A/N: Happy Monday!... Yeah, I hate 'em too, but whatever. I can try. If it's already Tuesday by the time you're reading this... Lucky you, you... Monday-skipper! ...Okay, so I fail at jokes. But this chapter gives a bit more background to who exactly someone (not saying who) is.
And before I go, I'd like to give a big thanks to one of my reviewers, Drakarn. He/she (I'm not sure... Is that bad?) gave me a few good tips on writing, and has some pretty good stories as well.
Once again, please review. It helps me out; makes my writing better. And if you see any mistakes, let me know. On with the show!
~D/P
(Oh, and PS: There's an anime/manga reference in here, mainly a characters name. See if you can find it, as a challenge, though to be honest, it's not that hard to pick out. But still.)

Chapter IV
Memories

Sparrow's eyes flickered open. The light made her head pound, and she winced. It took her a moment to realize her hands were tied.

"What the hell…"

"Ah, awake at last, are we? That was some nasty blow you took on the head." Sparrow groaned and closed her eyes, feeling a wave of pain go through her head. She could hear Reaver laughing. "Well, maybe you can at least answer a question."

"Untie me first," Sparrow muttered.

"How about I just shoot you and get this all over with, hmm?"

Sparrow sighed and opened her eyes again. She found herself staring down the barrel of a loaded pistol. Her eyes closed again.

"Fine. Ask away, oh hero of skill."

"Why did you even bother returning if you knew I'd kill you?"

"You sure you want to know the answer to that?" Sparrow asked, opened her blue eyes again. She stared past the pistol, looking directly at Reaver. "I forgot about that nice note you left me, and I forgot about you. Everyone did, but I'm sure you reminded them just like you reminded me."

Reaver pulled the pistol away from her and recoiled, as if Sparrow had turned into a snake. A devious smile formed on Sparrows face, and he didn't like it.

"Being forgotten works wonders on one's mind, doesn't it?"

Reaver gave her no answer. He simply armed the pistol and put it to her head.

"I could kill you right now," he growled. The smile left Sparrows face, along with her confidence. "It'd be such a waste, putting a bullet in such a pretty face. Shame."

"Reaver, don't." Sparrow felt afraid of him for the first time in her life, and she was ready to beg for her life. The deep hate in Reaver's eyes scared her more than the gun pressed to her head, though. She had never seen that much hate.

His eyes narrowed, and Sparrow's words were just noise. He was determined to end her, no matter what she said to him. Her blue eyes, glazed over with forming tears, seemed to penetrate him.

Reaver took one last look at her, and pulled the trigger of his gun.

Joy and Logan left the boat around dawn, followed by Cora who was determined to stay at Joy's side. As the sun slowly moved up into the sky, the two of them took turns telling stories. Joy mostly spoke of the Crucible, only mentioning her family once or twice. Logan stuck to the times before he became a bandit, figuring a hero such as Joy wouldn't be too fond of hearing how he sold people off as slaves or murdered nobles for their money. Both kept part of their past a secret, for their own reasons.

When it came to the topic of Sparrow, however, Joy did the most talking. She told him how brave she was at the Crucible, and how kind she was to let her travel with her. Not once did she mention anything bad about the hero, though Logan figured she had her flaws somewhere.

It was when Joy began asking Logan how he knew Sparrow that Cora began acting strange. The dog growled in the general direction of the manor, and looked like it was going to attack a group of hobbes.

"What is it?" Joy asked, reaching out to stroke the dog. Cora turned and growled at her, and Joy pulled her hand away. "Wonder if someone just got shot…" she whispered, recalling the dog's reaction to gunshots. She turned back to Logan, and smiled. "So, you were saying?"

"She came into the camp and-"

A loud gunshot echoed through the city, and Logan immediately began running toward the manor. Joy followed, but grabbed his arm when he was in reach.

"Leave it alone!" she snapped. Logan turned to her to see her expression had grown rather dark and knowing. "No reason for you to get shot, too. Just ignore it."

"Like hell I will! What if that was Sparrow being shot at?"

"What if it was her doing the shooting?" Joy said. She knew that Sparrow had never fired a gun in her life, and that it was probably Reaver doing the shooting… but just because she was shot at, didn't mean she was dead. "If she doesn't come back by nightfall, we'll go look for her."

He never misses. It's crazy. The more impossible shot, the faster the crew surrenders. Now who had said that? Joy was sure she had heard something like that said, but she didn't remember who had said it.

He never misses.

