#jessicathomas

However, he was not ready to relinquish his son yet. “Whatever you have to say, I am sure my presence won’t be a hindrance.”

Jessica’s eyebrow quirked. “I beg to differ, Admiral.” She finally regarded him with a gimlet stare. “Unless you would like to witness me making up with my husband, and let me be clear, I’ve had a great deal of wine tonight and judging by the amount of scotch left in that decanter my husband is sufficiently looser than usual so there’s likely to be some rather furious disrobing and broken crockery.” She waved a hand as Lawrence nearly turned purple. “But be my guest.”

She suddenly shrugged out of Norrington’s jacket and walked past Nicollette and Gillette toward the exit. She shoved the garment in her husband’s hands without hesitation. “I need to speak with my sister…excuse me…” 

Gillette opened his mouth to speak, but Nicollette nudged him and shook her head frantically, making a “cease” gesture around her jugular with her free hand as if to say, Don’t do it, Gillette—it’s a trick! 

The Commodore looked down at the garment in his possession, then up to the thin cloth barely covering his wife’s body. 

“Jessica?” 

She fought a groan and turned. “Damn it all, Commodore. I’ll be careful, you have my word.” 

He quirked an eyebrow as he crossed the room in slow, purposeful strides. “I do believe at this very instant you are extremely scantily clad, and I would prefer it greatly if you donned my coat while among the general public, or I will not be responsible for my actions if a besotted young gentleman attempts to approach you and I have to cause him considerable harm.” 

Nicollette eyed Gillette behind Norrington’s back as if to say, Told you.

“Darling… James…” Norrington executed a particularly strong lunge and she had to push him back with considerable force. “Commodore!” His sizzling green eyes dropped to hers. “Calm yourself. We should at least hear what Jack has to say.” 

“Oh,” Norrington began, voice filled with indignation, “so it’s Jack all of sudden?” 

Jessica’s eyes flashed at the implication. “James Lawrence Norrington, I’m gonna slap you in a minute—” 

“Please do—or here’s an idea: Jack over there could fight on your behalf! Hold a moment, you may want to rethink that option, he may flee.” 

As Jack recognized the killing impulse in his comrade’s eyes, and he felt a bit of guilt setting the two against one another, albeit unknowingly, he cleared his throat. The quarreling couple rounded on him. 

“What?” they boomed in unison. 

Jack made a face then mustered up a smile in the face of such…intense adversity. “I was jus’ gonna say how much it warms me heart to see you two together.”

As Lawrence walked away, James’s eyes bored into his back.  

“Darling?” Jessica inquired. 

“Yes dear,” James responded in a monotone. 

She turned serene, mock-innocent eyes upon him. “Would it be at all acceptable if I stuffed him in a small cramped space without a stitch of clothing? Preferably before dinner, as I would loathe to lose my appetite.” 

James attempted with all his might to maintain a straight face. He succeeded for all of five seconds at being exasperated before a faint smile broke the seriousness of his features. He looked down at her and met her gaze. If anyone ever doubted he had married the right woman, this moment would surely prove them wrong.  

"Are you lucid? Are you able to speak?" She lifted her head—slowly, nursing the ache—and stared into a pair of intense green eyes.

She recognized them.

She wanted to spit in the face that held them.

"I can speak...but I hardly think you'd...like what I have to say," she retorted. She mustered up as much venom as her could for one word: "Commodore."

James Norrington knew the look of fight in a woman's eyes when saw it. And with this particular woman, he would be surprised if she didn't look ready to start swinging. "Well, it seems that last night's little adventure did little for your attitude," Norrington remarked. "Tell me, Captain Jay, how does it feel to be left behind?"

That comment rendered her sober enough to go paler than she already was. She turned her neck in the direction where Jack Sparrow should have been...but was gone.