Disclaimer: I do not own Fable, but what wouldn't I give to own Reaver?

Author's Memorandum: Thank you very much for those of you who have decided to come along for the journey as I revise IW&L. You have no idea how much it means to me. I am overwhelmed by your support. But enough of my yammering. On with the story!

Chapter Two

Return of the King

Mist still hung heavily in the air, obscuring most of the coastline ahead, but it mattered not to one born from the sea. The Pirate King inhaled deeply, the tangy salt in the breeze clearing his lungs and his mind. Soon he would be home, and he was looking forward to it. It had been too long. As diverting as Samarkand had been, he had come to miss the sheer anarchy and licentiousness of Bloodstone. Come to that, should he not be able to smell the stale scent of booze and unwashed humanity even from here? He shrugged. No matter. He would be lost in cheap liquor and even cheaper women soon enough.

The Pirate wandered back to his cabin to perform his morning ablutions, and after he'd bathed, his cabin boy served him a light repast as he donned fresh clothes. Despite his relaxed demeanor, the Pirate could feel an eagerness building inside him. Perhaps I'll host a party in my honor once I'm settled back in my manor, he mused as he returned above deck. The ship was just entering the harbor while the sea mist slowly cleared, evaporating in the burn of the morning sun.

His eyes looked around eagerly, but as he took in the sights before him, Reaver frowned. This wasn't Bloodstone. It couldn't be. It was too… clean. The polished houses, quaint shops, and foot-worn cobblestones along the boardwalk resembled nothing of his brawling, sprawling Bloodstone.

What is the meaning of this?

Turning to his current first mate, who turned white as a sheet under the Pirate's sudden and clearly displeased scrutiny, Reaver casually asked, "Heraldo, where have we made port?"

The man gave his crew-mates a brief, apprehensive look before gulping and facing his Captain. "Bloodstone, Sir."

In a flash of powder and smoke, Heraldo dropped to his knees before collapsing to the deck, dark blood pooling around him. Reaver turned his pistol to the next nearest crew mate and calmly posed the same question.

"We're in Bloodstone, Captain. Honest! You can e-even ask the dockworker there." He quailed for a second under Reaver's gaze before his superior nodded and holstered his weapon. Leaning over the guardrail, Reaver hailed a young lad. The boy was dressed in peasant's clothing and carrying a coil of rope over one shoulder.

"You there, lad, where have we made port?"

"This here is the fine town of Bloodstone, sir," the boy answered brightly. "Have you come to trade?"

Reaver frowned. What the devil is going on here? Who has done this to my beloved Bloodstone? He intended to get some answers one way or another.

"Aye. I take it there is someone in charge here?" he queried. The lad nodded. Good enough for the Pirate. Turning to his men he barked, "Secure these docks. Line up everyone here on the boardwalk. I need to send a message to whomever thinks to claim my town."

It was mid-morning and Sparrow was had almost finished her morning patrol. She had just left the Children of Avo which was, in her opinion, one of her best accomplishments; it had once housed the most popular brothel in town, but during her first year as mayor she had converted it into an orphanage. Sparrow had funded the project herself, and continued to do so, having decided long ago that she wanted no orphan to know a moment's starvation and hopelessness the way she and her sister had throughout her childhood. Humming to herself, she resumed her patrol, making her way down the sloping hill toward the harbor and waving to those residents who greeted her. She was almost halfway to the docks when a young lad, looking frightened out of his wits, hastened up to her, heaving as though he'd run all the way from Westcliff and babbling frantically until she could calm him down enough to make sense.

"Kieran, what is the problem, lad?"

He looked at her with panicked eyes. "Pirates, m'lady! They've taken the harbor! Everyone has been captured. My dad is with them!"

Stiffening, she hailed the nearest guard, who came running over to them, and gave him swift orders. "Go up to the guard house, alert the Sheriff that pirates are attacking. Tell him to protect the rest of the town," she said. Then she turned back to the boy and said more gently, "Don't be afraid, Kieran. I'll keep your father safe. I want you to go home and wait for your parents there."

The boy nodded his head repeatedly, then took off up the hill.

