Rita was sure it was going to take Margaret a minute to recover from the shock of seeing him again. She hadn't so much as uttered his name in the many years since they last saw him, but Rita knew her friend had grieved when they parted. Only whispers of his legacy had reached them, through the mouths of the pirates they crossed paths with in each new town, and Margaret was stone-faced with every update. Barbossa was like a phantom in her life, someone she'd become sure she'd never see again, and yet reminders of his existence kept him from ever leaving her mind entirely.

Over time, Margaret had received her fair share of suitors, but had taken none. She stood by her opposition of marriage, stating that it would be a shame to settle down while she was proving how powerful a woman alone could be. Rita believed that was true, but couldn't help wonder if she also was stubbornly holding on to feelings for her old lover.

It was because of this that she was surprised when Margaret boldly took the empty seat facing Hector, and regarded him as if he were a casual acquaintance.

"Well, if it isn't Barbossa," She said, returning the sly smile. "What are you doing so far down the Caribbean?"

"Actually, it's Captain, now," Hector said carefully. He too, had been expecting a stronger reaction, but did not let it sway him.

"Hard to keep track, these days."

Hector chuckled, as did a few of the men sitting around him. They hadn't realized before, but many of the occupants in the tavern must have been his new crew. The monkey bared his teeth at the girls, and Hector ran a finger along his head and murmured, "Easy there, Jack."

Edmund had become more uncomfortable by the minute.

"You're…you're he pirate!" He blurted. "The one everyone's been talking about, who captained the ship of the damned and faced Davy Jones himself. The one who defeated Lord Beckett's armada!"

"Shut it, Ed," Rita snapped.

"Tales from the sea reach land at a slow pace," said Hector, drinking deeply from a fresh cup he'd snatched from the pirate next to him. "That was months ago. But it's good to know I'm not yet forgotten."

"Enough," Margaret spoke quietly but sharply. All attention turned back to her. "You've got a job for us? Or are you only interested in boasting?"

Hector looked at her, trying desperately to meet her eyes. All he saw was a hardened glare that, even after the many years apart, he remembered meant business. The men closest to him had tensed, but he raised a hand to settle them.

"Aye. I'm here to hire ye, alright, but perhaps first a round of drinks among old friends would do…"

"'Fraid I'm not too thirsty. How about you tell us now?" Margaret leaned in. "Your note said you wanted us to pick up a shipment of rum from Tortuga for you. That all?"

"It's…it's a bit more complicated than that, see," Hector shifted in his seat, preparing for his pitch.

"We don't mind complicated," Rita said coolly.

"No, I should think not," Hector grinned up at her. "Here's the state of things. It's a matter of completing some …unfinished business. I was robbed of some precious antiquities after losin' the Pearl. A young captain by the name o' Regis found a stash I'd hidden, and looted every damn piece. Fool didn't know who he was taking from, and lucky for us he still doesn't. All I want is to take back what's rightfully mine. Now that I've got me ship back, I need to see to restoring me fortune."

"What does that have to do with rum?" Edmund asked.

"Ed, hush," Rita rolled her eyes. "But he's right, what do you need our help for? Can't you just go after this man yourself, pirate on pirate?"

"Ah, I could," Hector said. "But me forces are weak, and sending the crew on a wild goose chase would hardly be worth the costs. I knew stealth would be the only way. See, Regis isn't just any captain, he's also black market dealer, not unlike yerselves. Christopher Regis, heard of 'im?"

Margaret nodded.

"Never met him myself, but if I'm not mistaken he works primarily in transporting illegal libations?" She said, raising her eyebrows.

"That he does," Hector sighed. "That's where you come in. We'd need ye to make contact with him, say ye've been hired to pick up an order. He'll know of ye. Trust ye. Then, ye'd sail with us over to Tortuga, where he keeps his vault, to finish the deal. We break into his stash, I get me treasures, and meanwhile ye get the goods for another job. Everyone goes home happy. And ye'd be paid more'n fair for yer troubles, of course."

"So, you'd be using us to land a fake deal, just to distract him while get your stuff back?" Rita rephrased.

"That'd be the idea."

Rita looked at Margaret, who was mulling it over. It was almost demeaning, the thought of their esteemed opertation being used as a mere cover story for thievery. Not to mention, it seemed like too complex a plot for a little long lost treasure. However, even with the risks involved they couldn't just say no to their first job in weeks. And they had so missed being on the ocean…

"It'd be a straightforward operation. Week, at most, once we get started," Hector said, leaning back in his chair. "We'll be stayin' here for a bit, to wait out the storm. Give ye time to decide."

"Would you pay upfront?" Margaret asked suddenly.

"As would any man of honor."

"We're in."

Rita and Edmund dropped their jaws and began to protest, but Margaret took her lead from Hector and held up a hand to quiet them.

"We'll need a week to set up the deal with Regis. Shouldn't be too hard, we have a mutual connection. Then my crew and I will personally accompany you to Tortuga to do our parts."

She held out her hand. With slight trepidation, Hector shook it. Margaret was silently pleased that she was able to surprise him, though her unpredictability was not something her friends seemed too fond of at the moment. They left the bar with a brief goodbye, and an agreement to regroup the following day to discuss plans. The three walked back in silence for the first half of their journey home. When they'd hit an empty part of the village, Edmund let loose.

