Okay guys, I know these last couple of chapters have been kinda boring, but I promise it'll get better. I'm planning on going back and revamping all of them later on, fix some errors I noticed. Hopefully y'all don't stop reading! Thanks for all the reviews and please keep 'em comin'!

Special thanks to: Dawnie-7 for your faithful reviews!

And a very very special thanks to PirateGyrl for helping me with brainstorming!

"It's not about the ending, it's about the journey." -Lex Luthor, Smallville

Chapter 15

New Developments

Xander raced out of the foliage searching for the source of the screams he had heard deep in the scattered palms. He still had no idea where he was or how he had gotten so lost, but any sign of life was better than the penetrating stillness and silence that rang in his ears. He broke through the trees and searched up and down the beach, before he caught a glimpse of light glimmering in the distance.

He stayed near the tree line and rushed towards them. Thrilled that he had finally found Jack and Genevieve, he didn't notice several other figures lurking nearby. He stopped when he heard a voice he didn't recognize. Gen's voice was barely audible but Jack's willowy figure was nowhere to be seen. As a figure stepped into the light cast from the torch, Xander instantly recognized Captain Henry Brigand as he towered over Gen while one of his toadies pinned her arms to stop her in mid-lunge.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she shouted as she tried to wriggle free. Brigand backed away from her, his laughter cruel.

Xander reached for his hip where his sword rested, but it wasn't there. Damn it, where the hell had it gone? Just as he was about to break through the trees, brandishing nothing but his own fists and gumption, something struck him hard on the side of the head and as he stumbled and fell he heard hearty laughter from behind him. His assailant let the sword fall to the ground at Xander's side.

"Sir!" Sammy called getting Brigand's attention. "I found a man hiding out here." He moved to Brigand's side, gesturing to the palm trees where Xander's hand was visible. "What do you want to do wi' him?"

"Just leave him," Brigand growled, a sadistic smile on his face, "we got what we came for."

"Aye," Sammy said, leering at Gen who met his eyes with a burning vehemence.

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Jack was lying on the beach as the sun set with nothing but a bottle of rum and a cool breeze to break the monotony of the rhythmic lapping waves on the sugar-white shore. A shadow played across the sand, stretching into forever. He looked up slowly and smiled as Genevieve sauntered closer. Her long hair fluttered in the wind, complimented by a billowing white dress that exposed the tops of her pale white shoulders.

She smiled at him shyly, her emerald green eyes glittering and her chestnut hair cascading down her bare back in the revealing dress.

"You look beautiful," he said.

She didn't speak but just stared at him balefully as she stood above him, smiling.

"You're a difficult man, Jack,"she said.

"And why is that, love?"he asked. "Because I adore antagonizing you?"

Her smile deepened slightly and she moved to sit down in the sand next to him. "Because you're too fearless. It's going to get you killed some day."

He grinned, "I can take care of myself love."

"Are you so sure about that?"

"Of course,"he said, "I've got my neck out of plenty of sticky spots. Who's to say I can't do it again?"

"I don't want you to try for my sake,"she said, as she looked out at the waves.

Jack took the opportunity to pull her down, sprawling her on his chest, making her giggle happily.

"Why would I have to save my own neck again?" he grinned and met her lips with his own. She pulled back, her face worried.

"For what's about to happen. I don't want you trying to be heroic," her voice wavered.

"I'm a pirate, my dear girl, not a hero."

She smiled again, trying to push off and regain her footing but he wrapped an arm around her waist, continuing the kiss she had ended so abruptly.

Xander shook Jack roughly, until he was upended onto his stomach, his mouth open. He was awoken with a mouthful of thick sand. Spitting out the grit, he opened his eyes, and looked up, his eyes still blurry from the dream. It wasn't Genevieve who stood over him, but Xander. He was nursing a nasty cut on the side of his head just above his ear and he looked frantically from Jack to up the beach where fog seemed to linger.

"Xander, what's the matter?"

"It's Genevieve." The moon gleamed off his hair as he put a hand to his head, and drawing it away, was dismayed to see blood.

"What do you mean? Where is she?" Jack narrowed his eyes at Xander, his blood pumping quick and hot as he followed Xander's gaze.

"Gone."

Jack grabbed Xander's shirtfront, shaking him harshly, as if he was trying to shake himself from a nightmare. "What the bloody hell are you talking about, gone?"

