A/N: I've finally found a way around what was previously stopping me from replying to reviews, so as long as my little solution keeps on working, I'm back to being able to reply to reviews/send out previews! Praise the powers that be, I hated not being able to reply. Thank you for your patience!

James' grip on his temper was at great risk of wavering upon his return to Fort Charles, having just watched William Turner and Jack Sparrow sail away on his own ship. His men knew it, too, for they were silent as they followed him, ready to resume with planning the rescue of the Governor's daughter. It was Groves who broke the silence, but only once they were back within the fort.

"Shall I resume searching for Miss Byrne, sir?"

Christ. With everything else that had happened, he'd almost forgotten about the events of the night before. Well, the ones that had taken place within his own home.

"No," he sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose "If she was that desperate for solitude, I should think it best to leave her be. She'll return come nightfall."

Like a cat, or something other wild thing that disdained even the mildest suggestion as to what they should or should not do. He didn't worry, though - about Theodora in general, yes, but not about where she was. His money was on her having slipped away to go swimming and find some peace in the aftermath of everything. If there was no sign of her come sunset, he'd go down to the closed off beach himself. She didn't think he knew of it, he suspected, but he'd been content to keep it that way and let her have it to herself.

"You're looking for Miss Byrne, Lieutenant?" A new voice cut in.

Frowning, James halted and turned to find Murtogg and Mullroy looking between himself and Groves with clear confusion on their faces.

"You've seen her?" James asked.

"At the docks, she brought your summons to us," Murtogg explained his initial comment.

"…My summons?"

Why did he have a feeling his day was about to get even worse?

"Yes, sir. That you wished to see us at the fort right away - that you sent her to fetch us."

"I see," James said slowly, his mind whirring to catch up "And she brought this message to you at the docks, you said?"

Could they have mistaken who had spoken with them?

"She did - said she'd keep watch by The Interceptor until our replacements arrived. I didn't think it was right, not a woman, and certainly not an injured one, but she made it quite clear that you had to speak with us as a matter of urgency," Mullroy cut in.

"The Interceptor?" James echoed softly "Which is where you were…?"

"Standing guard, sir."

A beat of silence, and then realisation - cold and entirely unwelcome. No. Oh Christ, no.

James was right in suspecting his day hadn't yet finished tumbling downhill. Indeed, it seemed it had actually been hurtling towards a cliff before promptly plunging off of it entirely. Theodora's movements over the course of the morning after slipping out from under Groves' nose, though thus far inexplicable, had been easy to track. She'd left quite the trail. The moment he put the word out to his men, two who had been stationed at the prison were before him, nervously explaining how they'd allowed her through and into the cells - to read the bible to Jack Sparrow. The combination would be an absurd one even for the sort who made an extreme show of their supposed piety, but Theodora was not that sort. But the bible that had been retrieved from the floor of the prison confirmed their story, for he recognised it as the one from his own home. If James had his way, those two particular guards would be scrubbing latrines for the rest of the year.

Still, he'd endeavoured to reason it away in his mind - Theodora's actions, that was. The guards themselves assured him that she left soon after without incident, so she could not be connected with Sparrow's escape. No, that lay squarely on the shoulders of Mr Turner. But there could have only been one reason for her diversion so far as Murtogg and Mullroy concerned, and that was gaining access to The Interceptor. Why, though? Why should she find a need to board his ship? Even had she left something behind on it all those months ago, had she any possessions to her name when they'd found her, she could have easily explained it to them and they would've escorted her aboard for her to retrieve what she needed. She could've asked James himself, and he would've done so personally.

It stood to reason, then, that she had other motives. Unscrupulous motives. It was something that he had great trouble truly believing - which was how he managed to convince himself that nothing was truly amiss while he'd raced home. That he would burst through the front door and she would be there, regarding him with a smile, a joke, and an explanation for all of it. An absurd explanation no doubt, knowing her, but one that was just so hopelessly Theodora Byrne. It would have him rolling his eyes, and perhaps spluttering in disbelief. She did have that effect on him. But it would be fine, and all would be well, for it would confirm that his fears were unfounded. That she was not aboard The Interceptor, purposely or no, in the company of Jack bloody Sparrow. Instead, he was greeted with only silence.

"Theodora?" He called as he checked every room "Theodora!"

