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"Indeed." He responded icily, primly. At the shift in Jack's eyes, the...recognition - Recognition of what? - he stiffened a little bit more. He knew the pirate well enough to ascertain that things could potentially get a good deal more interesting, and his hand settled around his hilt a little more heavily.


"Certainly." And then the wolf had the gall to smile at Jack and turn back to Norrington. It got a try or two to regain James' attention - >> Damn Sparrow - but in the end he went back to explaining to the other Englishman his breif forays out into the world of Gaia and what might possibly function for a respectable business endevour. All the while, not importing anything of particular importance and completely ignoring Jack.

And while Jack wasn't actively agitating, Cutler wasn't going to bother with him - no matter how much he deeply, vehemenatly loathed him, which was saying quite a bit, given that Beckett prided himself on not having such violent reactions - until Jack started annoying them once more. Although the range of things he could discuss with James that were for any and sundry ears were limited. More in depth matters, he'd rather were discussed in private. Especially not in front of such vile and hated ears as those of the pirate sitting across from them.

Norrington was not so at ease, although he tried to follow Beckett's lead in ignoring Jack. Every so often, his eyes flicked towards the pirate.

At length, Cutler sat back and cleared his throat. He hated to be driven out of the lounge by Jack, but to be tormented by him was also not the most appealing of options. "I do believe it's time to retire." He announced, standing up and walking towards the door, turning back about halfway. "James?"

Oh.

OH.

The jibe hit something within the Admiral's consience, something that had been smarting recently because of...

A leash. A leash exerted with less and less regularity now that Beckett had something else to occupy his thoughts and his time - thankfully, given that otherwise he would have had even more time on his hands - but still exercised every now and again.

He could slip from under the Lord's control now. If he so chose. His postion no longer depended up on the East India Trading company's benevolance, nor the benevolence of it's head. And yet...Beckett had promised him a boat. Not for business, but for his own pleasure. And there was no doubt that the Lord was...so much more skilled, when it came to things of monetary nature. He was not quite a partner in their shared business endevour. But close enough. Enough to include him when the businessman was pondering over his - their - next course of action.

And so before he could really think about it, he was off of the couch, across the room and leaning menacingly over the seated Jack Sparrow, hands on either side of the pirate, effectively pinning him in as he snarled. "What was that, Sparrow?"

...How interesting. Cutler turned in the doorway, and then reclined against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, not interfering because calling off James only meant giving the pirate more leverage.

Which he did not need.

He struggled so desperately not to lose his cool any further than he already had, which was so terribly difficult, not completely because bloody Jack Sparrow had just insulted him for the second time in such a short space of time - the second insult even worse than the first, in both proclamation and manner in which it was proclaimed - but because...

God damn it...he could feel Cutler's eyes on his back. Curious. Amused. He knew exactly what emotions were playing in those cold eyes, because he saw them far too often for his own liking. He knew exactly why James was reacting so violently to Jack's accusation.

Because it was true.

The heart...he'd not sold himself in that action, that was...not immoral nor embarassing, not to Norrington. He had had no guilt in taking the heart away from Jack. When Cutler had demanded that the Navy cooperate with the East India Trading company in sometimes less than legal endevours - at least the Navy stationed at Port Royale - he...had agreed with some reluctance.

But then the Lord had made a further demand. A quite personal demand. And against his better judgement, his pride and his morals, Norrington had bowed because he found himself far too attached to the gentlemanly life, and above all, to the sea.

Using Jack's horrible breath as an excuse, he jerked back, nose wrinkling in distaste. Another snarl rose to his lips, and then the Admiral whirled around and stalked out of the room. He had enough sense not to retire to Cutler's room, even though he knew it was open - it would be a terrible idea for Jack to know where the Lord slept - and threw open his own door, slamming it shut behind him.

Which left Beckett and Jack alone in the lounge, the former still reclining against the wall with an easy grace, his amused gaze now shifting to the pirate. Ah...perhaps he should let up on his demands just a tad - apparently they were vexing the Admiral to a larger extent than he thought. And it would do no good for James to develop enough loathing for someone else to manipulate.

Cutler had an easy smile on his face that didn't extend into his eyes - but then again, it rarely did, even when he was truly pleased with something. He simply watched Jack. After a moment, the smile turned into a smirk, and he shook his head. "Tsk tsk. Jack, you disappoint me." The situation had turned a bit more interesting, and he pushed off the wall to stride forwards, placing his hands on the back of the couch across from the pirate and leaning on them. "One would think you'd remember: That does not work."

He glanced over his shoulder for a moment, looking in the direction that James had stormed off in, and then back at the pirate. He was pondering just how he was going to calm down the Admiral, once he followed suit and retired - to James' apartment, of course. One of the Lord's real joys in life - other than succeeding in whatever realm he chose to persue - was music. Oddly enough. And usually, if he simply sat down at the piano long enough, he could coax a state of semi-relaxation from the tightly-wound navy man. No powerplays tonight, that much was clear. "From your ever so enjoyable presence here, I will assume that you have recently come across Mr. Turner..."

"He seemed fairly certain that you would part with the compass..." Beckett mused innocently, - a mask, surely - bringing a hand to his mouth in contemplation. "Ah...but he did call you 'more aquaintence than friend'. So I suppose you are right." We've had dealings in the past, and we've each left our mark on the other.... Oh, how he detested Jack Sparrow. "It is quite remarkable how few friends you do acrue."

It would have quite made Cutler's day to know that Jack was so suspicious of him.

"A great deal more than a pirate, I would venture to wager." The wolf responded evenly, the word 'pirate' standing out in the sentance much as 'Beckett' had stood out in Jack's. There was a hint of sneer in his voice. "As for the standards...appreciation of your presence?" Another raised eyebrow, and a bored smirk. He doubted there were few who did.

...No doubt. No doubt.

There was a slight wince at the mangling of the French - no doubt more contrived than anything, given that the Lord rarely showed anymore than he was willing - and then his expression became trained and neutral again...almost neutral, with a faint touch of superiority. "I wouldn't know." He intoned archly. "I've never been in a sty. To each his own, though...I suppose." And then he turned to go, smirking. "If one likes pigs." And now he was walking away, arms held loosely behind his back.