((Just a heads up, these events are all happening before Norrington even meets Elizabeth and helps fish Will out of the water, though that will occur relatively soon. Also, if you've never seen Jack Davenport in "The Incredible Journey of Mary Bryant" then I suggest you do. He's spectacular in it, you both love and hate him-which is what I'm going for in this story as well.))

1729, England

It had taken entirely too long to get here, thought Ashlynne as she frowned into the pint at hand, watching the revelry of her fellow shipmates in front of her. Of course, since last year, many bribes had had to be made, old favors called in, new identities invented, disguises learned and adapted to in order to get here. Given these facts, perhaps she should be thankful that she was this far already, a day and a half away from setting sail for the Caribbean on board one of His Majesty's vessels. Instead, she found herself tapping her fingers on the table in front of her, impatient for the next minute pass, wanting time to go faster and slower all at once.

"Hey! Ash-boy!"

Ashlynne perked up and looked over to find her cabin mate, the midshipman Groves, swerving towards her. Though he had been the instigator of her nickname—an unfortunate accident with misfiring a gun had left her face covered in black powder residue and he'd found it necessary to make a pun on her name—she liked him well enough. He wasn't too pushy with personal facts, took her at face value, and respected her privacy—a feature that left most of her other shipmates flabbergasted that such a youth would be so private.

In fact, her friendship with him was part of what had kept her sex a secret thus far. He was also picky about being seen half naked—his father had been a cleric and his mother a clerics daughter—and did not like the physical banter most of the sailors did—though he was an excellent boxer when it came down to it—and was considered hoity-toity by the others for his unwillingness to carouse with loose women. As she came across as the same, though a much younger version—she was passing herself off as a young clerk after all—it was only natural, in everyone's minds, that they would fall in together as mates both on duty and off.

"Why aren't you out there dancing with the lads?" He asked, his words slurring only slightly. He'd apparently had more than a few pints already. "This is our last shore leave before we set off for the wild, blue yonder."

Ashlynne grunted, making sure to keep her voice low and uneven like that of a teenage boy, "Ye ken I am only good on me feet when I'm on a ship." She'd managed to convince the lot of them that she was a graceless, lanky youth only good with papers, writing, and minimal fighting. "Besides I donna want to risk gettin' swallowed by her." She jutted her chin towards the rather well endowed bar maid named Martha who was again making her rounds of kissing the sailors on the dance floor.

"Scared of a little kiss are you?" Groves chuckled. He glanced down at her half drunken pint and frowned. "You are not much for celebrating are you? Were you not the one that's been so eager to set sail all this time? Now here we are, only days away from setting sail, and you're not even smiling."

"What 'ave I got to smile about? That new lieutenant is gonna make my life a livin' hell I ken it."

Groves only laughed at her discomfort. He wasn't going to argue though, she knew. Lieutenant James Norrington had joined the crew only a month or so before and had, in that short amount of time, managed to change the daily duties of nearly every sailor on board. He had forced all of them to retrain in every weapon and procedure and required Ash to take out every report ever written about or for the ship and crew and file it away in a completely new fashion. Due to her accent and youth—they teased her about her lack of scruff-he'd challenged her education and writing skills and had made her read a number of anthologies on past naval exploits and write reports to him, in English, French, and Latin. She'd only really struggled on the Latin thankfully. She sheer amount of work she'd had to do in addition to her regular duties had left her with a headache most days and an intense dislike for the lieutenant.

He had a knack for finding fault in everyone around him and pushed everyone to exceed any previous level met-this in and of itself would not be a bad thing if he wasn't such an ass about it. These things were a damned nuisance, yes, but what kept all of them from hating him out rightly was the knowledge that his father had been one of the best admirals in the king's navy and with a father like that anyone was be bound to be a picky prick of sorts. There was even talk about a sordid history involving pirates-if she remembered correctly the lieutenant's father had become indebted to a pirate for saving his son-but no one mentioned it whenever he was around. They dared not mention anything other than things that pertained to their duties.

