Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to someone else, to each other in most cases. snort

Warning: adult themes, adult language, nudity, alcoholism, domestic abuse, spider abuse, horrible lying, and slash and silliness.

Authors' Notes: We are insane! If anyone asks, it was the evil bunnies. They are solely responsible for the Horchie, the Sparrington, and the Stylesews. Pretty pretty please review…or die.

How Will Turner Killed His Wife

Commander Hornblower, and Lieutenants Bush and Kennedy, were sitting in the captain's cabin of HMS Retribution, drinking and being happy. Hornblower raised his glass.

"Well," he said, "Here's to the good outcome of the court martial."

"I'll drink to that," said Bush, lifting his own glass of alcohol, "And to our swift recovery from our wounds."

"And Horatio's promotion," added Kennedy, with a proud smile.

They all drank deeply, and Bush made a face.

"What is this, Mr. Hornblower?" He asked, staring into his glass.

"I found it in the hold. Some sort of Spanish liquor. I quite like it."

"It tastes like bilge water. No offence, sir."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Archie put in, "but it really does taste revolting."

Horatio shrugged and downed the rest of his glass.

"I think there's some port in the cupboard if you're going to be picky," he said peevishly.

Archie and Bush quickly went to investigate, and returned with their drinks a moment later, much happier. Horatio still looked sulky, so Bush cast around for a topic of conversation.

"So, great weather we're having, eh?"

"What do you want to do on shore leave tomorrow?" Archie asked, ignoring him.

"I think we should go get roaring drunk," Horatio slurred, wobbling slightly in his chair. "And then we can go find some place to shag." He grinned endearingly at Archie, who rolled his eyes.

"You're drunk already, Horatio."

"So how about we shag now then?"

Bush looked up sharply, giving him a quizzical look.

"Don't mind him, sir," Archie said. "I think there's something funny in the Spanish liquor."

Bush's face lit up as he remembered something.

"We can go visit my uncle!" He said.

"Oh, the blacksmith?"

"Yes, he lives in Port Royal. I'm sure he'd be pleased to meet you two."

Archie glanced at Horatio, who was singing 'Rule Britannia' loudly.

"That sounds like a lovely idea."

The next day:

It was noon before Horatio felt recovered enough to do anything other than lie in his cot with his hands over his head moaning, so they got a late start. Leaving Wellard, Matthews, and Styles in command of the ship, they set out for Port Royal, and, once there, went to Mr. Turner's house. They found him in the forge.

"Uncle Will!"

"Nephew Will!"

"How's your wife?"

"I killed her!"

"I'm glad to hear it. I never liked her."

"I hope you can stay for dinner."

"We were planning to, actually."

They were sitting around the dinner table, when Horatio, who was facing the window, noticed a movement outside. He squinted into the darkness outside, and was startled when a swarthy face appeared at the window, making inappropriate tongue gestures.

"Mr. Turner!" He exclaimed, "There's a strange man at your window. Let's kill him!"

Turner looked toward the window, then grinned when he saw who it was.

"Oh, that's just Jack." He said. "He's a friend of mine. Pirate. Great fellow. I'll invite him in and you can meet him."

" A pirate! Horror!"

Turner walked over to the window and opened it. Jack clambered in, looking dirty and bedraggled and utterly disreputable, and tripped over the corner of the rug.

"Ahoy, mateys!" He said, from his position on the floor. "Thanks, Will, I was hoping for a free meal."

"Everyone, this is Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack, this is my nephew William Bush--"

"Very creative with names in your family, aren't they?"

"—and his shipmates Horatio Hornblower-"

Jack snorted.

"—and Archie Kennedy."

Jack scrambled to his feet.

"Very pleased to meet you. Hornblower, Kennedy, Bushie."

