fanfic: Emergency Landing
Title: Emergency Landing
Author: txorakeriak
Fandoms: Pirates of the Caribbean meets Star Wars - or the other way around.
Disclaimer: Rodent/George Lucas (No, this is NOT a pairing!)
Pairings: Vader/Palpatine, Sparrington - and some implications
Rating: PG-13 for aforementioned implications
Word Count: 5,181
Summary: An unidentifyable flying object lands in the Caribbean. Confusion ensues.
A/N: Written for order_of_chaos, who gave me the following prompt: "Sparrington: Norrington-privateer, Sparrow-pirate, Gillette-privateer, Groves-navy, Evil=Vader+Emperor". I hope you’re happy, I wouldn’t have done this for anyone else - well, no one else could have come up with such a prompt in the first place, so… Well. For you, then. And the FiWriMo (as opposed to NaNo) of 2005 (*hides*).
Beta: porridgebird and burningliz *glomps* All remaining mistakes are my own and you may not steal them and use them in your fic. ;)
Warning: If you haven't guessed it yet - crack!crossover!fic.
***
Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, at some point in the imaginary past, probably around 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
"Master!" The deep, breathy voice of the Dark Lord reverberated through the Great Cabin of the black Imperial Star Destroyer as the tall man stood at the door, trying to get the Emperor awake. It was important. They could not afford any delay. And there was Palpatine, sleeping soundly, as if nothing was wrong. As if the ship wasn’t about to break into pieces. Vader wanted to growl, but only a cough came out. Damn those lungs. "MASTER!"
Palpatine yawned and slowly stretched. "Not now." And with this, he snuggled against his pink pillow and purred, obviously trying to fall asleep again.
"Master! It is important!" Vader was very tempted to find out if he could use the mind choke on a Sith Lord as well, but something inside him told him that it was better to decide against it. Another time. Not when they were about to be roasted alive.
Palpatine sighed. "You better have a good reason for disturbing my beauty sleep," he hissed. Angrily, he cast his pillows and blankets aside and stepped out of his comfortable bed, naked as he was born - if he was ever born at all, which was a bit hard to tell, really. He grabbed a red gown from the chair next to his bed and dressed. "Well? What is it?"
"Master, one of the engines is on fire," Vader reported. "We have to prepare an emergency landing."
"WHAT?" the Emperor roared. "Who is responsible for this?" In the blink of an eye, the exotic space plant on his nightstand transformed into a heap of ashes.
"Two minions," Vader obliged. "No worries, master, I already choked them."
Palpatine raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Well, then. Make the necessary preparations to land."
"On Earth?"
"Heck, why not? Do we have a choice?"
Vader hesitated. "Well - no. But we’re directly above the Atlantic Ocean. Is our ship ready to land on water?"
The Emperor let out an exasperated sigh. "We will see if she is, won’t we?" he said, slowly and menacingly. "Now get out, I need some more sleep."
Silently praising his dark mask, Vader rolled his eyes and left the cabin, cursing his lazy diva of an Emperor under deep breaths.
***
Somewhere else in the Caribbean Sea (but not too far), same time.
James Norrington, captain of the privateer frigate Cerberus, stood at his ship’s starboard railing and glanced at the horizon. The sun was at its zenith, keeping the air warm despite the strong wind from the north, and Norrington was glad to be on his way home again. Three more days until they would reach Port Royal. It was a good reason to be cheerful, not just for the ex-commodore, but also for his crew, who had been jolly and in good spirits the whole day so far. Not that they didn’t like their jobs, of course, but the ship was going heavy and some members of the crew, especially an old sailor with a wooden leg, Fredrickson by name, were already counting the minutes until she would sink.
Norrington didn’t care for superstition, but he had to admit that the booty they had accumulated from the four Spanish galleons they had attacked on their way from Nassau to Port Royal was considerable. Well, it had to be, for he was still paying his debts for having lost the Interceptor - he and Andrew Gillette, his former first lieutenant, who had insisted on sharing the blame with him, for whatever reasons. It would have been perfectly sufficient for the Admiralty to sacrifice him alone. Norrington sighed. Well, at least they had been able to save Theodore Groves, now a post captain in command of the Dauntless.
Norrington started. There was something on the horizon, a little black spot. He blinked - and the spot was gone.
"Glass!" he bellowed across the deck and a second later, Gillette was at his side, giving him his telescope.
***
Port Royal, Jamaica, exactly three days earlier.
Governor Farthingdale was not amused. There was a society ball coming up and he feared he had to attend it in the nude because he simply had nothing to wear. True, his wardrobe nearly burst, but that didn't necessarily mean that there were suitable clothes in it.
A solution to the problem was found quickly: The newly promoted Captain Groves would be sent on an errand to make up for the generosity he, Hubert Farthingdale, had granted him during that dreadful affair of tropical fever - which was his explanation for the Navy suddenly seeing skeletal pirates.
Theodore Groves wasn't pleased with the errand he was sent on, especially because it was by no means appropriate to his rank, but he really had no choice. Indeed, he was indebted to Governor Farthingdale, but his gratitude had limits. It was difficult to be grateful when he could not share his luck with the only two friends he had in the world.
***
Tortuga, a week and two hours earlier.
There was nothing in the world Mr Gibbs hated more than being woken up from his well-deserved sleep. Scowling at the man who could only be Jack Sparrow, he got up from the floor and braced himself for the shower to rid himself of the dirt and smell of the sheep. But it didn't come.
"I looked everywhere for you," complained Jack once he was sure he had his quartermaster's attention. "Thought you were with the pigs."
"Nah," said Gibbs, his face relaxing slowly, "they already had company."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did they."
***
Aboard the privateer frigate Cerberus at that aforementioned point in the imaginary past, maybe a bit later.
"Something evil is brooding," murmured Fredrickson from his barrel next to Norrington. "I sense it in my leg."
"Damn it, Fredrickson, your leg is gone," Gillette murmured, but not loudly enough for anyone to hear. They had had lots of discussions about Fredrickson’s oversensitive wooden leg already and there was no use in adding another one.
"Andrew, would you care to have a look?" Norrington said, handing the spyglass over to the ship’s master. "I have difficulty believing that it really is what it seems to be."
"Sir, are you not feeling well? Do you want me to fetch some cold compresses?" All of a sudden, Gillette appeared positively worried.
Norrington let out an exasperated sigh. "If you would just look through that telescope..."
"Or some herbal tea?"
"ANDREW!"
Gillette hurriedly took the telescope. "But of course, sir, thank you, sir."
"And Andrew?"
"Sir?"
"Stop fussing. We’re not in the Navy anymore and I’m not your lawful superior. And neither are you my mother. You’re Andrew and I’m James and we’re His Majesty’s privateers. There’s no need for exaggerated courtesy or pampering."
"But sir-"
"Please."
***
Somewhere in the Caribbean, not too far from the Cerberus, same time.
