Theo had no trouble in admitting that James had been right. It had been unrealistic for her to expect herself not to feel anything in her current situation. The circumstances in which she'd found herself were otherworldly - in the fullest possible sense of the word. There was no tried-and-tested method that she might draw upon to ease her own experience here, because it simply had not happened before, or at least if it had, there was nobody racing to share their experience. Not openly, at least…she did have a theory, one that she'd been bandying about in her brain in her spare time like a cat with a ball of yarn. But she couldn't be certain yet.

Hopefully that didn't mean that those who it had happened to in the past - her predecessors for surely they must exist - hadn't managed to return at all. It was more likely, she comforted herself with, that they just hadn't rushed to share their stories. She knew she certainly wouldn't, should she manage to get home. When she managed to get home. There was no desire within her to be lumped in with people who spent all of their waking hours trying to track down Bigfoot, or insisting on late night documentaries that they were probed by aliens every other Tuesday night.

All right, history was hardly bursting with people claiming to be from the future either - not to her knowledge - but that didn't mean anything. Those who did make such claims would end up in asylums, or burned as witches, depending on when and where they'd ended up. Nobody was in any rush to pen the ramblings of madmen. Those who did not race to inform the citizens of history of their true origins weren't apt to end up in any historical records, either, because they'd done what was necessary to survive. They'd blended in.

Whatever greater phenomenon was at play, and whether it had happened before, one thing remained certain. She felt better, having cried it out. That was a tried-and-tested solution to many problems, she just happened to be without the luxury of a sad movie to force it out of her at the moment. Instead, she'd made do with silently letting the tears fall while listening to James read. The good captain, for his part, kept his eyes firmly on the page to afford her some modicum of privacy, while his voice never faltered. The voice itself helped - it was a voice made for poetry readings. Low and deep, with a distinctive quality to it. Hell, she'd listen to him read the phone book quite happily…although that might not have distracted her from her tears and her woes quite so successfully.

Now she just needed a bit more of a long-term distraction. Or at least one that was a bit more accessible. She could hardly just drop a book in James' lap every time she had a bad day and expect him to be her own personal audiobook. If only because Amelia would no doubt use it to fuel rumours that she was unable to read.

In the end, it was the heat that inspired her. Used to inhospitable Irish winters, and summers that were little more than lukewarm, the heat in Port Royal was a killer. At first, she'd attributed the worst of it to her sunburn. Until it began to heal, it was bound to leave her already feeling hot and predisposed to feeling the scorch of the sun worse than others might. But then the burns abated, and her frustration with the heat did not. It didn't help that if it were any more humid, she'd have been underwater.

It was that thought that had her going to Hattie one particularly hot morning.

"Is there anywhere that we might swim?"

She'd asked it quietly, expecting a scandalised look at the mere suggestion that they might shed one of their million layers of clothing in public. Instead, though, the blonde had blinked in surprise, then hesitated, before finally fixing her with a look that could only be described as speculative.

"I…" she paused, sighed, and then looked around as though expecting to find her employer hiding behind a curtain and listening in so that he might judge whether her answer was proper "My day off is tomorrow, Miss Theodora."

An answer to a question she hadn't asked. Theo blinked at her owlishly, waiting for it to make sense.

"Meet me just down the path from the house after Captain Norrington leaves - wear something suitable beneath your dress. Just say you're going for a walk, I'll say I plan to spend my day in town, and then we'll…" she trailed off, her eyes alight with mischief "Well, then I'll show you."

Theo smiled. She couldn't help it - finally a mystery that wasn't bound to end in death, injury, or general misfortune. Or so she hoped, anyway.

And so, as she was told, the next morning she slipped out of the front door once James was well and truly gone, feeling very much like a teenager who was slipping off to skip school for the day. It was the sort of thrill she'd needed - something small and inconsequential. Jesus, something fun.

Hattie all out refused to answer any of her questions as she showed her the way to wherever they were going. She led her in the opposite direction from town, but rather than turning up the hill towards the Governor's mansion, she turned off onto a side trail that was little more than a cleared muddy pathway barely as wide as their skirts that sloped steadily downwards as they walked. The young blonde moved effortlessly, entirely unhindered by her skirts even as she clutched a basket in one hand and a folded bundle of linen wedged beneath her other arm. Theo would have offered to carry something, but she'd been forced to gather her skirts into her arms, holding them up at an entirely indecent level to stop them from tripping her up every other step on the uneven terrain.

