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Three cheers for Sparrington!

Pirates of the Caribbean slash, and my first venture into the genre. those who don't like Jack Sparrow and Commodore Norrington together, don't read. if you ship Jack/Will, go boil yourself in oil 'cause you SUCK.
Just kidding. you can use melted lead if you prefer.

It's a deathfic. With a happy ending. Hey, it's me.

When reality becomes indistinguishable from your nightmares, what do you do?

The sky is gray, a perfectly dull, inoffensive gray, the kind that will make your eyes bleed from the sheer monotony of it all. He is out on deck, driven from his cabin by a nagging mix of claustrophobia and foreboding, but in the hot, close, humid air, he feels little better than behind his desk. He is waiting for the axe to fall, thinking, irrationally enough, that if he expects it, it cannot hit as hard.

He is wrong.

"Sir! Sir, there's a wreck dead ahead!"

He rushes to the side, and wavering in the mist, he can see the charred remnants of a Jolly Roger...

...and Commodore Norrington sat bolt upright in bed, covered in fear-sweat and gasping for breath. Just a dream... it's just a dream...

...leaning over the port side of the Dauntless, he watches the smoking, flaming wreck of a pirate ship drift into view, feeling nauseous, feeling terrified, knowing that this is it...

...it's only a dream, it's not real, it's not!

But his stomach refused to believe him, lurching and roiling in anxiety, and he staggered to his feet, heading for the door...

...staring at a figurehead that he knows but won't recognize because if he puts a name to it it will make it real—

"Sir, it's the Black Pearl!"

No it's not it can't be he won't let it be...

...and then he was heaving up his guts over the side of the Dauntless. He was painfully grateful that none of the sailors or officers who must have been on deck approached him. He needed to be alone, alone with his faithless, traitorous mistress, the treacherous sea...

"...sir, there are no survivors."

"You're SURE?" He is beyond caring that his voice is cracking and his hands are shaking and his men are all staring.

"Uh... yes, sir. We combed the wreckage twice. We found some bodies, but no one left alive."

"Thank you," he says, training taking over, keeping the fraying edges of his composure from disintegrating entirely. "Dismissed..."

"...'ere now, Jamie-luv, an' what is it that's upsettin' ye?"

He looked up, and there he was, in all his pirating glory. Jack Sparrow, terror of the Spanish Main, captain of the Black Pearl. "Hello, Jack. I've missed you."

Jack grinned, flashing gold. "An' 'ere I was, wonderin' 'ow t' get a confession o' affection past that infamous British stiff upper lip, an' ye offer it up without so much as a single plea. Missed you too, my Jamie-luv."

A finger of ice ran down his spine as he watched Jack, hovering just out of reach. "Will you not kiss me, Jack?"

"I'm sorry, Jamie-luv." Jack smiled sadly. "I can't."

He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. "It wasn't a dream."

"No, Jamie-luv," Jack agreed softly, "it weren't a dream."


Lts. Gillette and Groves watched their Commodore from their perch in the rigging, discussing him in worried undertones. "Ever since we found the Pearl, he's been a little... off," Gillette noted quietly, his eyes not shifting from Norrington's long, shadowy figure as the man stopped heaving and pulled himself back, clinging to the railing.

"What would you do, Andrew?" Groves asked, equally quiet, his gaze on his friend and not their commander. "He is the Commodore, not we; as long as we are on duty aboard the Dauntless we have no right to question him."

"When we get back to Port Royale, we must get whatever it is out of him," Gillette fretted.

"When we get back, yes. Now, no."

Gillette was about to reply when a sudden movement from Norrington drew both their gazes. He pulled off wig, coat and swordbelt, leaving them in a tidy pile on the deck. Before either lieutenant could quite grasp what he was doing, he climbed onto the railing, stood and balanced for a moment—and dove.

It was a beautiful dive, one worthy of a certain infamous pirate captain. But its perfect grace and form were wasted on Gillette, who immediately dropped to the deck and ran to the ship. "Sir! Sir—Teddy, he's not swimming!"

"Stop it," Groves ordered quietly. "Stop it. Don't you dare try and go after him."


