Disclaimer: No, I don't own PotC. Crazy, I know.

A/N: Thank you to everyone and anyone who has reviewed this story so far. sends cookies Also, I know this story is confusing, but bare with me, pieces are gonna come together...

Lara

Chapter three

Lara continued to stare at the ceiling. The din of pots and pans being moved about was a sure sign Aunt Ivy was making breakfast. Lara blinked, thinking about her dream. The couch where she had fallen asleep was immensely uncomfortable, but she lay as still as possible, afraid any sudden moves would make the scene evaporate. A feeling of anxiousness lay over her, like a bad aftertaste. She had been very worried about something. The worries had been eased slightly, but dread still gripped her stomach. There was a woman with dark hair, and a dress that looked colonial. A man had worn a tri-cornered hat. The scene had evidently happed many years ago, if it had happened at all.

Lara scolded herself. If it had happened at all? Nonsense. It was a dream, for goodness sake. It couldn't of happened. It just...couldn't.

But it had seemed so real...

Most dreams do.

But this was different.

Oh? And how's that?

I can feel it in my gut. It was real.

In your gut? How do you know you're not just hungry? You haven't eaten yet. That could be it.

But it's not!

How do you know?

While Lara had been silently arguing with herself, she didn't hear her aunt calling to her.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, sitting up and abandoning the quarrel.

"I said do you like French toast?" her aunt shouted from the kitchen.

"Sure," answered Lara, getting up from the couch. However, she still couldn't shake the feeling of dread that hung over her like a wet blanket.

Her aunt glanced at her as Lara shuffled into the kitchen.

"You alright, Pokey? You look a bit peaky."

"I'm fine," Lara lied. The pet name, combined with the pleasant aroma of spice that saturated the kitchen had made her feel better, though not much.

Her aunt quirked an eyebrow. "You don't look fine," she said, skepticism written in every line of her aging face. "How about I fix you some tea? That always helps me feel better."

"Aunt Ivy, I'm fine, really." protested Lara, but her words fell on deaf ears. Her aunt immediately busied herself into making the tea.

"Is chamomile good?"

"Do we have any orange spice?"

" 'fraid not"

"Chamomile it is, then."

As the pair sat sipping their tea and nibbling their toast in silence, Aunt Ivy studied Lara from across the table. Something was troubling her niece, no doubt about that. Finally Lara gave in. "I had a dream last night," she said lamely. Ivy set down her mug of tea.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," said Lara. She had no choice but to continue. "It wasn't really a nightmare, and it really didn't seem like a dream. I mean, nothing seemed out of the ordinary...it was really like I was there."

"And where were you?"

Lara thought for a moment.

"I think it was a mansion or manor or something along those lines."

"Modern?"

"I don't think so. The people where dressed in a kind of Colonial style."

"What did these people look like?"

"There was a woman with dark hair, olive skin, and dark eyes. On the petite side. And a guy who sounded and looked English. Brown hair, I think."

Ivy's expression changed rather suddenly. Her face went blank for a moment, then hardened. Her questions where sharper and her speech faster.

"Did they speak?"

"Yeah."

"About what?"

Lara flailed for a minute.

"I can't remember."

"Try."

"The woman was worried about something."

"And?"

"The guy was...coming home! That's it! He'd been away for a really long time, and he was coming home!"

"Was she happy to see him?"

"Mmm-hm."

"What where the people's names?"

"I have no idea."

"None whatsoever?"

"I don't think they said."

Her aunt nodded and lay back in her chair. "And I thought it wouldn't happen," she said to herself.

"What?"

"I didn't think you'd get it."

Lara hated when her aunt was vague.

"Get what?"

"The ability."

" 'Ability' ?"

Her aunt nodded.

Lara was about to ask "And what might this 'ability' be?", but she didn't have the chance, for at that moment she fell off her chair in a deep swoon.

"Funny old world, isn't it?"

A/N: okay, review time! C'mon...the next chapter depends on it...