He had not the presence of mind to wince at how panicked his voice sounded, even to his own ears. Nothing. Not so much as a cough, or footsteps on the wooden flooring that had now been cleared of glass.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he shouldered his way into her bedroom, not even needing to touch the doorknob thanks to the broken frame. Only bloodstains greeted him - those from last night, thankfully. Still, he clung to hope. He checked his own bedroom (which was as absurd as checking the attic, which he had no doubt he would do before he gave up), before ducking into his study. That was what finally gave him pause. She'd been in here - his coat was draped over the back of his chair. He'd given it to her last night, he remembered that vaguely amidst his panic at being informed of Elizabeth's kidnapping.

The memory, in hindsight, left an odd, heavy sort of guilt tugging at his chest, though he knew not why. It simply…did not make for a good sight, on the surface, despite the fact that the way of things had left him with little other choice. Theodora, alone and bloodied on the floor, eyes cast downward. He shook the image from his mind with a literal shake of his head.

Approaching the desk, he lifted up the coat with a sigh, and then caught sight of a note on the desk. For a moment, just the slightest moment, relief washed over him. Here would be his explanation. A 'gone swimming', something simple - reasonable, even. Something that would make it all make sense. Lifting the page, he squinted at it for a moment. Her penmanship was appalling, which surprised him given that he knew her to be literate. But once he made sense of the words, the relief faded as quickly as it had appeared.

James -

Thank you. Please forgive me.

T

William Turner wouldn't stop staring at her. While it was the sort of position countless women would no doubt kill to be in, Theo was running out of patience as far as it was concerned.

"Can I help you?" She sighed eventually once the sun began to set on the horizon.

"Who are you?" He asked bluntly.

"We've met before," she pointed out drily "And I'm still not sure I've forgiven how you grassed me in, by the way."

"Are you a pirate?"

"Are you?"

"I'm here to save Elizabeth," he seemed appalled at the insinuation behind her question.

"Who says I'm not, too? She's my friend."

"I struggle to believe any friend of Commodore Norrington's would happily associate themselves with the likes of Jack Sparrow."

"Yes, well," she replied haltingly "That is a slight conflict of interest, I'll give you that. But James…he'll…"

At first, she almost said he'd understand - that if he knew the true way of things, he'd get why she was doing what she was. But he could never know, so he would never comprehend. Then, in need of a new word, she almost said he'd forgive her. But she wasn't sure of that, either. So there was little choice after that other than letting the silence hang in the air, unfinished. Will offered no response, and when she finally looked towards him she found herself fixed with an entirely unrelenting gaze.

"I'm no more a pirate than you are," she sighed finally "We're in the same boat, you and I - with little choice other than to tether ourselves to dear old Captain Sparrow."

"You appear to have done so far more enthusiastically than I," he muttered.

"Oh, spare me your judgement," she snorted "You know nothing of my circumstances, so I won't have it."

He said nothing, and continued to say nothing for so long that she thought he didn't mean to speak at all. But then, finally, he did.

"What are your circumstances, then?"

Theo was tempted to ignore him entirely, but he was so damned earnest that doing so felt like kicking a puppy…and his question did sound a lot more sincere than accusatory, his tone lowering and softening all in one.

"I need to get home."

"And Jack Sparrow is the only soul in this world who possesses the ability to help somebody return to Ireland?" Will asked.

Theo shot him an unamused look "It's not that simple."

"Miss Byrne, if I've given you cause for offense, then you have my sincere apologies. I mean only to show my concern. This business isn't something for a woman to be wrapped up in."

Will spoke in quiet but intent tones now, as if hoping to make her see some sort of reason.

"Elizabeth is," she pointed out.

"Through no choice of her own."

Theo inclined her head, and then she sighed "You haven't - offended me, I mean. Not really. It's…been a long day. One that immediately followed a very long night."

She had no quarrel with Will - truly, she didn't. Oh, she could've throttled him at the time when he'd brought James into her "camp" back in the forest, but she understood why, and she did see the kindness in the gesture of his making that fish hook for her all the same. It remained in her wallet to this day, waiting for any sort of usefulness. Did people fish from pirate ships? She supposed she'd soon find out. Still, her issue did not lie with Will. Had he never snitched on her, she'd have never become friends with James. That friendship was not one she ever could have foreseen, certainly not on that first night when she'd stood on his doorstep, riddled with sand, sweat, and stress. It was, however, one that she was incredibly thankful for. A saving grace of this whole fucking misadventure.

