Ok, this took a little longer than I expected and was meant to be longer, but here is the next chapter as promised. (Wow, I can't believe I actually made a deadline for once)

Gillette had never been comfortable at social functions such as this one. The fact that the ceremony and subsequent entertainment was in his honor did nothing to lessen his nervousness; he could not shake the feeling that the unwed young women of Port Royal were eyeing him hungrily, watching him with gazes sharper than a peregrine hawk's. He had retreated to the parapet overlooking the harbor in a momentary attempt at escape when he was made conscious of Theo's presence.

"Care for a drink, old man?" The voice came from behind him and the shock nearly knocked him over; he clutched at the stone battlement, his reflexes barely saving him.

"Theo!" he hissed, rounding on his friend. "Have a care, you imbecile!" Groves grinned at him lazily, holding out a glass of wine which Gillette took grudgingly.

"I'm gone for six months and this is what I return to," Theo said, his voice tinged with irony. "Besides, I wouldn't have let you fall." Gillette rolled his eyes as Groves stepped up onto the battlements to join him.

"A fine consolation," he muttered. "You would save me from the rocks to turn me back over to the vultures!" Theo laughed; his mirth, however, did not travel to his eyes and abruptly Gillette remembered that his friend had, in fact, been gone for six months.

"Where have you been, Theo?" he asked quietly after a moment's glance over his shoulder. Groves performed a similar check before answering.

"Santo Domingo," he replied. "I've been searching the plantations in between – well, you can guess." Andrew nodded.

"Anything?" he asked. Groves sighed heavily and leaned against the battlement.

"We're so close, Andrew," he said, his tone half fatigue and half frustration. "The colony is small enough – I should have been able to find him within a week. But of course it's all dinner parties and bloody horses and delicate questions about slaves who speak Latin!"

"Latin?"

"I've been telling them I have a son who needs a tutor and I'd rather not hire another servant," Groves explained moodily. "The problem is that I never get a good look at the field slaves. If they've put him in the fields then I may have passed him over already." He stared bleakly out to sea, clearly thinking that he might have left his friend in Spanish hands.

"Theo," Gillette started, "if you can't…"

"I'll find him," Groves snapped. "I'm not leaving him there." There was steel in his voice and Andrew did not argue any further. The word impossible was not in Theo's vocabulary when he got like this; Andrew only worried that his friend would do something precipitous in the course of his endeavors.

"Have you reported to the Admiral yet?" he asked instead. The younger man shook his head.

"I'll slip away later," he said with a shrug. He levered himself away from the stonework and faced his friend. "I should probably circulate a bit before people start talking," he said. "I'll meet you later for a celebratory pint." Gillette nodded and watched his friend weave his way back into the crowd for a moment before turning back toward the sea.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" This time the voice was female and, though somewhat strained, still familiar.

"Not at all, Miss Swann." The young woman seemed to mount the battlements with some difficulty; she steadied herself against the stones much as Gillette had done only moments earlier. "Are you quite alright, Miss Swann?" Gillette asked, a frown creasing his brow. She nodded, taking deep breaths.

"I only – needed some air," she managed. "I see Leftenant Groves has returned." Gillette nodded, turning away a little. "Have there been - any signs?" Gillette stiffened, shocked. Elizabeth was not supposed to know that they were looking for James – only the Governor, Groves, and certain Admirals knew of Groves' two-fold mission in Santo Domingo, or so Gillette had thought. Of course, he reflected, Elizabeth Swann had never been one to abide by rules; she had likely been listening outside her father's study when Gillette had told him of their plan. Best to accept her meddling then, he decided, since she already knew; after all, James had been a friend to them both.

"No, there haven't," he answered. When he turned back, however, there was no sign of Elizabeth. Frowning, he half-turned, expecting to see her somewhere in the crowd.

"Miss Swann?" There was an abrupt splashing sound below him, turning his attention back to the battlements and more particularly the rocks below. With a sudden twinge of horror, he realized where his companion had disappeared to. "Elizabeth!" he shouted, bringing an abrupt stop to the music.

Farther away, a pirate watched the young woman fall. Seeing perhaps his only chance out of the mess he'd gotten into, he sprang into action.

"Will you be saving her, then?" he asked the marines on either side of him.

"I can't swim," one answered.

"Pearl of the King's Navy you are," the pirate replied scornfully, already jerking off his coat, hat, and sword-belt. "Do not lose these." With that he dove into the water below, just in time to feel the current change.

Reviews are to me what gold is to a pirate. That's all I'm saying.