*Disclaimer* Sadly enough, I don't own Will. That is all.

A/N You know, I got all ready to post this chapter and thought, "Wait...it's too short." My common sense response to this thought? "Bollocks!" And THAT is all.

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Julie tilted her head back and drank the last mouthful of her rainwater. The cool breeze blew past her bare feet, making her toes curl just a little. The stars were out tonight in clouds, bejeweling the skies with twinkling silvery points. There was no moon to blot out their light. Nights like this were the reason that Julie had any time to herself. When it was dark like this, she took a little fresh water, found an out-of-the-way spot just below the poop deck, and curled up to watch the night go by.

Unless she was in a bad mood. Then she took rum with her instead of water.

Tonight, however, it wasn't quite as quiet as it usually was. Captain Turner and Nero were apparently having a late-night game of dominos in the captain's quarters. Nero's raucous laughter and Turner's more subdued chuckle made a muffled background hum to her ruminations. It had been going on for two hours, and it seemed that they had finally decided that enough was enough. The door opened, and she heard Nero calling goodnight.

It had been fully three weeks since the Captain made his promise to her, and so far he had kept it carefully. There had been no further inquiries, no suspicious glances from the crew. In fact, sometimes she wondered if the crew was even aware of her at all. It seemed very easy for them to look over her head. So much the better, as far as she was concerned. If they were ignoring her, they weren't analyzing her, which meant that they wouldn't discover her.

Since the day of the storm, Julie's paranoia about discovery had progressed to a fevered pitch. She even resorted to a trick she had not used for quite a while--leaving her small bundle of belongings in one of the lifeboats in case she needed to make a swift escape. If she wasn't working, she was hiding somewhere on deck to escape the constant presence of bare-headed, bare-chested, hairy men, most of whom desperately needed a bath. Even when they were looking away, she couldn't escape the crawling feeling that they were watching her.

"Isn't it rather dark to be sunbathing?" Captain Turner's voice interrupted her thoughts. Speaking of being watched.

"I'm warming up slowly," Julie drawled. He came closer until he was standing beside her little nook, looking over the railing of the ship.

"Can you not sleep?" he inquired quietly, staring at the black, black waves.

"Just doing a little stargazing. You?" She kept her voice equally quiet. It almost seemed like a matter of politeness, whispering so as not to distract from the dance of stars and the soft symphony of the waves.

"I don't sleep," was Captain Turner's cryptic answer. She raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for further explanation. None was forthcoming. Julie scootched her way up the wall until she was in a standing position, then leaned over the railing next to Turner. He was picking at the railing rope, flicking bits of the sisal into the water. His eyes looked totally black in the dim starlight.

"How long have you been sailing?" Julie tensed. He was asking for more information. She didn't like it.

"Why does it matter, sir?" Her tone was perhaps a little more testy than she meant it to be.

"Either because I am curious, or because it is my duty as a captain to know the capabilities of those under my care. Pick a reason at your leisure," Will said with a faintly rogueish smile. Julie chuckled dryly.

"I have been boarding ships for pay since I was sixteen. I have been a sailor since I was seventeen. In all, I have been at sea for five years." This information was met with no response. Those eyes just continued staring out over the sea. Julie turned her attention back to the night sky, picking out the constellations used for centuries as navagatory aids.

"What's your story, sir?" She felt the Captain turn and look at her.

"What?"

"I told you my story. Now it's your turn." Maybe if she knew a little bit about him, it would offset this blasted exposed sensation she always felt around him. Her eyes still examined the stars as she waited for him to reply.

"I don't have a story." His tone was still confused. Julie laughed at him.

"Everyone has a story. There is something in your life that you consider important, isn't there?"

"There was." His tone cut Julie off. It was, rather than an answer, a firm assertion, almost as though he were giving himself an order. Julie's gaze shifted to his face. His eyebrows were knit, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"There was," He repeated. "But she's gone now." A woman. Julie remained silent. She was treading on dangerous ground now. He rubbed the thumb of his left hand across his arm absently. "She left me a little over a year ago."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Julie wasn't enjoying being on the other end of this conversation. Then, suddenly, Will's far-off gaze shifted to a much nearer point, and he frowned darkly.