"What happened to your face?"

"There was a breakout from the prison during the chaos. One of our new Captain's cellmates found his way to Commodore Norrington's house, fancied himself a bit of revenge."

"Not one of Barbossa's crew, then."

"No, not one of them - not like the one you fought. I'd've been doomed if it came to fighting one of them, what with the whole undead thing."

"You may yet, given where you now stand."

"I'll burn that bridge when I get to it," she replied drily.

"You are a witch, then?" Will swiftly bypassed her response.

At her questioning look, he clarified "You know about my fight with Barbossa's crewman. I didn't speak of it with Jack. Even if I had, he'd have no reason to tell you."

He didn't say so with accusation - not with some sort of frenzied build-the-pyre type of fervour that she'd expect with such an accusation in these times.

"No," she shook her head "I'm not a witch. I just…know things."

She did have to resist the very strong urge to phrase that response as I drink, and I know things - but she did dearly miss the time and place when her dumb references would be easily understood. Maybe she'd save that one for Jack and take credit for it. He might keep her around more happily if she managed to amuse him.

"What things?"

"Helpful things, with any luck."

That part was still something she was nervous about, truth be told. Machinations and guile weren't her thing, if she'd learned anything from her time with James. It just left her with an overwhelming sense of guilt, and a very big headache. Give her a mountain and she'd climb it, give her a goal and she'd meet it, but this? What was essentially politicking? That would be the real challenge. It didn't help that the man she now had to rely on most was the one whose notorious unreliability carried much of the movies in which she'd now been thrust into.

"To who, though? Just Jack, or can you help us save Elizabeth?"

There was more than accusations and distrust showing on Will's face now. Hope lit up his dark brown eyes like a beacon, the frown slipping from his brow as he paused in his work to turn and fully face her now.

And that was why Theo didn't want to dislike him - why she couldn't dislike him. With her stubborn crush on James refusing to leave her mind for long, Will was a bit of an unwelcome mirror being held up before her. The difference being that he would get the girl in the end. But she still knew that had the shoe been on the other foot, had they been here to rescue James, she would be regarding Will with just as much suspicion as he now fixed her with, if only because of her fear that he could pose an unnecessary obstacle to seeing somebody she cared for home safe.

But she couldn't really tell him all that - nor could she tell him that everything would work out, for fear of that then preventing things from working out. He needed the fear to drive him to act. There was one piece of solace she could offer, though.

"She's alright, you know - right at this moment. I wouldn't say safe, but…unharmed, so far."

"For now."

"For now," she echoed in agreement "But that's why we're here, isn't it?"

"It's why I'm here. As far as you and Jack are concerned, I'm not so sure."

"I have other goals," she admitted "But any desire I have to see Elizabeth safe and well - and that is what I want - doesn't conflict with those. In fact, I'd say it aids them."

If this fight didn't end how it should - how Theo anticipated it - there was no telling when Jack would get her to Tia Dalma. Shit, there was no telling if or when he would see fit to do so even if everything went as planned. His unpredictability was a lot more endearing when it was limited to the other side of the screen, and she hadn't even been the victim of it yet. Christ, this defeatism wouldn't get her anywhere. She needed a nap, and a drink. Preferably not in that order.

Glancing up towards the helm of the ship, she saw Jack already watching her, his dark gaze not faltering a bit even as she caught him staring. Not that she would expect it to. Theo was the first to look away, directing her attention out towards the open ocean. She'd expected to find it daunting - especially after her stint as a piece of driftwood - to feel like such a small speck in an endless span of water. Instead, it was peaceful. Freeing. Beautiful, even, in the glow of the brilliant orange sunset. She could get used to this - if only for the time being.

"We're all on the same side, Will. We just…don't know it yet."

Oh, how she hoped she was right. Luckily - or perhaps unluckily - she had the entire two day journey to Tortuga to ponder it.

A/N: I do plan on dropping in on James fairly frequently over the course of their separation, so worry not! We shan't be completely without our leading man until the, uh, happy reunion.