Fine Men, Chapter 1
Fine Men
by
Pairing: Jack Sparrow, James Norrington
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: "PotC" belongs to Disney.
Originally Posted: 2007
Note: Takes place after "Pirates of the Carribean: Curse of the Black Pearl". This story presumes the sequels did not happen. Inspired by a long-time-ago line challenge from raven_writes: He was the ocean and I was the sand...
Summary: After forming an unlikely friendship, Jack Sparrow and James Norrington embark on a quest to better each other, so that they both might be fine men.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: "PotC" belongs to Disney.
Originally Posted: 2007
Note: Takes place after "Pirates of the Carribean: Curse of the Black Pearl". This story presumes the sequels did not happen. Inspired by a long-time-ago line challenge from raven_writes: He was the ocean and I was the sand...
Summary: After forming an unlikely friendship, Jack Sparrow and James Norrington embark on a quest to better each other, so that they both might be fine men.
The orchestra playing in the background provided a tune for the slow, measured dance, walked by men and women dressed carefully for such a toity society event. The women of Port Royal wore long gowns and corsets, white gloves and jewels, and intricate upswept hairstyles; the men had donned rich-coloured jackets and ruffled shirts, stocking and breeches, and proper powdered wigs.
A chosen few deep blue jackets with gold trim highlighted their number, hung upon the stock-straight postures of the Naval officers present. Most specifically upon the tall, dashing frame of one Commodore James Norrington.
One Commodore James Norrington, who stood at the balcony railing, full champagne glass in hand, eyes turned upon the shining, tossing sea as it crashed upon the white sand below the cliffs.
He felt much like the driftwood carried upon the tide. Battered, worn away, polished and tossed.
The wedding party went on around him, his appearance offering his tacit approval and support of the Turner-Swann union, instead of the Norrington-Swann union as had once been expected, if only not for a change of heart on the fort's battlements under the Caribbean sun.
James wondered now if he'd taken ill with sun sickness that day. The circumstances surely supported such. And one only need turn around to see one flouncing popinjay to prove it. The commodore closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Come, Commodore, surely 'tis not so bad, to attend such a splendid occasion."
James turned his chin to lay eyes upon said popinjay, dressed to the nines. For a pirate. Stifling a sigh, James silently corrected himself. Privateer. "Good day... Captain Sparrow."
Dark, dark eyes, even darker now lined with kohl, were focused on the Navy man's clean-shaven face. Those eyes danced with amusement. "Good day... Commodore Norrington," Jack answered, mimicking the drawn-out naming.
Swallowing another put-upon sigh, James knew he would do well to at least appear cordial. "Splendid occasion, indeed," he agreed, though he could inject little enthusiasm into his voice.
Although usually jolly, Jack's smile was at this time quite small, and his eyes tamed themselves. "Indeed," he agreed, unusually reserved.
James was somewhat surprised, were he to be honest. He studied the pir... privateer a little more closely. It appeared the captain had not only cleaned himself up for the occasion, but attired himself somewhat more appropriately. "And how do you find this splendid occasion, if I might ask, Captain Sparrow?"
Jack looked over the commodore. The same stiff shoulders, ramrod straight back, wig and hat just so. His lips twitched. "Well, as you do know, I am passing fond of young Will and the lovely Miss Swann... Mrs. Turner," he answered, one shoulder sliding forward in an abbreviated motion of his normal flap.
"Aren't you just," James said, finally taking a short sip of his champagne.
"And you, Commodore, you. Your presence here is surely a surprise to some," Jack mentioned, reaching out to lift the glass from the other man's hand and taking a long draught.
James barely blinked as the glass disappeared from his grip. "Surely it is," he murmured, clasping his hands behind his back and turning toward the sea. He knew Jack studied him. Just as did all the rest of society. Some disapproving, some pitying.
"Fancy a game of chess?"
Blinking, the commodore turned toward the captain, surprise clear on his face. "Chess?" he echoed.
Jack's lips twitched. "Aye, Commodore. Chess. I'd be surprised if you're not familiar with the game."
"I am indeed familiar with chess," James answered, mystified.
"Come along, then, Commodore. The Governor has a lovely board all set in his study, along with some better drink than this," the captain said with an eye roll as he set the empty flute on the stone wall of the terrace.
Three hours later, James was still mystified. The game had started simply enough after they had poured themselves satisfying tumblers of liquor. As the time progressed, they each grew more comfortable. Both now sprawled in the armchairs facing the board, jackets removed, hats set carefully aside.
And James was confounded. Captain Jack Sparrow could play chess, and far surpassing well. A wry smile pulled at his mouth as the he tipped his king. "Well played," James complimented, raising his eyes to meet the dark ones across the board.