Jack Sparrow would almost have fallen out of the crow's nest of his beloved Pearl when he saw the two ships appear on the horizon. No, correction. There was one ship. He didn't quite know what the other thing was. Quickly, he climbed down the rope and, just to show that he knew how to make an entrance, he let himself drop heavily onto the quarterdeck in front of a rather confused Mr Gibbs.
"Mr Gibbs, we'll be heading east north-east, if you please."
Gibbs just stared at him.
Finally, Jack got up from the floor. "You're not taking orders from someone lying on the ground, are you?"
"No, Jack," Gibbs said. "Never have - except this one time--"
"Well, then," Jack interrupted his quartermaster before he could tell him the story of 'this one time'. "I repeat: Set a course east north-east, please, Mr Gibbs."
"You found something, Jack?"
The pirate nodded. "I do recognize it, but I don't know what it is."
Gibbs thought it best not to say anything to that.
***
Aboard the privateer frigate Cerberus (again), etc. - a bit later.
Norrington waited for Gillette to finally take a look on the horizon and report his opinion. He didn’t have to wait long.
"It’s a ship! It must be! But - it can’t be! I don’t remember it from the ship’s registers!" Gillette was almost hyperventilating. "Sir, we have to inform someone!"
Norrington sighed. "Andrew. What did we agree on just a minute ago?"
"But SIR!" Gillette was on the verge of utter desperation. "It might be an enemy ship! We will endanger-"
"Yes, Andrew, I know that!" Norrington said, rolling his eyes. "But as I said, we’re not the Navy. We can’t do anything about it. If we attack the ship and it proves to be English, we won’t only lose our Letter of Marque but also our heads. And we won’t reach Port Royal in less than three days. And speaking of which - who would you want to inform? We can’t talk to Governor Farthingdale. After all, it was he who insisted on poor Weatherby’s transfer back to England after the dreadful affair with the Black Pearl."
Gillette swallowed. "Yes, I see all that, sir - ah, James. Don’t look at me like that, please. I’m trying!" He cleared his throat. "The Admiralty has to be informed."
"You want us to sail back to Nassau?" James stared at him, incredulous. "You must be joking."
"No, but Captain Groves can do it!" he suggested, eagerly as ever. "The Dauntless must be ready to sail by now! They were almost finished repairing her when we left!"
"Captain Groves certainly has more important matters to investigate than a black spot on the horizon, Andrew. He won’t and can’t listen to us!"
"Yes, but he’ll listen to Mr Sparrow, sir!" And as soon as the words were out, Gillette clapped his hands on his mouth and stared on the floor, hoping Norrington hadn’t heard.
His hopes went unfulfilled.
Norrington flashed him a pitiful little smile. "My dear Andrew. The fact that we have a Letter of Marque doesn’t change anything about the fact that Mr. Sparrow doesn’t. Captain Groves cannot afford dalliances with pirates - unless they end in the pirate’s hanging, of course. Which is impossible in Mr. Sparrow’s case, as you might remember."
"Trust me, sir," Gillette insisted. "He will listen to him." And with that, he climbed belowdecks, leaving a quite bewildered captain behind.
***
Aboard the HMS Dauntless, same time.
"Sail ho!"
Captain Groves rushed out of his cabin, his eyes fixed on the crow's nest, where a rather nervous young midshipman flailed in the north-west direction.
"Which ship, Mr Grant?" he bellowed before he instructed his manservant to get a spyglass.
"Not a Navy ship, sir! Three masts. A - frigate! I think…" The midshipman trailed off. Grant was a very dedicated midshipman, even despite being the son of an Earl, and you could always depend on him to save you and everyone from grave danger and misery, but both his intellect and his quickness were lacking, so he could just as well be your death by setting the whole ship on fire or confusing a French or Spanish warship with the small jollyboat of a local fisherman.
Groves made a face. As usual, he thought it best to see for himself. He took the spyglass with a curt, "Thank you, Bellows," and climbed the rigging to get to the fighting top.
Unusually enough, Grant was right. It was a frigate. And when he recognized the colouring of the hull and the ornaments on the ship's stern, his face lit up.
***
The Dark Emperor's bedroom, some minutes earlier.
"Master, everything is ready."
The answer was a low mumble coming from somewhere under the mass of pink fluff.
"What was that, master?"
Finally, the pillows moved and the unmistakable face of the Emperor emerged. He opened his eyes and let out a drowsy yawn. "I said…" he mumbled in between yawns, but from one second to the other, he changed into his usual self, shouting, "HAVE YOU PREPARED MY MUESLI?" at a most baffled Vader, who almost thought the wind had blown off his helmet.
"No, master," Vader fidgeted, keeping his security distance from the Emperor's bed. "There was no time. Our ship is close to exploding, if you have forgotten," just like so often, he added in his mind and rolled his eyes.
Palpatine made a face - and if he didn't know better, Vader would have thought that the evil Emperor was pouting. "There is always time for my muesli," he growled. "See to it that it gets brought to me. With some blue milk, if you please." And without saying a further word, he turned around and cuddled back into his blankets and pillows.
***
Aboard the pirate ship Black Pearl, about fifteen minutes later.
"I still don't see why we shouldn't enter that bloody ship," Anamaria snarled. "Look how deep she's in the water."
Jack sighed for which was probably the fiftieth time within the last fifteen minutes. "I don't see why you can't shut your gob already, so I guess we both have to live with unsolved mysteries," he snarled back before he went belowdecks. Entering the ship was the silliest thing he could imagine at the moment. Well, apart from dancing a jig on the quarterdeck, wearing nothing but Norrington's left stocking. Or the right one.
And no, it was no coincidence that he thought about Norrington just then. His crew might not have done their homework, but the pirate captain had, and despite the fact that Norrington had obviously had the Cerberus repainted recently, she was still easy to recognize with her yellow and blue hull and her green stern. He wondered why anyone could want to sail such an eye-catching ship in the first place.
Anyway. This was not the time to ponder. There were things to do. So Jack grabbed a few things from his desk, picked up his hat from his bed and returned on deck.
***
Aboard the privateer frigate Cerberus, same time.
For a while, Norrington watched Jack shouting and flailing at him, but since the waves were too loud and swallowed every other sound and Jack's gestures usually didn't make any sense in the first place, he eventually thought it best to simply gesture Jack to hop into a jollyboat and row to the Cerberus. Fortunately, Gillette remained belowdecks for the whole time. Norrington didn't want to have to invent some white lie to keep him calm.
Not that Norrington stayed calm himself, of course. When the jollyboat had been heaved alongside the Cerberus' railing, the newly-appointed privateer immediately pulled the pirate out of it, dragged him into his cabin and pushed him against the wall.
"First of all," he hissed, holding Jack's wrists in a steady grip, "how come my first mate implies that there are some dalliances between you and Captain Groves and I don't know anything about them?"