He nodded to them in turn, before taking a seat at the table, grabbing a plate, and filling it with food. Horatio was appalled by his rowdiness and complete lack of manners. Archie liked him immediately, for the same reasons. Bush looked stunned, as if unable to process the fact that he had just been called 'Bushie'. He was about to start complaining, when Jack launched into a lengthy story about his latest adventure. Suddenly, a high-pitched squeal came from Horatio's end of the table. When everyone turned to look, he blushed and looked around as if in search of the source of the sound. Jack raised his eyebrows, before resuming his story. Then, without warning, he flung his fork halfway across the room.

"Oh dear," he said, "I seem to have dropped my fork."

He got up and went to retrieve it. When he bent down to pick it up, he noticed that under the table, Archie was trying to lift the napkin off of Horatio's lap with his toes.

"That's interesting," he muttered to himself, returning to the table with his fork.

After the meal was finished, Turner said,

"You know, what we need is some wine. I bought some lovely 1172 Merlot from a smuggler the other day, and I've been dying to try it."

"As long as it's not Spanish," Bush muttered.

"Oh damn," Turner continued, "I just remembered it's Servant Appreciation Day, so someone will have to go down to the cellar and get it."

Archie bounced in his seat, waving his hand in the air.

"Ooh, I'll go!" He volunteered.

"I'll help," Horatio said, "It might be heavy."

"I don't think it takes two--" Turner started, but they were already gone.

Ten minutes passed before Jack started to wonder why they were taking so long.

"I'll just go see if they need help," he said, "they might have gotten lost on the stairs."

Jack crept stealthily down the stairs into the wine cellar, listening for muffled noises. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he noticed two dark shapes in the darkest corner. It didn't look like they were looking for the wine. Unless they thought it was in each other's pants, or possibly down each other's throats. He strolled casually across the room. They completely failed to notice him, until he cleared his throat loudly and said,

"So, have you found the wine yet?"

The two men leaped ten feet in the air, and Horatio squeaked.

"It's not what it looks like!" They exclaimed simultaneously. "There was a--"

"Spider," said Archie.

"Rat," said Horatio.

"In his--"

"And Archie was trying to--"

"Well which was it?" Jack asked, trying desperately not to laugh.

"Um, the rat was chasing the spider."

"And I was just getting the wine, and--"

Jack looked around. There was no wine bottle anywhere near them. Archie had clearly pounced the moment they got down there, and Jack didn't think Horatio had put up much of a struggle.

"Have you found it yet?" He asked, with a pointed glance at Archie's hand, which hadn't moved.

Archie swiftly removed his hand, and stammered,

"Ah, yes, um, I was just making sure there weren't any more."

"Very conscientious." Jack said dryly. "Well, don't let me disturb you."

He turned and stalked out. Horatio and Archie looked at each other. Archie shrugged, and reached for Horatio again. Horatio flailed and protested.

"Archie, no, we shouldn't! What if he comes back?"

"All right then." Archie abruptly pulled away and went in search of the wine.

"Wait, no, I didn't mean completely stop. I mean--" Horatio started getting confused and flustered and muttering to himself, so Archie took pity on him. They were just getting comfortable again, when they were interrupted again by a loud clattering from the stairs.

Horatio screamed in frustration and started beating his head against the wall. Archie buttoned his trousers, and looked up to see Styles and Matthews standing in front of them.

"Aren't you supposed to be looking after the ship?" He asked.

"Yes, sir, but beggin' yer pardon, sir, the rum's gone." Matthews said, saluting respectfully.

"Gone? But we just filled up the hold with barrels yesterday."

"Dunno what happened, sir," Styles put in, "We were just havin' a couple mugs, and suddenly it was all gone."

"Unbelievable." Archie poked Horatio. "Horatio, those drunken sailors have finished all the rum!"

Horatio looked up blearily. "Wha?"

"The rum, man, they've finished it!"

"But we just filled up the hold with barrels yesterday!"

"I know."

"Just give them more and make them go away. I want to snog. I mean…" He glanced at the two sailors, who acted as if they hadn't heard anything.