"Thank you," Jack answered simply, only the slightest trace of his drawl to be heard.
James took up his glass and sat back, gazing across the board at his opponent. "Where did you learn to play chess?"
A toss of Jack's head sent the trinkets braided into his black hair to tinkling. "In many hours spent a-sea, of course," he said. "One of my for-a-time crew was an educated man, and we passed the time."
"You seem to have acquired some skill," James admitted from behind his tumbler of scotch.
Jack toasted him. "I accept your compliment, Commodore, with thanks."
They sat in the strange, companionable silence, sipping at their drinks. "I suppose I might have to reform my opinion about you," James said slowly, running his eyes over the other man's face.
A smile slowly pulled at Jack's lips. "Will you, then," he commented, dark eyes dancing.
James's nose wrinkled. "You find that amusing."
"Indeed I do, Commodore," Jack replied. "As unto now our relationship has merely been you chasing and me escaping."
"Not every time," James quickly corrected.
"Not every time," Jack allowed with a nod. "Though you wouldn't have that, had it not been for the blacksmith, and then Barbossa," he said with a bit more of his usual flair.
"It matters not. It wasn't every time that you escaped," James said expansively.
Jack's smile reflected his amusement. "It wasn't every time," he agreed again.
James narrowed his eyes. "What are you laughing at? Me?"
Jack snorted and nodded, his smile broadening. James frowned and leaned back in his chair petulantly as the captain chuckled.
"See here, now, Captain, I am not a man to be laughed about," James insisted.
"I must respectfully disagree," Jack said merrily.
James's nose wrinkled as he stood up and went to the bar to refill his glass. When he turned about, it was to find himself chest to chest with Jack. James flinched in surprise.
"Captain?"
"Jack."
"I know that," James huffed.
"You do," Jack confirmed, not moving a bit.
"Captain."
"Jack."
"Captain Jack Sparrow, what are you about?"
Jack slowly smiled. "Just being neighborly." And he shifted to the side to reach for the bottle.
Off balance, James stepped away, confused. "This isn't neighborly," he finally objected.
"I must disagree, Commodore," Jack said, turning with his refilled tumbler to face the other man.
"Of course you must, Captain," James said, rolling his eyes.
"Jack."
"Captain Jack..."
"Well, I suppose it's an improvement."
James just stared at the pir... privateer. "What are you about?" he repeated himself.
Jack walked slowly toward and then around the commodore. "Just being neighborly," he repeated himself.
James shook his head, stymied. "Why would I be neighborly to you?"
"You are being neighborly to me. Scotch," he said, lifting his glass. "Discussion," he said, gesturing about the room. "Challenge," he said, walking over to stand by the chess board. He watched James the entire time.
Listening suspiciously, James finally nodded. "Well. I wouldn't necessarily call that neighborly."
Jack opened chuckled, toasting the other man as he reseated himself in the armchair with all his usual flounce. "Well, I would."
James pulled himself up stiffly. "I am not neighborly with pir..."
"Ah ah ah," Jack said, waggling a finger.
James sighed and deflated. "Privateers," he muttered.
Jack grinned, his gold tooth catching a glint of sun. "Now, Commodore, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Turning up his nose, James sat down in his chair a bit harder than he needed to, giving a soft grunt in acknowledgement.
Jack laughed openly. "How about a walk, Commodore? It's getting a bit overwarm in here."
James looked down at his dress uniform. "What have you in mind? Back out on the terrace with the guests?"
That tinkling sound again. "No, Commodore, I fancy a walk on the beach."
"The beach? I'm not at all attired to walk on the beach. Absolutely not."
"I suppose we could go back out to the terrace. Fine food and spirits, all the lovely matrons and ladies watching your every move..." Jack baited.
James stiffened again, looking supremely uncomfortably.
"I'm sure it would only be a matter of minutes before you would find some sort of companion for dancing and small talk. Many of the ladies present fancy a titled husband," Jack added.
"Fine," James said abruptly, standing so quickly the chair scooted back with a rough squeak. "A walk on the beach."
Jack bounced up. "Well, now, a fine suggestion," he said brightly. But as James reached for his jacket, he frowned. "Commodore, that won't do, not at all."
James looked up in surprise. "What?"
"You won't need that fine jacket for the beach, or this lovely vest," Jack said, tugging lightly at a chain hooking two buttons together across James's chest.
James frowned. "Whyever not?"
Jack shook his head mournfully. "Don't you have any idea how to relax? You cannot wear a dress uniform to the beach and have the remotest hope of enjoying yourself." As for himself, he unwound his long, scarlet sash and laid it with his jacket before starting to unbutton his own colorful vest.
