"If you think I'm going to allow you to-"

Ashlynne raised a hand and interrupted her friend before he could continue, "There is nay 'allow' or 'not allow' in this situation Parlan." She knew he was glaring at her but continued working at the ropes in her lap instead of acknowledging his frustration. She needed to be sure that the knots were sure and that there were no unraveling parts. She certainly didn't want to be dangling over the side of the building and then have the rope break, causing her to fall into the middle of the barracks parade grounds. That would certainly be a hard thing to explain away, or escape from unscathed. "It needs to be done and I'm the only one who can do it."

"Stop using your curse as an excuse to be an idiot! There are other ways of getting the list." Parlan moved closer and knelt down by her side, drawing her eyes away from the ropes and towards his face. He reached out and laid a hand on her knee and Ashlynne could tell that he was trying his hardest to not yell at her. "You shouldn't go anywhere near that man, Ashynne. You know and I both know that. He's as much of a curse to you as that damned pendant."

Ashlynne patted his hand, in reassurance or placation she didn't even know. She did know Parlan was right though; bad things always happened whenever she was around James. Either he inadvertently killed her or he purposefully said something stupid to hurt her, and she would usually do something rash and impulsive in turn-like kiss him... Her dogged insistence to love him was a nuisance to them both. When she'd last seen him at Tortuga, chasing after Elizabeth and Sparrow, she'd recognised the fact that in spite of everything she still loved him. How that was even possible threw her, like a barrel of whiskey poured down her throat.

"Well, since you were kind enough to inform him of my curse, it willna be as much of a shock to him that I am alive and will thus make it easier to reason with him. If he's smart, he'll hand the list over with nay a fuss and I'll be out of his life and well away from him before sunrise."

Ashlynne of course spoke of the list that had been in the chest with the dagger. This list, as they'd been told by the innkeeper's daughter-her unfortunate detainment in Tortuga had been a blessed surprise for them all-contained other items that were as equally cursed as the pendant she wore. The dagger would only work to free her from the pendant's curse if she also had one other cursed item, making a perfect triangle of curses that could cancel each other out. A novice at witchcraft and curses, the innkeeper's daughter hadn't been helpful beyond that much and also hadn't been able to tell them what items exactly were on the list or who had which item. All she had been able to say was that the man in charge of investigating the murder had kept some of the things in the chest, and that most likely included the list.

Parlan and Ashlynne both knew that James had been that man and they both knew-thanks to the recent return of a disappointed and mourning Gibbs-that he had taken Jones' chest and returned to Port Royal. They'd managed to sneak into the harbour two days before and now they sat on a deserted beach just to the west of the harbour readying themselves for evenings activities. Parlan was to stand guard at the rear entrance of the barracks while Ashlynne snuck in. They'd contacted Groves soon after their arrival and, after they explained why they'd returned, he'd told them which room James was staying in and had also gone the extra mile of making sure to post a new recruit at the rear entrance, thus making it easier to sneak in. With his room on the third level of the officer's quarters, the easiest way of entering and exiting unencumbered would be to repel downwards from the roof. This part, along with the fact that she'd be dealing with James at all, was what had Parlan up in arms. He understood as well as she that this had to be done if she was ever to be free to live and die as she was intended, but his loyalty to her and his tendency to overprotect was getting in the way of reason.

"What if he doesn't hand the list over? What if he raises the alarm? What then?" Parlan sat beside her in the sand and picked up the other end of the rope, beginning to inspect it as well.

Ashlynne sighed, "Well we all ken how successful they'd be at killin' me, we all ken how well James has handled killin' me in the past, and at least we both ken that he has nay other choice." She patted the satchel at her side with a resigned smile. She'd already managed to do the impossible, although it really hadn't been as hard as escaping the shah's palace in India years before. The night before had been spent raiding Beckett's private vault in his mansion on the hill. Like the arrogant idiot that he was, his hubris his ideas of untouchability, he'd stored the chest there, making it that much easier for Ashlynne and Parlan to acquire. It was her bargaining chip and it was what, in her mind, would guarantee James' cooperation.

"But," Parlan stopped his movements and glanced over at her, "what if he asks you to forgive him?" His voice lowered and he pressed on, "What if he tries to get you to turn yourself in, promising you that he's changed and he'll never try to hurt you again?"

"I highly doubt he'd say anythin' like that." Ashlynne quickly replied, although from the rapidity of her response they both knew that she wasn't nearly as confident in her answer as she'd like to believe.

She honestly didn't know what she'd do if he tried to say anything as audacious as "forgive me" or "stay with me" or such nonsense as that. Ashlynne knew that James had changed drastically since she'd last seen him. He'd descended into a self-imposed hell and she'd seen the last bit of it before he'd taken off with Sparrow on his fool's errand. Perhaps the time there had humbled him, allowed him to reconsider his black/white views on justice and life. If so, and he did start to say or do crazy things unlike what he might've done before, Ashlynne feared what her response would be. Did she have the nerve to resist him if he pleaded with her? Did she have the resolve to walk away before he lashed out at her?

"How about this," Ashlynne began to coil the rope, satisfied that there were no problems with it, "if I am nay back in one hour, you come in after me. Drag me out by my hair if you need to, but get me out of there."

"Your hair?" Parlan chuckled. "Now that'd be a fine sight. You most definitely deserve it too, after all the hell you've put me through. Your sister and cousin too."

