Disclaimer: Pfft! Disney! They own this stuff, not me. In fact, I'm enslaved to Johnny Depp, rather than the other way around.

AN: Good Lord! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to update! Please forgive me! My muse decided to take an extended leave of absence without telling me, and left me here in the dust, as well as me being bogged down with a little thing called Real Life, which chose to intrude itself on my lovely and very carefully constructed little fantasy world. *Sigh* Anyway, thanks for sticking around! At least, I hope you've stuck around, because I'm not done yet! This is far from over! So here's the next chapter, without further ado!

Chapter Thirteen

The last time Nora had been in Tortuga, she would've given anything to get out. Now, she was happy to be back, taking in the surroundings, savoring the sounds and smells. The streets were swarming with thieves, whores, pirates, and other unsavory characters, and Nora loved it. She had learned her way around town following her father as he made the rounds of the pubs.

Now she was by the side of another pirate, one with an unsteady swaggering gait, very much unlike that of Robert Williams, with oversized arm gestures, beads hanging from his hair, and kohl-rimmed brown eyes. As she walked with him through the streets, she pondered the differences between this man, Jack Sparrow, and her father.

Robert Williams had always been remarkably dignified for a pirate. He had dressed neatly and cleanly, he hadn't drunk much, and he had walked straight and tall and with nobility. But somehow, he had befriended Jack, who was so different from him. Nora had once wondered why. She clearly remembered her first sight of Jack, all those years ago. She had been 12, he no more than 16 or 17, her father's new cabin boy, and deck hand. Even then, when he was still so young, his appearance had been striking. No beard yet, and fewer beads, not nearly so many accessories, but the flamboyant personality and roguish smile had all been there. But inwardly, Robert Williams and Jack Sparrow were remarkably alike. They were both intelligent, ruthless, and at heart good men.

He was smiling now, but Nora knew Jack well enough to realize that it wasn't genuine. They had discovered very little so far, and Jack was in a bad mood about it. He didn't like not being able to get what he wanted. He had consumed a lot of rum, but he held his drink very well, despite the show he put on, staggering through the streets. Nora knew he was actually quite alert, had been all night in his subtle probing of locals and visitors alike in the taverns. They had discovered that Billy's ship had been sighted not far from Nassau Port, but the actual date of the sighting was in doubt, and the source was a perpetually drunken sailor who was constantly making up stories to get a few pence from the gullible.

Nora was just as low-spirited as Jack, if not moreso. And Jack, always tactful, wasn't helping things much when he spoke up.

"Well, I hate to say it love, but I told ya so."

"You don't have to rub it in, you ruddy bastard."

Jack's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Now, that was uncalled for. I did what I could, didn't I?"

By this time, they were heading back towards the docks, and Jack made a show of putting his arm around her shoulders. Nora shrugged him off.

"You of all people should have a little sympathy. I seem to recall something similar happening to you!"

Jack was suddenly serious. "Aye, that it did love, and I do feel for your plight. But there's not much else you or I or anyone can do right now. The best we can do is head back out to sea and keep our eyes and ears peeled. We'll find Billy eventually."

Nora nodded in resignation. Jack's logic was irrefutable. There was no sense in wasting away here in Tortuga; nothing to be gained by it.

Jack graciously invited Nora to his cabin as usual, once back on board, but for once Nora refused the offer, despite Jack's obvious disappointment. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She sat on her cot, deep in thought. She constantly fingered the medallion, her most prized possession, and re-read her father's last letter to her. She nearly had it memorized, and not just the words, but the handwriting, the smell of the ink and the parchment, the feel of it in her hands.

"I'm sorry Papa. I've failed you." She whispered to the note. She began reading over it one last time before turning in for the night, when she noticed something.

The cove on the northeastern tip of the island was always our favorite spot.

She stared at it for a moment, wondering if it really meant what she thought it might mean. Then she got up quickly and ran out of her own cabin to Jack's. She pounded on his door and when he answered he had obviously not been asleep, but drinking.

"Well, hello love. Reconsidered my offer, have you?" he smiled seductively. Nora shoved past him into the cabin. He looked at her, confused.

"Jack," she said, "we have to go back to the island."