Later that evening:

Commodore James Norrington was sleeping peacefully in his bed. Suddenly, the window rattled loudly as Captain Jack Sparrow tried to open it from outside. The Commodore slept on, and Jack eventually got the window open, with the aid of a convenient hairpin. He climbed in, knocking over a chair as he did so. Norrington still did not wake up. Jack looked down at the chair, and across at the bed, his head tilted to one side. He casually leaned down, picked the chair up, and hurled it violently at the far wall. It smashed into many pieces, with a loud crash. Norrington snuffled, turned over, and still did not wake up. Jack walked over to examine the remains of the chair, and stood for another moment in silent contemplation. Then, with a fearsome yell, he launched himself across the room and onto the bed, landing right on top of the Commodore and making frightening faces. At this, Norrington did wake up, and screamed loudly. Norrington's scream startled Jack, who screamed again. This continued for another few minutes, until James' throat started hurting, so he stopped screaming to ask,

"Jack, what the hell are you doing?" With as much dignity as he could muster.

Before Jack could reply, there was the sound of running feet in the hallway, and a pounding at the door.

"Are you all right, sir?" Norrington's butler yelled.

Norrington looked like a rabbit caught in the headlamps of a phaeton. After a moment, he recovered his wits enough to call back,

"Yes, I'm fine. Just- ouch!" He exclaimed as Jack, trying to roll off of him, accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

The doorknob rattled, and, to Norrington's horror, it was not locked and the door began to open. He forcibly shoved Jack onto the floor, making a loud thud. Jack just had time to roll under the bed before the butler came in, followed by a gaggle of frantic housemaids.

"What was all the screaming, sir?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just, er, singing, um…a lullaby?"

"Oh. Sorry to disturb you, sir," the butler said, too well trained to show any sign of astonishment. The servants were just turning to leave when a strangled choking coughing sneezing sound came from under the bed.

"What was that, sir?" He asked.

"It was…the cat."

"Cat? We don't have a cat, sir."

"Well, um… we do now. I bought one today."

"Indeed, sir?"

"Yes. Really. I'm not lying or anything." As Norrington warmed up to his story, he continued, "Yes. That's what the thump was, actually. It was the cat jumping off the bed. Onto the floor. It didn't like the lullaby."

"It sounded a bit big to be a cat, sir."

"It's a very fat cat. Hey, that rhymed!"

One of the housemaids suddenly squealed.

"Ooh, I love cats! Can I see him, sir?" She started to kneel down in order to look under the bed, and Norrington panicked.

"Noooooo!" He screamed, grabbing a large and heavy book from the bedside table and chucking it at her head. It hit her and she fell over, unconscious.

"I'll just be going then, sir," the butler said, slowly edging toward the door. "Sorry for disturbing you, sir." Two other housemaids dragged the unconscious cat-lover out by her ankles, shutting the door behind them. Norrington let out a sigh of relief. Jack rolled out from under the bed, completely covered in dust.

"Jamie luv, before you kill all your housemaids, could you possibly get one of them to clean under the bed?"

"Shut up and lock the door. And then get over here."

Jack got up and tried to brush the dust off of himself but, realizing the futility of his actions, decided to instead remove the dusty clothing. He sauntered shamelessly to the other side of the bedroom and grabbed the key off the chest of drawers, before going back to the door and locking it. Then he launched himself into the bed, once again landing on top of Norrington.

"So," Jack said seductively, "where were we?"

"Well, I believe I just asked you what the hell you're doing here."

"Ah, yes," Jack said, "so you're not going to be all romantic and seduce-able." He employed his best pathetic look, with puppy eyes and pouty mouth.

Norrington chuckled.

"Mon petit…wait, what's the French word for pirate?"

"Oh, shut up," Jack said, kissing him.

Sometime later…

Commodore Norrington was about to fall asleep, curled up in Jack's arms, when he felt Jack poke him in the stomach.

"Ouch!" He complained, too tired to retaliate, "what was that for?"

"You can't go to sleep yet," Jack said, sounding irritatingly awake, "there's something really really important that I need to talk to you about. Right now."

"Right now?" Norrington asked, "Can't it wait 'til morning?"

