A/N: Apologies for this chapter being a bit late - if it's any consolation, I drank a black coffee at 10pm tonight to get it finished. Suffering for my art, truly.

"Have you lost your mind?" Will stared at her in disbelief.

"I had to improvise!" Theo protested "They can't afford more scandal, it's fine, there won't be any consequences."

"Lieutenant Groves will tell Commodore Norrington - who will then be furious with you."

Theo pursed her lips. It wasn't like he wasn't correct, but what else could she say? There was no other version of events that would make sense - it had taken her days of stewing just to find this one. James would be furious if it got back to him (when it got back to him, she supposed, knowing the bond between military men), but maybe that wasn't even a bad thing in itself. She could deal with fury and scoldings more than she could with awkward silences and sad gazes.

"I can handle that," she said finally with a sigh.

The frown on Will's gaze was more worried than disapproving, and she couldn't pretend it didn't touch her that he would even worry about her at all. Her tentative friendship with him hadn't come quite so easily as her one with Elizabeth had. Who would have known she'd now be standing here chatting with the former instead of the latter? Certainly not her.

Elizabeth, for her part, had been avoiding her all night. It was a stark contrast to the previous parties, where she'd sought her out and kept her under her wing all evening. Maybe it was a glowing statement that Theo didn't need such babying anymore, but she knew what it really was - the woman felt awkward. Who could blame her? Theo found herself squirming whenever people remarked to her as to how happy she must be for James. It must've been worse for Elizabeth, for she was in a similar boat with her feelings for Will, on top of having to pretend to be a bride on the verge of impending bliss.

No, if they were to get through tonight they would have to avoid each other. The nods they shared a handful of times throughout the evening when they caught the eye of one another seemed to confirm there were no hard feelings, and eased the ache of that particular strain. After all, her relationship with James wasn't the only one struggling here, and she missed her friend badly. Had it been any other man involved, Elizabeth would have been her confidant here - and vice versa. It was a shitty state of affairs all round. And growing shittier still, considering her hatred for asking for help and what she knew she'd have to ask of Will next.

"Listen, Will, I...I need a favour. Please."

It was a big stomp over the very thin ice of their incredibly new friendship, but she didn't have a whole lot of choice.

"What is it?"

It was obvious that he desired details before he committed himself. Smart. Casting a precautionary glance around the room, she stepped closer and lowered her voice. Should anybody turn their attention to them (likely, given recent events), it would simply appear that they were sharing in a particularly intriguing piece of gossip. Of course, in a few weeks people would probably assume this was the moment when they'd first begun conspiring to set Jack Sparrow free.

"I need you to teach me how to fight. I can hold my own in a scrap, but recent events have shown that the sort of stuff that goes on here...well, it's a bit out of my realm. I need experience - practise - with a blade."

Will's dark eyes darkened further for the frown that took over his features as he slowly took in her words.

"...Why would you need it?" he asked slowly.

Theo grimaced "Er...a precautionary measure?"

He looked distinctly unimpressed at that, shaking his head a little and scoffing.

"All right, I'm not expecting a very smooth future and I need to prepare, alright?" she sighed "I don't want to be a burden, but I don't really have a wealth of options-"

"A ringing endorsement if there ever was one."

"-and I know of your skill," she ended "I'm not flattering you, I've seen your fight with Jack. You held your own. I can't really boast of the same."

She gestured vaguely to her neck for emphasis.

"I'm not expecting miracles, I'm just...hoping to survive all of this."

"So it isn't finished?" he asked "Should I be worried?"

Theo winced "Not...not yet. You'll have a little bit of time to breathe for now. So will Elizabeth."

He didn't seem to actually relax until she tacked on that very last part. And then his eyes darted back and forth for a moment, the cogs clearly turning behind them.

"But you won't?"

Theo said nothing.

"Which can only mean that Jack will be fine," he lowered his voice, thank the gods, to a whisper at that "Unless you're suggesting you plan to take up a solitary career in pirating."

Not a simpleton, indeed.

"Are you saying that doesn't sound like something I'd do?" she joked weakly.

"Are you saying that it'll work? My idea?"

"Only if it's executed exceptionally well," she allowed.

"What an unfortunate choice of words," he commented grimly.

"I claim to be many things but a poet isn't one of them. But if I'm to get by, my swordsmanship - or swordswomanship - could use a bit of work."

