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[captjacksparrow]

The storm is finally fading out into the horizon -- the dark clouds and fat, round drops of rain soon to pass behind them as Jack makes his Pearl fly over the waves. The wind is good for that. She can get up to her full speed quickly and stay there without keeping too many men on the sails. Hispanola is still possibly a two day's journey away, if

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[commodore_jln]

James looks up sharply as the door to the cabin eases open. Sparrow's been gone now for hours, or what feels like hours at any rate, and he has grown twitchy and restless. He was angry at first, when he realised that the pirate was not coming back, and even more so when he tried to get out and found the door locked. He must have spent a good twenty minutes fruitlessly trying to spring the lock, but after that he had collapsed onto a chair (he wasn't returning to the bed, at least not yet) and picked up the little book of Italian. There being no-one else in the room, he'd read it aloud to himself, finding it much easier to understand that way, but had stopped with a start when he realised that he had moved on from what he had taken to be a sort of satirical short story to what seemed to be poetry of a rather intimate nature. He'd flushed and put the book down, thinking of his earlier comparison of Jack Sparrow to the book. It was growing more accurate by the minute

[captjacksparrow]

That Norrington isn't scowling at him or stuttering apologies at him is a good sign. Comforting sign. Not at all awkward sign. Jack inclines his head in leui of a bow as he enters the cabin and kicks the door shut behind him.

"Didn't seem so to mind my being distracted as it were earlier." He bites off the urge to amend, until you were. Quirks up the side of his mouth at Norrington to try to keep the mood light

[commodore_jln]

James widens his eyes artfully at Sparrow's comment about being distracted earlier. Only one thing that could mean, but James is distinctly unwilling to encroach into that territory; the lust is still simmering under his skin, just enough so that he is uncomfortably aware of it, and he will not risk rousing it again.

But then he slides easily back into vaguely teasing banter, and James follows him with relief.

'A hard question to answer, Captain Sparrow, as I was not looking for anything in particular. Merely familiarising myself with the cabin, if you like. First mate, you know.' He gives a slight, slanted smile at that, 'Passing the time as well, which, as I'm sure you know, passes exponentially slower when one is locked up.'

He picks up the book and hefts it in Sparrow's direction with a wry smile. 'As for my reading... there's some interesting poetry in this book of yours, I must say. Though I confess my attention currently rather fixed to the idea of dinner. Most kind of you to provide.'

[captjacksparrow]

Jack flinches unnecessarily at Norrington saying that as first mate he should know the cabin well. Can only think of Barbossa and how he slept in here for years while Jack chases him down. How he swore after the mutiny never to be having a first mate again but here he is. With the Scourge of Piracy serving in that very role. At least in name only.

He still doesn't know whether to trust Norrington out on deck yet. First he has to make sure the Commodore wouldn't be plotting any escape plans.

"Aye, food," Jack repeats, happily ignoring Norrington's implication of being locked up. He can't really help that right now. "Can't go having 'starving a Commodore' on my record can I?" He offers a smile and sits down at the table.

Picking up a piece of hardtack and dipping it into the stew to soften it, Jack continues. "Book's from Italy. You know those Italians. Loving sort, as it were."

[pemcyt]

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