Jack grinned, wriggling against Norrington in a quite shameless manner. "I like it when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
"Of course you are." Jack's grin went even wider. "But let me assure you that it was nothing. Some business in Port Royal - a favour for a favour, so to speak. Poor Theo missed you and Gillette so much and I thought I could help him out with that."
The words made Norrington smile. He had not seen Groves in a long time and it was just natural that - after all that had happened and all the things they had been through together - Groves would miss them, just like they missed him. "Very well," the privateer nodded and released the pirate. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure," Jack said and winked at Norrington, whose face started to show the hint of a grin.
"I bet it was," he said as he sat down and invited the pirate to sit down also. "But let us come to the point. I suppose you have seen this mysterious thing out there. Do you have any idea what it could be?"
Jack nodded. "Aye, I've seen it. It just appeared in front of my eyes about an hour ago. Out of nowhere, really. Gibbs thought I was mad."
Norrington flashed him a sarcastic smile. "And that is news how?"
Jack just glared at him, but it was no serious glare. It was rather obvious that he was trying very hard not to start laughing himself.
"Beg your pardon," Norrington said eventually, his grin betraying his words, "you were saying?"
"I was saying," Jack answered with a half-hearted pout on his lips, "that I saw that thing. Also, I recognized it."
"You recognized it? So you know what it is?"
Jack shrugged. "No. I just recognized it."
Norrington let out an exasperated sigh.
Jack hastily corrected himself. "I mean, I know I've seen it somewhere else. But I don't know where--" Suddenly, his face lit up. "I remember! Constantinople!"
"Constantinople."
"Aye! I saw that thing when I was in Constantinople!"
Norrington didn't even try to understand why Jack had been in Constantinople and what he had done there.
The pirate didn't notice the privateer's bafflement. He rambled on. "It was a very long time ago. I just got the Pearl and wanted to take a trip around the world. We had to stop in Constantinople because of some inconvenient business with eunuchs and turnip soup and a very bad case of scurvy, but I don't quite remember the details of that."
Norrington raised an eyebrow but kept silent.
"Anyway, there was this man with a rather ugly face and a dark grey coat, telling me he was a time traveller." Jack laughed. "I've heard many weird things in me life and probably told others a good many more, but never anything like that. But he was serious and he meant what he said, because when I laughed at him, he did something with his hand and nose and for a second, I totally forgot how to breathe! That has never happened to me before. And then he asked me if I knew where to find a little green man with long pointy ears and a cape around his shoulders."
The frown on the former commodore's face deepened.
"Well, by then I knew that he had looked a bit too far into the bottle and told him to speak to our good old Miss Zara, the owner of the bar. I don't know what happened to her, though. We set sail with the early morning tide."
"Very well," Norrington said when Jack had finished, but his face showed annoyance rather than gratitude. "And is this supposed to be relevant?"
"It's bloody relevant!" Jack exclaimed, a pout threatening to spread on his lips again.
"You seriously insist that you didn't just tell me a story and hope for it to make sense eventually?"
"By me mother's golden tooth, I swear I didn't!"
Norrington didn't look convinced. "Then how is the man in the grey coat connected to the unidentifiable black thing out there?"
"Oh…" Jack fidgeted.
"Well?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know." Norrington crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at the pirate with an expression of sarcastic pity on his face, but it was more banter than annoyance that spoke from the look in his eyes.
He was more than glad about Jack's presence, not just because he had not seen him in quite a long time, but also because Gillette now assumed him to be busy. His former first lieutenant was a good and dutiful man, but he had his occasional fits of paranoia, and at the moment, Norrington didn't want to be subjected to them.
Jack knew it. He also knew that most of the time, when he bantered with Norrington, he lost, but that was a fact he was quick to ignore or shrug off. Not this time, however. This time, he knew he was right, he just couldn't prove it.
Or could he?
***
Aboard the HMS Dauntless, a couple of minutes earlier but within the same watch.
"Captain Groves, HMS Dauntless," Groves shouted across the waves to the Cerberus, but he didn't get a response, just a strange look from the man standing opposite him.
Groves sighed. So much for Norrington's well-praised discipline. Or maybe he just hadn't heard him. "Where is your officer of the watch?" he shouted, a bit louder this time.
Still no response.
He tried to ask in French - after all, the Cerberus was a privateer vessel with a hired crew. "Où est votre-- erm, officer of the watch? Officier de la watch? Anyone?"
It showed no effect. Groves growled. He should have paid more attention at school. Or at least, his midshipmen should have, so that they could assist him right now instead of giving him innocent looks.
He was contemplating firing a shot to at least make the commanding officer rush on deck, when suddenly he spotted a red-haired head appear from belowdecks.
"Ahoy, there!" he shouted again, and finally, he got his response.
"Captain Groves, sir!" Gillette shouted back. "A good day to you! And my apologies for seaman Miller, unfortunately he's completely deaf! Do you wish to come over?"
Ah. That explained it. "Indeed I do," Groves shouted back. "Just wanted to give you a little warning before I launch the jollyboat!" He laughed. "I will be over shortly. Will you inform Captain Norrington?"
Groves didn't understand Gillette's answer this time, because a huge wave splashed against the hull of the Dauntless, but he didn't ask again. Instead, he turned around and ordered the young midshipman Grant to prepare a jollyboat, and his manservant Bellows to follow him and check if he did it right. One could never be too sure with him.
***
Port Royal, Jamaica, about half a minute earlier - but who cares.
Governor Farthingdale pushed the thick blankets aside and lazily stretched his limbs. He was hot. The weather was unlike anything he had experienced before. Dry air, hardly any wind, and this almost unbearable heat… But he would rather die of a heatstroke than allow the sun to bronze his skin, which was even more unbearable. Why ever had he allowed the Admiralty to transfer him here?
Yes, Governor Farthingdale was definitely not in a good mood. He had not slept for long, and he had not thought about anything but his new clothes for the whole time, either. Now, however, he had to cast the thought aside and turn to a more important one: his growling stomach. Wasn't it tea time already? He glanced at the expensive clock on the mantelpiece. One more hour until the cook would be back from her shopping. One more hour of waiting. He wasn't sure if he would survive that.
He rang the bell. About five minutes later, his manservant Charles entered the door. "Milord?"
"I wish to get up now."
"Of course, milord. What do you wish to wear?"
The question instantly reminded him of his other problem. "Groves is taking his time," he complained instead of an answer.
Charles politely ignored the complaint and walked to the wardrobe. After a few minutes, he produced a linen shirt, a white cravat, cream-coloured breeches, blue stockings, black shoes and a soft, blue waistcoat, Farthingdale's favourite.
It was not suitable for a social event, not in the least, but he could afford walking around in the gardens for a bit, now that his skin was mostly covered and protected from the evil sun rays.
"My sun umbrella, if you please, Charles," he ordered, adjusting his waistcoat. "I will go for a walk in the gardens."