Blood welled up on Sparrow's cheek. The bullet Reaver had fired only grazed her, and she was alive. Confused on why he had missed, Sparrow opened her eyes looking for any answers. What she saw only puzzled her more. Reaver stood, staring down at her with the exact same look in his green eyes he had when first seen her: curiosity.

"Why is it every time I try to kill you, something stops me…" he whispered.

Sparrow said nothing and stared back at him. He should have ended her! He missed a shot that a drunken man could have made! So why did he miss…

"If you're not going to kill me, then could you at least untie me?"

Reaver stood silent for a moment, as if he was thinking about it, then he spoke in his usual 'I-could-care-less-about-you' tone of voice.

"I think I should be able to trust you first. After all, you did try to kill me. Why should I trust you?"

Sparrow sighed and blinked a few times. Reaver still stared back at her.

"Well, are you going to stare at me all day or are you going to at least let me sleep?" she asked, annoyance hinting in her voice. "I'm not some strange animal, so stop looking at me like one!" Sparrow wondered if spitting in his face would get him to leave her alone.

"For once, my dear, you're right. I have to go organize another party for tonight, since it seems you ruined the last one."

Sparrow rolled her eyes and watched Reaver leave, shutting and locking the door behind him. She listened for him to leave the manor, and she heard the doors shut, she began pulling on the cloth that bound her to the bed.

She worked into a sitting position, and began undoing the knots with her teeth. When that didn't work, she used what will she could and pushed on the bed post. It cracked, but didn't break. She gave another push, and the wood split. With a hard yank the post snapped, and she now had use of one hand. The cloth and wood were still attached, but she would fix that soon.

With little effort, Sparrow untied the cloth from her other wrist, and cut away the rest with a decorative sword. The locked door was the last of her problems, and then she could at least talk to Reaver properly. Now all she had to do was unlock the door and change her clothes. Her old outfit was on the ship in her travel bag, but she kept spare clothes around the house. She opened one of the closets and pulled out her gypsy outfit. She changed quickly, and stuffed the dress back into the closet.

She looked at the sword she had in her hand, and shrugged. It would be too easy to just knock the door down. So Sparrow used the tip of the sword to pick the lock. Within minutes, the door opened and she was free… Until Reaver saw her, anyway. Sparrow had a feeling he wasn't going to let her leave quite that easily.

She walked down to the front entrance, hesitating to open the door. There were still things she had left in the study. Getting everything and leaving wouldn't take long, right?

Joy and Logan had taken to sitting at one of the tables outside of the pub, waiting for Sparrow. The pleasant chatting had stopped after a while, and the two sat in silence. Sparrow's dog, Cora, had run off to who-knows-where, probably to find her owner.

Joy hated silence, no matter how much she was used to it. Relief washed over her when she found a chance to speak again.

One of the local Bloodstone 'ladies', if they could even be called that, had been staring at Logan from behind for some time, and she now was flaunting over to him.

"Hey, why don't the two of us check in at the pub and-"

Joy stood up, pulling Logan's pistol out of its holster as she did.

"Piss off," she muttered, aiming the gun at her. The girl backed up, hiding her fear behind a smile. Logan grabbed Joy's arm, and she looked down at him. When he opened his mouth to speak, she yanked her arm away from him and stormed off, muttering to herself.

"What's wrong with her?" the Bloodstone lady asked. Logan shook his head and sighed.

"Not my girl, and clearly not my business."

Joy glanced back at Logan, only to see him talking to the wretch again. It wasn't like her to get angry over someone she just met- she was taught to be passive at a very young age. It had been the Crucible that had changed her in such a way. That, and knowing what she really was.

Joy looked up at the walls of the Crucible and trembled. The slaughter that went on in that place had been horrific, so she wondered how her family enjoyed it. Throughout the fight, everyone seemed to be rooting for the challenger to die. Joy had been forced to watch as the poor man was ripped to pieces by balverines. The announcers seemed nice enough when they cheered at the end of every round, but she thought twice when they took the death of the challenger as nothing more than a dead fly on the ground.

Her parents were already buying tickets for another 'game', and Joy refused to go anywhere near it. So she walked through the town, trying to brush off the dirty looks that some of the men gave her.

As she walked, she noticed the glint of metal on someone's back. A huge cleaver was tied to the back of someone at the pub, and Joy could make out the faded stains of blood. She stopped and stared for a bit too long; one of the bandit men had wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Hey! Get off of me!" she snapped, trying to pull away from him. The person with the cleaver turned, and much to Joy's surprise, it was a girl around her own age. "Stop it!"