"Have you ever considered remaining here, where such a skill wouldn't be needed?"

"I don't have much of a choice."

Sighing heavily, Will looked around the room, his shoulders slumping - but rather than checking for potential eavesdroppers, his eyes instead sought out Elizabeth. It gave Theo a moment to do the same. Multiple sets of eyes had hardly ceased to burn into her all evening, leaving her skin crawling, but when she met James' gaze across the room she realised why the sensation had seemed to increase tenfold in the last few moments. He looked between her and Will, and Theo held his gaze - defiantly. Maybe a wee bit petulantly. What right did he have to be bothered by her talking to another man when he was literally engaged to another woman? Whatever defiance she managed to muster disappeared entirely, however, when she noticed Groves making a reluctant approach to him. She was the first to look away, saved by the fact that Will was speaking again.

"She's really going to marry him then," he said softly "She must be, if you're leaving."

Theo kept her face perfectly expressionless. That was one clarification he could do without for now - although she did wonder if it was so outlandish that she simply had little desire to be a second choice.

"I'll help you," he said finally "But it shall have to be in private. Somewhere secluded. Should anybody catch wind of it, they'll either stop it or use it to cast aspersions regarding your innocence."

"Thank you, Will - thank you," she said it - and then considered saying it a third time just to drive home her gratitude.

Judging by the weary smile he attempted to muster, he knew her gratitude to be genuine.

The carriage ride back at the end of the night was silent - and not the sort of silent they usually lapsed into as of late. It was more pointed than awkward. It had sharp edges. As did the scowl on James' face, illuminated by the meagre streetlamps the carriage rattled on forward. Theo was drunk. She could feel that she was drunk. Although maybe that was a good sign - for people who were utterly sloshed didn't tend to be aware of that fact. No, she knew she was tipsy, but she was still in pretty decent control of herself. It just meant that she wasn't shy about staring at the scowl on his face, trying to work out what had caused it. When he caught her gaze, he held it, pinning her beneath the weight of his glare. It was easy to see why his men feared his ire.

"You talked to Groves, then," she mumbled tiredly.

"We'll discuss this at the house," he said flatly "That, and a great many other things."

Theo resisted the urge to say that she couldn't wait. Adding fuel to this particular fire wouldn't prove useful in any way. What she'd said to Will - 'I can handle James' anger' now seemed laughably naïve. She hadn't quite anticipated feeling like a scolded child as the carriage continued its slow progress towards his house. This particular mode of transport had felt unbearably slow when she'd first arrived here. Hardly much faster than walking, especially in comparison to the cars and trains she was used to back home. Since then they'd ceased to feel so bad, but now she was struck with that feeling again. In fact, she was half tempted to climb out and walk alongside the coach, knowing she'd hardly struggle to keep up and then she could at least stop feeling so suffocated by the terrible atmosphere here.

However, doing that would be admitting defeat…and she was nothing if not stubborn. So she sat, and she counted in her head to distract herself, and had gotten to sixty-seven (after losing count and starting over twice) by the time they drew to a halt outside of James' house. He got out and held the door, waiting for her to follow - but he did not offer a hand to help her, which was basically a big fat 'fuck you' in his language. Climbing out, Theo teetered slightly, but then she found her balance and followed him down the garden path, through the front door, and into the living room. The fire burned brightly but there was no sign of Hattie, who must have already retired.

Once she was in the room, James closed the door with a decisive thud, but he remained standing. She followed suit, hands folded before her. And then she waited. For a lecture. For an explosion of sheer temper. For shouting. For a battle. What came was much worse.

"Theodora, how could you?"

If the question wasn't enough to yank the wind from her sails, the look of hurt mingled with pure exhaustion in his eyes cut her like a goddamn knife. It killed whatever counterargument she'd been forming.

"What?" She asked softly, for lack of anything else to say.

"I…" he gave an empty imitation of a laugh "I had thought us friends. Before - if not…Well. Imagine my surprise when I then come to find that as recompense for everything I have done for you, you mastermind a scheme to see my ship in the hands of a pirate."

Theo bit down on the inside of her cheek.

"Elizabeth was-" she began weakly.

"Was that why? Because - because I'd proposed to her? Or because I left you that night to see to-"

"No! Jesus Christ, how could you think I'd be that petty? She was missing, kidnapped by pirates- what, you think I set out to get revenge because that took priority over kissing my scrapes better?"