"Yes, milord. Anything else, milord?"
"That will be all."
Charles was already at the door when Farthingdale called him back. "Oh, Charles?"
"Milord?"
"Bring me a scone and some tea. I have no intention to starve until tea is prepared."
"Yes, milord."
***
In the captain's cabin of the privateer frigate Cerberus, a tiny little bit later.
When Jack shouted, "I have it!" Norrington almost fell off his chair.
"Have what, exactly?" he asked, loosening his grip on the chair's seat.
Jack flailed. "I remember now! In Constantinople, that grey-coated, ugly-faced man arrived in the black thing out there!"
"Oh!"
"Aye! Oh!"
"So you say that it is sort of a means of transportation? A vessel?"
Jack nodded eagerly.
Norrington got up. "It is dangerous, undoubtedly," he mused, more to himself than to Jack. "Just as I thought. Well, I certainly don't want to risk the lives of my crewmates nor Captain Groves' nor anyone else's." He looked at the pirate. "Yes, not even yours, believe it or not."
Jack snickered. "I so don't believe that, but do go on." And with a quick movement, he escaped the swat that Norrington had intended for the back of the pirate's head.
The privateer cleared his throat and continued in a low voice. "I'd ignore the black vessel and carry on as before, but Gillette has strong objections to that. He is convinced that the Admiralty should be informed, and since Captain Groves is obviously en route to Nassau, he should carry the message and you should convince him to do so. Therefore, I suggest we collaborate. It won't do anyone any harm and we won't lose too much time."
"Oh, you're in a hurry, then?"
"Indeed we are." He winked at the pirate. "As you must have noticed, we are going a bit heavy."
Jack leered.
"Don't even think about it. Get your own. And yes, I know about the current state of your starboard guns."
"Bugger."
Norrington patted the pirate on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't spread the news. So, are we agreed?"
"All in all, we are," Jack said, grinning from one ear to the other as he continued, "but you know, there are some things I could have said better, of course…" And when Norrington got up, prepared to launch himself at the pirate, Jack had already rushed towards the door and opened it, just to bump into a lamp post.
***
On the quarterdeck of the privateer frigate Cerberus at exactly seven bells in the afternoon watch.
"Oh, hello, sailor!" Jack exclaimed when he noticed that the thing he had just bumped into hadn't been a lamp post but Captain Groves. "Long time no see!"
Groves smiled almost sheepishly. "Indeed, Captain Sparrow! But I can assure you, you have not changed a bit."
Jack leaned over. "Not superficially," he whispered and the accompanying leer made it quite clear to what he was referring.
Groves blushed a little, which was unusual enough for a sailor and even more unusual for this particular one, but Norrington didn't pay the fact any attention right now. Instead, he pondered how much Gillette had told his former Naval colleague about the unknown black vessel.
He got his answer straight away. "Pardon my interruption, sir," Gillette said, polite as always, "but may I remind you of this particular matter of utmost urgency?"
Norrington nodded, pretending to have completely forgotten. "Oh yes, thank you, Andrew! As you might have seen--"
Suddenly, Jack pushed past them and ran to the railing. Norrington stopped talking and turned around. What the hell…
"Look! Look!" the pirate yelled, flailing even more than usual. "Did you see that? There was a mermaid! A mermaid, I tell you!"
"A mermaid?" Quickly, Groves joined Jack and looked down, but naturally, he didn't see a thing.
Norrington smiled to himself and slowly followed the two. He knew he could count on the pirate when it mattered.
Gillette rolled his eyes as he was left behind. "Mermaids," he murmured under his breath before he raised his voice again. "Sir, I believe that there are more important things to concentrate on right now."
Norrington nodded and turned to Groves again, who finally tore his gaze from the water. "As I was saying, I believe that--"
"There it was again!" Jack interrupted him for the second time. "A mermaid with a green tail! No, come to think of it, it was a merman! Only mermen have green tails!"
Groves looked down again, but the result was the same. The water was calm, apart from the occasional wave that hit the hull of the ship. "I've never seen a merman," mused Groves, disappointment on his face.
"Oh, it's a pretty sight to be sure," Jack blurted out, "very pretty. With tails glittering in the sun, and lots of little shells and pearls in their hair - a bit like meself, but without the legs, of course…"
Gillette sighed. "Jack Sparrow, would you mind shutting your mouth now, or do I have to throw you in the brig first?"
Sparrow clapped his hands over his mouth. "Mission accomplished, mouth shut," he mumbled through his fingers.
Norrington almost couldn't hold his laughter back. The scene was indeed most comical - less because of Jack's ingenious way of getting Groves' attention again and again, and more because Gillette apparently took nothing so seriously as insubordination, and would have endured the pirate interrupting him another dozen times rather than start talking himself.
Eventually, he took pity on his first mate. "Andrew, why don't you fetch us a nice bottle of brandy - and a bottle of rum for the pirate?" He smiled. "I'm sure things are easier to discuss when our throats aren't so dry."
"Very good idea, sir!" Gillette nodded eagerly. "I will return shortly!" And with this, he rushed belowdecks.
When the trapdoor had closed above his first mate, Norrington grinned and gestured the two men into his cabin. "Do not worry," he said, trying not to sound too smug, "I took Captain Sparrow's most helpful advice and hid the rum."
***
Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, at the end of this fic.
Whilst Gillette was still browsing the hold for the requested liquor, the three men discussed matters in Norrington's cabin. Jack's story about the grey-coated man looking for the green man still didn't make any sense, but since Jack assured them that the unidentifiable vessel's crew was neither French nor Spanish, they all agreed that they should best not interfere in things that were not their business.
Especially since Groves had "most important business" himself. When he told Norrington and Jack about the mission Governor Farthingdale had sent him on, he earned pitiful looks from the privateer and a laughing fit from the pirate, who - unlike usually - had a proper plan to work everything out. The plan included an expensive-looking red coat with lots of brocade on it, a piece of ballast that he had sailed around the whole world after having stolen it from a Spanish vessel and not been able to sell it because nobody wanted it. The plan also included a strange little box that contained a small bottle with a brown liquid, which was taken from a voodoo lady's shop and, as Jack affirmed, a perfect gift for the Governor. It was an aphrodisiac whose effectiveness was only surpassed by the strength of its side-effect and was therefore only suitable for those whose skin was already tanned - a fact Groves decided, with a broad grin, he knew nothing about.
When everything had been discussed, Gillette returned with a bottle of brandy and - unsurprisingly - without the rum, but with a thousand apologies to make up for that.
However, after Norrington had fetched the rum and they had all emptied their first bottle, Gillette's mood improved, as did everyone else's.
They all spent the evening in Norrington's cabin and the night in Norrington's bunk, and the only one who didn't get sex that night was Palpatine, who fell asleep again after having eaten all the muesli that was on board and led Vader to seduce a minion. A particularly pretty one.