James watched blankly. "Are you undressing?" His voice sounded scandalized.
"Very good powers of observation," Jack complimented.
"Observ... are you undressing?"
"Commodore. Off with that fancy vest. You don't want the salt and sand to ruin it and burnish your buttons."
"Have you any idea how inappropriate this is?" James said.
"Inappropriate. Pffft," Jack replied, pulling off his vest so he stood in boots, trousers, belt and shirt.
Taken aback, James just stared.
"Husband?" Jack reminded.
James started unbuttoning.
"There, see, you have your priorities right, Commodore."
"I'm not so sure I agree, Captain," James muttered as the chains clinked quietly.
"Jack."
"Capt... why do you keep doing that?"
"Just being neighborly," Jack said easily.
James's eyes narrowed. "Neighborly."
"Yes," Jack agreed, shifting his weight back and forth.
James finished unfastening the vest and slid it from his shoulders. "We aren't neighbors."
"Ah, but we could be."
"We could be?"
"Aye."
"I think not, Captain."
"Jack."
"Cap..." James sighed heavily. "Jack."
Jack smiled widely and bounced a little. James just shook his head, the look on his face one of put-upon suffering. "Fine. Call me James. But not in company, mind you."
Jack shook his head, face pious. James didn't believe it for a moment. Then Jack reached up and started untying James's cravat. Blinking in surprise, James grabbed Jack's hands.
"What are you doing?"
"You'll keel over in the heat, wearing that thing, unable to breath," Jack said logically. "You were red as a tomato outside earlier."
"A tomato?"
"Aye, a lovely, juicy red tomato. Though, it also may have been the blush after the fourth lady petitioned for your hand," Jack said, eyes dancing.
James felt his cheeks heat.
"Yes, exactly!" Jack said, eyes widening in delight.
James yanked at the cravat, pulling it off and folding it carefully, laying it beside his vest. "And what else must I do to be appropriately attired for the beach?" he asked drolly.
"Now, James, don't be so negative. It doesn't suit you at all, luv."
"Luv?" James objected.
"Now I'm of the mind to say that you need to..."
"Luv?" James repeated, voice just as offended.
"James," Jack said consolingly.
"Jack," James said dangerously.
Jack's grin was rakish. "Off with the wig."
James stared. "Excuse me?"
"The wig," Jack prompted. "Off with it."
"Absolutely not."
"Husband?"
"I don't see how..."
"They'll recognize you from the terrace and come down to the beach."
James hesitated, glancing to the window that looked out onto the party.
"A walk on the beach would be quite refreshing," Jack prodded, slowly walking around the other man.
James's eyes darted about, following Jack's progress. The captain stopped in place and smiled innocently. James frowned deeply.
"James, don't disappoint me," Jack tried.
James's eyes widened. "Disappoint you?"
"Have you no spirit? No backbone?"
"No backbone? What are you talking about, you crazy pir..."
"Ah ah ah," Jack said, waggling a finger.
"You crazy pirate," James asserted loudly.
Jack affected an offended moue.
"Oh, don't give me that look," James muttered, turning away to walk to a small table in front of a gilded mirror. Frowning the whole time, he started pulling pins from the wig.
Jack watched, a small smile growing. James pulled off the wig and set it down carefully. His dark brown hair was caught back in a black ribbon, and he smoothed it down.
"Now that I am a complete laughingstock, do I meet with your approval?" James said cynically.
"Yes, James," Jack said quietly. "Look quite handsome, you do, without all that frippery."
James was taken aback. "You're not one to talk about frippery," he accused.
"Ah, but my frippery is entertaining and gorgeous," Jack said gaily, slinking across the room toward James. "Yours is just stuffy."
"Stuffy?" James's voice again raised in protest.
"Come along, James," Jack said, ignoring the other man's reply. "The beach awaits."
Muttering, James followed him. "What am I supposed to say when we are accosted by the guests and my manner of undress is brought to light?"
"We'll just have to make sure we won't be accosted by guests, won't we?" Jack said cheekily, glancing out the study door to check the hallway.
"I'm going to regret this," James mumbled.
Jack looked over his shoulder at the man behind him, taking in the firm, wiry body usually hidden under layers of fabric, now set off by simple, embroidered cotton; the dark hair already curling about James's neck and ears since released from the wig; and the melting façade that revealed the true man who took refuge behind so much formality.
"No, luv, you won't."
James drew a breath to object to the preposterous endearment once again, but Jack shushed him as he opened the door wider. When James hesitated, Jack reached back, took hold of his arm and pulled him along.
They moved through the second floor, Jack prancing as if he were a dashing thief—which he was, James reminded himself—while James walked after him straight-backed with his hands tucked behind him, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left. He couldn't believe he'd allowed Jack to talk him into this.