"What's that?" He leaned forward some. Julie followed his eyes out over the water. A large, black shape, about half a mile away, loomed above the horizon. The only reason they could see it was that it blocked the stars. It had no running lights.

Will sprang from the lower deck onto the head and snatched the spyglass from its holder. After a moment of looking through it, he replaced it and slid down the ladder again.

"A jolly roger. They're pirates. Can you handle a sword or pistol?" Julie's heart made a quick thud-thud.

"Yes sir, both."

"Good. Raise the alarm, then open the armory. I'm going to wake Nero."

Julie slammed the hatch open and slithered belowdecks. The bell and nail stood ready for the leutenant to use it. She snatched it off the wall and hammered on it with all her might.

"Ho there! On your feet! Man your battle stations!" She howled. Clouds of raw curses and sleepy mumblings were quickly replaced by the sounds of feet hitting the floor. Julie dashed into the next room and repeated the process. "Hi-yip! Open the armory! Draw the sails! Sharp-like, men! Pirate ship incoming!"

All over, the timbers rattled as seamen scrambled toward the few gun ports or above deck. One cabin boy took a pry and snapped the lock to the armory. Julie ducked inside, leaving the door wide open so that the lamplight could get in from outside. With a quickness borne of sheer terror, she began tossing out arms one by one. Pistols, knives, sabres, all were thrown out to waiting hands.

For herself, Julie managed to secure a light sabre. Its blade was narrow from extensive use and sharpening, but the edge was bright and honed. Somewhere from within the bunkroom, she could hear their priest praying steadily and the cold sound of grinding metal as he ran a whetstone over his saracen.

As Julie ran back toward the hatch, she could already hear shouts of battle from above. Carefully, she extended her head above the deck to look at the scene that awaited.

The ship was flooded with pirates. The crew was fighting valiently, but the two-to-one odds were grim. Julie launched herself upward and rolled to her feet, sword extended. A man dressed in black oil rags launched himself at her. Julie dodged and slashed just before his pistol went off. With a spray of blood, he fell to the deck.

One down.

Julie turned just in time to see another pirate, this one wearing a hideously orange bandanna, come running at her. She ducked and held out her sword horizontally. The man rolled to the deck and whacked his head against the foot of the hindmast.

Two down.

Julie surveyed the situation again. If anything, there were more filthy theives swarming the ship than before. Some shouted "Abandon ship!" Others screamed "Death first!" Julie slashed another pirate across the back of his neck.

Three down.

Suddenly, Julie's world was rocked by a blow to her head. A hand closed around her throat from behind. In an instant, she wasn't on the "Portal" in a battle any more. She was back in every dark alley she had ever been attacked in, fighting for her life. With a scream, she brought her head back, then threw her body weight forward and heard a whoosh as her attacker's air left his lungs. She thrust her fists into his elbows and broke his grip on her neck, then turned and jammed her knee once, twice, three times into his torso. The man staggered back, doubled around himself.

Four.

"Wot-ho, boys!" A shout startled Julie. She twisted around to see a man in a black canvas greatcoat standing on one of the gunwales. His sword glistened with a red sheen of blood, and his hat was ridiculously large. His beard was almost below his chest, and a gruesome scar obscured one of his eyes. On his neck was a tattoo of a star. Julie supposed he was the leader of the pack. With great ceremony, he raised his gory weapon and laughed. "A tenth of the spoils to any man who brings me the captain's head!"

That was all Julie heard before a burning pain seized her leg in a spasm. She looked down in time to see the first man she dropped drawing his blade across her calf. A swift boot to his head sufficed to knock him away, but another pirate began making his way toward her. In his left hand was a smoking pistol. In his right he held a notched and bloody sword.

"'Ey thar, laddie. Bet yer teeth would make a nice little necklace, wot say?" Julie backed away from him, sword held up in front of her. Three steps saw her pressed against the ship railing. The evil one advanced with a cold grin. Julie dropped her sword, held up her hands...

And launched herself over the railing.

