A/N: The bad news is ya girl has the virus. The good news is that the symptoms are super mild and I feel absolutely fine. The bad news is I'm now isolating for a second week in a row and getting ready to reenact The Yellow Wallpaper. The good news is I have lots of extra writing time again!

Theo called and two of Ada's girls came to remove the tray and the bath, neither of them seeming much fazed by the fact that the water inside was all but black as they emptied it out of the window. Sitting on the chair, she pretended not to notice the speculative looks they flickered between herself and James while he stood by the hearth with an impressive amount of grandeur for a man who was shoeless with damp hair. When they were gone, she rose to her feet and slid the bolt soundlessly along the door, before turning the key in the lock. After that, she turned back to James and found him looking as tired as she felt.

Considering the night they'd had, she thought it would be days before she felt ready to sleep again, but the aftermath of it all - the nerves, the adrenaline, the excitement, the kiss - had left her limbs and eyes in a battle for what could feel the heaviest.

"The blankets are all yours if you want 'em," she gestured tiredly at the bed, trying not to appear as awkward as she felt "I can't deal with this heat."

She was already dreading trying to sleep with clothes on, truth be told, but hopefully the exhaustion would help with that.

"You should try tackling it with a wig on."

"Don't give me any more reason to burn that thing," she snorted.

It was already looking beyond redemption at the top of the pile of his filthy clothes in the corner of the room. The only reason that she hadn't seized upon her chance to be rid of it was that she knew, even if just symbolically, it meant something to him. But if he tried to put it back on, he might force her hand. Thankfully, he didn't seem to take offense, instead giving a quiet and somewhat tired chuckle.

Determined not to make a thing of their sleeping arrangements, she climbed onto the bed and scooted along until she was almost pressed against the wall. Standardised bed sizes had not yet reached this time (or if they had, they weren't common in Tortuga), and while her bed was not quite a single, it was hardly a double either. It must've been sized with the assumption that if the owner saw fit to share it, close quarters wouldn't be much of a problem. Considering where they were, it wasn't a completely outlandish assumption to make.

Unsure whether smiling at him might be misconstrued at some kind of attempt at a seductive temptress "come hither" type thing, she instead turned onto her side so that her back was to the room, and settled down into the bed. A few moments passed, and she began to wonder if she'd soon find herself scolding him for trying to sleep on the floor, but then came the creak of floorboards as he moved, and the patch of wall before her eyes grew dimmer and dimmer as he blew out the candles on the table, and then the one on the bedside cabinet. Finally the bed shifted just slightly under his weight as he sat, and then she felt him finally lie down behind her.

"Thank you, Theodora," he said quietly into the darkness.

The only light in the room came from the fire, and it would be reduced to mere embers before long.

"You're more than welcome," she replied.

His back brushed hers as he made himself comfortable, and then there was nothing but their breathing. Sleep found her more quickly than she expected.

Amidst everything, it hadn't even occurred to her to dread the dreams. Maybe she'd been overcome by some romantic notion that James' presence would stave them off, but it did not. Indeed, if anything it strengthened them. The humming felt so near that it might as well have been directly in her ear - she might've even thought it was James itself were it not for the fact that it was distinctly feminine despite the fact that it was low. She tried to move - to open her eyes to turn her head, even to lift a hand. To do anything in the face of this strange musical harasser, but it felt like her entire body was cased in steel and she wasn't able to move a single muscle. And then a cool hand brushed up the side of her face, smoothed over her hair, and she jolted awake.

It felt like she'd been sleeping for mere minutes, but the room was in complete darkness when her eyes flew open, save for the barest hints of burgeoning deep blue dawn light that was threatening to slip in between the gaps in the shutters. By some miracle she managed to avoid lashing out at James in her panic (because wouldn't that have been a great way to reward him for just taking the damn bed?), but the room felt stiflingly hot and humid. Were the air any more damp, they'd have been in danger of drowning.

Sliding forward on her backside until she reached the foot of the bed, she clambered clumsily to her feet and eased the shutters open carefully so that they wouldn't creak. The air outside was barely any cooler than that inside, but at least there was a bit of a breeze.

"Are you well?"

James' deep voice, rough from sleep, broke the silence and had her jumping almost a foot in the air.

"I'm sorry for waking you," she said softly, bringing her head back inside so he could hear her.

"I sleep lightly - these days more than ever. I woke when you started."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he said gently "What troubles you?"

"Dreams. Weird dreams."

"Of the ocean?"

