DMTNT 1

Pairing: Jack Sparrow/James Norrington
Rating: NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: All property of the large rodent with a squeaky voice and strange red breeches what lives in the middle of a swamp. I don't get a dime.
Originally Posted: August, 2009
Beta: Beta read by porridgebird and arwensong. Both have my undying gratitude and love!
Summary: Continued from One Silly, Bloody Wish Later, Jack and James go in pursuit of the book that Jack stole for Beckett back in Singapore. However, Beckett hid its location so well that it will take a touch of necromancy to shake loose the truth. But how do you trust the ghost of the slimy little eel you hated when in life?

Jack is not a morning person. I learned that very early on in our association. I, however, am. I am at my best just as dawn is a glimmering thought in the warm air of the Caribbean. Naturally, being on a ship, I took the initiative to start us underway. I roused the morning watch, (which would have normally been the job of the Bo'sun, but as this lackadaisical excuse for a sea vessel's crew seems to lack one, I did it myself) I checked our current status, and I set us on a new heading more westwardly and away from the heavily patrolled Spanish waters. We were well underway by the time Jack emerged from our cabin, blinking at me in consternation.

James Norrington turned smartly to face the bleary-eyed pirate captain. Poised and proper, he stood erect, hands clasped behind his back, as he would to give his morning report for any other commanding officer.

"The ship currently is making good speed and we should see the windward passage by sunset."

Jack blinked again and then managed to look alarmed. He shook his head and waved his hands before him as he marched up to Norrington.

Jack didn't answer James. He merely winced and then did a half-run, half-prance to the starboard rail. Jack scanned the sea intensely. James walked to join him.

Jack head snapped about to look at James, and he gave him a very puzzled frown. More than likely it was because it had been the first time James had ever called him captain, even with prompting. Jack waved a quick hand in his face, and then snapped his fingers several times just before James' nose.

Then Jack remembered the other pressing issue. He swiveled quickly on his heels and shouted up to the helm.

Jack kept his eyes on the helm until he was sure that Mr. Cotton was obeying his order. He then turned to James. "Too close to the waters patrolled by your bloody British fleet!"

"Those Spanish frigates ain't much to worry of, sweetling. The Pearl can outdistance the lot, and most of them are too lazy to even try. But your little British fleet is too full of eager beavers all poppin' t' get a shot off on one of the ships that sunk the Endeavor."

Jack pushed himself off the starboard rail. His first step was long and with his usual flair. "You forget, my ex-commodore-dove, this be the Black Pearl and not one of your fancy, painted little vessels that were toasted with a bottle o' wine in the standing cup by ol' George himself."

James sighed but said nothing as he turned to follow the flamboyantly gesticulating pirate who was his mate and lover. How James wound up in this ludicrous situation was a long and disturbing story filled with deaths: many uncomfortable and grisly deaths.

"Ex-commodore-dove?" James murmured disgruntled as he walked a few steps behind Jack. James knew that Jack never really acknowledged his last rank as admiral and, in fact, preferred to think of him as he had been as a commodore. He had even expressed a wish to live out a fantasy: having James dress in his old commodore uniform as Jack tied him down to the bed in their cabin and lovingly ravished him repeatedly."And I want it t' be that fancy one with all the feathers and frills, like the one I first clapped me eyes on at the docks below the fort, when you stuck that shiny sword in me face."

"So you do see, sweetling, it be a bit counter-intuitive for you, who are still so used t' believing that British waters are safer. At this point in our lives, we must assume the opposite."

At last James' vexation was more than he could stand. "Jack, please do not call me 'sweetling' in front of the men."

Jack turned back to look at James with a pout gracing his amazingly lovely lips, framed by that ridiculously braided beard and mustache.

"By the stars man, this ship needs more discipline. I'm sure your father didn't call Mick 'sweetling' while they were on the seas." James just barely contained the loud, indignant growl in his voice. He didn't want the men privy to the argument between their captain and his new and frighteningly uncommon first mate.

"Well, no," Jack said plainly. James gave a small sigh, feeling vindicated by Jack's admission.