Sparrow set a course for the docks, drawing her Nightwatch .44from its holster as she ran. Long minutes passed before the boardwalk came in sight, and she paused behind a group of shipping crates to assess the situation. Indeed, several pirates were occupying the boardwalk, at least thirty of them. They seemed to have gathered up as many of her citizens as they could, and had them lined up along their docks, kneeling with their hands behind their head. Their leader, a tall man dressed in flamboyant red and gold clothing, was pacing back and forth before them, aiming his pistol at each of them in turn. The more she watched the man, the more a strange prickling seemed to travel up her spine, and as she watched the sunlight shining off his golden-brown hair, she felt a moment of recognition.

It couldn't be, she thought to herself. The leader seemed to have singled out one of the hostages. It was Patrick, a simple carpenter, and he seemed terrified as he stared down the barrel of the pirate's pistol. Pushing her thoughts aside, she pressed closer, leveling her pistol carefully before squeezing the trigger.

The gun's report was barely audible, the weapon having been designed for stealth, but the Pirate King's keen hearing picked it up regardless. The sound of it was instantly recognizable to him, but for some unfathomable reason, he failed to react. In a flash the bullet impacted with the side of his pistol, shattering into dozens of shrapnel fragments as his weapon flew from his fingers. There was dead silence as everyone present watched in horrified fascination as the Pirate King's prized Dragonstomper .48arced through the air and landed with an undignified plunkseveral yards out into the harbor.

Belatedly tearing his eyes from the kneeling man, Reaver locked eyes with his adversary, tension rising between them so sharply that pirate and villager alike backed away from the spectacle, eager notto get caught between them.

Sparrow didn't move, nor did she lower her weapon, but kept it trained on Reaver, her eyes hard with contempt. "On what grounds do you attack my town, Pirate King?"

Something in her voice jarred his memory. He glanced her over more thoroughly, taking in the smooth skin that boasted of youth and vibrancy. Her coltish, long-legged figure was held with pride bordering on arrogance, challenging both him and any knave foolish enough to defy her. Her chestnut-colored hair was elegantly pulled back, but he had a sudden vision of it flowing free and tousled in the sea breeze.

"Sparrow?" he mused aloud, hardly believing his eyes. How was this possible? She looked younger than she had the day he'd met her! "By the Shadow Court, it is you! After all this time how is it you stand before me as a youth? Cut a deal of your own, did you?" he asked slyly.

She gave him a hard smile. "Never. Myagelessness is the will of Avo and the Light. Apparently selflessness is just as worthy as selfishness, in the grand scheme of things. Now answer my question, Pirate, before I'm forced to spill your brains across the boardwalk."

Reaver scowled, immediately remembering his previous anger. "Very well, if you mustknow, I came to reclaim my home, but instead I found" – he gestured violently at the houses and shops – "this," he spat, making the word sound more filthy and vulgar than any obscenity.

Sparrow arched an eyebrow. "And?"

Reaver glared at her. "And? And? And just whathas happened to my beautiful, lawless Bloodstone? This was my coastal paradise. Now look at it. Not a whore or brigand in sight."

"I'm what happened, Pirate," Sparrow said pleasantly.

"You?" he scoffed, clearly incensed. "You daredto do this?" He stepped toward Sparrow aggressively, but was forced to a pause when the thundering of footsteps sounded behind her. In seconds a unit of guards in formation stood behind their Mayor, weapons drawn. They were headed by Sheriff Sedgewick, an aged but muscular man. He had served as a guard in Bowerstone for thirty years before coming to Bloodstone to help bring law and order to the place.

"I see you've got the situation well in hand," Sedgewick said dryly, smiling under his pure-white, neatly-groomed mustache.

"Indeed. And you have secured the town?" she asked.

"Of course, ma'am."

She nodded and addressed the Pirate. "You have been gone a long time, Pirate King. Things have changed around here. For instance, threatening a man's life and holding half my town hostage is a serious criminal offense. I'm going to have to take to take you and your men into custody. And before you argue" – she cut him off as he clearly had every intention of doing just that – "please remember you are unarmed, outnumbered, and in no position to object."

Reaver laughed. A true, mirth-filled laugh. "Oh, very well Sparrow, it is clear you have me 'cornered and outgunned'. Speaking of guns, do you think you could at least have one of these strapping young lads dive into the briny and fish mine out?"

