The commodore stood and strolled over to the shell-shocked lass and grabbed her shoulders.

"What were you doing with the prisoners?" He demanded

"I just wanted to know the bearings," She replied a little defensively

"You gave us the bearings already."

"I only knew where I left from. I wanted to check- but they weren't exactly cooperative." She looked into his hardened eyes, and her face faded. "You think I'm lying."

"I'm a distrustful man." He returned coldly.

Tori broke away from his grasp. "You think I'm in league with Pirates!" She cried, "My father was a shipbuilder in England for the Royal Navy, one of the finest on the continent. He was on his fishing boat with me when Pirates attacked us and shot him."

"Your father-"

"Sir Ronald Evingtar." She finished, looking daringly at him, her eyes burning.

The commodores' eyes soften. "I knew him." James stood up straighter and turned towards the balcony windows. "He designed the Interceptor. Fastest naval ship in the Caribbean. I didn't know he had…" He turned back to her. "He was a good man." James took a step forward. Uncertain of how to console her, he walked towards the door. "I'm so sorry." He murmured. He hesitated a moment, then turned and left. Tori threw open the French doors to the balcony and took a deep breath of relief, staring at the stars. A day or so, probably midmorning the Moclips would reach Port Roi. She determined. She fell asleep with the salty breeze of the sea filtering through the curtains.

Tori hadn't had a restful night. She kept waking up with strange dreams of the ocean becoming the sky and the air was the land. In all of them, she was running, running from something awful but she didn't know what. She finally roused herself from bed late in the morning and all the hands were busy on deck. She cleaned herself up, and went in search of the Commodore.

"Commodore Norrington?"

The commodore set his quill in the binding of the book he was carrying and closed it."Ah! Tori. You slept well I trust? Have you eaten?"

"Actually commodore, I was rather wondering if I could be of service to you? For your rescuing me and all."

James chuckled. "That's not necessary. You are our guest."

"But I'd feel so much better with something to do, sir. I can cook if that suits you." She looked up at him hopefully. Apparently she had triggered something as she could see him weakening.

"Well, you could ask if the cook needs any help in the galley if you'd like." The commodore relented.

Tori smiled and curtsied before heading off quickly to the galley. After 'relieving' the chef with a heavy draught of non-cooking sherry, she promptly set to work preparing another of her delicious stews. Perhaps for dinner she could cajole the men to catch enough fish for a Seafood Danielle.

That evening, Norrington came to her room requesting permission to lock her in, for her own safety of course. Then he awkwardly complimented her cooking before closing the doors and bowing out.

Tori counted to ten slowly, under her breath; then counted to ten again before she pushed a chair under the handles of the doors leading to the rest of the ship. She arranged her bed to look as though she was sleeping and slipped out of the balcony doors. Climbing over the railing without falling was difficult. Dangling off of it to climb down the trimmings of the ship was far worse. She agilely maneuvered to the windows below deck, and stood on the ledge above one. Carefully unlatching it with her foot, she slid inside. With a surreptitious glance about, she ran lightly to the cells.

"Jack, why did you call her "diabla?" Will asked suddenly, toying with his plate.

"hmmm?" Jack looked up from his sprawled out position on the floor.

"Tori. You called her 'diabla.' Why?"

"It's a pet name like 'love,' or 'darling,' or 'wench."' Jack lied smoothly, lying back down with an extravagant hand gesture. "She's a spitfire, a little demoness. Diabla."

"Jack, I know when people are lying to me."

"Well young Turner, then you would make an excellent judge for the British court system. However, that remarkable talent of yours has little practical value as a prisoner below decks of the Royal Navy." He sat up rapidly to face his comrade.

"Do us a favour Will, keep yourself out of where you don't belong, and stop trying to discover things you're not meant to know, savvy? That's what got you into trouble in the first place, if you'll recall-"

Jack and Will broke off their conversation abruptly to listen, and leapt to their feet as someone rounded the corner.

"Tori!" Will whispered excitedly.

"Dinner was lovely lass," Jack praised "It was a Seafood Danielle under the bread if I'm not mistaken, and rum flavoured water?" Tori flushed from the flattery and jangled the keys she had lifted from Norrington. She sprung the captives, locked the cell behind them and hung the keys on the key rack. They followed her to the window and Jack disbelievingly looked up at the climb.

"You want us to shimmy out that window, and up the side of the ship?"

Tori opened her mouth to fire back at him, but Will brushed between them, and started the ascent. Tori smirked and followed while Jack groaned and muttered to himself the entire way up. Will gracefully swung himself over the balcony railing and leaned over to give Tori a hand up. She quickly went over to the door, while Will went to check for guards.

"All clear," he whispered.

Tori pushed the chair aside and pulled a hairpin from her hair and stuck it in the lock while Will watched over her shoulder. A loud thump caused them both to jump and Jack picked himself up from the floor.

"Bloody ship." He declared, and kicked the railing. Tori finally coaxed the lock open and pushed on the door.

"It's stuck." She whispered.

Will motioned for her to move and put his shoulder against it.

"Jack," he beckoned. Jack rattled the handles of the door to no avail.

"On three then," he instructed. "One… two… three!" Jack and Will tackled the door and it burst open. The trio found themselves face-to-face with bayonets and red uniforms.