"I didn't think you'd conspire to steal my ship, either, and yet here we are!" he was losing his ironclad control, voice threatening to rise to a shout.

Well. He had her there, didn't he?

"Do you wish to know the most pathetic part?" He continued at a rant "Had you told me this yourself - had you come to me and explained it directly to me once we returned, had I not had to hear it from Lieutenant Groves, I would have forgiven it! Perhaps not without argument, but God knows I would have endeavoured to understand, Theodora!"

Theo was frozen, rooted to the spot by the force of his reaction. Not least because of the shame she felt over the fact that she was surprised by the reaction. What else had she expected? Anger, yes. Irritation, definitely. A lecture, of course. But not this sheer show of...of emotion. And that was the root of her shame - for she'd fallen into the trap that so many others did of believing that James was as stoic and indifferent as he'd have everybody think.

"Instead, you returned here, muttered - muttered incoherencies and vaguely promised explanations, and instead left it up to Groves to tell me. You knew he would, you had to know. You're from a military family, as you've made so painfully plain time and time again - you therefore knew that telling one of my lieutenants was as good as telling me. I never dreamed you'd resort to such underhanded tactics, for while you're many things, cowardly is not one of them. The question which therefore begs to be asked is this - are my skills in discerning character so sorely in need of refinement, or are you just exceptionally skilled in the art of deception? For it is becoming plain that there is still much you aren't telling me, and I'm no longer as certain as I once was that those things are entirely innocuous, so I'm no longer content to pretend that I cannot see it."

Christ, there were a lot of long words there - ones which came together to form even longer sentences, and the adrenaline that this discussion had sent coursing through her hadn't quite managed to sober her up just yet. And so she said the only thing that made sense to say at that particular moment. The only thing that might feasibly ease the guilt and the look of sheer betrayal that he weighed upon her.

"I lied."

"Yes, I've gathered that," he said flatly.

"No, not to - I mean to Groves. I lied to Groves. I knew he'd go to you and repeat what I'd said, but...but it wasn't true."

Her logical, sober self was screaming at her mouth to shut up. Hell, her tipsy self was joining in.

"It was a lie?" he asked it exasperatedly - disbelievingly, like she was a child insisting that it was her imaginary friend who drew on the walls and not her.

"Yes."

"A lie designed to get you in trouble?" he scoffed.

"A lie designed to sound plausible, because the truth isn't."

"And what is the truth?"

"You'd never believe it," she gave a tired laugh.

"Tell me."

"It's pointless."

"Tell me!"

"I…"

The truth was right there on her tongue - and oh, what a relief it would be to say it. To have a good explanation for once, and one that didn't leave her looking impulsive or selfish or stupid or some combination of the three. But the relief would only last for a second. Maybe two if she was lucky. And then the regret would follow. No, she couldn't tell him. Maybe one day. But not now. However...if she couldn't tell him the whole truth, was there some way that she might give him a shade of it? The thought almost had her groaning aloud. What was a shade of "I'm living out my own weird episode of Doctor Who"? The closest she could realistically get to the truth was what he already knew - she'd come here from Ireland and was utterly fucked so far as having anywhere else to go or anybody else to help was concerned.

Christ, why had she opened her mouth? Drinking had been a mistake. Getting comfortable here had been a mistake. Inhaling sharply, she hugged her arms to herself and furiously ignored the tears that were beginning to fill her vision. She was exhausted, she was angry, she was probably the most stressed she'd ever been in her entire life, and she was homesick for a place she might very well never be able to return to. And her own stupid feelings had only served to alienate the two proper friends she'd made since arriving here. Everything was fucked, everything was a mess, and she wished she could wash her hands of all of it.

But the tears were good for one thing - when she finally looked back to James, surprised that he'd fallen silent, he seemed lost for words. Evidently her reaction hadn't been what he'd expected, either.

"Tell me," he said a third time, voice softened now - more of a plea than a demand "Theodora..."

Damn him.

"I...I know things. I get these feelings, these premonitions, and I follow them. I don't know why, I can't explain it, it's not on purpose - I'm not a witch," she stopped only when her lungs demanded air, breathing heavily for a moment or two before she continued "But I know things. That morning, when I left, I...I knew what Sparrow was going to do. And I knew I couldn't stay here. So I went to meet him, to make sure he wasn't...he wasn't as bad as the others, and then I hid on The Interceptor and I waited."

