A good advise
Jack Sparrow was sitting in his cabin on The Black Pearl. By wavering candlelight he was looking on at a map lying unfolded on the table. At least, after so long time, they were again sailing with a heading. It seemed to him that giving Elizabeth the compass was a right decision.
Everything is on a good way, Jack thought, still staring at the map.
He reached for a bottle, standing on the table.
It would be even better if I had some rum, he concluded. He turned the bottle upside down and even shook it, just to be sure. It was empty and dry as desert sand.
Jack sighed and put the bottle back down. He folded the map carefully. He should go to sleep but he couldn't help thinking about one thing – the rum. He had to find at least one, small drop. Well, maybe two.
He left his cabin in search of a bottle of rum. He would even go onto the lowest deck, despite the fact he had been avoiding it since he had met old Bootstrap Bill there, sent as an emissary of Davy Jones'.
The night was calm. Light wind was filling the sails of The Black Pearl. Jack took a look around the deck. It was empty if one didn't count several men standing on watch. After a while he noticed one more person. Somebody was sitting alone on the stairs leading to the poop deck.
Sparrow approached the unindetified person with the slightest bit of hope.
"Do you happen to have any rum, my friend?"
The pirate's face was partially hidden in the shadow, so Sparrow didn't even know who was he talking to. Besides, he had so many new crewmates he didn't even know himself whom exactly had he hired.
"I do," the unknown person answered. Using the voice of James Norrington.
Jack shuddered. For a while he had forgotten that the former commodore had joined his crew as well.
"It's not as if you'd like to share?" he said, resigned.
Norrington shot him a sideways look, as if he was considering something. Then he handed him the bottle without a single word.
Jack grabbed it enthusiastically, but hesitated before raising it to his mouth.
"You haven't spat in it, have you?" he asked just to be sure.
Norrington sighed and raised his eyes up.
That would mean "no", Sparrow decided. Self-content, he took a drink and sat next to Norrington, not interested in the former commodore's opinion about such kind of company. For a moment there was calmness on the deck. Jack was enjoying his drink and Norrington was just staring into the distance.
Suddenly the former commodore broke up the silence.
"If you fell over board...", he said, his voice ominous.
"Oh, I don't care", said Jack flippantly. "I can swim quite well."
"...with a cannonball chained to your legs..."
"Then we're lucky we actually don't have any of those on the deck. Too expensive, them." Jack explained, raising the bottle to check how much rum was left.
"...and with a bullet in your heart." Norrington continued. "Would I be sure that I got rid of you and even your unbelievable luck couldn't have helped?" He glanced at Jack very balefully.
Suddenly, Sparrow felt rather anxious.
"Remember me something, mate" Jack said, enlarging the distance between them. "Had I taken you pistol from before I let you get on The Pearl's board?" he asked, trying not to sound too worried.
"Indeed", said Norrington reluctantly, reaching for the bottle. Sparrow didn't protest. He had already drunk the most of its content.
"Okay then." Jack breathed with discreet relief.
Silence fell upon the deck again. Only the rigging was creaking silently under blowing wind.
"Is there any problem between us?", asked Sparrow.
"How did you come to this?", said Norrington gloomily.
"I'll give you an a piece of advice, just between us, pirates." Sparrow said, laying his hand on Norrington's shoulder in a familiar gesture.
"I am not a pirate", said the former commodore icily, shaking Jack's hand off as if it had been a venomous spider.
"Ah, that's what they always say", said Jack, smiling widely. "Life's complicated, you know? But I don't have any a slightest idea why are you accusing me of everything that had happened to you."
Norrington didn't answer.
"For example, did I sink your ship?"
Norrington shot him such glance that Jack decided to change topic.
"Have I ever told you how I ended up here in the first place?"
Sparrow was babbling about something in his usual style. James could hardly hear him. His face set, he was staring in the distance, thinking again about his faults which had lead him on the bottom. He had lost everything that was of any worth to him in his orderly life. Could there be anything worse? If one would actually examine his situation... He found himself on the deck of The Black Pearl, the very ship he had been chasing for such a long time in vain. He was accompanied by a band of pirates, under the command of the very man who had ruined his life. And now he was sitting with him, drinking rum.
Really, the irony of life.
"... and they made me their captain, although I was only a cartographer. Then..."
"I already said I wasn't interested in your life's story," Norrington interrupted him.
Sparrow shot him a resentful look.
"But you'll miss the best part, mate."
James hoped that Sparrow will finally shut up.
In vain.
"But... Now let's take you as an example. You had been a commodore once and now you are a…"
"Well, who am I?", growled Norrington, finally losing his self-control. He rose and put his hand on his sword-handle.
At the first moment, Sparrow felt a bit frightened. Even the pirates on watch on the poop deck looked in their direction, alarmed.
Sparrow didn't think about the answer too long.
"A pirate", he finished, grinning, his gold teeth glimmering in darkness.
Norrington seemed to have lost all his strength.
"It's enough to listen you a bit, Sparrow, and a man will soon want to finish himself off", he said, bitterly, and went off in the direction of the prow.
"Would you be so nice to wait with suicide 'till we reach land, would you?", Sparrow shouted after him.
He wasn't too worried. First of all, Norrington started thinking about killing himself rather than Jack.
And secondly, he left him a bottle of rum.