The humidity and the several dangerously close brushes with a sprained ankle were more than worth it, though, for after some time they emerged from the dense greenery and came out on what had to be the smallest beach she'd ever seen. The sand spanned no more than the width of James' sitting room, leading down into a modest enclosed pool of dazzling blue water.

"Oh, wow," Theo looked around in amazement "This is amazing!"

"Only us servants know about it," Hattie explained with a sheepish smile "I don't mind telling you because you're, well…different from the others, but you mustn't tell anybody. Not even Miss Swann. It's not an insult - we don't mean anything by it, but…"

"Nobody can freely relax if your boss and their friends are on the beach five feet away," Theo finished knowingly "I'll keep your secret, don't worry."

"Thank you," she smiled, nodding with clear relief "The others won't even be happy that I showed you, but our days off rarely fall on the same day."

"If they ask I'll just tell them I'm a maid, too," she shrugged.

"I hate to break it to you, Miss, but they all know who you are. Even if they haven't seen you, they'll hear the accent and put it together without much effort. Word spreads fast around here."

Well. That wasn't comforting news.

"What if I speak like this, then?" She asked, putting on the most exaggerated and terrible cockney accent she could manage.

Hattie snickered, shaking her head "You are a strange one, Miss, you know that?"

"Not many around here will let me forget it," Theo smiled "And nobody ever comes around here? I'd hate to start any more rumours."

"We spent most of our time here just enjoying the quiet on the beach before we actually started swimming - just to make sure it didn't belong to the Governor for his personal use or the likes," Hattie shook her head, already beginning to pull at the front laces of her dress "We've never seen anybody here who we didn't inform of it ourselves. It makes sense, though - none of the great ladies are going to ruin their silks on the walk here for somewhere quiet to relax when there are plenty of other, more comfortable places for that as far as they're concerned."

"It must be nice to benefit for once from them being spoiled for choice," Theo nodded "Thank you for telling me, I consider it a great honour."

Nose wrinkling as she smiled, Hattie shook her head and regarded her like she was some strange but amusing creature beamed in from another planet. She wasn't far off the mark. Theo insisted on stripping down without help - it was Hattie's day off, they were here as friends, not as servant and employer. Or, well, servant and dependent-of-employer. It took some manoeuvring, performing a series of contortionist-style skills to reach behind her and wrestle with the ties at the back of her bodice, but before long she was stripped down to her clothes from home - the denim shorts and tank-top. Maybe the denim was a bad idea, but she wasn't particularly excited about the idea of swimming around in the glorified nightgown that acted as underwear in this time.

She did still have her underwear and sports bra from home to boast of among her belongings - it had taken a lot of convincing and rambling about entirely non-existent Irish traditions to stop Hattie from throwing them out…or burning them. Even now, she kept them stashed alongside her wallet from home, just in case temptation struck after all. But she wasn't willing to risk putting them through even minimal wear and tear for the sake of a swim. No, she was certain that in the trials to come, they would be her prized possessions, along with her Docs. She refused to face undead pirates and battles at sea while wearing a corset and whatever passed for footwear these days.

Whatever edge she could get would be sorely needed, although she'd have never guessed that such an edge might ever be found in the form of a pair of black boyshorts and a bright purple sports bra. She could only thank god that she hadn't been wearing something a little less substantial that day. A few scraps of lace might've helped her entice Jack into helping her (at the very beginning, anyway) but it would've done her precious little good here…and Hattie might've fainted upon finding them, already deeming what she did have entirely scandalous enough.

Once she'd finally shed the layers upon layers of cobalt blue fabric, Theo resisted the urge to sprint for the water and instead folded them carefully and laid them on a patch of dry sand, far out of the way of the water. Even that was nice in itself - being able to move around in the heat unencumbered. While the clothing wasn't quite as life-threateningly restricting as she'd been led to believe by books and movies, it was still stifling. Jesus, breathing was stifling in this humidity. She had no idea how Elizabeth managed to float around so gracefully with nary a drop of sweat to be found on her brow most days, even though her dresses were far more elaborate than her own. Theo was probably the only woman in Port Royal who did not envy her wardrobe. Gorgeous as it undeniably was, an hour in one such dress would only result in heat-induced war flashbacks to her time adrift at sea.

The moment she dove into the water, her troubles were washed away by the gentle lapping of the waves about her. This was familiar - this made sense. Just herself, the water, and the urge to push her muscles until they threatened to give out. It was easy to forget that even Hattie was there as she kicked her way down towards the seabed and then shot back up off of it, emerging from the surface feeling entirely reborn. She wasn't the religious sort, but there was no denying that she could feel the sentiment behind the symbolism - she did feel renewed once she breached the glassy surface and inhaled deeply.