Of course, as she observed, the lieutenant held himself to the same high standards that he held all others to, if not higher. His dedication to the men around him and his passion for justice were obvious to all, more qualities that kept the lot of them from wanting to smother him in his sleep. This drive for perfection would lead him to an early grave, she always thought any pursuit of perfection would lead to death. Ashlynne wondered if he even slept at night since he always seemed to find something to criticize or attempt to perfect. Perhaps his mind was always swimming with new schemes for betterment.

In addition to his nitpicking, Ashlynne had more reason to feel uncomfortable in his presence. He was a keen observer and more than once had nearly caught her doing something that could have given away her sex: brushing her hair away from her face-she'd had to crop it shorter than most to keep it out of her face-her restraint in physical touch with others, her "delicate" response to the jovial crew, covering her mouth when sneezing or coughing, refraining from the physical banter between the sailors, scratching at the bindings over her chest, etc. She'd been lucky so far, of this she knew, since most people overlooked the clerk except whenever they wanted a file or to write a report. But Lieutenant Norrington was not most people and that had her worried.

"He's not so bad Ashlin." Groves picked up his pint and swallowed the last dregs of it. "You'll just need to stay on your toes around him. His discipline and unwillingness to accept a job half done will probably save the lot of us."

Ashlynne nodded. While the crew had not been horrible before Norrington's arrival they had lacked a certain level of discipline. She should actually be thankful for Norrington's presence. At least with him on board the pranks were less likely to happen. She took a sip of her pint at the thought of the numerous pranks she'd had to scrape through over the past few months.

A number of her shipmates had taken a fancy to the idea of educating her, a poor, sheltered lad of eighteen, in the ways of the world. On board, they'd make sure to tell sordid stories whenever she was present, as well as strip naked and show off scares or growths in their efforts to get a rise out of her. At every opportunity on shore leave, they inevitably would find some way to throw one or two or even three barmaids at her, all paid to try to kiss her or grope her. It had taken careful maneuvering and quick thinking to make excuses for her hasty retreats. The retreats were always made easier whenever Groves was nearby and thus she tried to attach herself to his side whenever they were on shore leave.

The three crew members who were the most aggressive in their efforts to hedon-ize her were George Hardy, John Thomas, and Henry Davies. The ship's cooper, Hardy was a tall, burly man, hard to avoid seeing at his height or berth. At heart he was a man of justice and loyal to his friends but on the outside he was a lover of starting quarrels, for the fun of quarreling. He was born of the leprechauns in Ashlynne's opinion, full of mischief and a lover of money.

The second most aggressive was John Thomas, one of gunners of the ship. He was not much older than her in reality and was a fine lad to banter with, when he wasn't under the influence of Hardy. He had the heart of a lover but the body of a bullfighter. The third most aggressive was Henry Davies, the surgeon's mate, a man devoted to his mother. When asked whom he loved most, his wife or his mother, he always chose his mother, though Ashlynne suspected that was because his wife was the world's most annoying nag.

A crash suddenly echoed through the tavern followed by loud curses and a few screams. Ashlynne watched in fascination as a beautiful young woman began to run down the stairs from above, covered in blue paint, followed closely by a man covered in red paint and another man, though he was clean compared to the other two. The two men were cursing in Italian while the woman was yelling in French. As she watched the commotion unfolding she realized that one of the Italians, the clean one, was one of her previous contacts from Venice. Gabriel had helped her procure a number of items for the scientific society, though always for a price.

"What in heavens name is going on?" Groves spoke nearby, standing up to get a better look at the group.

Ashlynne had to respect the woman for having such a large vocabulary, she hadn't heard such creative French cursing since her friend Francois had found out his fiancé had run off with an Englishman. As she watched and listened she smiled, finding the curses amusing. Martha had gone closer and was trying her best to calm the group down while her own shipmates had ceased their revelry and were now craning their necks to see if any action was about to take place.

Martha was getting nowhere, the French woman was too interested in yelling at the Italians while the Italians were too preoccupied with yelling back and trying to clean off the paint to pay any heed to the poor bar maid. When she spotted a copper hovering at the door she sighed and stood up. She was probably the only one in the room who understood all the languages being yelled. If someone didn't step in soon then Gabriel would most likely end up with a fine if not worse, and she knew if she did him this favor now then later on down the road he'd have to repay in kind.

