When the stakes are high you have to be prepared to win big and loose big. As a gambler/con artist I have known this my whole life, but I don't think James Norrington realized it the night he met me. Or maybe when he met me, he didn't expect to be playing for such stakes: life changing stakes, but when you go about capturing someone and taking away their freedom, even if he had to because of the law, that you're playing for something that can make or break someone's life. The funny thing is after all that has happened between us, I'm not entirely sure if I've won or lost. Usually when you're dealt the winning hand you know, a royal straight flush means you've won, but I guess with higher stakes than 10 pounds or an article of clothing, the outcome of the pot becomes even harder to distinguish…but I'm guessing all this talk of poker and gambling isn't intriguing especially since it's a metaphor, so I suppose I should tell you the story so the whole metaphor makes sense. Well it all started some time ago, when I was in my prime and dead ready to make a fortune…

"You'll be hanged for perjury, extortion of money, and for your other crimes against the Crown by the end of the week, Miss Laroche," I managed to glare up at the prissy English-wanna-be from under my eyelashes. (I had tried to knife him earlier and the guard hadn't thought that was a good idea, so now my face was pressed against the floor by the guard's boot and the bayonet from his gun rested on my back just above where my hands were manacled behind me, so the whole glaring was rather pointless but it made me feel better so I continued to do it.)

"What am I supposed to do until the end of the week?" I asked with as much contempt as I could muster in said position. I had a biting retort but the damn man cut me off.

"Languish in prison I suppose." He stated calmly. He must have motioned to the guard because there was no longer a foot on my head and a knife at my back. I sat up awkwardly without the use of my arms. "It is no longer of my concern what happens to you, well, until the date of your hanging. Then I'll have to care and be there for your death." I think he was trying to intimidate me with this speech, but I had heard it all before plus obscenities and threats to rape me so I was used to the whole "you'll be sleeping with the fishes" speech.

I tried to let the defiance shine out of my eyes as I looked up into his, but there was something about the chocolate brown of Commander whats-'is-face that stopped my eyes from rebelling. Instead I was doing something I hadn't done unless it involved the sea, I was just gazing into the warm brown. I was staring. Nothing had so fully captured my attention since the ocean's blue depths had captivated me. I had no account for it, and now that I had been staring and thinking about why I had been starring I couldn't come up with a witty retort at the risk of sounding slow, so I sat there shamelessly staring into the beautiful eyes marron.

"Should I be expecting trouble from you, Miss Laroche?" he said it firmly but I could catch the hint of wonder in his voice. He was staring at me just as intently as I had been at him. He stood and walked over to where I was kneeling. I gracefully unfolded myself, having stood up thousands of times with hands chained behind me, and continued to look him in the eye.

"Oh undoubtedly," I whispered. He nodded to the guard still fixated on me and I him as I was dragged out the door. I shook my head to dispel the scene from my head. After all, in a couple of days I could end up dead, I didn't need to be thinking about a hoity-toity British Officer's eyes. Escape… that's where my thoughts needed to lie.