"No, those stopped when I got here," she shook her head "These are different. Did you…"

She trailed off, and then decided that she had no intention of finishing the question at all. It hadn't been him humming, nor his hand that touched her face, she knew it full well. Asking - especially the second part - would only risk insulting him. Hey, I know you struggled to sleep in the same bed as me without thinking you were overstepping, but did you happen to touch me at all? No. And it wasn't his hand, she knew it wasn't. She would have known if it was.

"After all you've been through, it's only natural for those things to prey upon you while you sleep."

Theo hesitated. It would be easy for her to allow him to think they were only nightmares, but that would cast a shadow over her new assurances of honesty wherever possible. Being honest just wasn't a habit that she was particularly in these days.

"No, these are different. They're like the old ones. I don't know how to explain it, but it's not just a dream."

It was difficult to make out his features in the darkness of the room, but she could just about make out the way his lips twisted into a grimace. She just wasn't sure whether it was because more often than not he was a skeptic to a fault, or because he didn't like the implications of her assertion anymore than she did.

"You said the last ones began as far as your memory will allow you to recall, correct?" He asked slowly "So perhaps these new ones don't mean anything…imminent."

He didn't even sound sure of his assurances as he said them, and she was near enough certain that he was only saying it to put her mind at ease.

"Maybe," she murmured.

But her last ones had heralded a dimension leap, so what were these ones all about? It was all too much. Especially within a few minutes of waking up, and extra especially when she was now around somebody with whom putting on a brave face wasn't a necessity. Sighing tiredly, she glanced towards the bed, but any fatigue was fiercely combatted by how much she dreaded another one of those damned dreams. Wiping the sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her shirt, she then wiped at her eyes and tried to think of something that could occupy her. She could begin washing his coat, she supposed. The shirt and the breeches were beyond redemption, but the coat was not so easily replaced. She'd have to fetch and boil the water herself, Ada and her girls would all be snoring by now, but that was no bother. Afterwards, she could attend to breakfast, clear up the jug and cups from last night and then she'd have to return to her list for Jack-

"Theodora," James cut through her thoughts.

Looking to him, she saw he'd extended a hand. She approached without really thinking about it, only to be surprised when he scooted over to take up the space she'd occupied. Once he slipped her hand into his, he gently encouraged her to sit down until she lay reclined against him.

"Is this quite proper?" She gave a tired laugh.

"I recall a woman who once exclaimed to me that she would like, just once, for me to not give a damn about propriety," he murmured.

This cajoled another laugh from her - one that was surprised and almost breathless. Of all the requests she'd ever made of him, that had been the very last one she'd expected him to heed. His hold on her hand remained, but she had no complaints to make on that score, and instead she lifted the back of his to her lips and pressed a kiss to it.

"I missed you," she murmured.

"And I you," he returned "Sorely indeed. Now rest. If your sleep seems fitful I'll wake you."

Theo had never put value into needing other people. She'd always figured that the only person she could completely and entirely trust all the way to the end was herself - so long as she could trust her own ability, her own strength, which she often made sure that she could - and that was fine. At least if she operated by that code, she knew she'd never be let down…and if she was, she'd only have herself to blame. Admittedly, sometimes that extended to others - her dad, her "uncles", a few select friends, but none of them had been born yet so that put her shit out of luck. The point was, she never much liked the idea of another person making her feel safe. If she couldn't make herself feel safe, what was the use? But none of that mattered now thanks to how entirely protected she felt, wrapped in his arms as she was now.

James, being James, remained utterly respectful, even as they flirted with impropriety. The hand that did not hold hers came to rest on her shoulder rather than at her waist, and as she settled with her face resting on his shoulder he rested his chin atop her head. She was asleep again before she was even aware she'd begun drifting off, and this time her dreams remained undisturbed. Although she wasn't sure whether that was because James had truly scared off her own person Phantom of the Opera, or if whatever plagued her was content to limit their brushes to once per night. It was difficult to tell, given that she usually never worked up the nerve to return to her bed once driven from it until another night closed in.

When her eyes next opened, daylight was streaming into the room and her ears were met with a litany of harshly shouted curse-words trickling in from the open window.

"Ada's having problems with her supplier again," she mumbled.

"I never thought I'd ever meet a woman with a fouler mouth than you," James murmured in return.

Theo snickered. She'd take that as a compliment.

"I'll give her points for her colourful tongue, but none for creativity."

"Mm, creativity was always more your forte. Groves took great pleasure in recounting to me how he overheard your referring to Amelia Simmonds as a bizarre little fool on one occasion."

She laughed again, this time almost fondly. That day was one that she remembered.