Partially turning her face to Sedgewick while keeping her eyes on Reaver, she said, "Once we have his men into custody send one of themdown for it." Her sheriff nodded, and she returned her full attention to Reaver. She held out her hand to Sedgewick, who handed her a pair of shackles.

Approaching Reaver, she took his wrists.

"Oh, I didn't know you to be thisadventurous, Sparrow," he purred. "To be honest, I think these would look much better on you."

With a hard smile, she tightened the first shackle until he winced. The second she reached for his other hand, he grabbed her, spinning her around as he wrapped the chains between his shackles around her neck. Reacting on instinct, Sparrow kept spinning until she was facing him once more, ignoring the tightening of the sturdy chain. The triumph in Reaver's eyes faded as he felt the cold steel of her Nightwatchpressed against the underside of his jaw.

"Well played," he drawled with a forced smile. She cocked the hammer for emphasis, her eyes blazing. Reaver swallowed hard and grudgingly released the tension in the chain.

As soon as she was free, she motioned Sedgewick forward, and together they took a firm hold of the Pirate and cuffed his hands behind his back. When that was completed, she turned to the villagers. "Everyone please return to your homes until otherwise notified," she said in a loud, calm voice. Turning to her guards, she added, "Secure the rest of them. If they resist, shoot them. We show no mercy for pirates."

Together, she and Sedgewick dragged Reaver up the sloping road to the small jailhouse. Though it was hardly ever used, Sparrow was glad now that she'd had one build. After they'd forced him into a cell, she ordered two guards to thoroughly check the pirate for any other weapons – a process he seemed to enjoy a little too much – before they locked him inside. Just as she was about to leave the jailhouse, the Pirate's voice stopped her.

"Sparrow, you can't seriously mean to leave me in here," he pleaded.

"That is exactly what I mean to do," Sparrow said, "at least until I can set up the trial."

The Pirate King looked stunned. "A trial? Surely that's not necessary."

Sparrow stared at him. "You are the most infamous pirate to sail the nine seas. You attacked my town. Add in the fact that the bounty on your head is worth more gold than this town sees in a fiscal year, and you can hardly be surprised. What were you expecting? A room at our most luxurious inn and a bottle of our finest wine?"

"Well, I wouldn't have turned it down," Reaver said. Sparrow rolled her eyes and started to walk away again. "Wait!" he called. "Come on, Sparrow, be reasonable. It's not like I killed anyone."

"That changes nothing," Sparrow said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to send letters to the other leaders of Albion."

With that Sparrow left the prison, Sedgewick trailing behind her. As soon as the door was shut and they'd walked several feet away, she addressed her sheriff. "I want a 'round the clock guard detail. Noneof them are to be armed, do I make myself clear? Reaver is as wily as he is vicious. I don't there to be any opportunity for him to pilfer a weapon."

Sedgewick nodded, looking concerned.

"What's wrong?" Sparrow asked.

"Before we retook the harbor, I heard talk among the guard," he began.

"And?" Sparrow prompted.

"As you'll recall, many of them, as well as the townspeople, were his subjects," Sedgewick said. "Some even served aboard his ship. Understandably, there are many who fear his wrath, and still others who believe he has come to restore the old ways."

Sparrow internally flinched at the thought. It pained her to know that after all she'd done for Bloodstone, not all embraced her rule. She couldn't imagine what more she could have done to win them over. Regardless, there was no way she was going to step aside so the Pirate King and a few malcontents could destroy everything she'd accomplished.

"So what do you recommend?" she asked. "We can't leave him unguarded."

"He must be heavily restrained," Sedgewick thoughtfully, "and the guard duty should be split between you, Daniels, and myself."

Sparrow nodded. "Very well. Restraining him further will be no easy matter. I don't want this turning into a tussle. That will only give him the chance to either injure one of us or even escape. I suggest we pay a visit to the apothecary."

The aging Sheriff nodded again. "My thoughts exactly. I'll go myself. You'll stay with him?"

Sparrow nodded, then grudgingly turned back to the jailhouse. Reaver was eyeing her with an amused smile when she reentered.

"Reconsidered, have you?" he said imperiously. "I knew you'd come to your senses. Of course, I'll expect a public apology."

"Deluded as ever," Sparrow said. "Some things never change."