The cleaver-girl approached, drawing her weapon. Her blue eyes, though dull, held nothing but hate. Joy watched her press the cleaver up against the man's neck.

"Let her go, unless she's the last face you want to see in this world."

The man let go of her without question, and backed away. The cleaver-girl replaced her weapon, and turned to Joy, who expected a 'you-should-be-more-careful-' line, and a small smile. She didn't get it.

"Rich people like you shouldn't be here if you can't defend yourselves. Go back to where you came from, and stop taking so much joy out of seeing people get slaughtered at the Crucible."

Joy opened her mouth to say something, but the cleaver-girl had stalked off back to her seat at the pub.

"JOY! Get over here now! I'm not letting you stay out here and waste the money we spent on this ticket!"

Joy winced at the sound of her father's voice, and walked slowly back toward the Crucible. The second she was in her father's range, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the building.

"Wait, daddy! I forgot something!"

Joy's father turned to her, letting her wrist go.

"Two minutes. That's all you get, then I want you back here."

Joy nodded and ran off toward one of the stalls. Almost every kind of weapon decorated the small booth, and Joy pulled out what money she had with her.

"You lookin' for a souvenir, girly?" the man running the stall asked her. Joy nodded, then shook her head. "Well, 'ich one is it?"

"I'm… entering the Crucible," Joy said quickly. "I need a- new weapon. Mine's too… uh… old?"

The man laughed and turned to the swords hanging from a rope in the back of the stall.

"Sword's alright?" he asked.

"No, I was actually looking for…" her voice trailed off for a moment as her eyes wandered. She saw what looked like a newly-made cleaver, and pointed to it. "That."

The man turned back and raised an eye brow.

"Really now… Ye look a bit too… young… for something like that."

"Well, it's what I want. How much?"

"For the master cleaver? Well… let me make you a deal, girly."

"My name's Joy," she muttered. 'Girly' made her sound like, well… a little kid, or something.

"Joy, right… If ye can survive the Crucible, ye get it fir free. Die, and well… I'll be doing some body searching."

All the color drained from Joy's face in less than two seconds, but she nodded her head in agreement anyway.

"Anythin' else, gir- Joy?" the man asked as he handed her the cleaver. Joy took her new weapon, a bit shocked at how light it was, and looked around the stall once more.

"That. The clockwork pistol."

The man nodded and gave her the pistol, again with no charge if she won. Joy took it and hooked it to the belt she wore around her blue dress. As she walked away, the man called to her.

"I'd get new clothes if ye plan on fighting in the Crucible, Joy!"

The new clothes were a bit harder to find, and her two minutes were up. She quickly found another stall that sold clothes, and bought a long-coat. There was no time for anything else, so she slipped it on over her new cleaver, and hurried back to her father.

"Ready daddy," she said, smiling at her glaring father. "Well, are we going or not?"

He gave a grunt in reply, and the two joined the rest of Joy's family at the gates. They all went in, and Joy sat as near to the doors as she could. When one of the announcers gave the 'five-minutes-'till-slaughter' call, Joy excused herself to get some food.

She snuck out into the entry room, where she found herself working quickly to prepare herself for entry. The long blue dress she wore would be horrible to fight in, so she borrowed a knife from one of the contestants, telling them her brother had gotten tied up in some rope.

Making sure no one saw her, she used the knife to cut the dress so it looked more like an oversized shirt. The stall-vendor gladly sold her a pair of trouser, which she slipped on.

Joy then shrugged off her long-coat, and took off her cleaver. She replaced the coat, and then the cleaver over it. Just as she was ready to speak to the guard at the door, she noticed the cleaver-girl was signing up as well. Not wanting to miss a chance to at least talk to her, Joy raced up to her.

"No wonder you wanted me to leave, seeing you were entering," she said, smiling when the cleaver-girl turned to look at her.

"Well, the rich girl isn't so nice after all. Here to fight?" Joy nodded, though she still wasn't sure about entering in what would most likely kill her. "Why don't we go together then? No reason we can't, right?"

They both looked at the guard, who shrugged.

"Name's please," he said. "I'll need to tell Mad-Dog about the changes."

"Name's Blade. And this is…"

Joy thought fast. She had to come up with a stage name, or else her family would stop the fight before it began. Blade had the same thought, apparently, and answered for her.

"This is Princess Ai, my partner," she said. Joy gave her a strange look, but Blade just shrugged her shoulders, and walked in as soon as the gates opened.