She tapped Groves on the shoulder to let him know of her intentions and he walked with her over to the group. Upon spotting her through the crowd Gabriel's face whitened only slightly—their last meeting had been her threatening to castrate him if he ever tried to double cross her again—before he nudged his friend and whispered something in his ear. His friend stopped yelling and also looked over at her. The woman, finding that the men were no longer yelling at her, also stopped yelling and turned attention to Ashlynne.

She quickly asked Gabriel what had happened, hoping that no one was guessing that they were previous associates. For his part Gabriel merely spoke to her as if she were no one to him. The French woman interrupted a number of times, this time in Italian as well, until she finally had drawn out the events that had lead to such an argument. She could barely keep from laughing but instead turned to Martha.

"It seems that this woman, Georgette, got into a 'eated discussion with this man 'ere, Antonio, as to whose room was at the end of the hall and whose room was in the loft. 'aving taken a dislikin' to somethin' that he called her she used the paint intended for your walls as retaliation. Not to be outdone he repaid her in kind. The argument became even more 'eated when this man, Gabriel, decided to come to his friend's rescue."

Martha stared wide eyed at the threesome for a moment before looking back to Ashlynne. "I'd like to know who's going to be paying for that paint! The whole lot of them can remove themselves until the damage has been paid for!"

Ashlynne relayed the information to Gabriel who glanced at Georgette then at Antonio. Georgette crossed her arms and glared at them, obviously unwilling to pay a shilling. Ashlynne made eye contact with Gabriel and covertly indicated the copper still hovering near the doorway. Gabriel stiffened, probably not wanting to meet any form of police force, and spoke hurriedly to Antonio who, for his part, slumped his shoulders and nodded.

"The men will pay for the damages as well as for the replacement paint." Georgette spoke up, tugging at her dress and growling at Italians. "The woman is wonderin' if you have a washroom that she may clean up in."

Martha nodded, "I'll show her." She reached forward and took Georgette's arm, throwing her own heated glare at the pair of Italians, before moving off down a hall.

Gabriela and Antonio moved to back up the stairs. Gabriel gave her a nod and she smiled slightly in return. Once they'd removed themselves, the music began again and the tavern was once more filled with the sounds of revelry. Groves' voice near her ear made her jump slightly.

"That was quite impressive. I did not know that you spoke Italian."

Ashlynne smiled, "I 'ave traveled quite a bit over the years. To be precise I ken five languages: French, Gaelic, German, Italian, and Spanish."

"Actually that is not true," Groves drawled, "You know six languages, how else could you be conversing here in English?"

Ashlynne rolled her eyes at her friend. They returned to their table where they continued to trade jabs at one another. They were in the midst of an argument over the state of the French and English rivalry when they were interrupted yet again.

"Fancy seeing you here." a voice cut through the air like a sharp blade.

"Sally, how on earth did you get here?" Groves stood from the table and all but gaped at the short woman suddenly standing before him. "Why are you here?"

Lady Sally Williams glared at Groves with her hands on her hips. She was disguised as a washerwoman and despised every moment she had to stand there covered in her filthy rags. Being disguised was the only way she could get past her father, and sadly, the only way she could get close to Groves without him immediately sending her back to her father's house. The daughter of one of the richest merchants who'd been awarded a lordship due to his exploits at sea, she had met Groves a few months prior at a ball. He had been there by invitation from one of his cousins, the trusted family cleric of the Williams family, and had met and sparked the interest of young Lady Sally.

For his part he was flattered by her interest and did not, at first, dissuade her letters or attention. However, after about the third time of her finding him while on shore leave, he began to put distance between them, afraid of a scandal as well as afraid of being roped into a match he was not interested in. It was not that the lady was not beautiful. Her black hair was a mass of curls woven in and out of a red scarf that tied around her head. Though short, she still had enough womanly curves to be considered very attractive and this showed through the ragged dress that covered her body. Her skin was creamy white and had a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks and nose, offsetting her chocolate brown eyes. She was quite beautiful to look at, even Ashlynne could see that, but it was her forceful nature and annoying habit of always showing up at random moments that made Groves a bit frightened of her. She took after her father in that when she saw something she wanted she went after it, like a tenacious bee.

"What does it matter when I'm finally here where I want to be?" Sally shook her small fist in Groves face, "This time you're not getting rid of me so easily!"

