well aware of when my friend is scheduled to die."

"I assume you've contacted his ship and made the necessary arrangements?" the commodore asked.

Did he really expect that Will would fall into that kind of verbal booby-trap? The blacksmith may not have had the schooling which had been available to Elizabeth, or Norrington, (or even, Will suspected, to the pirate captain in question,) but as he had told Jack weeks ago, he was no simpleton. Norrington would not trip him up so easily. When Will answered, his voice was calm and even, giving nothing away. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Commodore."

"Do not insult my intelligence, Mr. Turner. It is neither flattering to your integrity nor does it speak well of your regard for my astuteness. I know full well that you intend to rescue the pirate."

Will shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Come, come, Turner," Norrington said, taking a step closer. "Do not waste my time. I do not wish to see him hang any more than you do."

Taken aback by the earnestness in his rival's expression, Will furrowed his brows. "You can't be serious."

"As loath as I am to admit it," Norrington said with a long-suffering sigh, "he did save Elizabeth's life, not once but twice, and at the considerable risk of his own."

Hearing his angel's name so familiar on those lips was an ache all its own, but Will ruthlessly pushed the thoughts away. That battle was already fought and lost. No sense risking Jack to the hangman because he couldn't accept it.

"He did," Will agreed.

"I would prefer not to repay that courage with execution, but I am bound by the particulars of the law."

"So you came here to be certain that someone would do what you cannot do yourself." Someone with less to lose, Will couldn't help adding bitterly.

"Was I so wrong to believe that if the pirate had an ally, I would find him here? Port Royal is filled with good men, but most would not risk life and limb to save anyone. Of all people, Mr. Turner… I hardly think I need to remind you of the importance of loyalty to one's friends."

Will raised his brows, aware that he had just been paid a heartfelt compliment by the man who had long been his undeclared nemesis, at least as far as Elizabeth's affections were concerned. "Thank you," he said solemnly. "And you're right. I need no reminder."

Norrington gave him a grave look. "You understand, of course, that I cannot help you; that I will in fact do my very best to prevent you from succeeding."

"Of course."

"And that if Elizabeth cannot appeal to her father on your behalf, you may be subject to severe consequences."

That was a risk Will had accepted the moment he had first sent word to the Pearl two weeks ago. In fact, it was a risk he had accepted the moment he let Jack out of the jail cell to go after Elizabeth. "I know," he said.

"And this little conversation?"

"Never took place, Commodore."

Norrington nodded, satisfied. "Then I shall see you in three days, Mr. Turner. Best be in good form."

Will gave a short nod. "I will be. And thank you."

"You are welcome, Mr. Turner. And good luck." He reached for the door handle and was gone before Will could say another word.

Will slid the bar into the latch, locking the door, and turned back to his work with a crooked smile. Despite the Commodore's assurances that he would not hold back in his efforts, that he would attempt to thwart whatever rescue attempt Will put into action, the blacksmith had the distinct feeling that Jack Sparrow had at least one more ally in Port Royal. Maybe, just maybe, Jack would get out of this yet.

FIN

Author's Note: Oh, God... it's so wooden it makes me ill. I'm aware that this is terrible. The discomfort they were supposed to be feeling in each other's presences didn't come through at all. Grrr. Stupid writer's block.

Author's Note: For those of you waiting on a new chapter of Do As I Say, Not As I Do, I appreciate your patience. The story hasn't been abandoned, only put on hold. Echoes, which has commandeered my muse and which I will not begin posting until it reaches completion, should be done within the next month or two. Sooner if real life will calm down a bit, though I highly doubt that will happen. Once Echoes is finished, I will dive back into Do As I Say, Not As I Do, but Echoes looks to be the definitive work of my young career and I am determined to give it the attention it demands.