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The Lordling stopped for a moment, toe of one shoe tapping the floor. "...A lapse. A momentary fall from grace. That is not his true nature." And then he continued walking, opening the door to James' apartment and disappeared.

A few moments later, the first strains of Mozart could faintly be heard from the apartment.

"Don't think I've seen you 'round before." Came a voice from behind Jack, slightly slurred and made all the more hard to decipher because of the added heavy French accent.

It came from yet another wolf, who had opened a door that was on the opposite side of the hallway from where Jack was looking, and was now staring at the pirate with definate interest. Interest, because...they were dressed...if not similarly, then at least in the same vein. White ears flickered as he peered at Jack, arms crossed over his chest. He was...dirty without being completely filthy, a sort of harmless grunginess.

"Anatole, who in world are you talkin- Oh." From the apartment emerged a second person, much more proper and clean, a fox with large red wings which flickered slightly. He locked the door behind him and then turned around with an appraising look on his face. ".....Wonderful. Because I NEED another copy of you." He was adressing the wolf, prodding none too gently at this Anatole's shoulder. His accent was...somewhat more dignified than his counterpart's, although there was still something coarse about it.

Alain paused, a slight sneer on his lips. English to boot. He looked Jack up and down for a few moments, and then steps forward past Anatole, his bearing something that was supposed to be regal, but fell just short. There was a moment of pursed lips, and then he inclined his head just slightly. "Captain Alain Danvers..." A sweeping movement of his arm back towards the wolf behind him. "And my friend, Anatole Sommer." A pause, and then because the gentleman-or-would-like-to-be inside him would not be appeased without it: "A pleasure."

Anatole nodded, the wry twist of his lips conveying 'Sorry he's such an a**'.

It was the wolf who piped up, taking a liking to this man, if only because Alain seemed to disapprove of him. He stepped forward. "Only just arrived." Was the explanation he gave, with an amused smile.

Alain frowned even more. Oh, no. Anatole was not going to make friends with this man >> Not if he could help it because the wolf was unbearable on his own, not to mention with another just like him. "No ship to speak of." He took control again, darting a withering glare at the wolf, who just grinned and stepped back again.

~ At the same time ~

The Lord closed the door behind him, leaning against it and rubbing his temples. “I really do detest that man...”

James looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, glass of brandy in hand. His eyes were slightly cold, not terribly pityingly. Jack’s words...he was not very happy with his employer at the present moment. He’d keep up the act around outsiders, because solidarity against Turner or Sparrow was important, but between the two of them, he had taken to being surly. “You talked to him quite a bit.” The wolf observed, tipping his head back as he downed the drink.

“Really now, James. That’s hardly gentlemanly of you.” Cutler Beckett chided, almost teasingly. He paused a moment, and then strode over to the table, pouring himself a second glass without asking - he never did, it was implicit that he was allowed to take it, or rather he granted himself the right to take it. And yet...he repeated the action, with immaculate grace as he downed an entire glass in one go.

Norrington looked up at him with furrowed brow. “You are...”

“Wonderfully graceful. I know.” Cutler smirked to himself as he poured another glass and then wandered over to the piano that he had gifted to James - the man hadn’t been able to resist, what with his affinity for music - and placed it on top, looking far too pleased with himself.

“I was rather going to say, a raging hypocrite.” Was the answering snarl, to which the little lord only smirked some more.

Cutler slid open the cover for the piano keys, pausing for a moment before his fingers settled. “You would say so.” But he really wouldn’t be able to put up with that snarly attitude much longer, and so he began to finger exercises to warm up, before launching into something by Mozart a few moments later. “Sparrow certainly got you riled up.” Beckett observed idly - not truly idly, of course, but he certainly seemed so - as he moved easily through the piece.

A snarl came from Norrington’s direction, but nothing more for a good long time. Cutler heard him get up and begin to pace back and forth. The smaller wolf sighed and continued on with the piece he was playing, closing his eyes after a while. When one was finished, he moved on to something else, licking his lips as he played. “Do sit down, James.” He commented after several different pieces had been played out. “You’re going to make me nervous if you keep that up...”

He heard a mocking laugh from behind him. “Oh, I highly doubt that anything this puppy could do would make you nervous.”

Ah. Well. “Quite frankly, I wouldn’t put much import on Sparrow’s words. You know how he likes to natter on....” Implying, additionally, that anything Jack said was either a lie, or had the hint of one, and always intended to rile up.

Norrington growled. “And yet, he’s right. I’m no better than your lapdog.”

The lordling frowned to himself. If he had been the sole cause of such a confession, Beckett would have been so very pleased. It would have meant a step further down the path, another level of ownership over the pretty Admiral. But this was Sparrow’s doing, which meant that it was tainted with anger and resentment, rather than submission. It was an accusation, not acceptance. That was...altogether too dangerous. “Now, now James. Hardly that. Business partners. Hardly my...pet.”

“Oh yes?” Now the admiral came into his field of vision from the side, snarling and angry. Cutler continued to play the piano, cursing Sparrow in his head. “And have all your other business partners been summoned to your bed?” The last word was spat out in disgust.

He really thought he ought to be afraid - he knew that the admiral was terribly capable with a sword - but...fear would only make the situation worse. And so he continued to be nonchalant, although the current piece was slowly changing into something more soothing - on the spot composition until he could find some other piece that wasn’t at all abrasive - and he was plotting the right words to say. “Is that what you think I’ve done to you? Summoned?”

