Compass
Title: Compass
Author: lilfluffykitten
Rating: PG
Word count: 500 words
Characters: Norrington and Beckett
Disclaimer: Disney owns all these characters, I own nothing of any worth… I'm just doing it for fun not profit!
Summary: Not really angst, not really smut as such. Semi-angsty pre-smut?? What do Beckett and Norrington really want?
Notes: I really really wanted to do a Norrington/Gillette but ah… well… frankly that didn’t work out. Poor Gillette… So I offer another Norrington/Beckett (with added compass cliché!). This only hit me about half an hour ago, so apologies if it’s a little rough round the edges! Happy new year to all…
For Lj-user name: papercutperfect
Requested pairings/characters: James Norrington/Jack Sparrow, James Norrington/Cutler Beckett, James Norrington/Lieutenant Gillette
Requested themes: smut and angst
Things that shouldn’t occur: non-con and AU
Norrington took a sip of his wine, watching as Beckett irritably tapped the compass. He stared at it a while longer before finally sighing and placing it carefully between them on his desk. Reaching for his own wine, he leaned back in his chair and regarded Norrington thoughtfully over the rim of the glass. “Do you know what this is, Commodore?”
Norrington leant forward slightly to get a better look, “Isn’t it Sparrow’s?”
Beckett smiled tightly, “Firstly Commodore, its now mine; secondly I didn’t ask about its ownership, I believe I asked if you knew what it was?”
Norrington arched an eyebrow at him, but dutifully peered at the compass again. The small shabby wooden box was immediately recognisable from the few times he’d handled it before, it was definitely Sparrow’s. Rather like its former owner it looked simple enough, but he was more than aware there was something not entirely right about it; something that went well beyond its apparent reluctance to point north.
“May I?” At Beckett’s nod Norrington picked it up and opened it. He couldn’t understand Beckett’s fascination with it, it was obviously still broken. As he watched the needle jumped wildly between three or four different points before settling into a strange lazy spin. Norrington frowned at it, tilting the box this way and that, but still the needle spun slowly. Feeling unaccountably uncomfortable he snapped the box shut and dropped the compass back on the desk.
“Its just Sparrow’s compass. Was Sparrow’s compass. A compass that doesn’t point north.” He laughed sharply, humourlessly, “It now seems strangely apt.”
Beckett gently pushed the compass back towards him, “Please, Commodore.”
Norrington sighed and opened it again. As before, the needle slowly shivered into a slow circular movement. Intrigued despite himself, Norrington bent closer dimly aware that Beckett was also leaning across the desk to watch. The two men sat in silence for a long moment until Beckett at last spoke, “It would seem, Commodore, that you do not know what you want.”
Norrington looked up, to find Beckett mere inches away. He shook his head slightly, confused, “What…?”
“This compass doesn’t work in the way you’d expect it to.” Beckett murmured. Norrington tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he contemplated Beckett’s cryptic words. Moving slowly, as if he was frightened the other man would pull away, Beckett edged ever closer reaching for the hand holding the compass, cupping it gently. As soon as Beckett touched him, the needle stopped its spinning. For the longest moment it stayed frozen, but eventually it gently turned until it pointed at Norrington, who blinked at it in surprise. Then just as slowly it revolved to point at Beckett who, if anything, seemed just as surprised. The needle seesawed from one to the other, until it gradually turned to point roughly half-way between them. A point, Norrington couldn’t help but wryly note, which appeared to be due north.
“Ah,” Beckett breathed, “It would appear we have a common goal after all.”
Author: lilfluffykitten
Rating: PG
Word count: 500 words
Characters: Norrington and Beckett
Disclaimer: Disney owns all these characters, I own nothing of any worth… I'm just doing it for fun not profit!
Summary: Not really angst, not really smut as such. Semi-angsty pre-smut?? What do Beckett and Norrington really want?
Notes: I really really wanted to do a Norrington/Gillette but ah… well… frankly that didn’t work out. Poor Gillette… So I offer another Norrington/Beckett (with added compass cliché!). This only hit me about half an hour ago, so apologies if it’s a little rough round the edges! Happy new year to all…
For Lj-user name: papercutperfect
Requested pairings/characters: James Norrington/Jack Sparrow, James Norrington/Cutler Beckett, James Norrington/Lieutenant Gillette
Requested themes: smut and angst
Things that shouldn’t occur: non-con and AU
Norrington took a sip of his wine, watching as Beckett irritably tapped the compass. He stared at it a while longer before finally sighing and placing it carefully between them on his desk. Reaching for his own wine, he leaned back in his chair and regarded Norrington thoughtfully over the rim of the glass. “Do you know what this is, Commodore?”
Norrington leant forward slightly to get a better look, “Isn’t it Sparrow’s?”
Beckett smiled tightly, “Firstly Commodore, its now mine; secondly I didn’t ask about its ownership, I believe I asked if you knew what it was?”
Norrington arched an eyebrow at him, but dutifully peered at the compass again. The small shabby wooden box was immediately recognisable from the few times he’d handled it before, it was definitely Sparrow’s. Rather like its former owner it looked simple enough, but he was more than aware there was something not entirely right about it; something that went well beyond its apparent reluctance to point north.
“May I?” At Beckett’s nod Norrington picked it up and opened it. He couldn’t understand Beckett’s fascination with it, it was obviously still broken. As he watched the needle jumped wildly between three or four different points before settling into a strange lazy spin. Norrington frowned at it, tilting the box this way and that, but still the needle spun slowly. Feeling unaccountably uncomfortable he snapped the box shut and dropped the compass back on the desk.
“Its just Sparrow’s compass. Was Sparrow’s compass. A compass that doesn’t point north.” He laughed sharply, humourlessly, “It now seems strangely apt.”
Beckett gently pushed the compass back towards him, “Please, Commodore.”
Norrington sighed and opened it again. As before, the needle slowly shivered into a slow circular movement. Intrigued despite himself, Norrington bent closer dimly aware that Beckett was also leaning across the desk to watch. The two men sat in silence for a long moment until Beckett at last spoke, “It would seem, Commodore, that you do not know what you want.”
Norrington looked up, to find Beckett mere inches away. He shook his head slightly, confused, “What…?”
“This compass doesn’t work in the way you’d expect it to.” Beckett murmured. Norrington tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he contemplated Beckett’s cryptic words. Moving slowly, as if he was frightened the other man would pull away, Beckett edged ever closer reaching for the hand holding the compass, cupping it gently. As soon as Beckett touched him, the needle stopped its spinning. For the longest moment it stayed frozen, but eventually it gently turned until it pointed at Norrington, who blinked at it in surprise. Then just as slowly it revolved to point at Beckett who, if anything, seemed just as surprised. The needle seesawed from one to the other, until it gradually turned to point roughly half-way between them. A point, Norrington couldn’t help but wryly note, which appeared to be due north.
“Ah,” Beckett breathed, “It would appear we have a common goal after all.”