"I prefer to think of myself as optimistic," Reaver said pleasantly. "If you're not going to release me, why have you returned?"

"Sheriff Sedgewick is setting up your guard detail," she lied. "It falls to me to watch you until he returns."

The Pirate scowled. "Just how long must we keep up this charade? We both know you're not actually going to have me brought up on charges."

Deciding not to dignify him with a response, Sparrow sat herself behind Sedgewick's desk, but before she could get comfortable Daniels barged into the jailhouse, worry clearly written on his face. When he saw Reaver behind bars, he looked stunned. "So the rumors among the guard were true. Yeh've returned." He then turned to his Captain angrily. "What were yeh thinking, facing down the Pirate King without any sort of backup? Capt'n?"

Sparrow almost laughed at the idea that she would have done it any differently. "Oh come on, Daniels, give me some credit. I've got the man locked up behind iron bars."

Her Commander did not look appeased. "Yeh coulda been killed."

"But I wasn't," she said seriously. "No one was. If I had waited for backup, that might not have been the case."

Daniels gave Reaver a hard glare. The Pirate smiled suggestively back at him.

"Yeh should 'ave the wretched pirate hanged," Daniels said coldly, and in spite of everything, his attitude made Sparrow smile. It was good to know that even in Reaver's presence, he was still squarely in her corner.

"In all likelihood he will be," Sparrow said. "But not without a trial. Given that his crimes stretch across the length and breadth of Albion, I must confer with the mayors of Westcliff, Oakfield, Brightwood, and Bowerstone. Most likely they'll come here and the five of us will hold a trial.

Daniels scoffed. "Why bother? There's no question of his guilt."

"Because we are not heathens," Sparrow said sharply. "Guilty though he may be, we must uphold the law. He has a right to a trial, and so he shall have one."

Daniels held his silence, and Sparrow leaned forward across the desk. "Since I'm holed up here, I'd like you to check on the town."

Daniels nodded and left the jailhouse, clearly displeased over his commanding officer's decision.

The Pirate, meanwhile, was standing at the barred window of his cell, his nose wrinkled in distaste as he looked out over the town.

"I must say, little Sparrow, I don't much care for what you've done with the place," he said.

Sparrow glared at him. She did not like having him here, even if he was behind bars. She'd had no desire whatsoever to see this man again. He was a relic of her past; he had been part of her ten-year quest to avenge her sister, even if he'd only come into the picture at the very end, she didn't need any reminders of those days.

"Reaver, what are you doing here?" she asked with sudden exasperation. "Why did you have to come back?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, looking surprised at her tone. "Well, as you know, I have some friends around these parts to whom I owe a debt. I had hoped to spend some leisure time in my manor throwing decadent parties or even taking a stroll down to the Blue Lagoon, but I expect that's quite impossible now, isn't it."

She nodded. "Indeed. It's an orphanage now."

Reaver snorted. "Of course it is." He shook his head and continued on. "I had no idea I would find youof all people running things here. I assumed some lesser pirate would step into my shoes and hold down the fort. Never did I imagine that anyone would come along and actually bring order to this place."

"Well, I did," Sparrow said.

"So I see," he said, looking out the window again.

At that moment Sheriff Sedgewick returned, and Sparrow quickly stood from the chair. "Sedgewick. I assume you've arranged everything."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Good," she said, quickly stepping around him. "I need to head back to my office to send those letters to the other mayors."

Sedgewick nodded and Sparrow eagerly left the jailhouse, happy to escape the pirate's presence.

Late that evening Commander Daniels found his captain still working at her desk, although 'working' might not have been the right word for it. She was sitting almost completely still, staring out one of the windows, biting her lip as she scratched absently at a sheet of parchment with her quill.

"Cap'n?" he said uncertainly, as she hadn't yet acknowledged his presence.

Her attention snapped to him, and she stood from behind her desk. "Daniels," she said sharply. "What news?"

"I sent out those missives by ship, just as yeh ordered," he said.

"And the prisoner?" she asked.

"Sedgewick slipped him a sleeping draught in his wine. Put the pirate out before he could finish his evening meal," Daniels said, sounding pleased. "We restrained him in a chair after that, using the sturdiest steel shackles the blacksmith had on supply. 'E willna be goin' anywhere anytime soon."

