Okay. I know you want to kill me because it's taken way too long to update this thing, but I worked hard on it for awhile, and oh my goodness, finally I have gotten this done.

So I'm sitting around drinking Vanilla Coke and Crown Royal ((Which really makes your insides warm... I didn't know that!)) and writing. Hope you like.

Kery J. Wales - Thank you! I'm glad you like the story, and I totally understand what you mean about the reviewing thing... my computer does the same thing. :D

leggyfreak003: I'm sorry it took so long... TT I am so sorry!

VagrantCandy: I did it again. And I am sorry. Again.

Morph: I know about James... but he's Edward cause I say he is. -- After all, I did come up with that before they released the extra scenes... And you are smart. :D

TriGemini: Ah! Long review! happy rum dances You make me so happy! Yay! Thank you!

Okay, if I can't even manage to maintain my own stories, how the heck are you supposed to believe that I own the original movie? HA!

((In other words, I don't own PotC. So don't sue me. Please.))

Biting my tongue, I stumbled down the dock, right arm cradled gingerly against my stomach. I had been granted my sword back, and no one had even bothered to remove my numerous stolen baubles, which surprised me, so all in all, I was in much the same shape I had been when I headed along this dock earlier, only in more pain and in less of a good mood.

I didn't even bother to try sneaking onto the ship this time. Instead, I tramped right up the main gangplank, ignoring everyone staring at me as I aimed directly for Jack's cabin. My cabin.

Just as my left hand was reaching down to grasp the door handle, the door swung open, and I found myself staring wide-eyed at Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Get in here," he said firmly, grasping my upper left arm, and yanking me into the cabin.

As the door slammed shut behind me and Jack set to locking it, I pushed forward and snatched one of the three rum bottles off the table, twisting the cork out with my teeth. Just as I was about to take a swig, Jack snatched the bottle from my fingers, and I glared at him. "Give that back!"

"Not until you tell me the truth." He crossed his arms. "Why is it you refuse to leave the ship when offered, but then you sneak off?"

"I came back," I pointed out lightly, waving my left hand in a weary, circular motion at him. That drew his attention, and his dark rimmed eyes narrowed as he examined the three rings I had on that hand - the only conspicuously empty one my ring finger. "Oh, do you like them? I was practicing."

"What did you do out there?" he frowned.

I sighed. "Went drinking, actually. Got in a bar fight, got thrown in prison, got recognized, got branded, got released, walked home, got snatched up by you, got my rum stolen, got annoyed. Can I have my rum back now?"

I didn't get my rum back.

"You got branded!" Jack bolted forward, slamming the rum bottle down on the table so hard that some of the liquid splashed up and out. A second later, he had grabbed my right hand and pulled it away from my body, and though I tried to keep my arm from turning, he soon had my hand wrist down as he stared at my arm, sucking in a sharp breath.

The skin was puckered and pink, a mottled red in the sharp, knife-cut like shape of a capital 'P', something that would make a scar like no other.

Jack just stared at my arm for a long time, looking horrified. Swallowing, trying to ignore the re-flared pain in my arm, I started to speak. "Jack..."

Before I could say any more, his arms snaked around me, and crushed me tightly against his chest. "I never should have let you follow me," he started, but when I opened my mouth to protest, he pressed on. "But I never should have doubted ye. Ye shouldn't have had to get yerself branded to make me recognize ye as a pirate."

Letting out a relieved sigh, I melted against his chest, relaxing, until I tried again.

"Rum?"

Jack's roar of laughter made me smile.

God, I'd missed the man.

"Thank you, Edward," Christine accepted the tureen of gravy, and carefully poured it over her beef, frowning in concentration.

They had paused in a relatively stable Indian British colony, both to take on supplies and to ask information. Norrington had then, with the fresh supplies, had the ship cooks make himself and her a veritable feast, so now Christine was being spoiled with food like she never had been before. She had never been more appreciative for the corset.

"How is the beef this evening?" he asked, biting his lower lip adorably.

Christine smiled, hiding a giggled. Norrington was so cute! "It's wonderful, Edward. This entire feast is delicious. What is the occasion?"

He smiled. "Do I need an occasion to dine in the company of a beautiful lady?"

Christine flushed. "Edward, you flatter me."

Polite conversation continued for the rest of the meal, from the sweet potatoes through to the pound cake and wine. When the meal was finally over, Norrington suggested they withdraw 'to his drawing room', he had said with a smile, indicating the two sitting chairs by the window, extinguishing all other lights until the room was illuminated only by a good dozen softly shining candles. They did so, and Christine relaxed a little, looking out over the dark water. "It's a beautiful night."

"And I hold beautiful company," Norrington smiled, reaching across to take her hand.