As the two walked, Blade pulled a black masque out from the pocket in her jacket.

"Put this on. It'll help you hide from your parents."

"How did you know-"

"Listen to me Joy. I don't know if you have something to prove, but just stick to the shadows, and shoot what you can with that clockwork you just bought. If you can shoot, that is." Joy stopped and stared at Blade for a moment. She looked back at her, and smiled. "Showtime, Princess Ai. Let's see what you got."

Joy, still a bit shocked, nodded and put on her masque. The stone doors in front of them opened, and the voice of Mad-Dog McGraw echoed in the arena the two girls now stood in.

"Now, by popular demand, we have a new challenger! The famed hero of Albion, the slayer of balverines, the savior of Bowerstone. Blade! And we have quite a surprise today. Blade is not alone, ladies and gentlemen! Fighting alongside her is none other than the mystifying, regal, young warrior woman from a far-off land! Princess Ai!"

Blade and Joy looked at each other.

"Wonder if he made that up on the spot," Blade muttered, drawing her cleaver. Joy shrugged and pulled out her clockwork pistol. Her eyes scanned the audience, and she spotted her family. They apparently hadn't noticed her disappearance, and were cheering for the first round to begin. Joy remembered it well.

"Beetles. That's first," she told Blade as the ugly bugs started to appear.

"You'd think they could at least give us something interesting… like wolves," Blade muttered back.

The first wave of beetles was taken down in less than ten seconds by Blade's cleaver. Joy only fired a single shot, the first in her life. When the second and third rounds began, she and Blade seemed to split the fighting in half. To Blade, it was child's-play. To Joy, it was the start of the Crucible, and possibly the most excitement she'd get to have in her life. The round ended in sixty seconds.

The nest two rounds were hobbes, and the two girls found it very easy. Joy was surprised that every shot she made hit one of the creatures, as if she had used a gun before and was a master of skill.

Thehollow-men round proved to be trouble, but the hoards of undead went down easily once their numbers began to dwindle. Joy used her cleaver with little trouble, and the fighting became sort of… fun for Joy.Then the next round began.

Bandits awaited them in the next round, and Joy saw a bit of hesitation in Blade's eyes. Joy, however, found herself killing just to stay alive. The blood was the only thing that bothered her. Highway men followed the bandits, and Joy found herself growing numb to the battle. At the end of the round, she looked back to where her family was. They still didn't seem to notice her disappearance, and were too busy cheering for either her or Blade to be killed. If only they knew who's death they were cheering for.

When all the highwaymen had been killed, the doors opened and the two girls exited the arena. Blade stopped half-way to the next arena, and turned to Joy.

"How are you not dead yet?" she asked bluntly.

"Luck? I don't know. Maybe I was born to do this," Joy said, shrugging. Blade nodded with a questioningly look in her eyes, and kept walking.

"Balverines are next, you know," Joy said.

"I know. I can smell death from here. Whoever entered before me didn't make it, did they?"

"No, they died in this round."

"I hope they got rid of the body. Don't want to be distracted, do we?"

Joy shook her head, but Blade took no notice. They entered the ring, and the round began. Joy had never seen a balverine until that day, and she was already shooting one into the ground.

"Behind you!" Blade yelled.

Joy drew her cleaver and spun around, causing the head of the attacking balverine to roll off. She stepped backward, in an attempt not to be injured by the falling body. She wasn't fast enough, however. The claws of the headless creature cut the cord that held her masque on.

"Well, now we can see the face of this Princess Ai! And isn't she a gorgeous lady!"

Ignoring the balverine around her, Joy looked up at her family. They were all silent with shock. She narrowed her eyes, and ducked down as a balverine tried to run her down. Its claws cut deep into her shoulder, but she felt nothing. She drew her clockwork pistol, aimed, and readied to fire. A frantic cry made her lose focus.

"STOP THE FIGHT!"

Joy looked up for only an instant at her mother, and was knocked to the ground by a balverine. Her gun went off, hitting it in the leg. Blade's cleaver finished it, and Joy was pulled to her feet.

"STOP IT NOW! THAT'S MY DAUGHTER DOWN THERE!"

Joy glared at her mother and the balverines vanished from the arena. Blade was equally disappointed that the fight had been stopped.

"Some mum you've got there. No wonder you have a death wish," Blade mumbled.

"I don't have a death wish, Blade. I just wanted to have some fun."

"Don't call me that," Blade snapped. "It's not my name."