“You can’t think I’m willing.”

Any lesser man would have been hurt. Well. He was...hurt...somewhere deep down. James was an attractive man, both physically and in attitude. It was hard not to fall for him, and in some way, Cutler had. It wasn’t love, of course, nor would he now crumple upon knowing that far from liking him, the Admiral’s reaction was...something approaching hatred. Yes, this was very dangerous. But he could handle it. “Forgive me. I thought you were....” They had never discussed this before. And he always made sure that James had his pleasure too, that the demands in one night were never too extravagant. Oh yes, he was always very careful.

Norrington snorted. “Amazing. Is there anything that falls from your lips that isn’t a lie?”

“Believe me, James-“

“Stop addressing me in that manner, Lord Beckett.”

...Ah... “...Admiral, then. I am not lying to you.” ....Would it be too crass to point it out? Quite possibly. “I did not think you had complaints......”

“Well then. Now you know. I do.”

He was NOT a happy man, at this moment. He did not want to lose his privileges to Norrington’s bed, he was not done with his plaything. He would not be tossed out until he had had his fill. And then James continued. “Of course, I’m not naive enough, I flatter myself, to assume that my objections will stop you from continuing.”

“......You are an attractive man, Admiral.” It was not really a concession, although judging from the way that James barged in again, he took it as such.

“I should have known.” A sneer.

“Are you going to let me finish?” He snapped a little - note that he had not once paused in playing the piano, moving from one piece to the next, although he had some time ago picked up a book of sheet music with Chopin’s sonatas - and then sighed. “As I was saying - you are an attractive man, Admiral. Quite attractive, in fact, and I find it incredibly difficult to resist such temptation.”

“There are whores with prettier faces than mine, I can assure you that.”

The lordling affected a wince. “No doubt. But you jump to conclusions, Admiral. Affection is not confined to one’s personal appearance, and I imagine I’d be hard pressed to find a substitute with your personality...”

“With all due respect, Lord Beckett” dripping with sarcasm “I am in a great deal of doubt as to your ability to feel an emotion such as affection. Besides - not my concern.”

Another sigh. “And yet, in spite of your doubt....” The unspoken words: it exists. “And so, where does that leave us, Admiral Norrington?” He finished up his piece, just then, and turned to look at James full on, hands folded in his lap.

Oh, the Admiral was angry, and it just made him all the more beautiful to behold. Beckett had to force himself to not smile, because then Norrington would think he was mocking him. And he wasn’t.

“You no longer hold control over my situation.” James snarled. “A warrant for my arrest no longer means anything.”

Cutler nodded. “That is true, Admiral. Completely true. I can’t leash you anymore, not through threats. So I say again: Where does that leave us?”

Norrington stared at him. “I’m not sure.” He finally admitted.

The lord smiled, just a little bit, careful not to look smug or dangerous. “Shall I suggest something, then? Continue to work for me. You are a clever man, Admiral Norrington. But I think we would both agree that I am much more experienced both in the realms of politics and in business. Stay with me, and we can both attain a powerful, respectable position in this society. You are not a man to be contented with idleness, and if you leave me, what will you then do? Find a job? Settle down on land?” Cutler shook his head. “I think not. I can help you, if you will continue to help me.”

Good, good. He looked like he was at least considering it, and Beckett didn’t push just yet, an amiable look on his face. But there was still a great deal of apprehension and malice on the other man’s face, and the lordling waited for the next objection.

“And what of your bed? Is that a condition of your...‘help’ as well?”

Again, he affected a sigh, reaching up and removing his wig so that he could run a hand through short, curly hair. “Of course not, if you so object to it. I would make one request?”

Norrington’s eyes were narrowed, but he nodded curtly.

“Give me a chance, Admiral? I will not push you, and in return, perhaps you could try not to let previous prejudices cloud your judgement? That’s all I ask.”

James snorted. “I’ll think about that.”

Cutler’s eyes were half-lidded - he wasn’t completely pleased with the situation, but he could certainly work from this, instead of Norrington leaving him completely. He could always slowly begin to lean on him again in a while, after most of his resentment had dissappeared - and he nodded humbly. “All I ask.” After a moment, he looked up again. “With that settled, Admiral...perhaps you would join me in a duet? It’s been a while since we last played together, and I do love to hear you play...”

The wolf stared at him suspiciously, for long enough that Cutler was forced to sigh again - not entirely affected this time, for the suspicion was wearying - and shook his head. “I promise I’m not going to bite...”

There was a growl, but then Norrington stalked over and sat beside him - the smaller wolf scooting over to make room. “What did you have in mind?” There was, in his tone, a hint of returning civility, and Beckett smiled to himself.

“Why don’t you choose?”

Raffh was a little nervouse about speaking to Chiron, hand resting on the barest swell of his stomach as he looked up the stairs to their floor. Well staying here wasn't going to do anything, he sigh and started up the stairs, using the rail even though what he wanted to do was burry into Demetrius and not let go.

Raffh knocked on the apartment door slowly and tentivily. He flickered his ears and gave a other knock. "Chiron?" He questioned and started looking for his key in his pocket. Chiron hadn't been feeling the best earlier.