Thank you for all your reviews and for loving the story. I appreciate every bit of it...


Lord Beckett woke up later that night with a slow realization where he was. At once he noticed he wasn't in Brenna's bed like he had planned earlier, but yet on the floor. Had he taken her there? No, he recalled the images of a few hours before. But Lord Beckett was far from angry. He was more starved of her than when he had arrived. He had kissed her and she hadn't pulled away. Though he realized she was luring him to be distracted by her escape, it had worked. It worked too much that when he saw her again, he was afraid of what he might do just to be around her. He had never craved something so much. She had kissed him with a passion that he knew was deep inside of her. Even though she tried to deny him and hurt him, she loved him in her heart. He was sure of it as he kissed her. She may have felt like he was the worst person on Earth, but she loved it when he toyed with her, when he mentioned the thought of bedding her. Deep down, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

A smile flicked across Beckett's face as he rode home in his carriage. How James had left a temptress like that at home was a wonder that even God himself wouldn't be able to know.


A tall man with a horribly ruined wig came strolling into a pub, rum bottle in one hand and sword in the other. His navy coat was faded and ruined, much like his life. His beard and hair now grew to eccentric length, deprived of a bath and a knife in which to shave. He was leaner than ever now, but still had muscles on his bones from the constant fighting with drunken men every night. The man sat down at the bar of the pub, next to a rotting wench that eyed him.

James Norrington didn't understand what his life had come to. Only months ago he was sleeping in his own bed with clean clothes. He had a wife who loved him but was somewhat angry with him. He had a title, wealth…everything one could possibly want. But his ludicrous actions earned him his pathetic life now. He didn't deserve anything better than what he had…which was nothing. He threw everything away just to catch Captain Sparrow, but in the end…when the hurricane hit…

James slammed his hand on the bar. He had enough money for rum and not enough for the wench who was now rubbing his shoulders. He brushed her off hoping she would just leave.

"Aw, does the Mrs. gets angry when you sleep with other women?" She chortled with laughter.

Brenna. He thought of her everyday. He pictured her sleeping in his arms after a night of passion. He pictured her wearing one of her beautiful gowns hand made and well paid for. He pictured her reading a book or playing the piano in the sun. Every moment he got he thought about her. He missed her more than ever and often wondered if she thought of him.

James couldn't have faced her the day he resigned to Lord Beckett. He remembered it all very clearly, it only happening a few weeks ago.

James floated on top of the water, trying desperately to grab onto the rope that had been thrown down to him. He unsteadily climbed aboard the ship, grateful that he had been saved. But just as he leaned against the railing, a man came up to him dressed magnificently of a maroon colored jacket and black triangular hat with a white wig. Lord Beckett, his wife's ex-fiancé stood before him, a large smirk on his lips.

"Commodore Norrington…" He asked, taking off his trench coat.

James said nothing only starred in disbelief. He then found himself sitting at a desk with Lord Beckett, listening to Lord Beckett's intentions.

"You and your wife face the hang man's noose, but I am here to offer you a way out." Lord Beckett played with the stem of his wine glass, sipping it occasionally.

James nodded, willing him to go on.

"For you, I have devised a way for you to disappear without any questions asked and your pride spared. You will resign and leave Port Royal without so much as a goodbye to your wife and I will pronounce you dead. I have enough money to cover over your existence that you don't have anything to worry. For your wife…"

Beckett paused, drinking down the rest of the wine. James arched an eyebrow, wondering what he could possibly want from a married woman.

"As for your wife," Beckett continued, "I wish to marry her."

James jumped from his seat, his rage boiling over instantly. "Lord Beckett, this conversation is over."

"Then you condemn your wife to death, as well as yourself." Beckett sat back in his chair, his legs propped up on the desk, waiting for James to agree.

James sat back down, reviewing his options. There were only two. Die with his wife or accept Beckett's offer.

"So, Commodore…what shall it be? You slip blissfully off to Tortuga and disappear while I marry your wife…or you both die." His voice rested into a small smile.

It took James a full three days to finally agree, but when he did, he felt like the lowest piece of dirt on earth. He sacrificed his wife to save her and now…now she would live her days in unhappiness.

"Lord Beckett has probably already married her and bedded her…" James thought with anger.

At that moment, two men sauntered into the room. James sat speechless as the two men set up a table and brought out papers, lining people up to sign for something. The object of James's ruined life was in the room with him. All his thoughts of Brenna fell onto the ground and in one quick moment, James found himself in that very line waiting for the right moment to kill Captain Sparrow.