The room had grown silent by then, and guards were entering the arena. Joy had half a mind to kill one of them if they tried to grab her.

Blade turned to Joy's terrified family.

"Let her finish this!" she called up. "She's made it this far, why stop now?"

Joy was too preoccupied with the approaching guards and didn't hear her words.

"Well, how about it ladies and gents? Should we keep going or what?" Mad-Dog's voice asked. The response was most of the crowd chanting for the fight to continue. The guards backed away and left the arena.

"This is insanity!" Joy's mother called from the stands.

"And you cheer it on and on," Joy called up, gripping the handle of her cleaver. The balverines re-appeared, and the round continued. Most of the creatures fell at Blade's feet, and Joy wondered how many someone had to kill to know their every move, like she did.

The last round seemed easy. Only three balverines entered the arena, but they were bigger than the others. Blade looked a bit worried as she fought, and she moved more than normal.

Joy found herself staring one of the white balverines in the face, and she brought her cleaver down, burying it in the balverines shoulder. It let out a scream, but didn't go down. The instant Joy drew her cleaver back to hit it again, the balverine opened its jaws and went for the neck. Joy tumbled backward, and felt everything slow down. The balverine seemed to be frozen, moving as if it was underwater.

Joy pulled out her clockwork pistol and fired three times, and the balverine fell dead. The round had finished, and there was only one left to go. Blade and Joy exited the arena, and Blade stopped as soon as the stone doors closed behind them.

"You could have mentioned you can use will, you know," she muttered. "You could have told me you were a hero."

Sparrow entered the study and opened the brown bag that sat on the table. She walked over to one of the bookshelves, and pulled out a very old, very thick book. Dust flew from it as she dropped it on the table and opened it. Most of the pages had been cut in the middle, and the space had been filled with gold. Sparrow emptied the gold into her bag, and closed the book.

She repeated the process with three more of the books, replacing each after she had retrieved the gold inside. Now she began to pull out some of the thinner books, stuffing them into the bag. One fell to the floor, and opened up. Sparrow's handwriting was inside, along with a date at the top of the page. She picked it up and put it in the bag, pausing for a moment to look around the room.

If Reaver was serious about keeping her in the manor, he would most likely track her down without any trouble. That's what Sparrow thought, at least. Her mind was spinning so much she could hardly think straight.

She walked to the back of the study and pulled a decorative gun from its plaque, not knowing or caring what she had taken. Her main thought was the fewer weapons around for Reaver to use, the better. As she walked back to the table, a book fell from a shelf, landing open on the floor. Sparrow turned back and picked it up, looking at the title. Reaver had written it, and of course it was about him.

Sparrow put the gun she had taken in her bag, and flipped through the pages of the book. A few rough drawings accompanied the text, and she shut the book.

Onefortheroad, she thought, placing the book in her bag. She pulled the string around the mouth of the bag, and closed it up. With one last look around the study, she flung the bag onto her back and exited the study.

The second she reached for the door handle, she heard voices on the other side. Reaver was back, and he had brought a few friends. Sparrow tensed, and ran back up the stairs to the guest room where she was supposed to be tied up. Just as she shut the door to the room, she heard the front door open.

Think Sparrow, think! He'll be back to check on you, and when he sees you're not tied up… Well, he won't be too pleased. There aren't any windows to climb out of either, so getting back out of this room and onto the balcony in the back is the only way.

Following her minds advice, Sparrow opened the door- and came face to face with Reaver.

"Well, look who got out of bed to greet me! Such a clever thing you are. Ladies, I'm sorry, but I must speak with the lady of the house."

Sparrow tried to run, but Reaver already had a hand around her wrist. The two girls accompanying him left, muttering to each other.

"Let go," Sparrow growled through her teeth, glaring at Reaver.

"Not until I've had my fun, Sparrow dear," Reaver said with a smirk.

"If you think you can have any girl you want-"

"My dear, for once I only want answers! Am I really that predictable?"

"What do you want to know?" Sparrow snapped.

Reaver sighed and shook his head.

"Always to the point. Really, Sparrow, how do you carry on a conversation without idle chit-chat?"

"I manage," Sparrow snapped back. "Now what do you want?"

"Well, seeing you have quite a lot of money hidden around here, why stay? Why not buy that nice castle and bother the nobles instead of-"

"Bother you?" Sparrow finished, raising an eye brow. "Why, Reaver! I didn't know what a pain I could be! Just because I'm not begging you to sleep with me doesn't make me that bad," she paused and looked at Reaver like a scolded child. "Does it?"

