Sun spilled into Commodore Norrington's office, bathing the entire room in golden glow. Warm though it was, he sat at his desk in full dress, filling in a ledger book. His finger drawing down the page, he clucked his tongue at the number he knew to be incorrect in the line, and grumbled, scratching it out and replacing it with the right one. When a knock sounded at his door, his lip stiffened, irritation sweating upon his brow.
"Yes, come in."
Murtogg and Mullroy tramped in followed closely by Captain Groves.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "What's happened?"
"Well sir," Mullroy said, "we didn't find no pirates at the smithy."
"But Turner took off when we read the note," Murtogg said.
"I believe I gave an order not to read the note."
"Yes sir," Mullroy agreed, shooting a glare at Murtogg, "but it was extenuating circumstances that led us to read it."
Groves stepped forward. "Commodore Norrington, I received a note this morning that I believed came from William Turner. However it seems that it had not." He laid the two pieces of parchment on the desktop.
Norrington frowned.
"Turner took off 'fore we could question him, sir," Mullroy added.
"Compared both notes 'fore he left," Murtogg clarified, glancing at them. "Said something about a bloody pirate."
The Commodore sighed. He pushed his chair back. Standing, he turned and looked out his window to the open sea, where a brown bird dipped down and soared o'er the waves. "Sparrow," he agreed. He shook his head and turned back to face the three men. "I highly suspect it is more of his ridiculous though amicable nonsense. Nonsense which will not further inconvenience my office. Good day, gentlemen. Back to your duties it is."
Groves turned on his heel and left, Mullroy and Murtogg on his tail. Norrington watched them leave. With a bit of a smile, he turned back to his view of the ocean blue. So taken with the vista he was that he did not notice the head that popped in. Murtogg grinned at finding the Commodore enthralled and stepped forward to cross the threshold. A meaty hand, however, prevented him from doing so. A silent struggle ensued, both the disapproving Mullroy and the desperate Murtogg rumpling the other's coats and hair.
The Commodore turned around. Murtogg and Mullroy shot forward in the hallway, out of sight. Both frustrated, Murtogg finally shoved Mullroy down the hall and made to follow him.
Norrington resumed his watch of the sea.
Murtogg snuck in and crept toward the desk. His gaze flicked from the Commodore to the desk and back. The yellow parchment shone in his eyes, and he licked his lips. Quick as a whip, he snapped the notes up and shot out of the room, grinning at the glowering Mullroy who had come back too late. Then, with a skip in his step and the notes tucked into his pocket, he went whistling down the hall.
In the office, Norrington spun around. Finding the room empty, he frowned, and with a sigh and a scowl, he sat down and flipped open the ledger book, determined to finish what he'd started.