The drop seemed neverending. The shouts and noise of battle faded away as she fell down, down into the blackness. When she finally contacted the waves below, she felt the water about as soft and forgiving as a marble floor. All the air left her as she plunged into the cold sea. For an endless moment she tumbled end over end, felt herself vomit as she lost her sense of direction. Her consciousness began to fade.

Two strong pairs of hands gripped her by the arms and hauled her upward, out of the killing chill of the water. She felt wood under her again, and a rough hand slapped her on the back until she gasped in a breath.

"There now, lad. Breathe. Damned pirates." It was Nero. Even if he hadn't spoken, no one else would hit a drowning man that hard. "Jim, start rowing us away 'fore they spot us an' blow us out'n the bloody water. Breathe, damn you!" Nero decided Julie wasn't breathing deeply enough and gave her another whack for good measure. It did the trick. She coughed and gasped in a deep breath.

Pain shot through her limbs, and her injured leg began to sting with an intensity that made her cry out and fall sideways into the bottom of the boat. Nero regarded her out of the corner of his eye, then returned his attention to speaking with Red Jim, a rather largish sailor who was slow, smart, and strong as an ox.

Julie took a moment to get her bearings. The "Portal" was pulling farther and farther away with each of Jim's powerful oarstrokes. Nero knelt at the prow of the lifeboat, peering out into the water ahead. With slow, careful motions, Julie sat up to get a better look around. She quelled a quick intake of breath at what she saw.

Captain Turner was lying in the bottom of the boat. She saw no blood on him, but his eyes were closed and his limbs were sprawled limply.

"Nero..what happened to Captain Turner?"

"Got hit in the head. Damned pirates." Nero growled again. He turned around and leaned over his unconscious leader. "Wot I'd give fer a jigger o' smellin' salts. Cap'n Will!" Nero slapped Turner smartly on both cheeks at once. When he didn't respond, the slapping continued. Finally, a groan began deep in Turner's chest and increased in volume. As the sharp, pattering blows rained down, the groaning took on words.

"Aaaaall right all right all right! Nero, for two cents I'll remove your head!" Turner's hands shot up and grasped those of his navigator's.

"Good marnin', sunshine. Sit up." Nero roughly assisted his captain into an upright position. Turner stared at his ship that was quickly disappearing into the distance.

"Damn you, Nero...you should have left me with the ship!" Captain's ethics were asserting themselves even now. Nero's face split into a black-toothed grin as though he had been given a compliment.

"Ye're welcome, Cap'n. Come now, they were pirates. They'll keep the crew alive to trade, but you they would'a shot on sight."

"They were offering spoils in exchange for your head, sir." Julie spoke up. Will turned to look at her for the first time.

"Did Nero drag you on here too?"

"Not 'alf, Cap'n. The little bugger came sailin' over the railing, bloody and dead quiet. Way 'e hit the water, Jimmy an' I thought 'e were dead wot sure."

"But you are unhurt?" Julie squirmed in discomfort at the question.

"Largely, sir." As long as she didn't look at her leg, she wasn't sure whether or not it was serious. Captain Turner rubbed the swollen knot on his forehead gingerly.

"Well, Nero, what do you think?"

"Wellsir, in the Portal we were about two days away from port. Now, I'm thinkin' the current can move this little bugger a sight faster than even Red Jim can row. We pull into port, find the British Navy, an' wi' any luck, get the Portal an' 'er crew back before the damn pirates damage either one." Turner nodded thoughtfully at the rough sketch of a plan. She had no doubt they would refine it as the hours rolled on.

"What supplies do we have?" Turner inquired, peeking inside the pockets of his coats.

"Strangest thing, that. Some person loaded this here boat up wi' supplies. Crackers, rum, raisins, all that guff." Julie pretended to suddenly be very interested in one of the oil stains on her pants. "More strange still, there's a fair wad of women's clothes in 'ere. Petticoats, dress, an' a corset. Think one of the lads was smugglin' a prostitute aboard, sir?"

"Maybe..." Captain Turner and Julie exchanged glances. "But maybe not. Anyway, keep them. They might come in handy." She was glad it was dark to hide the redness she felt creeping up her neck and face.

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