"I saw her and Brigand."

"Brigand's here?" Jack said, the angles of his face contrasted by the dying fire. He had only been asleep for a little while.

"Aye, he took her," he gestured to the black water, lapping in whooshing waves on the shore and farther out in the inlet, the Pearl sat, alone.

"Did you see where?"

"No," Xander said, gesturing to his head, "one of the men came up behind me and, gave me a headache."

"Damn it," Jack said under his breath.

"What do we do? We have to go get her. Brigand'll kill her."

"You have to think about this, Xan," Jack said. "Brigand sent her here, do you remember? Now why would he come back to kidnap her?"

"It doesn't make sense," Xander said, "why would he do that?"

"That's what we're going to find out. We're going back to the Pearl."

Xander sighed as he watched Jack trudge down the beach, gathering up his coat as he dragged the boat down to the water and climbed inside.

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Brigand grinned down at her. "I hope you find the accommodations suiting, my dear."

"What the hell do you want with me?" she asked, spitting at him.

"You're very important to me, my lovely girl," he said, "you're the only one who can give me something I've been searching for my entire career."

"Oh, and what is that? A face that's not hideously ugly?"

He smiled at her, like a crocodiles's silence before it strikes, and slapped her across the face. She flinched but kept her footing in the small cell in which she stood.

"I may have spared you from the courts, but, you mock me again and I'll see to it that the sharks will be having you for their next meal."

Genevieve watched him blandly as he paced, his face anxious and angry.

"You're the daughter of Thomas Jenkins," he said, watching her face for a reaction or a lie.

"I am," she whispered, "and you're his murderer."

Brigand nodded calmly. "I'm no murderer lass, I am a captain. I had a man hung for piracy on my own ship."

"You were his judge, jury and executioner," she said, "he had no justice."

Brigand smiled, "isn't it odd how history likes to repeat itself. It's as if it likes to relive certain events. Like this for example," he grinned, spreading his arms wide, almost the length of the cell. "It had to have been twenty years ago when your father stood in the very place you're standing, looking at me in very much the same way you are."

"I will kill you," she said, "before I help you do anything."

A grim smile etched across his face as she backed away from him involuntarily. "You'll do exactly what I tell you to do, girl, or you'll be meeting with my brand of justice." He paused, "the sun'll be up in a few hours, I suggest you rest up for the work you have ahead of you. And if there's anything you need, all you have to do is call. Your old crew is so happy to have you aboard." He backed out of the cell and slammed the door in her face, jogging up the stairs that led to the main deck leaving Genevieve to stare stonily after him.

When there was nothing but silence echoing through the small room, she stretched out on the cold floor, staring up through the miniscule porthole that provided the only light through which the moonlight filtered through.

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Anamaria rubbed a hand over her forehead. The sun was to be rising soon and she didn't know when Jack would be back. She smirked as she thought of Jack and treasure. Once he got an idea in his head, it was impossible to dislodge it from the brick it was made of.

She shoved her hair out of her face and repositioned her hat. The sea was gentle with only the slightest rocking of the ship. She moved to the wheel, sliding her dark hands over the rungs. It was with the first glimpse of sunrise that she saw the silhouette of the rowboat making its slow progression towards the ship.

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Sunlight fell golden through the archway of the door in the throne room. There, Helen and Paris of Troy stood, embracing lovingly. Both were dressed richly, with Paris dressed to fit his station as one of the princes of Troy, and Helen wore the garments of a princess, having been accepted with loving arms by Paris' father, Priam.

"I don't want you to die for me," she whispered through gritted teeth. "This is not worth your city, your people."

"I love you," he said, his face close to hers as he held her eyes. "I've loved you since the moment I saw you. That may be selfish, but it's enough."

He held her close as she looked on, her golden hair cascading down as his hand trailed down her back. She smiled a small, sad smile that did not radiate up to her eyes. Hera had created her in the image of Helen, but she couldn't emulate real human emotions. She was the essence of a cloud, an idea conceived by Hera when Aphrodite bribed Paris to win the beauty contest which decided who was the most beautiful of the goddesses.

When Paris released her, she saw that he noticed someone approaching. It was a courier, his face grim as he carried a scroll. With a bow, he offered it up to Paris who narrowed his eyes at the young man.

"What is this?"