Author: txorakeriak
Fandoms: Pirates of the Caribbean meets Star Wars - or the other way around.
Disclaimer: Rodent/George Lucas (No, this is NOT a pairing!)
Pairings: Vader/Palpatine, Sparrington - and some implications
Rating: PG-13 for aforementioned implications
Word Count: 5,181
Summary: An unidentifyable flying object lands in the Caribbean. Confusion ensues.
A/N: Written for order_of_chaos, who gave me the following prompt: "Sparrington: Norrington-privateer, Sparrow-pirate, Gillette-privateer, Groves-navy, Evil=Vader+Emperor". I hope you’re happy, I wouldn’t have done this for anyone else - well, no one else could have come up with such a prompt in the first place, so… Well. For you, then. And the FiWriMo (as opposed to NaNo) of 2005 (*hides*).
Beta: porridgebird and burningliz *glomps* All remaining mistakes are my own and you may not steal them and use them in your fic. ;)
Warning: If you haven't guessed it yet - crack!crossover!fic.
***
Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, at some point in the imaginary past, probably around 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
"Master!" The deep, breathy voice of the Dark Lord reverberated through the Great Cabin of the black Imperial Star Destroyer as the tall man stood at the door, trying to get the Emperor awake. It was important. They could not afford any delay. And there was Palpatine, sleeping soundly, as if nothing was wrong. As if the ship wasn’t about to break into pieces. Vader wanted to growl, but only a cough came out. Damn those lungs. "MASTER!"
Palpatine yawned and slowly stretched. "Not now." And with this, he snuggled against his pink pillow and purred, obviously trying to fall asleep again.
"Master! It is important!" Vader was very tempted to find out if he could use the mind choke on a Sith Lord as well, but something inside him told him that it was better to decide against it. Another time. Not when they were about to be roasted alive.
Palpatine sighed. "You better have a good reason for disturbing my beauty sleep," he hissed. Angrily, he cast his pillows and blankets aside and stepped out of his comfortable bed, naked as he was born - if he was ever born at all, which was a bit hard to tell, really. He grabbed a red gown from the chair next to his bed and dressed. "Well? What is it?"
"Master, one of the engines is on fire," Vader reported. "We have to prepare an emergency landing."
"WHAT?" the Emperor roared. "Who is responsible for this?" In the blink of an eye, the exotic space plant on his nightstand transformed into a heap of ashes.
"Two minions," Vader obliged. "No worries, master, I already choked them."
Palpatine raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Well, then. Make the necessary preparations to land."
"On Earth?"
"Heck, why not? Do we have a choice?"
Vader hesitated. "Well - no. But we’re directly above the Atlantic Ocean. Is our ship ready to land on water?"
The Emperor let out an exasperated sigh. "We will see if she is, won’t we?" he said, slowly and menacingly. "Now get out, I need some more sleep."
Silently praising his dark mask, Vader rolled his eyes and left the cabin, cursing his lazy diva of an Emperor under deep breaths.
***
Somewhere else in the Caribbean Sea (but not too far), same time.
James Norrington, captain of the privateer frigate Cerberus, stood at his ship’s starboard railing and glanced at the horizon. The sun was at its zenith, keeping the air warm despite the strong wind from the north, and Norrington was glad to be on his way home again. Three more days until they would reach Port Royal. It was a good reason to be cheerful, not just for the ex-commodore, but also for his crew, who had been jolly and in good spirits the whole day so far. Not that they didn’t like their jobs, of course, but the ship was going heavy and some members of the crew, especially an old sailor with a wooden leg, Fredrickson by name, were already counting the minutes until she would sink.
Norrington didn’t care for superstition, but he had to admit that the booty they had accumulated from the four Spanish galleons they had attacked on their way from Nassau to Port Royal was considerable. Well, it had to be, for he was still paying his debts for having lost the Interceptor - he and Andrew Gillette, his former first lieutenant, who had insisted on sharing the blame with him, for whatever reasons. It would have been perfectly sufficient for the Admiralty to sacrifice him alone. Norrington sighed. Well, at least they had been able to save Theodore Groves, now a post captain in command of the Dauntless.
Norrington started. There was something on the horizon, a little black spot. He blinked - and the spot was gone.
"Glass!" he bellowed across the deck and a second later, Gillette was at his side, giving him his telescope.
***
Port Royal, Jamaica, exactly three days earlier.
Governor Farthingdale was not amused. There was a society ball coming up and he feared he had to attend it in the nude because he simply had nothing to wear. True, his wardrobe nearly burst, but that didn't necessarily mean that there were suitable clothes in it.
A solution to the problem was found quickly: The newly promoted Captain Groves would be sent on an errand to make up for the generosity he, Hubert Farthingdale, had granted him during that dreadful affair of tropical fever - which was his explanation for the Navy suddenly seeing skeletal pirates.
Theodore Groves wasn't pleased with the errand he was sent on, especially because it was by no means appropriate to his rank, but he really had no choice. Indeed, he was indebted to Governor Farthingdale, but his gratitude had limits. It was difficult to be grateful when he could not share his luck with the only two friends he had in the world.
***
Tortuga, a week and two hours earlier.
There was nothing in the world Mr Gibbs hated more than being woken up from his well-deserved sleep. Scowling at the man who could only be Jack Sparrow, he got up from the floor and braced himself for the shower to rid himself of the dirt and smell of the sheep. But it didn't come.
"I looked everywhere for you," complained Jack once he was sure he had his quartermaster's attention. "Thought you were with the pigs."
"Nah," said Gibbs, his face relaxing slowly, "they already had company."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did they."
***
Aboard the privateer frigate Cerberus at that aforementioned point in the imaginary past, maybe a bit later.
"Something evil is brooding," murmured Fredrickson from his barrel next to Norrington. "I sense it in my leg."
"Damn it, Fredrickson, your leg is gone," Gillette murmured, but not loudly enough for anyone to hear. They had had lots of discussions about Fredrickson’s oversensitive wooden leg already and there was no use in adding another one.
"Andrew, would you care to have a look?" Norrington said, handing the spyglass over to the ship’s master. "I have difficulty believing that it really is what it seems to be."
"Sir, are you not feeling well? Do you want me to fetch some cold compresses?" All of a sudden, Gillette appeared positively worried.
Norrington let out an exasperated sigh. "If you would just look through that telescope..."
"Or some herbal tea?"
"ANDREW!"
Gillette hurriedly took the telescope. "But of course, sir, thank you, sir."
"And Andrew?"
"Sir?"
"Stop fussing. We’re not in the Navy anymore and I’m not your lawful superior. And neither are you my mother. You’re Andrew and I’m James and we’re His Majesty’s privateers. There’s no need for exaggerated courtesy or pampering."
"But sir-"
"Please."
***
Somewhere in the Caribbean, not too far from the Cerberus, same time.
