Here's Chapter 11! Enjoy! Sorry for the long waits between postings!

"Cap'n," Gibbs approached Jack and Barbossa at the helm.

"Aye?" they both replied together, followed by a quick glare at each other.

"The plunder is secured below, and the crew is rested and ready," Gibbs announced to them.

"And the rum?" Jack inquired.

Gibbs plucked two bottles from his belt. "Present!"

"Well then," Jack took one of the bottles and spoke before Barbossa could. "I guess that only means one last stop for us before we set sail!"

Gibbs' eyes gleamed. "Tortuga?"

Jack returned the grin. "Tortuga!"

They bumped their bottles together and gulped the rum, Barbossa using the opportunity to order to set sail for the city. Jack was not in as big a hurry as he would have been. He was the only one who had a map for Atlantis. He wanted to relish every bit of the journey as much as possible.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Groves couldn't believe his eyes. Emma had been right. Jack had returned within a matter of days. He felt victorious when he spotted the Black Pearl ashore again. He would reappear at the tavern tonight to listen in on anything else Jack had to say to Emma.

Emma. Groves stopped in his tracks. He hoped she was safe. He would get to see her tonight. Would she still help him? She had so far, but would she suddenly change her mind? How far away were his men from Port Royal? He would have to leave with them, and likely not ever see her again.

He sat in the tavern that night with mixed emotions. He and Emma saw each other, but gave no indication they knew each other. Groves wasn't sure if his follower was there, but Emma would know. He couldn't take any kind of action that could jeopardize either of them if the man was there.

To his surprise, the musicians picked up an unfamiliar tempo, and he saw Emma standing on the bar. As if on cue, she danced to their tune, lifting her skirts as she did so. The tune was cheery and slowly sped up, Emma keeping perfect time, her boots clicking, stomping, and kicking. Those who were nearby or sober enough cheered and watched the spectacle, some snarling in their pirate speech. Groves admitted to himself that she was not a bad dancer, and the joy on her face actually looked genuine. He was mesmerized, still staring at her when the short dance had ended and several patrons tossed coins at her before she stepped down and pocketed them. Other nearby patrons who had watched raised their mugs and bottles in approval.

Groves continued to stare, absorbed by the happiness that briefly gleamed in her eyes. His heart dropped as soon as she had jumped down from the bar, the usual emptiness taking over behind her eyes. He wondered how often she danced, considering this was the first time he had ever seen it.

Soon enough, Jack showed up. Groves thought he saw some of his crew that he recognized, but didn't dare make eye contact with them. He was already dirtied up again, but no telling if they would be able to recognize him or not, and he was not here to befriend anyone.

"Hello, love! Did you miss me?" Jack greeted her at the bar.

"Feels like only yesterday you left. You're back sooner than I would have thought," Emma replied, sliding a rum bottle to him.

"Simple complications, but we got what we needed." Emma wanted to roll her eyes at his ironic phrasing. "Well, aren't you curious what I've been doing?"

"I was waiting for you to start," Emma said as she served a couple more pirates, ignoring their eyes. Groves boiled inside whenever he saw the men's eyes leering over her or reaching for her as she walked away. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself, but that didn't stop the foreign tension inside him.

Jack told her about the ports they'd plundered, small places with very little or poor defense. Groves listened, but heard nothing of use, except for Jack mentioning they'd be in Tortuga for a short time (Emma couldn't get him to say the number of days; Groves doubted Jack knew himself), and then they would finally set sail for the lovely Atlantis, though he was careful not to say the name too loudly.

"And you still have your trusty map and compass?" Emma mocked.

Jack gave her his sly grin. "Of course, love. Only the Captain ever carries them. Now, as I was saying…"

Jack had gotten himself absorbed in his own story; it was nearly a laughable sight. However, Emma was stalling for time, leaning forward to take in every word. When he appeared thoroughly distracted, she reached subtly into his coat where she thought the map would be.

Jack grabbed her wrist, feigning a look of surprise. Groves stiffened as he watched. "You wouldn't be trying to steal from me, would you love? You know, that's not very nice. Nor wise…"

Emma tilted her head. "You promised me some time ago that you would let me see the map with my own eyes, since you said you felt so sorry for me because I don't get out much."

Jack eyed her curiously, trying to remember. Had he said those words?

Emma fingered his beard. "Just a brief look…Jack Sparrow always keeps his word…"

Jack scanned this way and that with his eyes, and underneath his coat, drew out the circular map and unraveled it, letting her see it for only a few seconds before quickly rolling it back up. "There, now you saw it. It'll cost you…"

When they had finished talking, Emma made him pay for the rum (although he overpaid her again, despite her giving him an extra bottle for seeing the map) before pointing him in Giselle and Scarlet's direction.