Ashlynne began to laugh at the memory of Sally's last "visit." She had come in the guise of an urchin to the tavern and had followed them through the markets then and had almost gotten away with it. If it had not been for Ashylnne's keen observation she probably would've followed them back to the docks. Upon discovering her, Groves had gone red in the face, out of anger or fear Ashlynne was not sure, and had as gently as possible escorted Sally back to her neighborhood where he left her near her house. She'd only left him be when he threatened to tell her father of her disguises and sneaking around.

"What's going to stop me? I already told you that if I caught you again I would tell your father about all this sneaking about. Do you think he'll ever let you out of the house again once he knows?" Groves stepped forward to take her elbow.

"I'll tell him that it was your idea. I'll tell him that you cannot live without me." Sally countered.

Ashlynne shook her head with a smile, "I do believe she fancies herself in love with ye."

"Too bad she's wasting her time!" Groves growled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not interested in marrying her!"

Ashlynne watched as Sally winced at his words. He did not seem to notice the effect his words had and instead slumped back into his seat. Ashlynne glared over at Groves. He looked up and caught her glare and held up his hands.

"What? I exchange a few pleasantries with her and now I'm expected to marry her merely because she's convinced herself that I'm her true love?" Groves shook his head and looked back up at Sally. "You do not want to marry me Lady Sally. I am already married to the navy. You are the daughter of a lord," Groves stood again and lowered his voice to a gentle whisper, "you cannot expect that he'd ever approve of a match with me."

Sally clenched her jaw, "You must think me a daft fool." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; Ashlynne knew the woman was fighting tears. When she opened her eyes again there was a fire in them that surprised Groves. "You're right, Theodore Groves, you're not man enough for me. It has been most amusing knowing you. I will not bother you again."

She gave a shallow curtsy before turning on her heel and weaving through the crowd towards the door. Ashlynne watched Groves open and close his mouth in surprise a few times before she sighed and stood up.

"I'll go talk to her but ye should follow shortly. She'll need someone to escort her back to her 'ouse and I think it should be ye." She didn't wait for a reply before she walked after Sally. She caught up with her just outside the tavern. The woman was leaning against the wall, a handkerchief dabbing at her eyes. "He just likes to be the one in pursuit, not the one pursued." She watched as Sally tensed at her voice but when the woman noted who she was she slumped back against the wall. "Ye should remember his upbringin'. He is nay used to the idea of a woman bein' so forward as ye are."

Sally sniffed, her voice laced with bitterness, "You have to understand, my father only ever lets me associate with young dandies who all are eager to please him and not me. Theodore was the first man who did not know who I was when we first met. He only saw me as a pretty woman at a ball. He teased me, Ashlin, something no one has ever done before." She sighed and shook her head. "I cannot help myself when it comes to him. He's so different from all the rest. I do not want to marry any of the men my father expects me to. They would treat me as property where I know whomever Theodore marries he will treat as a queen. How can anyone expect me to act different in light of this fact?"

"Well," Ashlynne scratched her head and shrugged, "that may be true but perhaps ye should reconsider how ye approach the man eh? Mayhaps reevaluate your offensive maneuvers. He's a naval man, Lady Sally; approach him with strategy like a naval captain. I promise ye, he'll respond to clever strategy with more warmth than blatant aggression."

Sally looked at Ashlynne more directly then, her gaze intense and calculating. Ashlynne suddenly felt that she'd said too much, given away too much, and feared that the woman would guess her sex. In all the tales of cross dressers that she knew, it was always members of the same sex who guessed the true nature of the cross dresser.

"How old are you Ashlin?" Sally stood up and faced her, tucking away the handkerchief.

"Eighteen, my lady." Ashlynne fell back on the rules of propriety to protect herself. In reality she was older than Lady Sally by four years but in her disguise the woman was merely a year older than herself.

"You are very wise for your age, Ashlin. Thank you." Sally reached out and laid her hand on Ashlin's forearm, surprising both of them.

Ashlynne cleared her throat, "Well, Groves is goin' to return ye to yer father's house." Groves had just begun to approach them, his eyes noting Sally's hand on Ashlynne's arm with confusion, as she said this. Sally didn't look too pleased but nodded. She let her hand fall from Ashlynne's arm and gave her a small smile. Ashlynne bowed her head and stepped away, watching with amusement as Groves glared at her before turning his attention towards the small woman in front of him.