Jack Sparrow would almost have fallen out of the crow's nest of his beloved Pearl when he saw the two ships appear on the horizon. No, correction. There was one ship. He didn't quite know what the other thing was. Quickly, he climbed down the rope and, just to show that he knew how to make an entrance, he let himself drop heavily onto the quarterdeck in front of a rather confused Mr Gibbs.
"Mr Gibbs, we'll be heading east north-east, if you please."
Gibbs just stared at him.
Finally, Jack got up from the floor. "You're not taking orders from someone lying on the ground, are you?"
"No, Jack," Gibbs said. "Never have - except this one time--"
"Well, then," Jack interrupted his quartermaster before he could tell him the story of 'this one time'. "I repeat: Set a course east north-east, please, Mr Gibbs."
"You found something, Jack?"
The pirate nodded. "I do recognize it, but I don't know what it is."
Gibbs thought it best not to say anything to that.
***
Aboard the privateer frigate Cerberus (again), etc. - a bit later.
Norrington waited for Gillette to finally take a look on the horizon and report his opinion. He didn’t have to wait long.
"It’s a ship! It must be! But - it can’t be! I don’t remember it from the ship’s registers!" Gillette was almost hyperventilating. "Sir, we have to inform someone!"
Norrington sighed. "Andrew. What did we agree on just a minute ago?"
"But SIR!" Gillette was on the verge of utter desperation. "It might be an enemy ship! We will endanger-"
"Yes, Andrew, I know that!" Norrington said, rolling his eyes. "But as I said, we’re not the Navy. We can’t do anything about it. If we attack the ship and it proves to be English, we won’t only lose our Letter of Marque but also our heads. And we won’t reach Port Royal in less than three days. And speaking of which - who would you want to inform? We can’t talk to Governor Farthingdale. After all, it was he who insisted on poor Weatherby’s transfer back to England after the dreadful affair with the Black Pearl."
Gillette swallowed. "Yes, I see all that, sir - ah, James. Don’t look at me like that, please. I’m trying!" He cleared his throat. "The Admiralty has to be informed."
"You want us to sail back to Nassau?" James stared at him, incredulous. "You must be joking."
"No, but Captain Groves can do it!" he suggested, eagerly as ever. "The Dauntless must be ready to sail by now! They were almost finished repairing her when we left!"
"Captain Groves certainly has more important matters to investigate than a black spot on the horizon, Andrew. He won’t and can’t listen to us!"
"Yes, but he’ll listen to Mr Sparrow, sir!" And as soon as the words were out, Gillette clapped his hands on his mouth and stared on the floor, hoping Norrington hadn’t heard.
His hopes went unfulfilled.
Norrington flashed him a pitiful little smile. "My dear Andrew. The fact that we have a Letter of Marque doesn’t change anything about the fact that Mr. Sparrow doesn’t. Captain Groves cannot afford dalliances with pirates - unless they end in the pirate’s hanging, of course. Which is impossible in Mr. Sparrow’s case, as you might remember."
"Trust me, sir," Gillette insisted. "He will listen to him." And with that, he climbed belowdecks, leaving a quite bewildered captain behind.
***
Aboard the HMS Dauntless, same time.
"Sail ho!"
Captain Groves rushed out of his cabin, his eyes fixed on the crow's nest, where a rather nervous young midshipman flailed in the north-west direction.
"Which ship, Mr Grant?" he bellowed before he instructed his manservant to get a spyglass.
"Not a Navy ship, sir! Three masts. A - frigate! I think…" The midshipman trailed off. Grant was a very dedicated midshipman, even despite being the son of an Earl, and you could always depend on him to save you and everyone from grave danger and misery, but both his intellect and his quickness were lacking, so he could just as well be your death by setting the whole ship on fire or confusing a French or Spanish warship with the small jollyboat of a local fisherman.
Groves made a face. As usual, he thought it best to see for himself. He took the spyglass with a curt, "Thank you, Bellows," and climbed the rigging to get to the fighting top.
Unusually enough, Grant was right. It was a frigate. And when he recognized the colouring of the hull and the ornaments on the ship's stern, his face lit up.
***
The Dark Emperor's bedroom, some minutes earlier.
"Master, everything is ready."
The answer was a low mumble coming from somewhere under the mass of pink fluff.
"What was that, master?"
Finally, the pillows moved and the unmistakable face of the Emperor emerged. He opened his eyes and let out a drowsy yawn. "I said…" he mumbled in between yawns, but from one second to the other, he changed into his usual self, shouting, "HAVE YOU PREPARED MY MUESLI?" at a most baffled Vader, who almost thought the wind had blown off his helmet.
"No, master," Vader fidgeted, keeping his security distance from the Emperor's bed. "There was no time. Our ship is close to exploding, if you have forgotten," just like so often, he added in his mind and rolled his eyes.
Palpatine made a face - and if he didn't know better, Vader would have thought that the evil Emperor was pouting. "There is always time for my muesli," he growled. "See to it that it gets brought to me. With some blue milk, if you please." And without saying a further word, he turned around and cuddled back into his blankets and pillows.
***
Aboard the pirate ship Black Pearl, about fifteen minutes later.
"I still don't see why we shouldn't enter that bloody ship," Anamaria snarled. "Look how deep she's in the water."
Jack sighed for which was probably the fiftieth time within the last fifteen minutes. "I don't see why you can't shut your gob already, so I guess we both have to live with unsolved mysteries," he snarled back before he went belowdecks. Entering the ship was the silliest thing he could imagine at the moment. Well, apart from dancing a jig on the quarterdeck, wearing nothing but Norrington's left stocking. Or the right one.
And no, it was no coincidence that he thought about Norrington just then. His crew might not have done their homework, but the pirate captain had, and despite the fact that Norrington had obviously had the Cerberus repainted recently, she was still easy to recognize with her yellow and blue hull and her green stern. He wondered why anyone could want to sail such an eye-catching ship in the first place.
Anyway. This was not the time to ponder. There were things to do. So Jack grabbed a few things from his desk, picked up his hat from his bed and returned on deck.
***
Aboard the privateer frigate Cerberus, same time.
For a while, Norrington watched Jack shouting and flailing at him, but since the waves were too loud and swallowed every other sound and Jack's gestures usually didn't make any sense in the first place, he eventually thought it best to simply gesture Jack to hop into a jollyboat and row to the Cerberus. Fortunately, Gillette remained belowdecks for the whole time. Norrington didn't want to have to invent some white lie to keep him calm.
Not that Norrington stayed calm himself, of course. When the jollyboat had been heaved alongside the Cerberus' railing, the newly-appointed privateer immediately pulled the pirate out of it, dragged him into his cabin and pushed him against the wall.
"First of all," he hissed, holding Jack's wrists in a steady grip, "how come my first mate implies that there are some dalliances between you and Captain Groves and I don't know anything about them?"