And that was what they did for hours - barely interacting other than a few shared smiles or laughs here and there, they were mostly in their own little worlds as they swam and unwound. She finally dragged herself out of the water what must've been an entire hour or two after Hattie had. The blonde was sprawled out on the sand, turning over occasionally so that the sun would dry her shift.

Falling into the sand beside her, Theo's limbs were all but vibrating from the exertion, her breath coming in short puffs as she leaned back on her elbows and basked in the afternoon sun. She felt god damn rapturous.

"You're a strong swimmer," Hattie commented, squinting at her through the blinding sun "I shouldn't think there'd be much opportunity to swim in Ireland."

"Oh, we have lakes and such," Theo breathed.

As well as indoor swimming pools, handily.

"…My family near the coast used to bribe me to stay with them over summer by promising to take me swimming every day," she continued with a smile "My cousins used to call me Ariel. I think the hair helped."

Realising her mistake a bit too late, she suppressed a grimace as Hattie blinked at her in confusion.

"A children's tale in my parts - about a mermaid with red hair who falls in love with a human prince when she saves him from a shipwreck," she clarified.

She wrung out her hair as she spoke, taking care not to soak Hattie in the process.

"How does it end?"

"Depends on the version," she shrugged "In one they live happily ever after."

"And in the other?"

"She dies."

"Ah. Not much middle ground in your stories, then?"

"We're not a very middle ground sort of people," she admitted with a smile.

"That explains why you and Captain Norrington get along so well," Hattie replied "He's much the same."

"Hmm, I can imagine," Theo nodded, stretching her legs out before her like a cat in a patch of sunlight "I suppose that means I have all the more reason to hope I never give him cause to be annoyed by my presence - it'd be a hell of a thing to try and remedy."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," she replied - and Theo was pleased to hear she'd now dropped the formalities, even if only for today "Once you have his loyalty, it's yours for life...Unless you do something truly horrendous, but you don't seem the murderous type."

"Well, there goes my plans for Tuesday," Theo joked, if only to hide her discomfort.

Would he consider running off on an adventure with Jack 'truly horrendous'? Probably.

"Truth be told, he seems much cheered by your presence - to my eye, at least," Hattie refused to be put off by her teasing "I suspect Miss Swann isn't the only one who views you as a welcome breath of fresh air around here. She's just quicker to show it."

Theo didn't quite know what to say back to that, but before she could force out any kind of response, Hattie was wincing and sitting up a little to look at her properly.

"…I'd be grateful if you didn't repeat that to anybody - I shouldn't even be saying such things to you."

"My lips are sealed," Theo promised solemnly, mimicking locking them and hurling the key towards the water.

Hattie laughed, shaking her head "A strange one, indeed."

When the end of the day rolled round, James found himself feeling surprisingly…light. It wasn't like it was something he would ordinarily dread - going home. It was neither a burden nor a blessing, it just was. Something to be endured, perhaps, at worst. A necessary stepping-stone to getting to the next day and the work to be found there. A chance to eat and rest, so that he might see out his duties to the absolute best of his ability the next day. He enjoyed his work enough to make sure he did it well, after all. And that hadn't changed - the enjoyment of his work, that was. A sudden fresh desire to escape it was far from the reason he now easily welcomed the turn of the clock and the setting of the sun.

It couldn't all be attributed to Theodora herself. No, he was swift in assuring himself of that. Oh, she was perfectly amicable - funny, even. Intelligent, yes. More intelligent than she wanted him to know, certainly. An entertaining conversationalist, even Governor Swann had been quick to point that out. But he was still certain that to lay the blame of the loss of his indifference entirely at her feet would be a mistake. An overly emotional mistake, at that. He'd been lucky, there was no denying that, that the woman he'd found himself providing lodgings for was of the decent sort. The good sort.

However…it was only human nature to seek company. No matter what jokes circled lazily around the port of his tireless and superhuman dedication to his duties, he was a mere mortal. It shouldn't have surprised him at all that finding amiable company after a long day would be a comfort. It was just more of a comfort than he'd expected. Especially considering how reluctant he'd been to give up the peace that solitude offered. Still, the whole thing just emphasised all the more that he was finally ready to find a suitable wife - finally ready to act upon the proposal that he'd been considering for nigh on a whole year by now. It wasn't because of Theodora herself, however much she seemed to seize the attention of those around her, even if it was unwittingly. The companionship was only emphasising that his instincts were right in that it was time to seek out something more. He could only hope that the woman he intended to do that with was as excited by the idea as he was.