As they walked away Ashlynne wished she could be privy to whatever conversation they were about to have. In the mean time, however, she needed a privy. She'd had entirely too much ale that evening. She wandered around to the backside of the tavern and pushed inside one of the doors, hoping that it'd be the privy.

Instead of a privy she found herself in the washroom. Hearing some noises off to her left she looked over and mentally yelled at herself not to blush when she found herself staring at three dripping wet men, all naked as the day they were born. It wasn't that she had never seen a naked man before, just not so many at once—even the natives she'd encountered had had loin clothes—and so close to her proximity. It took all the will power in her to keep her eyes above the waist and a furious blush from her face.

"Oi!" Having spotted her, Hardy drew closer and Ashlynne knew better than to stand still while the mischievous man made himself a threat. "What are you waiting for Ash-boy? This your last chance for a good scrub and with the help of a might pretty bunch of lasses." He threw a lusty glance over his shoulder at Mary and Martha—Ashlynne would never be able to hear the biblical story the same way again thanks to these two wenches—who for their part only adjusted the straps of their bodices to reveal, if possible, more skin.

"I donna think I need anyone's ;elp gettin' clean but thank ye." She still kept her eyes above the waist but kept her eyes forward, smart enough to know better than to turn her back on these men.

Hardy signaled to Thomas who in turn nudged Davies. Ashlynne gulped. If she didn't beat a hasty retreat she'd be stripped in no time and then where would that leave her? A dripping, naked mess in a room full of equally naked and soon to be scandalized men. Where was Groves when she needed him?

"Well I say you stink and need a good washing." Hardy stalked closer, his eyes a light with mischief.

Ashlynne moved back with every step Hardy and the others took forward, her eyes darting from one man to another. Davies and Thomas began to try to flank her while Hardy continued his forward assault. She had nothing on her that she could use as a weapon or at least as a diversion so she could run away. It was just her clothes and her and it was looking like if she didn't work fast it'd just be her, sans clothes.

"I can wash myself, Hardy. Thomas donna e'en think about it! Davies, I swear, I'm gonna find yer mum and tell her all about this if you donna stop!" Neither of the men hesitated as they continued forward.

Where was that bloody door? Surely it would be behind her by now!

"Och come on lad! It'll only hurt for a wee bit!" Davies threw Hardy and Thomas a grin.

Ashlynne shook her head, "I'd rather not find out." She turned on her heel and lunged for the door.

A hand suddenly grabbed her by the clothing around her neck and pulled her backwards. Before she knew what she was doing, she kicked back with one of her feet, catching him in the shin, brought up her fist and hit him in the nose, then threw the stunned man over her shoulder. He landed with a thud at her feet and lay still for only a moment before his arm swept out and caught her ankles. She too landed with a thud beside him and didn't move for a moment as the breath began to come back into her body.

"I didn't know you had that in you!" Hardy was laughing at her side, thankfully he seemed to have set aside his quest for washing her and was instead amused with her ability to best him, though briefly.

Suddenly Thomas and Davies were standing above her, offering her and Hardy their hands. As she allowed Thomas to help her up, she averted her eyes as much as possible but found it quite hard considering the fact that he was proudly standing naked before her. Once standing, she quickly withdrew her hand from Thomas' and edged away from them.

"Oh it's all right lad, we will not force you anymore. I think Hardy's proof enough for us that you are not interested in the lasses aid." Davies chuckled. "I think you smell fine enough for a clerk. Besides, if the new lieutenant does not like the way you smell you will just have to answer to him."

Ashlynne nodded, though she didn't let down her guard, "I guess I will just 'ave to take that chance now willnae I?"

The men laughed and nodded. As Martha and Mary stepped forward with their clothes, Ashlynne retreated from the room. That had been entirely too close for comfort and she knew in her bones that it was only going to get worse once they set sail. Thankfully she was berthed in the cockpit with only Groves so that afforded some buffer between her and the rest of the men but still, she knew that for the next few months at sea, there could not be one moment where she let down her guard or else her family would be doomed.