"He is our superior officer," Groves replied mechanically, his face almost mask-like with grief. "We are bound by oath to honor his wishes. Let him go."

Gillette swallowed hard. "Honor before friendship?"

"Honor the wishes of a friend, Andrew. Honor his memory, and let it go."


James woke up to a cloudless blue sky, the sort that heralded an absolutely perfect day. He smiled.

"...drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!"

And even that obnoxious pirate song couldn't help but bring a chuckle, so he stopped fighting the urge, and let himself laugh. It had been a long time since he had had a reason to laugh.

"Ye're awake!" Jack called delightedly, bounding away from the helm to crouch at Norrington's side. "Sure an' I though ye might sleep forever, like a princess in a tale."

James sat up, looking around with no little wonder. "It's a perfect day," he said at random.

"Yes. It's always a perfect day. That was a lovely dive," he added, skating around a topic that neither of them really wanted to address.

"Thank you. I've been practicing." Norrington's mouth quirked upwards in his peculiarly British brand of not-quite-smile. As he climbed to his feet, the ship lurched, making him stagger.

"Now, Pearl," Jack said reprovingly, "jealousy's rude. What did we say about manners?"

James eyed him in mild disbelief. "Your ship is jealous?"

"We discussed it, whilst we were waitin' for ye t' arrive," Jack replied with a disapproving look towards the black sails overhead. "She promised t' share."

"As if anyone could take you away from her."

The Pearl shifted again, but this time James could detect a pleased humming, and the oddest sensation of a woman's low voice murmuring, merci. "De rien, Mademoiselle Pearl."

Jack grinned, and slung an arm around Norrington. "Ye'll win 'er over yet."

There was a pause, as Norrington stared pensively out at the sea. "Jack... why are we here?"

"Well, Jamie-luv, I got run through, m' Pearl was wrecked an' set afire, an' ye dived off tha' pretty boat o' yours an' decided not t' swim."

"No, I meant... why here? What is this place?"

Jack shrugged. "I wasn't goin' anywhere without ye, love, an' th' Pearl weren't goin' anywhere without me. So... we stayed."

James rested his head against Jack's shoulder. "And we'll stay until we want to leave?"

"Sure an' if ye wish it, Jamie-luv. What's your pleasure?"

A small smile crept across his face. "You know, Jack, I've never been to Singapore."



( 7 comments — Leave a comment )
Mar. 15th, 2004 07:04 pm (UTC)
Awww....it's sweet...
but, honestly, I prefered the dream bits. That was written really well. It's good suspense but Jack's accent is kinda hard to read. You just kinda have to go back mind and let him speak in your mind...
I liked it, though, for all the awwwww....moments.
~regina kellibus
Mar. 16th, 2004 12:13 pm (UTC)
I didn't even bother to read that fic. Norrington crossed with anything is fundamentally not right.

(eala: "Litotes!"...
and she sounded all excited about it
Mar. 16th, 2004 07:34 pm (UTC)
jerk. Norrington ROCKS. Just because he's not a femmy man-whore like Sparrow...
Mar. 17th, 2004 04:44 am (UTC)
I don't find either of them truly-madly-deeply attractive. Nice movie, but *meh*.
Mar. 17th, 2004 07:07 am (UTC)
well, you're delusional. Johnny Depp looks sexy as all hell in eyeliner (or anything, for that matter.... yes I know you don't like him. Idiot) and Jack Davenport is really sweet. I'd send you the links that convinced me, but you REALLY wouldn't appreciate in. ~coughprettymanlovecough~
you're SURE you're gay? Not liking Johnny Depp is tantamount to not liking men.
Mar. 17th, 2004 09:27 am (UTC)
Umm, honey, you know I go for the nerdy types. Like that guy on the train this morning. And Depp is just... overplayed, in my opinion. I'm just not fahbulous, as you well know. Bee-yatch.

Get your @$$ over here! The orgy just isn't as loud and messy isn't the same...
Mar. 17th, 2004 06:07 pm (UTC)
silly boy. you know how to throw an orgy without my presence in the position of human pillow. go hold a conversation with Johnny Depp's crotch, it'll probably give you as interesting a discussion as I would...
( 7 comments — Leave a comment )


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