"How can you even think about dealing with pirates?" He exclaimed. "I mean, I know you've made it clear you don't care about the guild's no-pirate rule, but there's something really off about this man."

"Barbossa's harmless," Margaret replied. "Besides, this is easy work he's offering. We could use the money, and the promise of cargo to sell."

"He's hiring you for a revenge mission, that's not concerning?"

"I hate to say it, but Ed's got a point," Rita said quietly. "I know we've sailed with him before, but…You heard Jack's stories. The man's been through hell and back. Twice. That's got to change a person."

"Well, he's not he only one who's changed," Margaret muttered. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'm going to take a longer walk. Go home without me."

She split off from Rita and Edmund, leaving the two to exchange worried glances as she headed in the opposite direction.

It wasn't hard to find the room where Hector was staying. A few friendly words to the innkeeper, and Margaret was pointed in the right direction. Moving with determination, she didn't even hesitate when she reached his door to give it one hard bang. She knew he'd be alone, but she didn't know if he'd want to see her. She didn't care.

When he opened up, she stormed into the room.

"How long have you known how to find me?"

Hector stood watching her for a moment, choosing his next words with care. Margaret felt her fury soar when he sighed like she was a disobedient child.

"I was only recently looking for a smuggler. Ye came highest recommended," He said flatly.

"And you just thought it'd be fun to drag me and Rita back into your pirate game? For old times' sake?"

"It was you who accepted my offer."

"If there's a job I can do, I take it. Doesn't mean I have to trust my patron."

They stared each other down. Margaret was unpleasantly reminded of the first time she saw him; a young girl on a tiny boat facing off with a fearsome marauder. Hector remained at the door, his hand gripping the knob. For a moment she thought he would kick her out, but instead he chuckled like he always did and gently closed it.

"I like the dress," He gestured at the slim gown Margaret donned. "Doesn't suit ye, though."

"How long have you really known how to find me?"

Hector moved closer to her, taking each step warily, lest she pounce.

"I don't know how much ye know, lass," He said. "But it hasn't exactly been an easy decade for me."

"How long?

He took a breath.

"Five years. On and off. Ye moved around a lot, but I heard things."

"So why now?"

She was quick to shoot her questions so he had less time to think in between.

"That not obvious, Miss? I needed yer services."

"You could have used anyone for your heist."

"But I chose someone familiar. Not uncommon in business. Are ye complainin'?"

"I'm trying to figure out if you've gone mad."

Hector's lip twitched, and Margaret could see he was losing his patience. She did not back down, not even when he stomped forward, coming within a few inches of her face.

"What are ye hoping to hear, Miss? That I missed ye? That in ten years, I thought of ye often? Well, I didn't. I didn't have the time!"

Margaret stepped even closer, calling his bluff.

"How dare you call me 'Miss'," she said in a dangerous whisper. "You know my name."

With a sneer, Hector turned away from her. He walked towards the door, and Margaret was sure this time she was going to be thrown out.

"Hey-!" Margaret hurried after him, grabbing him by the shoulder before he could reach the knob. She was going to force him to look at her, make him talk. But it was her turn to be surprised.

He spun and kissed her so fiercely that she thought if he were to let go, she'd fall backward. She met him instantly with equal force, and the two fell into an arm chair in the corner, not bothering to come up for air. She held onto him with a tightness that made his head spin. It was like a competition, one trying to weaken the other with each touch. He lifted up the hem of her dress, running his hand further up her bare thigh until she audibly gasped.

"Not fair," Margaret murmured in his ear.

"I wonder," He growled. "If after all these years, I can still make ye moan like the young dove ye were."

"Try me."

Rita was awake when Margaret returned to the house just before dawn. She hadn't slept much, not because she was waiting for her friend, but because she was unsure. Being among pirates again would be an adventure, but she feared what it would mean for their crew. They were not the best of collaborators, and the idea of sailing under the command of another, even for a short time, was difficult to imagine. Not to mention she was still suspicious of Barbossa's reasons for involving them. There were holes in his story, and his plan, that set her on edge. At first she was grateful to spot Margaret's figure on the path through the window. When she went downstairs to meet her, however, she felt differently.

It was Margaret's eyes that gave her away, for they were clouded with a look Rita hadn't seen in a long time but recognized immediately.

"You didn't," Rita said, sitting down on the ragged sofa.

"Didn't what?" Margaret snapped defensively.

"Come on, you think I don't know where you went?"

"I fail to see how that concerns you."

"Look, you were really cut up after he left. You can deny it all you want, but I swear, if you fall for him, you'll just regret it. Again." Rita tried to keep her tone steady.

Margaret sighed. She knew her friend was looking out for her. Romance was the one topic that they didn't discuss much of, mainly because it rarely was an issue. When it was, though, they didn't quite know how to handle themselves.

"C'mon, Rita. Who do you think you're talking to?" She smiled. "I'm not falling for anybody. And as I think you once said, there's nothing wrong with having a bit of fun."

"I know that. I just…would hate to see you get hurt by the likes of him."

"Don't give men so much credit. There are far worse pains in the world than something as pitiful as a broken heart." Margaret yawned.

Rita couldn't argue with that. Then again, she'd never had her heart broken. She wasn't sure Margaret had either, though if she had, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it.