Should have had rum

Gillette knocked at the door and without pause strode into the ward room and stopped, arrested to see Miss Swan, blood on her face, Commodore Norrington bracing himself upright at his desk, dark in the face and breathing hard. Gillette squeezed his eyes shut. Perhaps, he thought she would disappear if I just try again. He opened his eyes again. She was still there. James had his hands over his face and Elizabeth had risen to her feet. She looked fiercely at Gillette who in turn looked past her.

“Sir we have the French vessel and the Pearl within our sight.” He paused glancing to the horizon out of the ward room. “Sir, where should put the civilian?” Gillette had declined to call the woman who broke the heart of the man he adored himself.

“Eliz..Miss Swan, you will be safest here, you will stay here.” James leveled his gaze at Elizabeth-- it was not a request.

“What about Will?” She still ventured protest.

“Mr. Turner will be seen to…and I will arrange for him to be brought to you directly,” James conceded in more pacifying tones. Gillette looked to James, shock plain on his face, but he did not speak until the heavy mahogany door with leaded panes had been shut and Miss Swan had been locked inside.

“Commodore, why do you continue to cater to her wishes?” He quizzically pursued the commodore as they made their way to the helm. “If something were to happen to Turner, an unfortunate accident….” Norrington paused and stared at Gillette- whose eyes were cold and unlaughing. Still James needed a moment before he could say “no.”

“No, he is a citizen of the king and therefore under my pro….” Gillette cut him off.

“Yes under your protection – why James, why really?” They were not alone on the bridge of the ship but for all of the commotion around them and the fervor of the new crew to perform well they might have been all alone, and Gillette’s use of his Christian name went unnoticed.

James snapped open his spyglass and searched the horizon for the finer details of the Pearl and the French ship. Tiny figures moved around the Pearl; any one of them could have been Turner, the key to her happiness, the key to his solitude. The situation was unique-- the gun ports were closed on both ships, and the sails were rigged, no way to maneuver and no way to fight. The French ship did not have a similar compliment of sailors. In fact he spied only one moving in a suspiciously loping and swooping manner, with an occasional appraising pause and then a casual toss overboard of this and that.

“Sparrow.” He called aside two lieutenants and ordered them to organize a rowing party to approach the ships. “Gillette, stay with the ship, we can not count out another surprise attack, they are pirates after all.” He saw the worry in Gillette’s eyes. “When we raise the Union Jack above French ship, bring our ship along side, keep the men prepared to board. If there is trouble I will ignite the powder keg of red flare powder.”

James stood in the prow of the longboat that sailed towards the Black Pearl. The last time that he had undertaken such an expedition it had been for love of Elizabeth, to ensure both her safety and her happiness. This time he wondered if he could argue that it were for any other than again her happiness.

The ship itself was dark, painted in a matte black to make it disappear in the ocean against the horizon after dark. James considered whether the color of the ship matched the dark deeds that that Sparrow had undertaken in his lifetime. He began the climb towards the rail of the ship and was greeted by none other than a sailor formerly under his command.

“Welcome aboard Commodore!” Mr. Gibbs greeted him heartily and with a slight slur to his speech, one hand extended a gesture of welcome with a little wave and another held what appeared to be a bottle of fine French wine, a burgundy or a native version of the Italian Chianti perhaps.

“Mr. Gibbs, for what reason should we not proceed to attack, detain, and arrest you all for piracy this instant? Even if the ship in question today is French, there is still the matter of previous offenses.” Norrington kept his voice even and did not move for his sword or gun. The crew of the Black Pearl was largely intoxicated, and the ship showed no signs of a recent fight, but a crate with French writing on it had been broken open and nearly every member of the crew was half-way or better through a bottle of wine, save Mr. Cotton who could not taste the wine for lack of a tongue. Mr. Gibbs lifted his bottle to stare into it as if the answer would manifest in the ruby liquid.

“Because Jack is an honorable and vested privateer in His Majesty’s army, you two are on the same side, another voice slurred similarly from the wine and so gratingly self-righteous in its arrogance that it made James wince came from behind the mast. Although only the feather and a boot stuck out to be seen James knew that it was none other than Will Turner.

“Mr. Turner.” James smirked a bitter smile at the man who had stolen the heart of the woman he had wanted so much to be loved by. “Miss Swan is in my cabin. I would send you to her but you are rather unkempt at this point.” He took what pleasure he could in letting his rival imagine just what she could be doing in Norrington’s cabin.