"He called him 'honey cakes,'" Jack added with an overly bright smile. He then swiveled a turn back in the direction he had been heading and swaggered with exaggerated exuberance in the direction of the helm.

They were bound for Tortuga for reasons only Jack could justify. And even he couldn't do so with a straight face. James just saw it as a wasted trip for the crew to indulge in sloth and drunkenness for a few nights. Rum seemed to be the fuel of this ship.

Having traveled briefly with the Pearl's complement before, but only as a deck hand, James was not surprised by the behavior or general blasé indolence. What he was surprised by was how easily they all seemed to accept his authority.

Jack could make the men hop-to when it suited him to do so. Nevertheless, with no place pressing to go, Jack didn't seem so inclined. James found himself often in the position of disciplinarian upon the Black Pearl, barking orders and frowning when the speed of response was not to his liking. And if they thought Jack was frightening when he was in one of his feigned, manic-homicidal moods, they soiled themselves when they saw the ex-pirate-hunter just frown in their general direction. As gratifying as that could be, James found it a little pathetic.

However, James shrugged his shoulders and carried on. The Black Pearl, shoddy discipline and substandard crew, had survived more than most. Who was he to judge in the end?

The first night we spent together on the Pearl, James spread his lovely, long legs for me and I spent the rest of the evening settling into and getting re-acquainted with me new permanent haunt. Ah, my beautiful James!

Let me tell you all about heaven, mate. Heaven is a place just south of James Norrington's navel. Heaven has a lovely scent and taste. Heaven's soft and hot like silk in the Caribbean sun. Heaven's best experienced in candlelight and with the soft breathy words of love flowing from my James' lips as music. I could have spent my whole life long just snuggling up to those pretty bollocks. T'is making my mouth water t' think of it!

But Jack couldn't stay angry with his James; not when he was blustering about the deck snapping orders at sailors like a bloody Royal Navy corsair. It was truly a sight to behold. Jack watched for a moment as James marched up the starboard side, his hawk-like gaze burning holes in the men going aloft. They all double-timed their efforts. Jack had never seen the Pearl's crew so motivated.

Jack would have kicked himself square in the hindquarters if he had seen the goofy, love-struck smile he wore as he watched his man at work below. James stood proud and strong, a force to be reckoned with and none of the Pearl's pirate crew wanted to reckon with that!

Wild and untamable like the beautiful, deadly sea, James was a man few could handle, and yet Jack was handling him just fine. James gave his respect and loyalty completely when earned. Jack learned that the earning was not so easy, but Jack's faithfulness to his pledge to James had done most of the job for him. The rest, it seemed, could be attributed to James' strangely perverse sense of humor. There was an irony here to be served: James as the first mate on the Black Pearl, the ship that originally brought about his ruin.

Or perhaps it was the way Jack could make the man scream his name in the night. Jack smiled again, pulling his gaze up and to the horizon as he remembered the way James begged to be taken just only the night before. As addicted to James' silky passage as Jack was, he was equally sure that James was addicted to the feeling of Jack's heavy member sheathed in his depths. Just the way in which James would move, writhing sensually and pushing back on each thrust, snarling back over his shoulder, ordering Jack to move harder, faster, could be considered proof enough.

It didn't do to be daydream so hard about that. Jack's sunny smile sobered as he realized he now had an achingly uncomfortable erection stowed away in his breeches. He scanned the deck looking for Cotton so he could hand off the helm once more. He needed a little time below to get himself in-hand... so to speak.

James' voice came right next to his ear and Jack nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. "Bloody bugger!" Jack whirled about to face him.

James stood with that cool, bloody-infernal smirk on his face, his hands still clasped behind him, but his eyes travel conspicuously to the front of Jack's breeches.

"Fiend!" Jack declared pushing a finger into James' chest. James, in response, chuckled deliciously.

"Go on, Captain," James said, his green eyes making sultry promises to Jack. "I'll take the watch until you have... dealt with that pressing matter below."

"Now that we are safe and tied fast, you may now wish to tell me the real reason we are here," James said to Jack, looking him over coolly.