Groves sighed, pretending to be into his drink, which he had only pretended to swig. No new information, or what exact route Jack would be taking so the fleet could catch up to him. He doubted the brief look she got at the map was enough to see anything. For all they knew he could have shown her an irrelevant map. If the fleet missed Jack by the time they arrived, what were their hopes of catching up to him?

Groves's eyes wandered around the tavern, observing people. He remembered Lord Caldwell's comments to him at the ball about his skills. Then he remembered Emma's observations over the last few weeks. She was just as keen as he was; he had met his match, as far as a sharp eye went.

Drunkards continued to chug, sing, punch each other-not even close to be a brawl, even arm wrestle. The tavern, though lit with its various candle fixtures, appeared fairly dark, almost like a castle, though it was a far cry from a fairytale setting. Wenches served the drinks, made themselves available to potential customers, and flirted. The musicians continued to play, all within the midst of snarls and cackles of the ruffians. Is this what Emma dealt with everyday?

He tried to casually find her, noticing she had disappeared from her spot at the bar. He hadn't found any pair of eyes watching him, and unless they were as good at hiding as he was, his follower was nowhere to be found.

He soon spotted Emma back at the bar, having just returned from delivering drinks to a table. A pirate at the bar eyed her, and Groves stiffened. The pirate reached for her, but she snatched herself away, nearly instinctually, without allowing herself to be disturbed from her current task. The pirate reached further across the bar again, this time flinging his entire body over, as though he were jumping a fence. Emma turned to swipe him, but he grabbed her.

"Let go of me!" she said firmly.

"Trying to play difficult, are ya…always tryin' to play hard to get..."

Groves was out of his seat before the man's feet touched the ground on the other side of the bar. Emma rejected the pirate, but it was clear he would have none of it. The other drunks around the bar continued as if nothing was happening, were oblivious, or worse-didn't care. He saw her struggle as the ruffian tried to pull her to him from behind. With one arm around her waist he secured her to him, and his mouth was about to touch her neck, his other hand in strands of her hair that had come loose.

"Come on, little beauty, you never used to pull away…"

Within a few moments, Groves had swung himself over the bar without hitting anyone, and pulled the pirate off Emma just before his lips grazed her skin. Emma turned in time to see Groves punch the man square in the face. The pirate fell back against the bar, knocking over two men's mugs. The drunken men freshly angered, they thrust the pirate back over the bar and tossed him onto a table, which angered more pirates, and the chain reaction began. The musicians picked up the volume and tempo just in time again, witnessing the ordeal.

Groves, ignoring his throbbing hand, rushed to Emma, who had sought refuge away from them. Unbeknownst to him, she had spotted his follower again in those last moments.

"Are you all right?" he asked her.

A bottle that had been thrown in their direction broke on a column right by them, making them both jump.

Emma grabbed his sleeve. "Hurry, we have to leave!"

Getting on the other side of the bar would be no easy task. Crawling behind it served as a good defense for a short time, though.

The brawl was deafening, yet the musicians somehow weren't drowned out.

Emma and Groves finally emerged through one of the openings to the other side of the bar. Now they were more vulnerable to the fight. Groves looked around for the nearest exit, but was pulled by Emma, prompting a grunt from him.

"This way!" She picked up their speed a bit, but they were still able to squeeze their way through crowds. This chaos reminded him very much of the first night they met.

They sought refuge behind a wall to catch their breath. Groves saw Emma peek around for a moment, then turn back and lift her skirts, lifting out the pistol from the holster she had fastened to her leg before peeking back around their barricade. He didn't have time to ask her what she was doing, nor to look away from her bare leg when she'd lifted her skirt.

Emma spotted him instantly-the man who had been following Groves. Still somewhat hidden by the wall, she closed one eye and aimed her pistol. To her surprise, the sour-faced man spotted her among the crowd and reached for his own pistol, but she fired hers first. Her shot grazed his jaw, and she watched him palm it as he jerked a bit. He took his hand away after a moment. He bled a bit, which showed she had barely missed him. He would have a scar in that area for a while; the gunpowder residue would leave a nice, burning mark underneath his skin.

"Come on!" she shouted and led Groves further into the back, hearing other guns fire. No doubt one of those shots had been the other man's.

"Who did you-"

"The man who's been following you!"

She dragged them until they got to the farthest corner of the tavern. The brawl had even spread back this far, and it was easy for them to hide. She inched their way through and out a small exit.

"Hurry! We'll hide in the woods!" she ordered.