Jack catches the grimaces and then turns to tug on his boots as Norrington replies, listening half-disinterestedly. The foul mood that the book put the Commodore is his own business, he decides, and if it has nothing to do with Jack or shooting Jack or kissing Jack, Jack could really care less. He pauses and raises his eyebrows when Norrington begins to list off the languages he does have some affiliatory knowledge with. Stands and goes about finding the rest of his outfit as the Commodore finishes speaking.

"Quite an armory of communication you have there," Jack comments offhand, strapping his sword around his waist. "Tough langues to know, all them wordings of the different islands. Would have counted you as one of them blokes who likes his native and nothing but."

He turns to look at Norrington in the chair, pausing awkwardly and tapping his fingers against his side. "But if you don't like the book, you don't have to be -- " The bell to call to places sounds and Jack stares out one of the windows onto the main deck, seeing blurry shapes scatter topside through the dirty panes. "Hold that thought, mate," he says and moves to the door.

It doesn't open when he first tries it. After a few moments of staring at the door, he recalls that yes, he locked in the night before. Good thinking, that. And now the key is... where? Where'd he put the key? Drinking port he could have put it anywhere and he starts patting his person to locate it. Not there, not there, not -- oh, it is there! Right in the pocket. Also good thinking. Jack slips in the lock and looks over at Norrington with a smile.

"In me pocket," he says, then disappears out onto the maindeck, locking the door behind him. Calling over his shoulder just before the door closes, he calls, "Stay there, now!"

As if Norrington has any other option.