Jack gazed at him for a long moment, considering. When he at last spoke, it was in a hushed, confidential tone. "You know I love you and therefore I trust you, James-sweetling. We are here for..." Jack paused dramatically, looking about himself for eavesdroppers, for which there were plenty. "...rum."

James frown turned into a full blown scowl. "For once, Jack, could you just tell me The Truth?"

Jack smiled. "And what would be the sport in that?" The men standing about and listening chuckled softly. "Ask anyone. If I went about being straight all the time, who on this bleedin' ship would believe me?"

"Scarlett," Jack murmured with a distressed grimace. He grabbed James' elbow and began to pull him along in a new direction. "Aye, and sooner or later I'll have to face that music, but not just yet," Jack added, rubbing his left cheek in memory.

I left Gibbs in Tortuga one year and a number of months back, and I think we both knew that we would cross paths again. Now, I could go over the whole history of it, mate, me and Gibbs and the lot, but I won't bore you such. Suffice it to say that I met ol' Gibbs in Singapore and we've been crossin' paths for decades now. Gibbs respects me because he knows the whole of it. He knows the unadulterated, unembellished truth... and he's still willin' to weave a tall tale about it. He told me once that people expect no less from tales which come from the sea and the men who sail her. I think he just gets a bit o' fun watchin' people's mouths drop open.

Was Gibbs ever my lover? Not as such. I think I never suited his fancy. As for me, he never suited my fancy either. That was just as well. It's good to have a lackey... er conspirator who is not so deeply and complexly attached. And that, my dear friends, is the worth of Joshamee Gibbs.

I knew I would find Gibbs just where I found him last time, bless the man.

"Curse you, scurvy dog! 'n don't ye know that drownin' a man sleepin' is more than just bad luck, but cowardly t' boot!"

Gibbs then blinked and smiled when he recognized the man who had soaked him. "Jack Sparrow!" He stood, pushing disgruntled pigs out of his way, and began to cross the pen to where Jack stood, but then stopped cold, the smile fleeing his face.

Jack sighed exaggeratedly. "T'is easy, luv. The way I see it, the problem be this: You are a mite too distractin'. Marchin' up and down me Pearl with them long legs and those hot green eyes flashin,' I'd steer her right into a sand bar. You and that body of yours be takin' up my vision, so..." Jack stopped to take a healthy swig from the rum bottle he carried with him. He then corked the bottle and stuffed it in one of his voluminous pockets. "Therefore!" he declared raising a triumphant finger. "We need someone other than ourselves, whose loyalty is without question... muchly... who can bellow orders in our proxy while we are otherwise occupied testing the tensile strength of the bedding in our cabin."

"You, sir, underestimate the bewitchitude of your most attractive person," Jack answered with a slurring, authoritative voice. "There not be a man on the Pearl that hasn't noticed your fine posterior."

"Am I?" Jack asked, swaying slightly as he turned back to James. The smell of rum, strong on Jack's breath, hit James full in the face.

"When did you start drinking this day, Jack?" James asked as he made a disagreeable face.

The Cock's Crow was crowded, as it usually was, with the usual drunken crowd playing dangerous games with blatant disregard. Jack and James and their small entourage passed many a table where an active game of mumblety-peg or split the kipper was being play by steely-eyed, inebriated souls who should not have been in possession of sharp objects or projectile weapons.

"Mrs. Turner told us he was dead," Gibbs said as he sat at the table across from Jack and James.

"And so he was," Jack replied nonchalantly. "But death is not always a permanent state, as you well know... green flash at sunset and all."

Jack smile cocky, leaning back on his chair. "Found and used. But it's no good to anyone else. It has a price like all these crazy mystical objects. So unless you plan on using it for someone else, ye best be plannin' on settlin' down in the swamps of Florida. I imagine ol' Hector is pretty tired of frogs and snakes for supper by now."

"We had an accord," Jack smiled as he tipped back his drink. "And as much as I despise that black-hearted rapscallion, I wish him well. You see, a recipient of the fountain must stay within a league of the fountain and serve that mousy creature for all eternity.... A fair deal for some."

Jack pouted slightly in response. "I had other reasons more pressing on me mind, actually." He looked briefly over to James.