While James could do all of the mental reasoning he liked, though, there was no denying that there was a considerable spring in his step by the time he tidied his desk, gathered up his papers, and began the walk home. There was no temptation within him to start with any 'I told you so's, but Theodora's mood had improved considerably after that night. They never spoke of it afterwards, and nothing could ever push him into bringing it up, but there was a marked difference in her.

What still lingered, however - what still disturbed him - was the nature of her tears. James was no emotional expert, but he'd heard tears of grief and sorrow. From women who had lost brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands in the war they waged against piracy. Even just from the families of local fishermen who had been struck by misfortune during their work. Losing loved ones at sea was a sad inevitability in a place such as this, and tears of grief were the norm. Theodora's sobs were not of that ilk. He wasn't sure how to describe it, he just knew. In the same way that human nature can discern when somebody is being deceptive or behaving suspiciously without quite being able to explain how. It was just instinctive. They were tears over what was to come rather than what had passed.

He could see it in the way she pulled herself out of it. It wasn't a sort of resigned acceptance over what had happened, it was different. She would forcibly straighten her shoulders and steel herself, the same way he'd seen countless soldiers do when the enemy was finally in their sights. An enemy not likely to surrender. It wasn't something he wanted to question her on. Nor something he could, not really. Not yet. The woman was like a stray cat - it took a long time to earn her trust, and likely one wrong, blundering move to lose it entirely. Had they come far enough for him to press the matter? Perhaps. But he preferred to err on the side of caution here, and caution dictated that either she should bring up the matter herself, or he should leave it just a little bit longer before he did. There was little way for him to enquire as to a husband again without calling her a liar, even if only in a roundabout way.

No, he would let the matter lie. For now. And going on as they had been was far from a hardship, which came as a surprising comfort to him in the meantime.

When he finally reached the pathway leading up to his front door, James slowed to a surprised stop. Theodora was there, outside, long fiery hair damp and entirely down, fanning about her in wild waves as even the lightest breeze caught strands of it and tugged it gently this way and that. Ahead of her, he caught the briefest glimpse of Hattie as she slipped through the front door. They must've all come home at the same time. Blinking away his surprise, he opened his mouth to call after the redhead but the crunch of his boots on the gravel must've alerted her to his presence already, for she spun around, eyes wide, and then fixed him with a smile.

James stopped short - both literally, and mentally, his mind falling almost alarmingly blank. It was absurd. It wasn't like he had never seen him before. It wasn't like he wasn't aware that she was fair. But that was just it; maybe it was the warm glow that the vivid sunset had cast the entire island in, and the way it complimented her colouring - which now glowed all the more warmly for the sun she'd caught over the course of the day. Or maybe it was the way her sterling grey eyes were alight with sheer glee as she grinned at him, but she just seemed so much more now. More alive, more vivid, more beautiful. Hair wild and clothes hopelessly askew, she looked like something from ancient myth and legend. A wild thing that refused to be ensnared, nor muted.

"Good evenin', Captain Norrington," she greeted brightly.

They were firmly on a first-name basis now, at least when they were here, so her use of his title had a distinctly teasing quality to it. Which did nothing to help the blush he felt rising across his face. One that he dearly hoped the lighting masked.

"Theodora," he finally forced out when he regained control of his sentence "I- What in God's name happened to you?"

"Amelia Simmonds finally snapped and tried to drown me at the docks - it's okay, though, I fought her off."

"You're not serious."

"Not often, no," a teasing smile played on her lips and James had to force himself to look away to get a damned grip on his mind "Come on, I'll inform you of my adventures over dinner."

It was pathetic. It was absurd. It was impersonal - a convenient outlet for a need that had been burgeoning within him since long before he'd met her…It was also, it seemed, entirely out of his control. He could only hope that it would pass.

A/N: Alternative chapter title - calm down Norrington, it's just a boner. First movie Norrington always reminds me of a gem of a Rob Brydon quote, "hmm let's see, is it posh and repressed, or repressed and posh?", because I am firmly convinced he's juuuust emotionally clueless and stubborn enough to mistake any attraction to Theo for confirmation that he should absolutely propose to Elizabeth…For now.

Thank you guys so much for the lovely reviews so far!