It was yet another sunny day in the Locker when Will returned from his 'One Day With Elizabeth'. He had dark circles under his eyes, which Beckett was sure to misinterpret, and straw from thatching under his nails. However this was all irrelevant considering his exiting news that he was certain all the boys would be exited by. How could they not be overjoyed by the prospect of a minitARRR Will?
As Will ran up the beach, he spotted Norrington and Beckett sitting in their normal spots around the table, drinking tea. (Not that Will understood the concept of 'normal spots', given that he was always stealing Norrington's). However, much to Will's surprise, not only was Governor Swann also at the table, but so was Davy Jones. Will could not remember a single time in ten years that Jones had been invited for tea. Nearing the table, Will realized that Davy Jones was not actually sitting at the table. Rather, he seemed to be seated behind a line, a few feet away from the men. Later, Will would see that the line had "Jones-safe zone. No Jones allowed beyond this point" written on it. Jones was also drinking from what appeared to be a child's plastic teacup with a teddy bear motif embossed on the side. All around Jones' chair were foam and other soft substances, as if to cushion the blow of any objects dropped. Nevertheless, Jones looked immensely pleased and was sipping his tea happily.
"I have a son!" Will yelled as soon as he was within earshot of the men. This was greeted not by shouts of encouragement as Will had hoped, but rather by a silence.
"Did you hear something?" Norrington asked those assembled, as Will continued to shout "SON!" in the background.
"It sounds like young Will has a son," said Swann, who didn't understand that they were purposefully ignoring him.
"No, James, I didn't hear anything," Beckett replied, understanding what Norrington was about. "Perhaps there is a rather large bird strangling on a pirate?"
It was then that Will arrived at their table, out of breath and looking even more dashing than usual.
"SON SON SON SON SON! Me!" he nearily shouted.
Governor Swann was blinking up at him. "Oh, that's jolly good news, my boy! Who is the mother?"
Will looked puzzled. "Your daughter, Elizabeth…" he trailed off.
"YOU IMPREGNATED MY DAUGHTER!" Swann stood up and began trying to strangle him.
"But….but…. we're married!" choked Will.
The Governor stopped immediately and said composedly, "Oh, that's alright then. I have a son-on-law! And a grandson!" The two men began to do a ridiculous dance around the table. They did not notice the eye-rolling-fest that Norrington and Beckett were engaged in.
When Will and Swann finished celebrating, Will seated himself in the Governor's chair. Norrington, who had been gripping the arms of his chair tightly, looked relieved. Swann took the empty place.
"Erm, I hate to be a bother, but can I have a biscuit?" asked Davy Jones, from behind his line.
Will happily passed him a biscuit and asked, "So, how do you find life in Will Turner's Locker?"
"If by that you mean Davy Jones' Locker, then it's just peachy."
"No, I meant Will Turner's Locker."
"Davy Jones' Locker!"
"Will Turner's Locker!"
At this last provocation, Jones leapt to his feet and reached out for Will. Beckett coughed menacingly, and Jones shuffled back behind his line.
"Jones, I told you, if you want to have tea, you must stay behind your line." Beckett drawled, without turning around to look at Jones.
"Erm, yes, of course. Won't happen again." Jones continued to shoot death-glares at Will.
Norrington put down his teacup and regarded Will. "So, this boy of yours, does he have sort of ice-cream cone shaped hair?"
Will looked puzzled. "The only person I know with hair that looks like an ice-cream cone is you, Admiral,"
"Yes, that's really the point, isn't it?" Norrington said flatly. "Does he have it or not?"
Beckett at this point cut in, "Your son, is he rather short?"
"No, he's the usual size of a nine year old," Will was getting rather confused.
"Hm, so was I, at that age. I just stopped a bit before puberty. I imagine this boy of Elizabeth's will do the same."
"But, why would he do that? I had my growth-spurt pretty late," said Will, looking from Beckett to Norrington. The look of confusion on Will's face made him more handsome than ever.
It was Norrington who spoke next, "Does he look at all Chinese? Pointy beard, that sort of thing?"
"Er, he's only nine—" Will started, but Beckett cut him off.
"Dreadlocks, I imagine. The boy has dreadlocks?"
Norrington looked up from his tea. "I say, Cutler, there's a thought!" He turned to Will, "Yes, and I imagine he wears loads of black eyeliner and acts as though he's drunk? That's really the most likely scenario, more so than ice-cream cone hair or shortness."
Will looked as though he were thinking very hard. "Well, he was very loving, he hugged my leg…"
Norrington nodded, "Yes, drunk people are generally very loving—"
"But you'd have to ask your wife about that," cut in Beckett. Norrington glared at him. "Maybe drunkenness is genetic, do you reckon?" he went on.