Sun sickness. It must be sun sickness.
After two near misses where Jack caught James about the waist and held him back, they emerged from the service entrance to the manor. Jack took off at a lope to make it to a tree and hide behind the trunk. James shook his head and rolled his eyes, strolling sedately down the path.
"James. James!" Jack hissed.
Hands again tucked properly behind him, James turned an exasperated look on Jack.
"Don't you know anything about sneaking?" Jack asked.
"Sneaking? Members of His Royal Majesty's Navy do not sneak," James asserted.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Then it's a good thing His Royal Majesty's Navy isn't here, isn't it?" He grabbed James's arm and yanked him along to behind a rose trellis.
"Jack, is this really necessary?" James asked as he stumbled along.
"Shhhh."
"Jack," James tried again. "Be reasonable."
Jack turned around to look at James. His black eyes flashed with humor and his teeth were framed by a wide smile. "Now, James, what would be the fun in that? You're more than reasonable enough for both of us."
"Lord, no truer words have been spoken..."
Jack grabbed James's arm and they were off again, out the back of the garden and into the trees. Jack soon found a path that meandered down the hillside, leading to the beach. Soon they walked on the hard-packed sand just above where the tide washed up.
The breeze off the sea was cooler than that heated wind upon the terrace, and James found himself, against his better judgment, relaxing as he walked by Jack's side. He would never have thought he would be doing this. The wind blew a lock of his dark hair into his face, and he absently smoothed it back behind one ear.
"Why aren't you married, James?" James turned his chin in surprise as Jack continued. "I mean besides recent events, of course."
James studied Jack's face, which was remarkably open and curious. It struck him then that Jack hid very little. He was up front in all his dealings, in James's experience, and that was remarkably rare—also in James's experience.
"The Navy, I suppose," James answered slowly. "The Governor hinted at Elizabeth's hand some time ago, pending my promotion so that I might provide a comfortable life for her. There was no reason to go looking."
"And no desire."
"What?" James asked, stopping in the sand.
Jack turned to face him. He had one thumb hooked into his waistband as he gestured with the other. "No desire. To find another woman to take to wife."
James calmed. He'd made an assumption. "Yes. I suppose that fits well enough."
"Don't you enjoy women?" Jack asked curiously as he started to walk again.
"Of course I enjoy... just why are we discussing this?" James started walking as well.
"Just being neighborly."
"Jack, you know full well this discussion is far beyond the bounds of being neighborly," James chastised.
"Being friendly, then," Jack amended.
"We're not friends," James said automatically.
Jack stopped, which caused James to pause and look back. The other man's normally ebullient nature seemed shadowed. "You're right, of course," Jack said slowly. "We're not friends."
James dropped his eyes. The answer had passed his lips without thought, and despite its veracity, he regretted its harshness. Then a hand settled on his shoulder. When he looked up, it was into a revitalized Jack's eyes.
"Don't worry, James. I'll keep working on you."
James's brows rose. "Working on me?"
Jack smiled even wider and patted his shoulder again. "Don't you worry," he repeated. "There's hope for you yet."
"Hope?" James echoed as Jack turned them both to start walking again.
"As you know, I'm a persistent man," Jack said expansively.
"Dear God, I cannot handle such truth," James moaned.
Jack swatted his arm. "And I have faith that you are not so stuck up as you often act..."
"Stuck up?"
"And that with my good influence, we'll make you into a fine man yet."
"Jack," James growled.
"You're already a fine sailor, James, why not also be a fine man?"
The compliment was marred by the further veiled insult. "Do tell, Captain Sparrow..."
"Jack."
"Captain Sparrow. Do tell why I am not now a fine man."
Jack stopped on the sand and turned James to face him—they weren't even an arm's length apart. "I think we can be friends, James. I think you need it, to remember that not everything is duty and orders and propriety. I think I need it, to remember that not everything is rum and treasure and careless living." He paused, and their two sets of dark eyes met. "Then perhaps, we both might be fine men."
James studied Jack, his eyes reflecting his surprise at such fully formed and accurate thoughts. Minutes passed as the water crashed upon the beach, wearing a tiny bit of the solid earth away to carry it into the sea. But with the next wave, a different tiny bit of dirt was returned to compact upon the sandbar, and so the circle continued.
He was the ocean and I was the sand...
"Perhaps, Jack. Perhaps we both might be fine men."
By mutual silent assent, they both turned and resumed their walk on the beach as the calm wind passed them by and the living sea welcomed them home.
Leave a Comment
(If you're commenting about a specific chapter, please mention that.)
Read Comments
(Warning: May contain spoilers!)