"I know not, my lord, but I was sent by your father, King Priam to bring this to you. It was meant for Prince Hector." He bowed to Paris, who accepted it.

"Thank you." Paris followed the boy with his eyes as he left, and then reached to open the scroll carefully. He met Helen's eyes with his own, and his eyes sad.

She watched as he scanned the words written to his dead brother and her face filled with an emotion that she could never feel; sadness.

"What does it say, my love?" she asked, moving to his side, placing a proprietary hand on his broad shoulder.

"It's a letter from Agamemnon. He says that there is something he wanted to speak with Hector about. It's in regards to a "reward.""

"Maybe you should speak to the king?" Helen asked. "See what he thinks of the matter. It could be some sort of trickery devised by the Greeks."

"I will later. My father has grieved long for Hector and that period is not yet over. He deserves privacy."

"Whatever you want my love," Helen says with a smile.

"Here," he said, handing her the scroll, "would you take this and keep it for me?"

"Of course," she said , taking his hand, and running her arm up and ran her fingers through his dark hair, kissing him softly on the cheek and with a turn, left him.

As soon as she exited the room, she disintegrated into a cloud of vapor, drifting upwards until she arrived on Mount Olympus, the home of the gods.

The guardians at the gates did not stop her as she walked stiffly up to the thrones of Zeus and Hera. When Hera saw her, her eyes narrowed and she directed the phantom away, so that they could speak in private. Zeus watched his wife take her leave, but did not say anything.

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Jack rushed to his cabin, throwing the doors open wide.

"What are you looking for?" Xander asked, walking into the quarters after him.

"Something I've had for years, a gift from your pa as a matter of fact."

"My father? What did he give you that you've kept all these years?"

"Something we're going to need to get out of this with our necks intact."

"We have to find her," Xander said, "before Brigand does something."

Jack turned away from the desk that he was rummaging through and looked at him. "Boy, Brigand may be a sneak, but if he'd wanted to kill her, he would've done it long ago."

Xander nodded, "but then what does he need her for?"

Jack put his hands in his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. "There's something you need to know about Genevieve."

"What is it Jack? Why don't you just tell me everything you know about her and stop doling it out for theatrical effect!"

"It is captain to you, boy, and I'll tell you exactly what I think you need to know, for your own sake, as well as mine."

"Fine," Xander said, pulling out a chair and plopping into it. "Tell me what you know."

"You know the legend behind this island," he started, waiting for acknowledgement. "But there is an integral detail that isn't widely known. When Poseidon created the island from the depths of the sea, he divided the map that would lead the treasure-seekers to it. The two enemies must come together to find the treasure."

"The two enemies? You mean a Greek and a Trojan?" he asked.

Jack nodded, "You are the Greek, and she, descended from the princes of Troy."

"This is ridiculous, how do you even know?"

"Your father, lad, he's the one that gave me the directions. Instructions on how to find this." "But without Genevieve, we'll never find the treasure. We need her."

"We'll need her for the tests," Jack said with a sly smile, "but we can get there without her help." He pulled out the piece of parchment she carried with her religiously. "I may be a pirate, but I'm not a saint."

"This is insanity."

"Boy, you have no idea." Jack slapped him on the back and, hauled him up by his arm, remembering the vivid dream he had had, with a demure Genevieve. "Now we have a treasure to find."

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Genevieve tossed and turned as she dreamed, terrible dreams of death and destruction. She dreamed of soldiers slain in an ancient battleground, bloodstained and staring as they fell to the ground while horses drawing chariots reared violently and turning, retreated. She sighted a dark haired prince at the wall of the distant city, holding the arm of a fair haired woman as they surveyed the death displayed so disgustingly in the slaughter. She almost recognized the man, his dark eyes reminded her of something, but she couldn't remember.

She sat up straight when the heavy clomp of boots sounded on the stairs. A moment later, two men appeared, twisted grins on their faces as they unlocked the door to her cell. One stepped inside and pulled her off the plank floor, yanking her arms behind her back and tying them quickly as she struggled. When that was done, they led her up the stairs, where Brigand stood waiting.

"We're going back to your island, my dear," he said. "You're going to make me a very rich man." He rubbed her soft hair between two of his fingers as she snarled at him viciously.

"Take her to the boat," he told one of the men. He watched them with a satisfied grin.