Silence. A long and terrible silence during which all she could hear was her own breathing and the pounding of her heart. And then he sighed heavily.

"Oh, please," he shook his head.

"It's true!"

The look that earned her was less than impressed. It was almost funny, too, for not a full minute ago she'd regretted saying anything to him, and now that he didn't believe her she found herself outraged. Theo was beginning to suspect that there would be no winning for her.

"Tell me you've never had a moment in battle where you've ducked out of instinct, with no clue as to why, only for a bullet to fly past where your head just was," she pushed "Tell me you've never abandoned a battle plan just because something didn't feel right, only to find that if you'd gone through with it, you'd have died. Tell me that trusting your gut isn't one of the first things you try to instil in your men."

"There's that, and then there's what you're claiming," he scoffed.

But even as he did, there was something in his eyes that snagged her. Some shred of doubt. She needed to seize upon it - whether it would help her or only dig her a different sort of grave, she knew she had to. Her mind flew back to the moment between James and Groves while they watched him sail away with The Interceptor. The moment she shouldn't know anything about. "That's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen" followed by James' dour "so it would seem". But it wasn't enough. Groves could've told her about that - and in any case, it didn't support what she was saying. Whipping that out would take her assertions from 'an eerily uncanny gut' to 'burn the witch'. There had to be something. Something in her past - well, what he thought was her past that…

"I knew."

"Knew what?"

"Before we met. Before I jumped overboard. I...I knew that I'd live. I didn't know that he - that my husband would follow me. I didn't know that he'd drown. But...I knew that I'd be fine. That's why I did it. If I trust it enough to stake me own life on it, you have to concede that I have a point. How many other women do you know who would jump overboard on a whim like that?"

"I don't know any women who would do half of the things that you do, bar…" he remembered himself then, pausing.

"Bar Elizabeth," Theo finished for him with a sad laugh "It would appear you have a type."

He didn't find it quite as funny as she did - for even though her wording had him frowning, she knew he got the gist of what she was saying.

"A joke," she clarified tiredly "A bad one. A compliment on your fine taste, maybe."

Likely worried that any response would only cause a problem - and who could blame him for that? - he simply watched her. Several emotions warred on his face for first place. Tiredness was chief among them, but also sadness. Confusion. Hurt. Doubt. Curiosity. Her tall tale of how she'd become a widow had clearly done the trick. The frown that they all merged together to form packed a hell of a punch.

"That was...That was how you were so ready for a fight when Port Royal was set upon," he reasoned quietly.

"I knew something bad was going to happen that night. I suspected it would reach the house."

"And here I thought you just had supernatural courage," he snorted, all but staggering to the sofa and lowering himself down onto it before removing his wig with a single sweeping motion "I suppose you still do. Plenty of men would falter under such circumstances."

Theo remained standing.

"You believe me, then?"

"I…" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose "I believe that you believe. I know you. I like to think I know when you're speaking in earnest."

"And you don't think me a witch?"

He looked at her then, thoroughly unimpressed - like he'd never heard a more stupid question in all his life "You've attended church with me before. You don't shy away from the word of God, and you're able to recite the Lord's Prayer without incident. Whatever...instincts you purport to be in possession of, they're not malevolent."

Theo almost laughed. Almost. For however cold and logical he believed himself to be, he'd absolutely just spouted a whole load of superstition.

"I...I shall have to think on it. I almost prefer this madness to the notion that you masterminded the theft of my ship single-handedly," he muttered, and then he paused "Did this...this gut feeling, as you put it, tell you that I would propose to Elizabeth?"

Now Theo did laugh - a tired chuckle as she finally sat down on the opposite sofa "Nobody needed any sort of gift of sight to see that, James."

"No," he murmured "I suppose not."

He looked away and she followed suit...and pretended not to notice how his eyes returned to her a moment later, and lingered thoughtfully for quite some time.

A/N: Skippable personal update. Actually had an uplifting time of it this week! I heard back from the housing people - things had been silent for so long because my caseworker has actually been changed so the crossover took a while, but my new one actually seems a lot more competent and helpful in her handling of my situation than the last one was, so it's been a nice little twist of fate! She needs to take care of some formalities, and then she can finally start seeing about helping me find a place. Still a loooong and likely stressful way to go, but the ball is finally rolling!