Jack grinned, wriggling against Norrington in a quite shameless manner. "I like it when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
"Of course you are." Jack's grin went even wider. "But let me assure you that it was nothing. Some business in Port Royal - a favour for a favour, so to speak. Poor Theo missed you and Gillette so much and I thought I could help him out with that."
The words made Norrington smile. He had not seen Groves in a long time and it was just natural that - after all that had happened and all the things they had been through together - Groves would miss them, just like they missed him. "Very well," the privateer nodded and released the pirate. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure," Jack said and winked at Norrington, whose face started to show the hint of a grin.
"I bet it was," he said as he sat down and invited the pirate to sit down also. "But let us come to the point. I suppose you have seen this mysterious thing out there. Do you have any idea what it could be?"
Jack nodded. "Aye, I've seen it. It just appeared in front of my eyes about an hour ago. Out of nowhere, really. Gibbs thought I was mad."
Norrington flashed him a sarcastic smile. "And that is news how?"
Jack just glared at him, but it was no serious glare. It was rather obvious that he was trying very hard not to start laughing himself.
"Beg your pardon," Norrington said eventually, his grin betraying his words, "you were saying?"
"I was saying," Jack answered with a half-hearted pout on his lips, "that I saw that thing. Also, I recognized it."
"You recognized it? So you know what it is?"
Jack shrugged. "No. I just recognized it."
Norrington let out an exasperated sigh.
Jack hastily corrected himself. "I mean, I know I've seen it somewhere else. But I don't know where--" Suddenly, his face lit up. "I remember! Constantinople!"
"Constantinople."
"Aye! I saw that thing when I was in Constantinople!"
Norrington didn't even try to understand why Jack had been in Constantinople and what he had done there.
The pirate didn't notice the privateer's bafflement. He rambled on. "It was a very long time ago. I just got the Pearl and wanted to take a trip around the world. We had to stop in Constantinople because of some inconvenient business with eunuchs and turnip soup and a very bad case of scurvy, but I don't quite remember the details of that."
Norrington raised an eyebrow but kept silent.
"Anyway, there was this man with a rather ugly face and a dark grey coat, telling me he was a time traveller." Jack laughed. "I've heard many weird things in me life and probably told others a good many more, but never anything like that. But he was serious and he meant what he said, because when I laughed at him, he did something with his hand and nose and for a second, I totally forgot how to breathe! That has never happened to me before. And then he asked me if I knew where to find a little green man with long pointy ears and a cape around his shoulders."
The frown on the former commodore's face deepened.
"Well, by then I knew that he had looked a bit too far into the bottle and told him to speak to our good old Miss Zara, the owner of the bar. I don't know what happened to her, though. We set sail with the early morning tide."
"Very well," Norrington said when Jack had finished, but his face showed annoyance rather than gratitude. "And is this supposed to be relevant?"
"It's bloody relevant!" Jack exclaimed, a pout threatening to spread on his lips again.
"You seriously insist that you didn't just tell me a story and hope for it to make sense eventually?"
"By me mother's golden tooth, I swear I didn't!"
Norrington didn't look convinced. "Then how is the man in the grey coat connected to the unidentifiable black thing out there?"
"Oh…" Jack fidgeted.
"Well?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know." Norrington crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at the pirate with an expression of sarcastic pity on his face, but it was more banter than annoyance that spoke from the look in his eyes.
He was more than glad about Jack's presence, not just because he had not seen him in quite a long time, but also because Gillette now assumed him to be busy. His former first lieutenant was a good and dutiful man, but he had his occasional fits of paranoia, and at the moment, Norrington didn't want to be subjected to them.
Jack knew it. He also knew that most of the time, when he bantered with Norrington, he lost, but that was a fact he was quick to ignore or shrug off. Not this time, however. This time, he knew he was right, he just couldn't prove it.
Or could he?
***
Aboard the HMS Dauntless, a couple of minutes earlier but within the same watch.
"Captain Groves, HMS Dauntless," Groves shouted across the waves to the Cerberus, but he didn't get a response, just a strange look from the man standing opposite him.
Groves sighed. So much for Norrington's well-praised discipline. Or maybe he just hadn't heard him. "Where is your officer of the watch?" he shouted, a bit louder this time.
Still no response.
He tried to ask in French - after all, the Cerberus was a privateer vessel with a hired crew. "Où est votre-- erm, officer of the watch? Officier de la watch? Anyone?"
It showed no effect. Groves growled. He should have paid more attention at school. Or at least, his midshipmen should have, so that they could assist him right now instead of giving him innocent looks.
He was contemplating firing a shot to at least make the commanding officer rush on deck, when suddenly he spotted a red-haired head appear from belowdecks.
"Ahoy, there!" he shouted again, and finally, he got his response.
"Captain Groves, sir!" Gillette shouted back. "A good day to you! And my apologies for seaman Miller, unfortunately he's completely deaf! Do you wish to come over?"
Ah. That explained it. "Indeed I do," Groves shouted back. "Just wanted to give you a little warning before I launch the jollyboat!" He laughed. "I will be over shortly. Will you inform Captain Norrington?"
Groves didn't understand Gillette's answer this time, because a huge wave splashed against the hull of the Dauntless, but he didn't ask again. Instead, he turned around and ordered the young midshipman Grant to prepare a jollyboat, and his manservant Bellows to follow him and check if he did it right. One could never be too sure with him.
***
Port Royal, Jamaica, about half a minute earlier - but who cares.
Governor Farthingdale pushed the thick blankets aside and lazily stretched his limbs. He was hot. The weather was unlike anything he had experienced before. Dry air, hardly any wind, and this almost unbearable heat… But he would rather die of a heatstroke than allow the sun to bronze his skin, which was even more unbearable. Why ever had he allowed the Admiralty to transfer him here?
Yes, Governor Farthingdale was definitely not in a good mood. He had not slept for long, and he had not thought about anything but his new clothes for the whole time, either. Now, however, he had to cast the thought aside and turn to a more important one: his growling stomach. Wasn't it tea time already? He glanced at the expensive clock on the mantelpiece. One more hour until the cook would be back from her shopping. One more hour of waiting. He wasn't sure if he would survive that.
He rang the bell. About five minutes later, his manservant Charles entered the door. "Milord?"
"I wish to get up now."
"Of course, milord. What do you wish to wear?"
The question instantly reminded him of his other problem. "Groves is taking his time," he complained instead of an answer.
Charles politely ignored the complaint and walked to the wardrobe. After a few minutes, he produced a linen shirt, a white cravat, cream-coloured breeches, blue stockings, black shoes and a soft, blue waistcoat, Farthingdale's favourite.
It was not suitable for a social event, not in the least, but he could afford walking around in the gardens for a bit, now that his skin was mostly covered and protected from the evil sun rays.
"My sun umbrella, if you please, Charles," he ordered, adjusting his waistcoat. "I will go for a walk in the gardens."