I'm going to warn you right now. I think I actually gagged when Christine told me this part of the story. I mean, sappy. So if you don't really like the romance part of this story ((And if you don't, I have no idea why you're even reading this story)) than I advise you stop reading. At least for the rest of this chapter.

Because this is so sugary, I can feel my teeth rotting just penning the words.

"And mine a true gentleman," she turned, to look back at him. "You are a fine man, Edward."

"I have heard that said before," he said, a little sadly. "A fine man with a fine career, lacking nothing."

"Save one thing, I believe," she said gently, running her thumb gently over the back of his hand.

"Save one thing," he agreed. "A marriage to and the love of a fine woman."

There was silence for a long moment, as the two of them simply looked at each other, then Norrington smiled, looking down for a moment. "We have gotten to know each other fairly well, have we not, Christine, over these last several months?"

"I would say that five months of sailing in tight quarters would lead two people to get to know each other well, yes." Christine smiled. "I greatly enjoy your company, Edward."

Norrington's eyes lit up, and his thumb began kneading the knuckles of Christine's hand in earnest. "And I enjoy yours, Christine. I enjoy your company very much. I... I feel awkward saying this, but as you don't have any family left, save your elusive sister... I suppose there is no one to ask for a blessing."

"Yes?" Christine asked, smile growing.

"I... oh bother," Norrington muttered, then dropped out of his chair, dipping to one knee. "Would you do me the fine honour of being that fine woman that I might love? Will you marry me?"

"Finally!" Christine yelled, bending forward to throw her arms dramatically around Norrington's neck, hugging him close. "I thought you would never ask!"

"May I take that, then," Norrington chuckled, struggling a little to stand, taking Christine up with him, "That this is a yes?"

"Yes, yes, a million ways, yes!" Christine cried, delighted, kissing the man fiercely.

Norrington kissed back with equal fervor, then swung her around in a dramatic circle, making her skirts swirl around her. Laughing, he kissed his way across her jaw, then beaming, kissed her properly once more.

"She said yes!"

"Three rum, gentlemen?"

"Damn redcoat," one of the inebriated pirates muttered, but snatched at the tankards the man carried on his tray.

Sighing, Parsons set the rest of the tankards on the table, then walked back to the dingy bar, leaning against it in fatigue. "How do you stand this all day and night?" He had ended up staying long after the rest of his crew was gone, all because some idiot had decided that revenge on a redcoat sounded like fun. So instead, he was stuck. Apparently not many British naval officers came to Tortuga, so he was here until a ship would eventually arrive. Whenever that might be.

"Ah make good money at it," Genevieve said, smirking. "Us unmarried pirates daughters need to do sumptin to survive, don't we?"

"Yes, I suppose that is true," Parsons agreed reluctantly, then yelped and jumped when one of the very drunk pirates slapped his ass. "I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself, good sir!"

"Yer a cute one, ain't ye?" the man sneered, laughing. "And a new one, too... you looking for someone to take care of ye... pretty boy?"

Parsons froze, completely horrified, but Genevieve simply snapped the man's hand with her dirty glass rag. "Back off, Dirk. He's spoken for."

"And who's that?" Dirk slurred, pointing at Parsons. "For that sweet thing I'd take on any man in the... in the... in the place. I would."

Parsons, meanwhile, was slowly edging away from the man.

Genevieve smirked, and crossed her arms over her aproned chest. "Ain't no man, ye lazy slob. Ye wanna take me on, ye idjet?"

"What?" Parsons yelped, even as Dirk leaned forward, bloodshot eyes narrowed.

"You? HA! You haven't got the gall, Gen, to sleep with no redcoat!"

"Haven't I?" Genevieve smirked, then leaned over the counter, grabbed Parson's apron strings, yanked him halfway over the bar, and kissed him soundly. Pulling back with a mischievous grin, she snapped her towel at Dirk again. "So back off, ya lout."

"Right..." the man chuckled, holding up his hands in defeat. "Ye win."

"Good," Genevieve smirked, then turned back to look at Parsons, who was still staring at her with a stunned, deer-in-the-headlights look.

"C'mon then, Francis luv," Genevieve smirked, and pulled herself around the bar, still clinging to his apron. "Coming upstairs?"

"Ah..." Francis just stared at her, then slowly, shook himself back to the real world. "Ah... yes?"

"Good," Genevieve leaned forward to whisper huskily in his ear. "I say we see if we can't make us a good ol' fashion 21-gun salute."

"Wait..." Parsons blinked. "How... what...?"

Genevieve bit down lightly on Francis' earlobe, and hissed, "This is an order from yer captain, sailor. Yer comin' wit' me upstairs, an' then ye are gonna raise that battle flag. Savvy?"

"Oh..." Parson's eyes widened, and a slow startled smile spread across his face. "Oh. Savvy."

There we are... sorry it took so long.

I am SORRY! TT

Almost finished this story... finally... o.O