A/N: Sorry I took so long, I just started college! :O Woohoo! And "Oh-no" at the same time!

Duty Bound

James was still standing on the balcony when Jo stepped into the room. She did not notice his presence and he did not notice hers. Jo ran behind the dressing screen and took off her dress. Norrington finally turned at the sound of a dagger being unsheathed and frustrated oaths being sworn. He whirled around to see Jo, who had been fumbling with the lacing of her stays, had finally given up and proceeded to cut the ties asunder.

"Miss Hall . . ." Norrington finally managed to say.

Josephine looked up with a gasp and locked eyes with the Commodore. She reddened then shifted her sight to the abused stays in her hand. "I'm sorry," she said with an obvious show of embarrassment. "I just couldn't endure their digging into my hips each time I sat down much longer."

"I-I understand," James stammered for the sake of saying something, for of course he had no understanding what so ever.

Silence lay thick in the air as both of them tried to think of something else to say to get them out of this awkward predicament. Norrington decided to say nothing and instead turned his back to Jo.

"When you are decent I would like to have a word with you," he said in a slightly commanding voice.

"Yes, Commodore," replied Jo. "When you are decent" suddenly reminded Jo of the large gap that existed between he and she. A gap that had somehow evaded her memory throughout the entire course of the morning. She was a pirate, a no good, dirty pirate. Jo was surprised by the sudden twinge of despair that stirred in her heart.

Suddenly one of the maids walked into the room with a fresh gown in her arms.

"Here you are, miss. This pale green gown will go well with your dark hair, I think."

"Thank you," Jo said quickly and looked over her shoulder at the balcony. The Commodore was nowhere to be seen.

"Is there something the matter, miss?" the maid asked, noticing her distraction.

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all."

The maid shrugged and then proceeded to help her with the gown. Jo was this time put in a stomacher, which laced up the back. She inwardly groaned. This meant she could not get it off without calling for assistance.

When the maid finished she helped her with the gown and then did up her hair in a bun with ringlets falling from it. Jo thanked her again and waited until she had left the room to turn to the balcony.

"Is she gone?" came the Commodore's muffled voice from behind the balcony curtains.

"Yes," she said with a slight giggle, but then remembered the present situation and sobered. "She is gone, and I am coming."

"Do you drink rum, Commodore?" Jo asked, standing next to the Commodore on the balcony. She was still struggling with the image of an upstanding man, such as he, drinking rum.

Immedietley, Norrington knew what she was referring to. "I found your brother with the bottle we use for cooking when I was on my way to check on you. He had already half emptied it that night. I had taken it from him and forgot to get rid of it when I fell asleep in that chair."

"Oh." Jo turned her head from his direction and the sea breeze lifted her hair.

"Miss Hall---"

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

"Miss Hall?"

"Yes?" Jo's reply was testy this time.

"How are you fairing?"

"Oh, much better, Commodore, thank-you."

The Commodore cleared his throat. "I do sincerely dread telling you this, but I know I will have to eventually, so I will say it now. Once you are fully recovered, I am duty bound to return you to the prison."

Josephine took a large step back, away from Norrington.

"Miss Hall, I--"

"No . . . No, I understand," Jo replied, her voice betraying her feelings through a slight quiver, her face was like stone. The pirate-woman turned her face from Norrington and looked down at the points of her shoes.

Norrington knew that there was naught else to say, so with a slight bow he quickly departed from the room.

Jo listened to the Commodore's brisk footsteps fade away, then she gripped the balcony railing and let the sobs force her to her knees and she wept bitterly.

Jack eventually found her and tried to console her as best he could.

"If we're not hung separately, then we'll most assuredly be hung together," he offered weakly. Josephine sniffed and placed her hands over the ones Jack had on her shoulders.

James sat in his study chair and poured himself a glass of port. Port always helped him to relax, and he did his best thinking when he was relaxed. Before he knew it one glass became two, two became five, then ten, then twelve . . .