Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or anything remotely related to it, besides maybe the plot, but my friends probably own that two, along with my soul.

A/N: Norrington has left his post as Commodore to be with Jack. When Jack is captured Norrington does the only thing he can to save him. Gillette has a decision to make. Jack/Norrington with references to one-sided more-than-just-military-admiration from Gillette to Norrington. Very random. Don't ask. Just read.

Curtly dismissing the guards, Lieutenant Gillette of Port Royale closed the door of his office, and turned to face the bandy-legged, infamous, and now shackled pirate. Jack Sparrow was leaning drunkenly on his desk, grinning like a madman.

"You said you had something important to ask me Lieutenant?" he asked lewdly, leaning forward slightly, invariably accompanied by wild (and supposedly rum-induced) hand gestures.

Gillette strode forward, pulling an already opened letter from his inside coat pocket. Handing it to Jack, he turned towards the window as Jack sat at the desk and began to read the letter.

Jack felt his mouth go dry as he read the letter, written in that almost illegible slanting script that was so familiar to him.

Gillette chanced a glance back at Jack, who had gone quiet, eyes flicking back to the top of the page to reread the letter. Without taking his eyes from the text, he spoke, softly.

"He turned himself in for me, didn't he?"

Gillette didn't say anything, knowing Jack didn't need an answer. Finally turning to the now subdued pirate captain, he addressed him carefully, stalling slightly, avoiding his eyes.

"I hope you will forgive me- for reading the letter…" There was no response, positive or negative, so Gillette continued.

"I know the Commodore to be an honest man Mr. Sparrow, deserter or not." He paused; not sure how phrase what he wanted to say. Settling on the most direct, albeit blunt way, he looked back, catching Jack's scrutinizing gaze.

"If he said he loves you, he does. And he will not break that trust, and he trusts you not to either." And then, more quietly, as if he didn't realize it had come out of his mouth. "And for my part, I envy you."

Jack blinked in surprise. But the expression on Gillette's face was blank save for a flicker of emotion in chestnut eyes. An expression much like how James looked when hiding how he really felt. Gillette had obviously learned his method of dissembling from a professional.

He looked back at the letter, smiling slightly, before muttering, "I always knew there was something between you and James…"

Gillette coughed uncomfortably. "Not on his part there wasn't. Now if you don't mind Sparrow we're getting off topic." Gillette set his hands on the desk in front of Jack.

"If you leave, he will be killed. If he leaves, you will be killed."

"I know that-" Jack replied, his usually drunken demeanor gone in the face of James's choice and impending fate.

"Then I have one last question for you. Do you love him back?"

Jack looked up sharply. "What?"

Gillette's eyes gazed steadily into Jack's, full of calm determination.

"Do you love him?"

Jack looked into those fierce eyes, seeing for the first time, the love and admiration Gillette held for his former superior. He replied simply, "Yes. I love him."

Gillette looked at him a moment longer, as if gouging his response, then straightened sharply.

"Good. I feel no guilt in giving you this then." He opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a ring of keys. Detatching one, he dropped it on the desk in front of Jack.

"Leave it under the straw in your cell when you're done."

"What?"

Gillette was forced to smile slightly at the completely bewildered and surprised look on the pirates face as he held the key.

"Let me put this simply for you." He ignored the slight glare Jack gave him. "I am giving you the key to both yours and James's cells. Take the back door out by the kitchens. The guards will be over on the other side of the battlements. If you're caught I can't help you. And for general knowledge, we never had this conversation. Now, on your way." And Gillette turned, and walked towards the door, as if there was nothing bizarre about what he had just done.

Jack sat there in astonishment. This was possibly the last thing he had envisioned when he had been summoned to the Lieutenant's office. And after learning of his and James's affair, he was giving him the keys so they could escape together? Risking his job when there was no personal gain for him? It made no sense.

"Lieutenant?"

Gillette stopped and answered the unspoken question without turning.

"I have no desire to see my- the Commodore dead, Sparrow. Nor you, if you bring him happiness." Gillette turned smiling. "And if you play him false pirate, I'll kill you. Agreed?"

Jack grinned. "Your Commodore?" he teased, standing as Gillette opened the door, grinning at the slight blush on Gillette's face.

"Well I suppose he's yours now really." Muttered Gillette under his breath.

"Any message you'd like me to convey to the Commodore Lieutenant?"

Gillette smiled amusedly. "Tell him…" He paused grinning. "Tell him he owes me a kiss."

And he walked off over the battlements, military coat billowing slightly in the Caribbean breeze. Jack watched him go as the two guards came to escort him back to his cell, fingering the key hidden up his sleeve, grinning. He looked down, muttering to himself through barely concealed amusement.

"S'good to know there's Commodore material left in Port Royale…"