Ashlynne well remembered her sister's reaction when she'd first come home from her errand with Sparrow. That she'd not immediately come home and instead had dawdled in the tavern with Gibbs and Sparrow had immediately sent Hope into a fit. She begun lecturing Ashlynne on her health, on Sparrow's heath, on staying out of trouble, or trying to make a good name for themselves, and etc. Ashlynne had to admit that after about twenty minutes of lecture she'd stopped listening. Then when she'd gone and admitted that she'd seen James, Hope and surprisingly Devlin, had both launched into how James had looked, the problems of their relationship, how important it was for both of them to move on, and again etc. Ashlynne hadn't been in the mood to listen to that bit of lecture and it was only due to her years of learning will power and control that had allowed her to sit still at the kitchen table. "listening" to her family without shouting at them in return.

"Ready?" Parlan asked, interrupting her wandering thoughts.

With a nod they stood and hurried through towards their target, blending into the shadows as much as possible as the light of day died and night came upon Port Royal. The poor recruit that Parlan rendered unconscious at the rear entrance to the barracks was barely above sixteen if the baby fat in his cheeks and lack of stubble on his chin was evidence for his age. Climbing up to the roof proved more tedious than Ashlynne expected and at first she feared Parlan had already started counting down the hour but when she turned and could still spot him in the shadows, and knew that he too could see her outline, she knew he would start counting the moment her form disappeared from sight. That was the beauty of working with him, after so many years together they knew they could depend upon each as the left arm depends upon the right. Never did Ashlynne view Parlan as more than her other half, a constant in her nomadic life. Their relationship was kin to the camaraderie soldiers share after months living in a trench together. They were of the same blood, the same breath, but it was not in the slightest romantic. She'd never felt the urge to embrace him as more than what he was, and she trusted that he felt neither the inclination as well. She hoped that one day life could be stable enough so that he could perhaps depart from her side for awhile, find a woman to love, start a family, and live as he was intended. Ashlynne knew that as long as her life, or the lives of her family, were in danger he would never leave. That was as equal a motivator to her current actions as her own desire to be free of the curse.

Renewing her resolve, Ashlynne made quick work of securing the rope to the foundation of one of the chimneys that dotted the rooftop. There was very little lighting on the compound aside from a few lights from the windows of barracks and a single fire kept burning in the central area of the parade ground. It would be difficult to spot her unless someone knew to look. Making a loop around her waist, Ashlynne moved towards the edge. Groves had assured her that he would leave the window unlocked, so that she wouldn't have to risk breaking the glass. He had surprisingly not been reluctant to help them, even after all the trouble she'd caused them. He'd confessed that she hoped she would succeed so that not only she could be free of the curse but also James could be free of whatever curse he'd put upon himself. Groves had called James, "a wild-eyed thing," and had barely recognized him when he'd first returned. Ashlynne well understood the sentiment.

Ashlynne was mindful of where she placed her feet, and kept her arms locked in position, as she began to lower herself over the edge of the building. When she was at the same level as James' quarters she let out the breath she'd been holding. There was no light coming from inside and she could only hope that he was out instead of asleep already. After some fancy footwork on the small windowsill, she managed to open the window and quickly dropped down inside. The curtains swayed around her body from the cool night breeze that drifted in around her. In the faint light she could make out the layout of the room: to her right, the door, a desk and chair; to her left the hearth and a large rug spread before it; in front of her a bed and a chest. Though sparsely furnished, the room was spacious and would afford her with ample amount of space to hide in wait of James' return.

She turned and shut the window, very much aware of how loud the latch was once she had it closed. She was just turning around when she spotted a shadow move among the shadows of the room. Before she could offer up a defense she was jerked away from the window and thrown upon the floor. The rug muffled the sound of her fall but landing directly on the lumpy satchel left her winded. She'd barely turned onto her back to try to rise in defense when her assailant threw himself upon her. He sat firmly upon her stomach, rendering her legs useless, and while one arm gripped painfully at her left wrist the other held the blade of a knife against her throat. Ashlynne could only breathe in slowly, trying to have her senses catch up to her new position. It was as she was slowing her breath that she recognized the scent of the man atop her and her skin burned in response.

"James?" Her voice was barely above a whisper but it echoed loud in the otherwise silent room.

The knife blade let up its pressure against her throat and the man leaned closer. She could make out his features and saw that he'd shaved and trimmed his hair, looking more like the naval officer that he'd been reinstated to be. She couldn't see his eyes though, only the frown that turned down the corners of his lips and the crease between his brows when he furrowed them.

"Ashlynne."

It was a statement, brought out of his chest like a prayerful growl. The knife blade was then replaced with his hands and while at first the pressure was light, his thumbs almost caressing the skin of her jawline, with each passing second the pressure increased until she could barely drawn in a breath at all. Would he now strangle her and see if this would be the only way to truly kill her? In some ways she felt she deserved to die at his hands, directly and not inadvertently. But then she remembered just how much pain he'd brought her as well and her desire to end the curse kicked in.

Both her arms free now, she brought her hands up to clutch at his wrists, tugging at them to get him to stop. She was surprised when he almost immediately let up on the pressure in response. Ashlynne didn't have time to cough out a question or accusation, though. She was rendered thoughtless when James' mouth sealed itself against her own in a painful reminder of just how much she still wanted him to love her truly.