There was a pause. For a moment, he thought Jack had actually been considerate for once, until Jack started to tickle him. He squealed and flailed and giggled as the pirate's fingers attacked his rib cage. After a few seconds, he was begging for mercy.

"Good. Now don't fall asleep while I'm talking, or I'll tickle you again."

Norrington rolled onto his back so Jack could see how wide open his eyes were and incidentally so he could look at the pretty pirate.

"Will Turner's nephew and two of his friends are visiting him and since they're all naval type chaps, I thought you'd like to invite them to dinner."

"Oh, is that all?"


"Good. Can I go to sleep now?"

"Are you going to invite them to dinner?"

"If you'll let me sleep. I mean…if it'll make you happy, snuggle muffin."

Jack laughed and then cuddled up against Norrington and they both fell asleep.

The next day…

Horatio and Archie were happy to accept the Commodore's invitation but Bush declined because he wanted to spend the evening with his uncle. When they arrived at Norrington's house, he led them out onto the terrace where there was a table laid out. They were surprised to see Captain Sparrow sitting with his chair tipped back and his funkily booted feet on the table.

"Hello, boys," he said, grinning. "Nice to see you again."

The two men stared incredulously and apprehensively at the pirate.

"What are you doing here?" Horatio asked.

Jack opened his mouth to speak but, before he could say anything, Norrington came onto the terrace.

"Jack, what have you done with all the servants?"

"I ate them. No, really, I sent them away."

"Why on earth would you want to do that?"

Jack shrugged. Norrington poured everyone wine and Archie looked hungrily at the dishes of food on the side board, wondering when they would eat. Everything was peaceful for all of two minutes during which time Jack got semi-drunk. The conversation turned to the subject of the mutiny. Archie complained about the amount of interpretation to which the Articles of War were open, giving captains the power to claim any sort of interaction between officers was mutiny.

"Speaking of interactions," Jack said loudly, slamming his glass of rum down onto the table, sloshing the liquid over the sides, "and Articles of War, how about that twenty ninth Article, then?"

The other three all started violently, and stared at him, horrified by what they thought he might reveal. Jack turned to Norrington.

"How does it go again, Nin?"

Horatio and Archie were momentarily distracted from their predicament by this odd nickname, and they looked at each other, communicating with their psychic powers. Norrington looked warningly at Jack, trying to communicate that if he continued in the vein, something very painful and unpleasant would happen to him as soon as the guests were gone. Unfortunately, they did not have such highly developed psychic powers as the other two. Either that or Jack was just ignoring him.

"Surely, a Commodore in His Majesty's Navy ought to know the Articles of War off by heart," Jack prompted, earning himself the hairy eyeball.

"Horatio knows all about the Articles of War," Archie said brightly, "What with the mutiny, and tricking the Frogs by sailing under false colours, and…let's see, what else…ow!"

He stopped talking with a cry of pain as Horatio kicked him in the leg.

Jack looked at them knowingly, smirking and raising his eyebrow. Norrington looked confused, then slightly panicked as Jack turned his attention back to him.

"Go on, then! We're waiting…well, I'm waiting, anyway."

Norrington took a deep breath, then recited the Article as if he were reading it out to the crew of his ship, as he did every week.

"Article 29: If any person in the fleet shall commit the unnatural and detestable sin of buggery and sodomy with man or beast, he shall be punished with death by the sentence of a court martial."

"That's right," Jack yelled, "SODOMY!"

Everyone jumped slightly, and looked uncomfortable. I hope to God the servants aren't listening, Norrington thought. Oh God, he's going to tell the Commodore, Horatio thought. It's so much fun yelling 'sodomy' at the top of my lungs, Jack thought. I wonder if I can start eating yet, Archie thought.

Horatio, trying to appear casual, picked up the wine bottle and attempted to pour himself a glass. Unfortunately, he failed miserably, as his shaky hands made him knock the glass over and spill the red wine all over the white tablecloth. Jack looked up with an evil grin.