"I take it then that the fountain what which brought the admiral back isn't binding to him."

"No," Jack replied. "He just gets his life back. No immortality. No eternal service to a large rodent with a squeaky voice and strange red breeches what lives in the middle of a swamp."

"Ah, yes, business!" Jack agreed brightly. "Now Gibbs, the Pearl may be in for a lengthy voyage so we be needin' a full ship's complement. Able bodied... sound of mind and what not." Jack waved a hand carelessly and then took another drink.

"Mayhaps..." Jack replied slyly. He then made a furtive motion with his head, his face trying to gesture to Gibbs. Gibbs gave him a puzzled look.

Jack smiled too brightly. "Gibbs! I think I see a mutual friend! Come, let's go greet him." Jack stood from their table. He turned swiftly to James. "You stay here, luv. Mind the rum."

Jack trotted about the table, grabbing Gibbs by the arm. He literally yanked the man from his seat and dragged him along, leading him past a rather calm knife fight where two men, barely able to stand in place, faced each other, slicing the air with their blades while mumbling slurred insults and threats.

Jack pulled Gibbs aside, with a finger to his own lips, hushing him. Jack put his mouth closer to Gibbs' ear.

"Right mate, let's just say we need to see Singapore again," he said in a tone quiet enough to be confidential but loud enough to be heard over the din.

Jack pulled back blinking, slightly unsteady on his feet. He glared at Gibbs. "I trust me James with me life!"

"Then why are we keepin' this counsel from him now?" Gibbs asked, confounding Jack's logic in its unsteady tracks.

Gibbs nodded in understanding. "It's just as well, Jack. I can have men for you come the morn, but it be best that Norrington not be there when ye come to inspect them. Men about here might not take a shine to shippin' out with the former 'Pirate Hunter' as the ship's mate. I'd prefer not t' say such to the man's face."

Jack nodded. "Point taken. I'll see that James is occupied with the preparations. That won't be hard t' do. The man still has a stick up his arse for proper preppper... Proper prepperrr... For getting everything square."

"Aye," Gibbs replied. He was silent for a moment as Jack weaved slightly in front of him. "So ye love him then?" Gibbs asked.

"Aye," Jack answered forthrightly. "Love of me life. Who knew? Funny ol' world."

Jack shrugged in that way of his, using his whole body. "Well, I've been smitten with dear Norrington for some time... and we technically became intimately acquainted more than a year before."

"We spent some time apart," Jack admitted. "He being trapped on an island by Calypso. Now, y'see what I used the fountain for, aye?"

Jack frowned for a moment as he realized what Gibbs' surprise suggested about what Gibbs thought of him. But instead of asking a question that would possibly lead to confusing answers, Jack chose that time to end the conversation. Grabbing a nearly empty bottle from a table, he broke it over the head of one of the drunken combatants as he swayed too close. The wobbly knife fight came to an abrupt end as the man capsized, tumbling to the ground like a fallen tree. The other combatant and onlookers stared at the unconscious man with confused vexation. However no one stopped or questioned Jack as he stepped over the prone man, excusing himself with exaggerated politeness as he went.

The march didn't slow or stop, even through the worst of the street's drunken revelries, until Jack was propelled with great force through the threshold of the Pearl's grand cabin. Jack stumbled headlong, catching himself on the edge of his large oak navigation table. Jack turned as he managed to get his feet back under himself. James wore the stormiest scowl he had yet come to see, and it was beautiful.

"Do not call me that right now. I'm liable to stuff the ruddy words back down your throat!"

James huffed a growl and closed the cabin door. "What was so important that you could tell Gibbs and not me? Am I not the first mate of this ship? Am I not privy to the captain's counsel?"

"Oh!" Jack said half to himself, an amused smile brightening his face. "Sorry 'bout all that, luv. T'is an embarrassin' little habit, to be sure, and do I have egg on me face at that."

"You will have a fist print on your face soon enough, Sparrow, if you do not tell me what is going on."

James' frown took on an even more menacing edge, and Jack knew he had best be quick with the explanations. James made no idle threats. Nevertheless, James' ire made him more irresistible to Jack and Jack loved challenges. He walked up slowly to his angry lover, and reached out to touch his face.

