"My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold . . ."

Angelica Teach listened to the crew as she stood at the wheel. They had initially been reluctant to sail through the night again - they'd been working hard since they left the last port - but the sea was calm that night, which made things much easier for them. A good job, too. Things were tentative enough aboard the Queen Anne's Revenge of late without having to sail through a storm, too. She found herself humming along with them as she gave the wheel a gentle tug, steadying their course.

"Pretty voice y'ave there, Miss Teach." The gruff voice of her new captain came from behind her, and she turned her head slightly.

It had been easy enough to convince Hector Barbossa to take her aboard when he had seen her signal from the island which that treacherous Jack Sparrow had left her on. Mutual hatred of that filthy cur and a need for vengeance seemed to be enough for them to forge an uneasy alliance on, and Angelica was more than happy with that. It helped, of course, that Angelica was holding vital information concerning the release of the fleet of bottle-bound ships beneath the deck of Barbossa's new ship – and, by default, clues as to what Jack would be attempting to do. They both knew without a doubt that he wouldn't rest until he had the Black Pearl again.

That didn't mean she liked the fact that she was working with the man who had been prophesied as her father's murderer until Jack decided to get himself involved. But she could deal with it. Angelica was good at dealing with things. She was a woman, and if her life had taught her one thing it was that women were the best at dealing with whatever was thrown at them. Men tended to react too quickly, their anger and irritation hot and flaring and sudden. Too easily snuffed out. Women, on the other hand could be fiery, yes, but when it really mattered they were cold. Calculating. They planned and they plotted, they could contain their slow-burning rage until the opportune moment and then when it was unleashed - well, hell hath no fury, after all.

It was the slow-burn that she would use against Sparrow, she had known that as she watched him row away from her in his little boat as she sat on that godforsaken island. She would find a way to reign Barbossa and hisneed for vengeance in no time at all, that she was sure of. She'd spent enough time around men like him to know how to get her own way with them. But, for now . . .

"Better than any of theirs, Capitán." She replied, eyes darting to the pirate with a small smile on her lips.

She'd get what she wanted, in time. Of that she was certain. All she needed to do was figure out how.