"Oh, it seems we're out of wine," he said, trying to look innocent. "Perhaps you and Mr. Kennedy could go down to the cellar and get us some more. Watch out for the spiders, though. Lots of spiders down there. And rats."

Horatio blushed, and Archie snorted with ill-concealed laughter. Horatio tried to kick him again, but as his foot made contact with a leg, it was Norrington who screamed loudly and fell backwards out of his chair, clutching his shin in agony. Jack immediately sprang to his side, while Horatio started apologizing profusely and Archie leaned backwards in his seat, laughing uncontrollably.

"Are you all right, duckling?" Jack cooed, "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

Norrington flailed and protested, so Jack decided that the best course of action would be to kiss him. So he did. Norrington pushed him away.

"Jack, what the hell are you doing?"

Horatio and Archie were shocked and stunned, but recognized the flailing as not actual repulsion on the Commodore's part, but the type of flailing that Horatio did when he was being skittish. Archie said cheekily,

"I'm surprised at you sir, the Commodore of the Caribbean Fleet and you let a pirate accost you in such a manner! You won't let him escape unpunished, will you?"

Norrington tried to explain, but only succeeded in stammering incoherently.

"No, it's not…you see, he was just…I mean, I was, and…"

Jack, who was literally rolling on the floor laughing, stopped to comment,

"You sound just like those two when I caught them in the wine cellar last night. What they were doing, a gentleman would not venture to guess. Fortunately, I'm not a gentleman so--"

Horatio, who was getting tired of all this verbal repartee, which was one of the few things he was not talented at, interrupted him. A decisive man of action as always, he leaned across the table towards Archie, who was still laughing, grabbed his face, and kissed him on the lips. Archie was surprised, but pleasantly so, and pulled him closer by his queue in order to respond more fully.

Still on the floor, Norrington would have fallen over from shock, if he hadn't been horizontal already. Jack stopped laughing and looked smug. Norrington glanced at him sharply.

"You knew all along, didn't you?" He demanded angrily. Jack looked infuriatingly pleased with himself.


Norrington shoved him but overbalanced and ended on top of him. Jack, ever the opportunist, immediately took advantage of the situation by wrapping his arms around him and refusing to let go. In order to entice Norrington out of prude mode, Jack pointed out that Horatio and Archie wouldn't notice anything going on, on the floor because they were a trifle distracted. Norrington, looking at Horatio, who had moved around the table and was currently sitting in Archie's lap, was forced to agree. He gave into the pirate's insistent demands that he pay attention to him rather than ogling at the pretty lieutenants. SNOGFEST

A little while later, drunken singing could be heard in the distance. The snogfest ceased, but before anyone could disentangle themselves or adjust their clothing, Matthews and Styles stumbled down the garden path towards them, drunk and all over each other. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at them. Jack queried,

"What is it with you navy people?"

"What is it with you pirate people?" Norrington retorted, somewhat illogically, since there was only one pirate there.

They bickered for a bit, like the cute muffins that they are, and everybody had rum and sang Irish drinking songs.

The next morning:

Will and….Will, alarmed by the fact that Horatio and Archie hadn't returned from dinner the night before, went over to Norrington's house to see if they were there. They moseyed around the back and were shocked to find Horatio and Archie, Jack and Norrington, and Matthews and Styles all passed out on the lawn, in each other's arms. Turner shook his head and walked away, muttering,

"I'm not even going to ask. But it was probably the pirate's fault."

Bush cast around for an appropriate and uncontroversial topic of conversation.

"So, uncle," he asked, "how did you kill your wife?"


What we wrote when there were parents in the room:

Once upon a time….in the Swiss Alps, there was an alp that was Swiss, named Edward. He was a kind and gentle alp, always minding his manners and such. Then one day, he was attacked by a pair of nixies. The nixies pulled his hair and called him bad names. He cried. "What have I done to deserve this?" he wondered as all of his friends to whom he had been so kind and gentle and minded his manners, completely failed to come to his rescue. The end. Just kidding.