"That being?" James asked suspiciously, but he did not pull away from the touch.

"That being the story of the Dragon Book: a certain book once owned by Sao Feng and given to Lord Beckett the elder."

"A book you stole to please your former lover, Cutler Beckett," James added cuttingly.

Jack frowned and snatched his hand back as if burnt. He looked James over irritably, but then went to the side cabinet of the cabin. He pulled from its cluttered depths a small chest. Pulling a key from his waistcoat pocket, Jack opened the chest. He pulled forth the rolled center of Sao Feng's map, slapping it down on the table.

Jack turned with a small flourish, and stopped to look James over as if he were gauging the strength of his possible reactions and the best way to proceed. Then he just dived forward, his left hand pulling back the fold of James' coat while the right hand grasped the compass looped to James' belt. Jack's own compass given to James to hold as a pledge that James also holds Jack's heart.

"Together, luv, these two items be powerful indeed, but their power is limited. We are hitting upon the limits of that power now." Jack slowly walked back up to James and pressed his lips to James' ear.

"The book, sweetling," he whispered. "T'is the final piece. With it our power would be limitless." Jack added a small kiss to James' earlobe for good measure.

Jack took a step to stand before James, placing an arm about his waist, he pulled him close.

"There is magic still out there, my love! Magic for us to find. Imagine if we could find a genie in a bottle or a magic sword. Think of all the things we could do!"

"If Sao Feng had all these items in his possession at one time, why did he not utilize them thus?"

"Ah!" Jack said stepping back from James and lifting a finger as he drove his point. "He didn't have the compass. Fear of Calypso herself kept him from gaining it. Sao Feng was not a visionary. He was a materialistic type who feared that which slipped beyond to the supernatural."

Jack smiled. James looked less threatening but still beautiful and that bode well for Jack.

"And just where shall we start?" James replied darkly. "It makes sense that Beckett kept that book in a very secure location. If I were him, it would be with me at all times. That leads it to be at the bottom of the ocean floor with the Endeavor."

"That is if you were him, sweetling, which, thank the stars, you are not. No! Cutty was a sly bastard. He left that book in the safest locale he had."

"You are purely daft, Jack," James exclaimed. "We can't just sail the Black Pearl into harbor at Port Royal!"

"I know that," Jack said with a flustered wave of his hands. "That's why you and me are going in alone. We have a pirate king t' visit."

"Except that little incident on the docks of Tortuga that you told me of." James crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Jack.

"The man neglected his watch and allowed the Black Pearl to be stolen by a mutinous mate."

"T'was Barbossa. All the same, I wouldn't put it past Hector to slip something in ol' Gibbsies cup."

"I'm not rightly sayin' that's how it came about. I'm just statin' the possibilities."

"Deserted or forced out, luv? T'is a different thing when the threat of a man's life and freedom hang in the balance. What choice did he have, eh?" Jack asked as he walked back over to a cupboard. He pulled a new bottle of rum out from within.

James walked smartly to his side, snatching the rum from his hands. "You've had enough of that!"

"Someone has to mind your drinking lest we all wind up dead with you at the helm. Also, I prefer to talk to you while you are still coherent. Get used to it, Sparrow, unless you believe our association is in error."

"More bloody demanding than some hell-cat woman," Jack muttered under his breath.

"Ah, Gibbs," Jack continued. "The man is solely looking to our best interest. I happen to agree with him. You needn't be present when we take on the new men."

"You're a tad bit scary to the average scallywag, luv." Jack said carefully. "Be that as it may," he added in a brighter voice, "we have a need to see to the restock and provisions. On the morrow, I'll hand you the Privy Purse and send you off with Mr. Marty; he'll know just where to go. You can take your scowl and bellow to the market men and get us a fine price on the lot. What say you to that?"

"Does that mean, 'Fine thinking, Jack. I'll do just that. Now let's go have a right proper tumble'?"

Jack frowned first at James and then the bottle. Then with a shrug, he uncorked it and took a deep swallow. It seemed like a fair Plan B.

Dead Men Tell No Tales

Chapter 1