Chapter 18 – Déjà Vu All Over Again
With a quick peck to my cheek, Sparrow went back to the deck of the Black Pearl, where he started shouting orders in rapid succession. His crew ran this way and that, rushing to keep up with everything he told them to do. Even though I'd spent nearly a month on the Pearl, I had no idea what any of it meant, just that I should stay out of the way. I backed up to avoid one of the pirates and crashed into the man with the muttonchops, Mr. Gibbs.
He grabbed my shoulders and steered me to the side, his eyes narrowed and his muttonchops quivering in annoyance. "Get out of the way!"
"Sorry –"
"Why don't ye go join Miss Elizabeth in the guest quarters," he suggested, softening his tone slightly.
"Guest quarters?" I'd been on the ship for a month and now I found out there were guest quarters? "Where?"
"Down them stairs," Gibbs told me, jabbing a grimy finger in the direction of the stairs past Sparrow's cabin. "Follow the hallway."
I guessed this meant it was okay for me to go around by my onesies. As I started to go in that direction, it occurred to me that Gibbs didn't mention whether Norrington was with Elizabeth. I tapped Gibbs on the shoulder.
He spun around, eyes bugging with impatience. "Now what?!"
"Where's Norrington?"
Gibbs' face reddened and I was afraid his eyes were going to bug right out of his head as he turned and spat on the deck. "In the other guest quarters. And don't get it into yer head to go down there, either, or Jack'll have me head."
Down there? I blinked in confusion and then I realized where the other 'guest quarters' were. "You put him in the brig?"
"Can't have him wanderin' around the ship." Déjà vu. Norrington's exact reason for locking Sparrow up earlier. This was payback. Gibbs gave me a shove and stalked off, calling over his shoulder, "Now, go on and get out of the way before ye get hurt an' I have to explain to Jack why you weren't safe an' snug somewhere."
I stared after him for a second while I weighed my options. Probably it wasn't worth interrupting Sparrow to ask to get Norrington out of the brig. I could already see the smirk. Who else would have a key? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anamaria and I realized I didn't need a key. I chased after her. "Ana! Wait up!"
"No time fer chitchat now, Plum," she called back, waving a coil of rope at me.
I caught up to her. "Can I borrow a lockpick?'
"A pick?" Confusion flitted across her face as she paused and looked at me. After a second, her mouth set in a grim line as she figured out why I asked. "Forget it. Norrin'ton can rot down there after what he did to Jack."
"But –"
"No." She spat on the deck. I wondered if Norrington knew he was so popular. "Don't waste yer sympathies on the likes o' him."
"But I –"
"Leave him there," she told me as she walked briskly back towards the riggings, barking orders to the crew.
I watched them while I thought about whether it was really a good idea to let Norrington out of the brig. It wasn't any worse than what he did to Sparrow at the fort. But that didn't make it right, either. Gritting my teeth, I decided to do something about it.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Norrington was standing up in his cell when I came down the stairs, his eyes following me as I came down the stairs. "Ah, Stephanie. Have you come to visit?"
"I came to get you out." I held up the lock pick I'd found in Sparrow's desk. "I couldn't find the key, but this should work just as well."
He held out his hand. "I've not had much experience picking locks, but I suppose I could try."
"I can do it," I told him, crouching in front of the cell door. "I did it before and I was in the cell. Now I can see what I'm doing."
"You were in the cell?" Norrington echoed. "Sparrow put you – never mind. After spending a day with you, I can understand why."
I rolled my eyes. "I could leave you in there."
He moved closer to the bars, looking down as I fiddled with the pick. "Are you certain I can't help?"
There was a rusty clinking noise and I pulled open the door. "See? Piece of cake."
"You possess many interesting talents," Norrington said, stepping out of the cell. He took my hand and raised it to his lips. "Nevertheless, you have my gratitude."
"You're welcome. I think." I glanced towards the stairs. "Probably, you should stay down here for a while. You're not exactly the most popular person on board."
"Really? I thought this was the royal suite."
"What did I tell you about sarcasm, Noose?"
His eyes flashed and then a smile crossed his face as he slipped out of his fancy uniform jacket. "Am I permitted to be sarcastic now?"
I gaped at him. He was flirting! Hang 'em High Norrington was flirting. And possibly even stripping. Did I want to see Naked Norrington?
"Ah, the periwig. I forgot that you disliked it." He pressed his jacket into my hands and took off his hat and wig. "Better?"
Were his pants supposed to be that tight? I tried to remember pictures of the Revolutionary War and realized that they were supposed to cling to his calves like that. But were they supposed to show off his butt like that? Should I even be looking at Norrington's butt?
"Stephanie?"
"Oh...uh..."
Norrington moved closer. "Yes, it is better, isn't it?"
As he bent to kiss me, I spun on my heel and took off up the stairs. I wasn't military or even a pirate, but as a bounty hunter, I understood the importance of knowing when to retreat.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I didn't stop running until I let myself into the guest cabin, slammed the door behind me. Grabbing the nearest chair, I jammed it under the doorknob. When I turned around, I saw Elizabeth staring at me, eyes wide.
"Stephanie? Whatever is the matter?" She moved closer. "Is that James' uniform?"
I looked down and realized I was still holding the heavy blue wool jacket, even after moving furniture. "Um...yeah."
"I don't believe I've ever seen him without it," she said, lifting the jacket from my hands and looking at the shiny gold accents. When she looked up, she was smiling. "I am certain there is a good story behind this. You must share it with me."
"But –"
"It will take my mind off of Will," she cajoled. Not for the first time, I knew she would have been at home in the 21st Century. "Details, Stephanie Plum. I crave details."
I told her everything, from the proposal, to the kiss, to the nice butt and then I talked about Ranger and Morelli. I decided against mentioning Dickie Orr and Joyce Barnhardt, since divorce was probably really against the rules in1689.
When I finished, she handed the jacket back to me. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm hoping I can go back home and not have to worry about it."
"But you have the same problem there, too," she argued. "If it were me...."
Ah, now we were getting somewhere. "If it were you what?"
Elizabeth leaned closer and whispered softly, as if she were afraid of being overheard. "I wouldn't get married, either. I would keep Will, mind you, the same way you have your Morelli, but I would have my own life. It must be wonderful to be able to do whatever you want, whenever you want, without being constantly told that you are being unladylike or improper."
"They just tell me I'm a menace."
"Suppose you cannot go home." She flashed a wicked smile. "Could you choose between Jack and James?"
I was saved from having to answer the question when a bolt of lightning flashed outside the window.