"Yes, milord. Anything else, milord?"
"That will be all."
Charles was already at the door when Farthingdale called him back. "Oh, Charles?"
"Milord?"
"Bring me a scone and some tea. I have no intention to starve until tea is prepared."
"Yes, milord."
***
In the captain's cabin of the privateer frigate Cerberus, a tiny little bit later.
When Jack shouted, "I have it!" Norrington almost fell off his chair.
"Have what, exactly?" he asked, loosening his grip on the chair's seat.
Jack flailed. "I remember now! In Constantinople, that grey-coated, ugly-faced man arrived in the black thing out there!"
"Oh!"
"Aye! Oh!"
"So you say that it is sort of a means of transportation? A vessel?"
Jack nodded eagerly.
Norrington got up. "It is dangerous, undoubtedly," he mused, more to himself than to Jack. "Just as I thought. Well, I certainly don't want to risk the lives of my crewmates nor Captain Groves' nor anyone else's." He looked at the pirate. "Yes, not even yours, believe it or not."
Jack snickered. "I so don't believe that, but do go on." And with a quick movement, he escaped the swat that Norrington had intended for the back of the pirate's head.
The privateer cleared his throat and continued in a low voice. "I'd ignore the black vessel and carry on as before, but Gillette has strong objections to that. He is convinced that the Admiralty should be informed, and since Captain Groves is obviously en route to Nassau, he should carry the message and you should convince him to do so. Therefore, I suggest we collaborate. It won't do anyone any harm and we won't lose too much time."
"Oh, you're in a hurry, then?"
"Indeed we are." He winked at the pirate. "As you must have noticed, we are going a bit heavy."
Jack leered.
"Don't even think about it. Get your own. And yes, I know about the current state of your starboard guns."
"Bugger."
Norrington patted the pirate on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't spread the news. So, are we agreed?"
"All in all, we are," Jack said, grinning from one ear to the other as he continued, "but you know, there are some things I could have said better, of course…" And when Norrington got up, prepared to launch himself at the pirate, Jack had already rushed towards the door and opened it, just to bump into a lamp post.
***
On the quarterdeck of the privateer frigate Cerberus at exactly seven bells in the afternoon watch.
"Oh, hello, sailor!" Jack exclaimed when he noticed that the thing he had just bumped into hadn't been a lamp post but Captain Groves. "Long time no see!"
Groves smiled almost sheepishly. "Indeed, Captain Sparrow! But I can assure you, you have not changed a bit."
Jack leaned over. "Not superficially," he whispered and the accompanying leer made it quite clear to what he was referring.
Groves blushed a little, which was unusual enough for a sailor and even more unusual for this particular one, but Norrington didn't pay the fact any attention right now. Instead, he pondered how much Gillette had told his former Naval colleague about the unknown black vessel.
He got his answer straight away. "Pardon my interruption, sir," Gillette said, polite as always, "but may I remind you of this particular matter of utmost urgency?"
Norrington nodded, pretending to have completely forgotten. "Oh yes, thank you, Andrew! As you might have seen--"
Suddenly, Jack pushed past them and ran to the railing. Norrington stopped talking and turned around. What the hell…
"Look! Look!" the pirate yelled, flailing even more than usual. "Did you see that? There was a mermaid! A mermaid, I tell you!"
"A mermaid?" Quickly, Groves joined Jack and looked down, but naturally, he didn't see a thing.
Norrington smiled to himself and slowly followed the two. He knew he could count on the pirate when it mattered.
Gillette rolled his eyes as he was left behind. "Mermaids," he murmured under his breath before he raised his voice again. "Sir, I believe that there are more important things to concentrate on right now."
Norrington nodded and turned to Groves again, who finally tore his gaze from the water. "As I was saying, I believe that--"
"There it was again!" Jack interrupted him for the second time. "A mermaid with a green tail! No, come to think of it, it was a merman! Only mermen have green tails!"
Groves looked down again, but the result was the same. The water was calm, apart from the occasional wave that hit the hull of the ship. "I've never seen a merman," mused Groves, disappointment on his face.
"Oh, it's a pretty sight to be sure," Jack blurted out, "very pretty. With tails glittering in the sun, and lots of little shells and pearls in their hair - a bit like meself, but without the legs, of course…"
Gillette sighed. "Jack Sparrow, would you mind shutting your mouth now, or do I have to throw you in the brig first?"
Sparrow clapped his hands over his mouth. "Mission accomplished, mouth shut," he mumbled through his fingers.
Norrington almost couldn't hold his laughter back. The scene was indeed most comical - less because of Jack's ingenious way of getting Groves' attention again and again, and more because Gillette apparently took nothing so seriously as insubordination, and would have endured the pirate interrupting him another dozen times rather than start talking himself.
Eventually, he took pity on his first mate. "Andrew, why don't you fetch us a nice bottle of brandy - and a bottle of rum for the pirate?" He smiled. "I'm sure things are easier to discuss when our throats aren't so dry."
"Very good idea, sir!" Gillette nodded eagerly. "I will return shortly!" And with this, he rushed belowdecks.
When the trapdoor had closed above his first mate, Norrington grinned and gestured the two men into his cabin. "Do not worry," he said, trying not to sound too smug, "I took Captain Sparrow's most helpful advice and hid the rum."
***
Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, at the end of this fic.
Whilst Gillette was still browsing the hold for the requested liquor, the three men discussed matters in Norrington's cabin. Jack's story about the grey-coated man looking for the green man still didn't make any sense, but since Jack assured them that the unidentifiable vessel's crew was neither French nor Spanish, they all agreed that they should best not interfere in things that were not their business.
Especially since Groves had "most important business" himself. When he told Norrington and Jack about the mission Governor Farthingdale had sent him on, he earned pitiful looks from the privateer and a laughing fit from the pirate, who - unlike usually - had a proper plan to work everything out. The plan included an expensive-looking red coat with lots of brocade on it, a piece of ballast that he had sailed around the whole world after having stolen it from a Spanish vessel and not been able to sell it because nobody wanted it. The plan also included a strange little box that contained a small bottle with a brown liquid, which was taken from a voodoo lady's shop and, as Jack affirmed, a perfect gift for the Governor. It was an aphrodisiac whose effectiveness was only surpassed by the strength of its side-effect and was therefore only suitable for those whose skin was already tanned - a fact Groves decided, with a broad grin, he knew nothing about.
When everything had been discussed, Gillette returned with a bottle of brandy and - unsurprisingly - without the rum, but with a thousand apologies to make up for that.
However, after Norrington had fetched the rum and they had all emptied their first bottle, Gillette's mood improved, as did everyone else's.
They all spent the evening in Norrington's cabin and the night in Norrington's bunk, and the only one who didn't get sex that night was Palpatine, who fell asleep again after having eaten all the muesli that was on board and led Vader to seduce a minion. A particularly pretty one.