Nearly a month passed, maybe more. The Endurance had stopped at a few safe ports, having passed Cuba on their voyage. Officers asked locals if any pirate ships had been sighted, but there had been none, not even descriptions of ships that would have resembled the Black Pearl.

With a heavy heart Groves continued his duty overseeing Emma, though she was silent and withdrawn. It pained him to see a woman he had known to be so fiery and bold to be so distant, and he was certain he had somehow caused it. She wasn't rude to him, but she didn't look him in the eye or speak to him. In those few instances when he had to ask her questions, her answers were impersonal and brief. It pained Emma just as much to be so detached from a man in whom she knew she had found a friend-perhaps a little more-though she was unsure exactly what. The only comfort she could give herself was that he had no inclination or suspicion of her agreement with Lord Caldwell.

She did miss however, hearing his soothing voice and feeling his hand barely graze hers on the bars, his rough but gentle hand covering hers. She resisted the need to reach for him every time he came down to the brig. She became more curious about him, wanted to know more about him, which struck her as odd because she had never felt that way about anyone.

She wondered how strong he was-he certainly appeared to be, and he was so kind. Strong men she had met in her life were all rude and brutal. Theodore-or Theo, as he was sometimes referred to now in her musings-was so gentle, even now with her as a prisoner. She wondered what a typical day and night would be like with him, even if only once. She wanted to know his thoughts, how he came to be a Commodore and how he was sent to Tortuga, what he thought of her…

Then her wonderings would shatter as soon as that thought came to her. He certainly wouldn't want her once he reminded himself what she was, and definitely not if he discovered her bargain with Lord Caldwell. A woman who used her body to get by and survive was not looked upon with understanding, but scorn.

Norrington was a silent confidante for Groves, always waiting for Groves to come to him, knowing he had to wait for his friend to come around on his own. There had been a few instances where he had to speak to get Groves going, but he sympathized for his friend. He felt torn himself, knowing Groves was falling for the woman, but worried if she was the best match for him. Of course, he reminded himself that he barely knew the girl, and knew he had to trust Groves's judgment. The toll these circumstances were taking on his friend was a painful sight.

Groves was as torn as a sail in a storm. He knew his feelings for Emma weren't diminishing-and they didn't look like they would fade anytime soon-yet he didn't know how to confront them. He was well aware of her life in Tortuga, from what she had told him that night in the woods, but he found himself sympathizing for her, not disgusted. It bothered him a few times, but if his feelings grew even more, it wouldn't matter to him, regardless of what others would say, and he realized that.

He knew that Jack Sparrow's next venture would have come to light sooner or later, yet he still worried about Emma. He still felt responsible, despite her insisting she made the choice to associate with Jack, but he still felt like a coward for not knowing what else to do. True, she had said Jack was no friend of hers, and she had said she did it so he could better accomplish his mission, but he wondered why she wasn't concerned with her freedom. Why would she be worried about him? This didn't put him in any danger higher than the rest of his comrades. Trailing after pirates was never safe.

One thing was certain-he gave her his word that he would set her free. He wasn't entirely sure how, yet, but he wanted to achieve that promise without endangering her or compromising any of his comrades. Even if she didn't accept his offer of help, he could at least do that much for her. He soon realized he didn't see his desire to carry out his promise as repayment for her help, or even entirely to free himself of his guilt, but because he wanted to-for her.

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

Emma did speak again to Groves, however, one day when he was delivering her midday meal. Despite her silence, he still found himself looking forward to those few times a day when he would see her. Even though her behavior had been strange since her confession to Caldwell, Groves felt comforted just being in her presence.

As always, he gently placed her tray in front of the opening at the bottom of the cell's door before seating himself nearby. He would have to remain there, making sure she ate before he left to return the tray to the cook. If a prisoner didn't eat, it risked illness, an illness that could very well spread to everyone else on the ship.

He eyed her carefully today, not wanting to be caught looking at her. He comforted himself at seeing she wasn't as thin as she was in Port Royal, nor as pale. In fact, he thought he saw a glow in her face, and he didn't see the emptiness behind her eyes. He wondered what was the reason behind these changes.

"I recognize your friend, the Admiral," she said after her first few bites.

He shook himself from his observations, his heart warming upon hearing her voice. Elated she spoke to him, he managed to appear calm, though her voice sent his heart fluttering. In a small voice he asked, "Do you?"

"He brought me my breakfast this morning."

Groves nodded, remembering he had woken late that morning, much to Lord Caldwell's chagrin.

"I'm sure you know he was in Tortuga for a while?" she meekly asked.

Groves glanced at his hands. "Yes…he…isn't entirely proud of those days, but he has told me about them." He kindly added, "He told me he doesn't remember you, though."

Emma sipped her cup, which she tapped her fingers on now and then. "I could tell he doesn't. I never did more than serve him drinks."

Emma felt relieved revealing that to him, but she wasn't sure why.

She seemed to be thinking about her next comment, so Groves didn't say anything. "He spoke of you often."

Groves narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Norrington never told him what he had discussed with others while there, let alone talking to anyone. "He did?"

She peered at him. "He always went on about how loyal and trustworthy you are."

She didn't look directly at him, but could tell he was flattered when she peered at him. She didn't realize Groves was the one Norrington had talked about when she first met him, but when she remembered Norrington's comments, she was glad she was right about her impression of Groves. For once, she had judged someone's character well.

She contemplated on her next comment again, and he waited patiently. She ran her thumb along the brim of her cup thoughtfully. "He always mentioned a girl, too…very beautiful, as he described her..."

