Title: The Afterglow
Rating: R
Pairing: Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)
Warnings: violence, character death
Summary: Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl.
Disclaimer: At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.
Word Count: 765

I. Introduction

Norrington stumbled backward into an upper bedroom of his spacious, but mostly unoccupied house. Laughing through the muffled sounds of the party happening downstairs, Elizabeth entered and shut the door behind them. Many of the guests had gone, including her father, who was the only one really keeping her from taking what she wanted. One thing she'd learned from Jack, with enough cleverness and enough desire, you can indeed take what you want.

The Commodore sat clumsily on the foot of the bed and motioned for Elizabeth to join him. It wouldn't be the first time they'd run off to one of the bedrooms in the house, or a few other houses, for that matter. They'd been together in the house Elizabeth shared with Will. They'd been together at several similar party functions that Will had chosen not to attend. Elizabeth visited Norrington frequently at his home during the day while Will worked and often, he sent the servants home early, claiming he was ill and Elizabeth had come to care for him. Certainly, she cared for him, but not by dabbing at him with a warm cloth and keeping him quiet company.

Elizabeth smiled at the memories, but felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving Will. She sat down beside the Commodore who wobbled his head a bit to get a better look at her. She put her face against his arm to hide her shame. He was drunk, and Elizabeth intended to make her big move. With a head full of wine, Norrington was far more likely to accommodate her.

Elizabeth turned and put her hand in the center of his chest, pushing him down on the bed. She kissed him excitedly, trying not to belie her intentions to spring upon him a rather difficult request. She undressed them both and went about things as normally as she was able. It was true, Norrington wasn't the most adventurous of lovers, but anything was better than Will's coyness. He was always so shy… Absolutely infuriating! Elizabeth shook herself and concentrated.

Norrington lay beneath her, mouth open and breathing heavily, head to one side. He arched himself rather helplessly as she slowed the pace of her hand, letting him down gently to a level of arousal at which she could speak with him.

"James," she said, gently. His eyes opened. Closed again. When she stopped moving altogether, they opened and focused on hers. She had his attention, finally.

"James, I love you." She was testing the waters.

"I love you, too," he replied. The Commodore was clueless. He reached for her lean sides.

"I want to go away with you."

"Away? To where? What's wrong with this room? I had it painted just for you!"

"No, no. I love the room. The color is beautiful. That's not what I mean..." She hesitated.

"Well, then, Elizabeth, out with it." His hands dropped to her thighs and rested.

"I want to go far away. Away from this town. Away from Will. I want to run away. Come with me. If you sold the house, we could go anywhere we wanted! I could get money from my family! Say you'll come. Won't you come with me?"

Norrington propped himself up on his elbows and stared hard at Elizabeth, trying to focus his dulled gaze. He couldn't possibly answer this question in such a state. Her tone had been rushed and panicked. He knew his answer would have to be precisely right and diplomatically phrased, but he'd essentially already made up his mind. He absolutely wouldn't abandon all he had in Port Royal. Not even for Elizabeth. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

Norrington lifted Elizabeth gently by her hips and maneuvered himself out from under her. He sat with his legs over the side of the bed and thought for a few moments before putting on his clothes again. He put on his shoes, straightened himself and fingered his coat. Elizabeth sat dumbly on the bed, wrapped herself in a sheet and gave him a pleading look. No matter, the Commodore looked at her only briefly before he walked tensely from the room, swinging his coat about his shoulders.

When he got down the stairs he was glad to see the guests had gone home, too drunk to really notice his absence. Suddenly, he felt not drunk enough. There would be comfortingly loud noises and dim lights at a pub near the pier… And most importantly, more drink. He set out and left Elizabeth crying upstairs. Shortly thereafter, she fled home and slipped silently into bed beside Will.