Sparrow nodded. "Good work. I take it Sedgewick has been on guard all day?" Daniels nodded. "Very well. I'll guard him tonight if you'll take the morning shift tomorrow."

"Aye, Cap'n," he said. "I'll bid yeh goodnight."

He left, and Sparrow forced herself to pack up the paperwork she'd barely made any headway on and took it with her down to the jailhouse; she'd need something to keep herself occupied in the long hours ahead.

Her first urge upon entering the jailhouse was to burst out laughing. She restrained the impulse, but she couldn't help the smirk that played about her lips. Daniels said they had restrained the Pirate. That was a vast understatement. He sat in a large, metal chair with his wrists and ankles restrained to the arms and legs of the chair. There were chains wrapped around his torso, holding him to the back of the chair, and a leather strap holding his head to the headrest.

Reaver, for his part, was watching her with cold eyes that promised swift and bloody retribution.

Drat, she thought to herself. She had been hoping her would still be asleep. Then at least she would have some peace while she worked.

"My lady," the Sheriff said, drawing her attention to him. "I'm hoping our security measures meet with your approval?"

Sparrow's lips trembled in spite of herself, and Reaver's glare intensified, as though he was daring her to laugh.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Sedgewick," she said in the most neutral voice she could manage.

"Will you require anything else before I retire?" he asked.

"No, thank you."

With a salute, Sedgewick left her with the prisoner, and Sparrow set her stack of paperwork down on the Sheriff's desk and took her seat. It seemed that paperwork was a never ending chore in her line of work, but she was glad she had it now. Otherwise she'd be stuck here with the Pirate with nothing to do.

Of course, getting him to be quite so she could work in peace was another challenge all together.

"I hope you're relishing this victory," the Pirate said silkily.

"I'd relish your silence even more," Sparrow said pleasantly.

"Then you should have gagged me."

"It's still an option."

The Pirate went quiet for a few moments. Then, "Was this really necessary?"

Sparrow continued to write, refusing give him any personal acknowledgment as she answered. "Obviously it was."

"Afraid I would escape and make you pay for this humiliation?"

"I do not fear you."

"Oh, I think you do," Reaver said. "You fear what will happen when I escape."

"If there was any chance of that, it's gone now. You will face the justice so you richly deserve."

"Come now, Sparrow," Reaver said. "Would you really put me to death? We've fought together in the Black Spire, side by side. That makes us – why, it makes us comrades-in-arms! Without me, you never would have been able to wreak your revenge on old Lord What's-His-Name."

"We needed you whether or not I wanted you there" Sparrow said. "And you went along with it because Lucien didn't give you much choice in the matter. It had nothing to do with me."

"Oh, details," Reaver said pleasantly. "Why ruin a good memory by getting bogged down in the hows and whys?"

Sparrow did not dignify him with an answer. Good memory, indeed.

There were a few more minutes of silence, punctuated only by the scratching of her quill, then the Pirate tried again.

"There is one important matter we need to discuss," he said.

"And what is that?" she asked, keeping her voice distant and uninterested.

"My debt."

"To society?"

"To the Shadow Court."

"I didn't realize that was important, nor that we needed to discuss it."

"It is important, at least if you wish to have me around long enough to stand trial."

For the first time, Sparrow looked up at him.

"Explain."

Looking smug, Reaver adjusted himself in his chair as much as his restraints would allow before continuing. "As you know, I struck a bargain with the Shadow Court many, many decades ago. And every ten years I must offer them a sacrifice of youth to maintain my own."

"So you'll get old if you don't pay it," Sparrow said. "I hardly see how this is my problem."

"I'll do more than age, Sparrow darling," he said patronizingly. "If I don't make my payment in full and on time, the Shadow Court will come for me, and then your trial will be moot."

Sparrow leveled him with a glare. "It would be no less than you deserve."

"Maybe," Reaver conceded. "But you said yourself that I deserve a fair trial, no matter what I've done. To knowingly allow my demise at the hands of the Shadow Court, why, it would be no better than if you executed me yourself this very moment. And then what? Where's the justice in that? I thought you told your man that you weren't heathens, that I deserved a fair hearing. It is the law."

Sparrow cursed under her breath. The Pirate had a point, as much as she hated to admit it. But she wasn't ready to give in. "There is no justice if I allow you to sacrifice another unknowing innocent."

