Oh, My, God…I'M BACK! As Huey would say, ahem, "I'm excited!", and as Rove would say, "WHAT THE!", and as Steve Carell would say, "LET'S ALL PILE INTO THE MINIVAN AND GET SOME FROZEN YOGURT!"…….yeah…that last one was…yeah…

SEQUEL…yay! What do you think of the title…I'll ask again when the title actually makes sense so don't bother replying. Hopefully I'll get at least seven reviews for this chapter, and I shan't update until I do (pouts). Okay, hope you enjoy, if you do, then review, if ya don't then I'll have my people call your people…

Alright readers…now it's personal…

Disclaimer: (And this is where the story REALLY starts) I must confess that all the other times I said I own PotC, I lied…

Bad Day

'Oi! Pirate! Think quick!'

Tara glanced back as a rock came flying in her direction. It missed, by several feet to her left.

'Why!' she called back lazily. 'Shouldn't I be more worried if you're aiming for the person next to me!'

The boy who threw the rock scowled then retreated, with a nod to his buddies, signalling to do the same. Tara smiled with satisfaction. She wrapped her heavy, black cloak around her and surveyed the landscape. Down the hill she could see the Port and the grey water, the high, sea waves rolling onto the shore, all the while reflecting the ominous looking sky above. She peered up as large raindrops began to fall and for a split-second, considered returning home, before deciding otherwise. She turned and hurried into the maze of dark alleys, her magenta and aqua dress billowing slightly in the wind.

She slowed once in the maze. The buildings here were so close together that they blocked off most of the rain. An, eerie, loud thud echoed in the silence, a dog barked, the wind howled through its many tunnels. Tara pulled her hood over her head and turned off to the right. She slid down a set of stairs and through an archway before pausing to look up at the sign above a door. "W. Turner: Blacksmith". The rain was pouring down heavily now and without further hesitation, she pushed open the door and sidled inside.

Will looked up from the anvil as she entered.

'Hello Tara,' he said looking back down at his current work.

Tara pulled down her hood. 'Oh, I like this.'

He looked up again. 'What?'

'It's dry,' she replied, 'it's pouring out there.'

'It is fascinating weather for summer,' Will murmured thoughtfully.

'Yeah, fascinating, tell that to the Time Keepers, clocks are stopping all over town…' She paused.

'Is there a reason you decided to leave the dryness of the Mansion, or just pointless wandering?'

Tara shuddered dramatically. 'Eek, "wandering". Whenever I hear that I get chills. Actually, I…umm…there was a little…accident…'

Will looked up curiously. 'Wait, let me guess. You finally killed the Commodore?'

She sighed. ' 'Fraid not, although that would certainly brighten up the day. In reality…' She drew a large, sword with a curved handle from its sheath at her waist, where the cloak had concealed it. As she did so, the sword fell apart. The blade separated completely from the handle and shattered like glass on the ground.

Will stared down at the remnants in shock. 'A little accident…' he echoed, nonplussed.

'Well…I was going to say that the handle was broken,' Tara said softly, gazing at the glass-like metal at her feet, then added (to what seemed like the shards themselves) 'but then you had to go ruin it.' She looked up at Will, hopelessly, 'You can't fix it, can you?'

Will shook his head. 'I'm sorry. I cannot fix…shards.'

Tara couldn't help the feeling of sad disappointment. She tossed the handle into the heap of scrap metal near the fire with a sigh. 'It's just not my day.' She turned back to the door. As soon as she opened it, there was a clasp of lightning and thunder from above.

'Do you think someone's trying to tell me something?' she asked Will, pulling her hood over her head again.

Will watched her go, smiling slightly to himself. Then he looked back at the handle she'd thrown into the pile, an idea already forming itself in his head.

xXx

Tara waited for several minutes, hoping that the rain would stop. It didn't. In fact, it got even worse. There was nothing else for it, if she wanted to get home, she'd have to get wet first, not that she didn't delay it as much as she possibly could.

She stopped everywhere she could think of and by the time she got back to the mansion, she'd missed dinner.

'Where've you been!' screeched the fussy old maid, Maria as Tara stood on the threshold while the butler took her cloak. 'Look at the state of you! Soaked to the bone! Your Uncle's not happy, neither's your cousin!' Maria continued to screech in the bathhouse behind the mansion while she poured hot water on Tara's head.

'You're already pale and tired-looking as it is! What would your mother have thought if you'd met an early grave!' Maria snapped, finally tossing her a towel and hanging up her wet clothes.

'She'd think I'd been swimming,' Tara muttered in her breath, 'you crazy old bat…'

'What was that!'

'They're dripping on the mat,' Tara covered, nodding at the soaked clothes before going behind the clothes screen to change for a late dinner.

xXx

Late that night, Tara sat in a winged armchair in front of the fireplace in her bedroom. She was reading Selected Poetry, puzzling over a piece called The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri.

To run o'er better waters hoists its sail

The little vessel of my genius now,

That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel;

What is that supposed to mean? She thought wearily. After several more minutes, she gave up and put the book down. She stared miserably at the burning fire as it shrunk; smaller and smaller, until only embers remained. The mantle clock read half-past one in the morning, but it was nothing surprising. Late nights were common for Tara these days. Then again, she didn't trust clocks anymore. Most of them had been running behind for the past few weeks.

It had been four months now, since Tara's father had left. During those four months, Tara had found herself desperately hoping that the dark ship on the horizon would be his, but it never was, and the disappointment of that was almost too much to bear.

' "I'll be back soon",' Tara muttered to herself bitterly, rising from the chair and walking to the open balcony doors. 'How soon is soon, Jack?'

The landscape brightened suddenly, as the grey clouds finally parted to give way to the glorious light of the full moon. The water in the cove sparkled like a thousand diamonds suspended over a deep abyss in the Earth's surface.

She suddenly realised she was holding her breath. She exhaled and turned away from the balcony, peering around the now dark room. Recognising the lateness, she got into bed and fell into an uncomfortable, restless sleep.