Groves listened attentively, curious what else she witnessed or heard from Norrington. He was amused at how interested he was in her recollection, and wondered why she was telling him. His curiosity rose when he saw a glow in her face, like she recalled the memory with a certain fondness.

"He never said her name, only that she had dark hair that rained down her back, her eyes as deep as the sea." She softly chuckled in spite of herself, not having looked at Groves. A glimmer of hope sparked inside him. Was she opening up to him again? Did she forgive him for getting her into this mess?

Her eyes peered up at him through the bars. "Did he marry her?"

Groves was taken aback by her inquiry, though he had enjoyed her recalling those memories. He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, remembering everything that led up to his friends' marriage. "Yes, he did."

Emma felt warm upon hearing his soft, soothing voice. She hoped he forgave her for her behavior some time back, although she wouldn't dare explain to him why she acted so. She was only opening herself again now because she felt it was safe, and he didn't appear to suspect anything, so she was willing to let her guard down again. Not to mention, they hadn't found Jack yet, so Caldwell wouldn't feel the need to "celebrate" yet.

"What's her name?"

Groves hesitated, but then supposed there was no harm-at least he hoped not. "Annabelle."

He saw a hint of a smile as she looked back down at her cup, wondering what she was thinking. He caught himself wondering if she ever hoped for marriage, or ever thought about it. He'd wondered about marriage himself before, but hadn't met a girl in Port Royal who he thought would have him…nor did he wish to enter into a loveless marriage if he could help it...

He blinked himself from his thoughts when he saw her move from the corner of his eye as she placed her cup back through the opening onto the tray. He rose upon seeing she had eaten the bread and apple.

He couldn't explain it, but he felt the tension between them had eased itself somehow.

He reluctantly lifted the tray from the floor, and met her eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments before Groves forced himself to break away, noticing one of the lanterns by her cell had burned out.

"I'll return in a moment to relight that lantern."

Within a few minutes, he returned with a lantern he borrowed from the kitchen, and drew out a long match to light the burnt lantern near her cell. He felt her eyes on him, though neither said nothing. He couldn't recall feeling a woman watch him, and he felt self-conscious at the possibility.

Once the lantern was lit, he closed its glass door and nodded to Emma. "I will bring you your supper later."

Emma's eyes showed her acknowledgement. "Thank you," she said softly.

His lips parted, wishing for the umpteenth time she wasn't in there. "You're welcome," he replied almost shakily. He swallowed a lump in his throat and headed for the stairs before his emotions rose again.

Emma watched him, not wanting him to leave. "Any sign of the Pearl?"

Groves stopped and turned, his breath catching upon looking back at her. In her eyes, he looked rather handsome, the light from the lantern outlining his features. It made his eyes appear darker, and she noted how square his jaw was.

He reminded himself to keep his voice steady. "Not yet."

She knew it, so no disappointment showed in her face, though she was relieved. They stared at each other for a few more moments before he reluctantly turned and ascended the stairs.

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

Woodrow remained in his cabin attached to Caldwell's. It was small, but it kept him hidden. He didn't mind that, but he did wish he could visit the girl himself, make sure she kept up her part of the bargain. When he voiced his concern to Caldwell, the man had brushed it off, assuring him that if Groves knew or even suspected anything of the sort, it could be read plainly on his face. Besides, it was too great a risk of Woodrow going below, for there were pairs of eyes open on the ship at all hours, and not even he could hide from them, Caldwell said. For now, he would have to be satisfied with playing the part of manservant, remaining out of sight otherwise.

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

Groves went back on deck after returning the lantern to the cook, a light breeze having picked up. He looked towards the sky. The sky had grown gray, the afternoon sun a shining pearl. He turned his gaze to the horizon, which was crowded with clouds, their bottoms dark.

He turned to see Norrington near the helm, and strolled over to the stern.

Norrington turned to him as his comrade ascended the stairs. "How is she?"

"Still faring better than I had hoped," Groves replied honestly, already wishing he could go back to her, already replaying his last visit with her. He glanced at the horizon. "I do not like the looks of those clouds on the horizon."

"Those were spotted a while ago," Norrington calmly replied. "The men have been put on alert. Officer Gale has been assigned to the crow's nest. He is to report any indication of wind changes, as well as any possible sightings of the Pearl."

Groves nodded, his spirits sinking a bit about the news. He hoped they weren't too far behind Jack. The sooner the voyage proved Emma's confessions correct, the sooner he could plan on how to set her free.

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

Gibbs and the other crewmen climbed to their feet, having been knocked over by another wave that had crashed on deck. They had seen clouds earlier, but they didn't resemble storm clouds, so they had been taken by surprise.

"Secure the ropes for the sails!"

"Make the knots tight!"

"Tighten the rudder!"

"Pull, ya bloomin' cockroaches, pull!"

Jack remained at the wheel, keeping her hard to starboard so she wouldn't fight against the wind. Fighting against it would risk more damage to the Pearl.

He glanced at the compass in his hand, making sure they were still somewhat on course.

"Captain!" Gibbs shouted from nearby, his hands grappling one of the ropes as Marty struggled to knot and secure it. "Should we sail hard to port now?"

"No!" Jack shouted back without turning his head, not giving Barbossa a chance to respond. "She'll ease off in a little while, then she'll take us where she wants us to go!"

"How do you know that?"

"'Water and Wind,' matey! 'Water and Wind!'"