Alicia picked up the bloody knife from its place next to the man she removed it from. Then she turned away from the bed she woke up in not so long ago, and the man occupying it. The man who was helping her stood a bit too close for comfort. As she turned from her patient, she bumped into Commodore Norrington. A blush coloured her cheeks from the close proximity. She hated it when anyone invaded her personal space (which was, honestly, about a yard), and it was even worse because she had nowhere to turn. The bed was behind her —— she felt it against her legs —— and the esteemed Commodore was practically on top of her.

"Do you mind?" She didn't mean to be so short with him, but she really didn't like anyone standing so close. Though he, himself, seemed just as uncomfortable; if the expression his usually stoic face wore was any indication. He took two quick steps back, eyes glancing to her left hand.

She followed his gaze to the reddened blade. Aside from the crimson fluid congealing on it, it was quite lovely. She could only wish for one this beautiful. Its hilt was bronze coloured, crafted with a more ornate version of Jack's sparrow tattoo. "Jack wouldn't..." The words were mumbled to herself, and if the Commodore heard them, he didn't acknowledge them.

She glanced behind her, to the soldier's injury. Nothing vital was hit. More than likely, the hit made him lose balance and his fall caused more damage than the wound itself... Jack Sparrow either aimed well —— and he meant only to hurt —— or he aimed to kill and just missed. For the sake of the idealization of her beloved captain, she chose the former. If it was the latter, she didn't want to know. In some cases, ignorance truly was bliss.

Norrington obviously didn't agree. Rage flared in his eyes for a moment before he regained control. "Sparrow needs to be held responsible for his crimes." His fists clenched briefly, belying his attempts at a calm façade.

"He didn't mean to kill him. The phaser was set to stun... I mean, the wound was only meant to stun." 'Gods do I watch too much Star Trek.' "I'm sure he'll survive the knifing. But I'm not too terribly sure if he has a concussion... I can't really recall how to check that when the person's unconscious." A memory flitted passed her mind. She physically reached for it, confusing the Commodore. All she could recall was a man using gunpowder on a wound to cauterize it and stop the bleeding. Just as she caught a glimpse of the gunpowder flashing on the open wound, the memory flitted away again. But she knew what she could do to help him heal more quickly...

"Give me your gun." He hesitated at her command, unsure of what to make of it. "I need the gunpowder." Again, he just stood there, confused and cautious. "I'm going to use it to seal his cut, okay?"

With a guarded air, he finally conceded and pulled his gun out of its place in his belt. "Don't move..." Unbeknownst to either of them, Anamaria had silently entered the room to check on Alicia. She had come in just in time for Norrington to decide to give up his firearm. "Put the gun down, and put your hands on your head." The commanding tone in her voice left no doubt in their minds that she'd shoot him if he didn't comply.

The weapon clattered to the floor and the Commodore raised his hands, turning to face his assailant.

The entire room froze, as if in a bizarre tableau, as the sound of a gunshot echoed through the room.

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-.--. . -. -.. --- ..-. -.-. ... .- .--. - . .-. ..-. .. ...- . -.--.-

Yay, another chapter! That took far too long. I had to redo it three dozen times because it kept screwing up. Damn corrupt files...

Telomeric: (-Lazily-) You only rewrote it twice. Stop exaggerating; it's not becoming.

Fire—Claw: Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?

Telomeric: (-Defensively-) I'm not on pot! Who've you been talking to?

Ed: Pots? Who's cooking? Ed Ed's hungry...

Scully: (-To Ed-) Never mind. (-To Telo-) I don't know how the law applies to noncorporeal... creatures, such as yourself, but I know possession of illicit substances is a crime. No matter who you are.

Mulder: (-Comes into view holding a joint-) Hey, Scully, you want some? (-Holds the joint out to her.-)

Scully: (-Smacks drug out of his hand-) (-In Molly Weasley tone-) What do you think you're doing!

Fred Weasley: Wow, she's like a younger, prettier version of mum.

Me: (-Slightly disoriented-) Huh? Sorry, I was busy listening to a song... Gods, how I love angsty country music... (-Starts singing along to Kenny Chesney's song "The Good Stuff"-)

(-All other characters —— accept Ed —— cover ears in pain-)

(-The song goes off and a Shania Twain song comes on.-)

Me: (-Imitating the other character's recent activities-) Oh, Gods, make it stop!

Alucard: (-Turns off radio-)

Me: Thanks. (-Stares longingly at Alucard-)

Alucard: (-Toothy grin-) Not a problem...

Netalak: Okay, break it up! (-Stepping between Alucard and me-) Get control of yourself.

Me: (-Goes out of sight to pout-)

Telomeric: Anyways... Read, review, etcetera, etcetera. Bye!

Ed: Bye, Bye!

Telomeric: Must we go through this again?

Telomeric: Good. THE END! Now review!