Will's eyebrows were still furrowed, "but, I'm never drunk…"
"Yes, Will, that's sort of the point," Norrington said, while Beckett smirked.
"It sounds like you two are describing Jack, not my son," said Will slowly.
"Why, yes, we are, aren't we?" Beckett answered, helping himself to more tea.
"But why would my son be anything like Jack? Oh! I know!" Will looked as though he'd just figured something out, "Elizabeth must get very lonely in that cottage, so it's only natural that Jack must come and visit her, which is why you boys think my son could have picked up his mannerisms! That all makes sense now!" he seemed proud of himself for working it out all on his own.
"Yes, I am sure Sparrow goes and "visits" your wife quite regularly. I'd really like to go and "visit" your wife—" started Beckett, but Norrington kicked him under the table.
"So how is my daughter then? Still pouting?"
"You know it's strange Governor Swann. Elizabeth hasn't aged a day since I last saw her."
Norrington coughed suspiciously, but no one noticed.
"That's silly," Jones said, from behind his line, "the only way a person could stop aging would be to find the Fountain of Youth, or, you know, have one's heart removed."
Again, Norrington coughed but said, "Maybe she's using some of those new lotions that are supposed to keep ladies looking young—"
"And fresh?" said both Beckett and Will. Beckett then gave Will a sort of surprised look. Clearly he had underestimated the man.
"Wait a minute, James, didn't you once look for the Fountain of Youth as a young man?" asked Governor Swann innocently.
"I…" Norrington stuttered, "I don't indulge in such superstitions. But under his breath he said quietly, "if Elizabeth has found it too, she must have followed my directions, or else that blasted Sparrow fellow, hmm…" he trailed off.
Beckett, meanwhile, was rearranging his clothing and looking intently at Will. "So, boy, we never really got around to the most important questions. How was your time on land?"
Will thought back to the hours spent thatching, cleaning, and being poked by old women. "Fantastic," he lied.
"And how was your lovely bride?" asked Beckett, with a tone that Norrington did not like.
"She was…. Fantastic" said Will, who had a very small vocabulary.
"And did you…?" Beckett asked suggestively, raising an eyebrow.
"Did he what?" asked the Governor, watching some pirates wander by in the distance.
"Yes, yes, we did, loads and loads of times," said Will, who was getting pretty good (in his own opinion) at lying.
Beckett seemed to want to know more. "Was it nice?"
Will paused and looked at him. "Yes, it was….fantastic" he said mechanically.
"And did she have some of those little red garments?" continued Beckett.
"I think this conversation has gone far enough!" interrupted the Admiral, looking annoyed. "Honestly, I have come to expect this sort of behaviour from you, Lord Beckett, but Will," he said, turning on the young man, "I am surprised at you. Elizabeth deserves better than to be gossiped about like a second rate lady of the night!"
"Hear, hear!" chorused Swann. "There are just some things a father does not need to hear about."
Will was looking at his tea. He had known Beckett would ask these sorts of questions, and frankly, he was not happy with how his visit home had turned out. Davy Jones caught his eye.
"It's never worth the wait, is it, boy?" asked Jones. "At least your lady was there waiting for you—"
"And not off shagging a Greek." finished Beckett.
Norrington thought it would be a good idea to change the subject. "So, Will, how is it being married to the Pirate King?" In the background, one could almost make out the sound of pirates singing "she is, hurrah for the Pirate King!" faintly.
Governor Swann, meanwhile had chocked on his tea. "I thought you were married to my daughter? What's this about a king? Is that even legal?"
"Sir, Elizabeth is the Pirate King," Norrington told him.
"Oh, didn't I tell you all?" said Will, with a mouth full of biscuit, "she resigned so she could spend more time with our son. She passed the title along to that Cheval chap."
"Who?" chorused the other four.
"Cheval. You know, the French pirate. Apparently he and Elizabeth get along really, really well. She said if not for him, she would never have been able to manage everything at the cottage."
"So I am going to take a wild guess and say your son speaks French and has a pale complexion?" was Beckett's reply.
"Now that you mention it, yes."
"And he only drinks Perrier?" asked Norrington.
"How did you know?"
Beckett and Norrington exchanged significant glances over their teacups. "That settles it then," said the Admiral.
"Tea, Mr. Turner?" said Beckett with a smirk.
Authors' Note: Thank you to everyone who has read our little work of humo(u)r, and especially to those who have taken the time to review. We have certainly enjoyed exploring what our favo(u)rite dead Brits would do to occupy themselves in "Lockerland!"