Reaver scoffed. "It's not like the man is going to die, Sparrow. He'll have his youth sapped away from him, but he will survive. And he won't be unknowing, or even unwilling. I have a volunteer."

"A volunteer?" she said incredulously. "Why would anyone volunteer to have their youth and vitality sapped away so you could keep yours?"

"Oh, come now, Sparrow," Reaver said. "My crew, though able-bodied and competent, are a simple and superstitious lot, as most sailors are. They don't sail with me just for the plunder. They follow me because I'm a living legend. They've seen what I can do, and they revere me for my abilities. Why, I'm practically a god to them. Any one of themselves would sacrifice themselves for me without hesitation."

Sparrow rolled her eyes. "Alright, so you've talked one of them into going to the Shadow Court for you. What is it you want from me, then? My blessing?"

"In a sense," Reaver said. "The man is currently in your custody. I would need you to release him, at least long enough for him to fulfill his duty."

"And say I do that," Sparrow said. "I'm not saying I will, but say I do. Will your man be able to make is through Wraithmarsh, and then survive the trip back in the condition he'll be in?"

"Well, I was going to take him myself, but thanks to you, it doesn't seem like that will be happening."

"So you want me to take him."

Reaver smiled. "Well, it would only be right. It is thanks to you that I can't take him myself."

Sparrow didn't answer him, but went back to her paperwork as she thought it over. Reaver was right. If she allowed him to be taken by the Shadow Court, especially when there was a man who would willingly go for him, it would be no different than if she killed him herself. As much as it rankled her to allow this to happen, she knew she would never sleep again if she just stepped aside and allowed Reaver to be taken by the Shadows.

He brought this on himself, a voice in her head argued. Neither you nor hissacrifice owe him anything. That was true. But a part of her didfeel like she owed him something. He had fought beside her, no matter what the circumstances. If he hadn't, she never would have had her revenge on Lucien. And it wasn't as if he was asking her to sacrifice one of her own citizens, or some other unknowing innocent. One of his own crew, a scoundrel of a pirate, was volunteering to go. All she had to do was escort the man. Then Reaver would stand trial, as would the rest of his crew, and all of them would be put to death anyway.

Swallowing hard, she finally nodded. "Very well," she said. "I will escort your volunteer."

Reaver gave her a patronizing smile. "Thank you," he said, although his tone conveyed no gratitude whatsoever. "If you wouldn't mind, I have one other request."

"I'm am not obligated to grant you anything, but go on."

"I want to accompany you to the Shadow Court."

"Out of the question," Sparrow said immediately. There was no way she was going to release Reaver from his prison and go gallivanting with him through Wraithmarsh. "It's too high of a risk. I need to be focused on the dangers of the Marsh, and not on keeping you in line."

Reaver shrugged. "You're a noble, trustworthy soul, Sparrow, and as such I can't trust you go without me. It's my soul on the line here. You might have an attack of conscience halfway through and I need to make sure this delivery takes place." When Sparrow looked as though she still might deny him, he added, "Keep me shackled, if you must. My life is in your hands already. What difference will it make if it's here or in the Marsh?"

She scowled. "Fine. We'll leave in a few days. A trip through the fen and back can take a full day, and I'll need time to make the preparations." She leaned back in her chair, grumbling to herself, and the Pirate wisely chose to maintain his silence. After a while she went back to her paperwork. She could feel the Pirate watching her, scrutinizing her, and it set her teeth on edge.

"What?" she snapped.

"Is that what you intend to do all night?" he asked. "Being mayor must have changed since I was here last. I never would have been caught up in such drudgery."

She sniffed with an air of annoyance. "Yes, well, look at the state the town was in when you were here last. Keeping Bloodstone prosperous takes some work, and yes, some drudgery, but at least it's not the cesspool that it was when I found it."

"Work, work, work," he groused. "Is that all you do, Sparrow? I remember a time when you were a fresh young Hero, hell bent on revenge, of course, but still treating life as an adventure."

"Oh shut it, Reaver," she snapped, annoyed at his comment. When she'd met Reaver, she'd been anything but a fresh, young Hero; she'd been a traumatized young woman fresh out of the Spire. Far from an adventure, her life had been days upon days of violence and bloodshed, followed by long, restless nights through which she was tormented by her nightmares. "You know nothing at all about my life," she said quietly. Resuming her work, she did her best to ignore his bored sighs and moans. It wasn't long before he was interrupting her again.

