Fever crackled along Commodore Norrington's rangy frame as he strode towards the docks, bright-eyed and awfully pallid, but for the bright smudge of red lighting his cheeks. Thin as death and in fine, fey spirits he made his way along the docks with purpose. Despite the constant spiteful pain in his chest and the difficulty he had in eating he was in good spirits, dressed simply in his day to day uniform.

The Black Pearl was docked close to the Dauntless and it buzzed with activity as Jack's crew re-supplied under the watchful eye of the female mate, Ana-Marie. Norrington nodded a greeting to her.

'Captain's in 'is cabin. Gibbs, show the man t'th' Captain.' She informed the Commodore, then barked the order at Norrington's old man.

'I'm surprised you managed to shake off her shadow, James.' Sparrow commented mildly as he poured the rum out. It seemed that as of the past few months the Commodore was never seen out and about without the watchful shadows of Groves or Gillette accompanying him.

'Mm, well even their admirable loyalty is tried sorely by the prospect of shore leave. Les filles de joies are more than I can compete with, thank goodness.' He accepted the rum with polite thanks and drank deep, the liquor stinging, then numbing his raw throat.

Jack laughed, once upon a time his pet Commodore would have just ordered the two men to stop mothering him. Jack must be having a good influence if James was using the bribe of a tumble with a good whore to distract them instead. After some desultory chat Jack pulled out his charts and they got to planning.

'We've got to make this one count, Sparrow.' Norrington fixed his friend and comrade in arms with a serious look, abandoning his usual façade of strength to allow Jack to see how much pain and weakness now dogged at him.

Jack looked at his friend, letting his usual drunken-seeming cheer drop. He'd suggested James invoked the curse of eternal life, but the man had refused and Jack supposed spending the rest of eternity in the agony James was suffering now wasn't very appealing. While he wasn't whingeing at all the deterioration in his health was so obvious Lizzie, Will and Weatherby had all had quiet words with Jack, asking him to look after the Commodore. Jack wasn't going to tell him that though - he was prickly enough about his wretched dignity as it was.

'Aye lad, we will.' He smiled a rakish grin full of fire and madness. 'We'll give 'em piss an' vinegar. There won't be a man on the seas who don't whisper the name o' the Scourge come next moon.'

Jack received a heavy-lidded, satisfied smile. 'Aye, yus kin.*' Cheerful spite leaked from every pore as he dropped the mincing, proper tones Jack had truly known weren't Jim-lad's.

As they stood to make ready for departure James took Jack's hand and shook it gravely, his grip still firm, stubbornly ignoring the creep of death stealing along his limbs. 'It has been a pleasure, Captain.'

'Ye must be sickenin' lad, you never call me Captain!' Jack returned the handshake with a clap on the back. 'Jus' don't drink all the rum before I get there, lad!'

James chuckled as he headed back to his own ship to prepare for the morning. His tread was light on the steps and Jack managed a pained smile as he poured out the last of the rum. He'd forgotten the occupation hazards of befriending mortals.

The next morning the two captains set sail. Only one returned, and that day a legend was born of a man in naval blue who rides the winds of death and smites the wicked of the seas. Jack still hears of sightings of that fierce spirit and he raised a glass to the seas.

FIN

* Yus kin is a Derbyshire dialect expression that roughly translates to 'you understand', literally claiming kinship. Mainly because the irony of making Norrington a Derbyshire lad cracks me up.