Reaver scoffed at her, and let go of her wrist.

"Besides, I'm not that rich anyway. Buying Castle Fairfax would take me about two months of work, and I have nowhere else to live." The last statement was a lie, but what right did Reaver have to kick her out of her own house? She bought it with her own money from the remaining maids, and worked very hard for the money it took to buy it!

The smirk that formed on Reaver's face made Sparrow shudder. He was thinking about some way to get the manor back. She could just feel it.

"I propose we play a little… game," Reaver said. "And whoever looses has to leave."

"And the rules of this game are…?"

"Well, to make it interesting, if one of us becomes… attached to the other, they lose."

Sparrow rolled her eyes as if Reaver was joking. She knew he was serious, and thinking he could win this… game, as he called it. And it would be an honor to prove him wrong.

After making the deal with Reaver, which to Sparrow felt more like making a deal with the Shadow Court, she left to find Logan. She found him easily enough at the pub, drinking a bottle of ale.

"Once a bandit, always a bandit," she said as she walked over to him. Logan turned around, looking a bit shocked to see her. "What? Did you honestly think I was dead or something?"

Logan shook his head.

"Then why the long face?" Sparrow asked. "After seeing what I could do fighting balverines, I think you'd at least trust me a bit."

"That's not the problem," Logan muttered. Sparrow rolled her eyes, doubting that very much. It was clear to her that Logan had taken a liking to her. Maybe he just didn't know it himself yet.

"So what's the problem?"

Before Logan could answer, a familiar voice cried out Sparrow's name, and the crier tackled her from behind. Sparrow, though not expecting her, knew who she was instantly.

"Hello to you too, Joy," she muttered, waiting for the happy blonde to get off her back. She turned to see her old friend, who hugged her properly this time.

"Sparrow, I missed you so much! You came just when I needed you to!" Joy said, letting Sparrow catch her breath.

"You needed me? I thought you could take care of yourself, hero," Sparrow said, smiling.

"About that… You see, I was sort of… drained of my will power. Long story. And my parents refused to let me carry a weapon after they got me back home. So, when I tried to run away again, I couldn't do much about being sold off to Reaver..."

Sparrow blinked.

"Say that again? Reaverbought you?" Joy nodded. "And did he-"

"No, none of that. He just brought me into the manor, then you showed up. And then I… kinda hit you with a pan… Sorry?"

Sparrow burst out laughing, making Joy a bit confused.

"Wait, wait, wait… You hit her with a pan?" Logan asked from behind Sparrow. "Are you insane or something?"

"No… I was aiming at Reaver, idiot!" Joy snapped. Sparrow almost forgot how fast her moods could change. "Why would I try to hit her anyway?"

Logan held up his hands, one holding a beer bottle, as if to say 'I'm innocent'. Sparrow managed to calm herself down.

"Well, Joy, I'm afraid I'll be living with Reaver for a while… We sort of made a deal."

"YOU WHAT?" both Joy and Logan said in unison.

Sparrow laughed weakly again, and rubbed the back of her head with embarrassment.

"Well, it was that or go to live in Bowerstone, and try to get enough money to buy the castle there."

"Well, why not do that?" Joy asked.

"It's not the same. Bowerstone is where I grew up, and that castle… It holds too many bad memories. Of my sister, mainly."

Joy frowned, and sighed.

"Whatever you do isn't up to me. Just- just be careful, okay? That man's a deviant."

"Talking about me already, eh? I knew you'd come around."

Sparrow and Joy turned to see Reaver with a smug look on his face.

"I'll punch that smirk right off of your ugly face, Reaver!" Joy shouted, curling both of her hands into fists.

"Well, no wonder you two get along so well. I could mistake you for sisters if I didn't know better."

Joy and Sparrow exchanged looks, and Sparrow sighed.

"Reaver, this really isn't the time," Sparrow mumbled. "Just because we now live in the same house doesn't mean you have to watch my every move like a jealous husband."

Reaver shrugged the insult off.

"My dear Sparrow, I only came to invite you to my party! Seeing you live where it will happen, though, I'm sure you'll join in."

"Jee, thanks Reaver. Real nice of you," Sparrow muttered sarcastically.

"And be sure to wear something a bit more… lady-like, hmm?"

Before Sparrow had a chance to answer, Reaver walked- flaunted, really- off to invite whoever else he pleased.

"Bloody annoying old man," Sparrow mumbled to herself.