"Was it reallynecessary to restrain me like this?" he asked.

"Is that a real question, or are you just asking to annoy me?"

He smirked again. Little Sparrow, he thought to himself. Though she was hardly so little anymore. She looked so young, but he could see she had become a fierce leader, almost his match in every way. Hell, she'd managed to capture him, and that said much about her. He watched his captor closely, reading the serious lines that would be etched into her face someday. She had changed much. Gone was the windblown hair and colorful, skimpy garments. Looking at her now, it was hard to envision her in those form-fitting legging that hugged her round bottom, that tight corset the forced her pretty breasts upward in a way that almost begged a man to play with them, and of course, those sleek boots that fitted so nicely to her long, shapely legs. In that moment, he felt an urge to tear away her restrictive, no-nonsense uniform and release her wild curls from the chignon atop her head, just to see a glimpse of the Sparrow from years past. Of course, that was quite impossible. She'd had him physically restrained so that he couldn't even scratch his own nose, and she was planning on having him executed. The very idea almost made him forget his kind thoughts toward her. He'd give anything at this moment to have their roles reversed, to have her bound to one of the masts on his ship, where she would be at hismercy. A mercy which he would deny. He would punish her for this, that much he promised himself. He would relish and savor every moment of it. Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would find a way to escape, and then he would teach her a lesson she would never forget,

Self-conscious under his intense scrutiny, Sparrow began to fidget and shift until finally her eyes flashed up to his, and she almost looked away. There was dark hunger in his eyes that had not been there minutes ago. A look so malicious that she almost flinched, but she refused to back down. Licking her lips, which had suddenly gone dry, she tried to glare him down. "Something you want to say?" she asked, forcing her tone to remain neutral.

Reaver watched her tongue trace the fullness of her lips until it disappeared back into her mouth, a mouth he imagined screaming for mercy, and for a moment he was so caught up in the fantasy that he almost missed her question. "You're so different. You hardly resemble the Sparrow I remember."

"And what of it?" she asked. "Do you know I am almost forty years old? No matter what I look like, I'm not a little girl running off on an adventure anymore. I have a town and ships and responsibilities."

"What good is any of that?" he scoffed. "Life is about enjoying every moment to its fullest."

She shook her head and tried to ignore him. He kept his eyes on her, chuckling to himself as she tried to pretend he didn't exist.

"So, I see you finally found a man," he said conversationally.

She stared at him for a moment but went back to filling out paperwork. "What are you prattling on about now?"

He smiled pleasantly. "The sailor boy. The one who practically wet himself over you facing the terrible Pirate King without him."

Sparrow blushed. "He's not my man, he's my Commander. And he was only concerned. He meant well."

"He seems quite smitten with you, though I can't see how that's possible," he said coolly.

Sparrow frowned at his sudden tone. "What is that supposed to mean? Just cause I don't go throwing myself at every man doesn't mean one can't fall in love with me."

"So then why isn'the your man?" When she didn't answer, he pressed on. "It's not like he's unwilling."

Her back stiffened. "That's none of your business."

He chuckled. "I see you sitting there, buried in your work and dressed in your gold nautical braid. But remember, I knew you before this. On the outside you play the part well, yet I see the spark in your eyes that says the real you is in there somewhere. Or is it just wishful thinking?" He smirked at her, but it was a mocking look. "Is that why he isn't your man? You have become cold? Only patsies such as your 'Mister Daniels' want a frigid bitch who can freeze his parts off, but could it be that you don't even have the heart in you to return his feelings?"

Sparrow looked into his changeable eyes, right now the color of a storm at sea, and spoke with a calm that surprised even her. "You may have known me once, Pirate, but like I said, a lot has changed. No matter what you may think, this is who I am now. We'll deal with your debt, like I promised, but we have nothing else to discuss beyond that. Speak another word between now and then, and I will have you gagged. Do I make myself clear?"

The Pirate obligingly pressed his lips together in a tight smile. Sparrow rolled her eyes and went back to work while the Pirate's eyes darkened, challenging all that she claimed.