"Not to her face," she pointed out.

"Sadly."

"I didn't realise anybody could hear. I was trying to get out of the habit of, er, using language that those in Port Royal would not warm to. Wound up saying whatever words first came to mind."

"Making how incredibly apt they were all the more impressive."

Ada's diatribe was continuing outside "He's useless! Bloody useless! Couldn't organise a piss-up in a fucking brewery!"

"I taught her that one," Theo said fondly.

"Your mark on this time knows no bounds," he deadpanned, but his hand took up hers once again and she wondered if he was really referring to her colourful turn of phrase "I must ask…what did you mean?"

"With the saying Ada picked up, or the comment about Amelia Simmonds?"

"When you spoke of marriage."

Theo blinked "What?"

"You said it was different in your time," he said slowly "Optional, was it? How so?"

She hesitated, and then began slowly. It was a loaded topic if ever there was one, after all.

"Women are the equals of men. Well, more than they are now anyway. It's not perfect, not yet, there will always be shitty people who mean us harm, but it's a far cry from what it is now. We can vote, we can own property, we can have jobs - jobs that aren't allowed not to choose us because we're women - all of it. Marriage isn't a necessity to get by. And those who do marry men don't become the property of them. It's a partnership - between equals. There's no such thing as a husband who disciplines his wife, that's just abuse. If any of my friends back home had husbands who expected their obedience, we'd all tell her to leave him."

She glanced up at him and found his brow furrowed and his eyes thoughtful as he considered the meaning of her words.

"What do you think of it?" She pressed gently "Of the differences, I mean?"

"It sounds much improved," he admitted slowly "I'm not sure many would deign to call me anything but a staunch traditionalist, but this is one area where progression may be a good thing."

"You never wanted to be a lord and master of a household, then?"

"If obedience and meekness in a wife were things that I sought, I'd hardly have set my eyes on you," he replied wryly.

Theo felt her cheeks blaze - not because he'd implied that she was disobedient, but at the word wife. Which was ridiculous of her, really. She was already facing the prospect of remaining here for him. Why did the idea of marriage seem more extreme? People here didn't date, they didn't simply live together. They courted. They married. While his assurance that he would never expect her to be the sort of wife most men here would want, she also knew they couldn't leave a few other aspects that might very well make her unsuitable in his eyes undiscussed.

Slipping her hand from his, she sat up and slid her feet over the side of the bed until they touched the wooden floor. He mistook the gesture.

"I know discussions of such things may seem a trifle fast," he said slowly "And I expect there are other details of how things are in your time that I do not yet understand, but…that is the path we find ourselves on, is it not? Even if it's the beginning of that path?"

"I couldn't offer you a dowry," she pointed out "They're not a thing in my time, but even if they were, given my circumstances…"

"I've no need of one," he said gently "Even if such things mattered to me, I'd have some amount of audacity to expect it given that the most I can offer in the way of a husband at present is a disgraced former Commodore."

"You're much more than that, James," she shook her head.

"And you're much more than a stipend."

"I'm…" she hesitated, and then sighed and closed her eyes.

He had to know. Her modern sensibilities were furious that these times had even made her ashamed of it, but she knew that shame stemmed from fear that it would matter to him. And maybe it would. Had he not just referred to himself as a traditionalist?

"I'm not a…a maiden," she said finally.

Silence.

"You said you had no husband," he said finally, his tone unreadable.

"I don't," she said "Never did."

"…I see."

"It's what I mean with marriage being optional there. I have…I have friends who've lived with their partners for years, married in all but name, and still consider themselves too young to actually marry. Nobody waits until marriage anymore."

Well, that was a nuanced thing, but she wasn't about to get into a whole explanation of how religion had changed, and the different stances on that. In her world, nobody waited until marriage. She couldn't name a single friend who had. After a few more beats of silence, she finally made herself look at him. His face remained unreadable.

"Since coming here?" He asked finally.

She knew the question that really posed. It was one he'd asked her a few times, albeit with different implications. Sparrow? Who were the alternatives? Groves? Will? Jack was the only man he'd seen her have much of anything to do with who'd take liberties in such a way. And she'd be lying if she said she hadn't had the opportunity. There'd been more than one night on The Black Pearl that had found them sharing a drink together with him making eyes at her. And she'd even considered it, vaguely, and very hypothetically. He could provide a bit of distraction. A bit of fun. But she knew she'd never forgive herself if she did it - she'd never live it down, and James would never forgive her either. It would be a few hours of escapism followed by a whole load of regret.

To his credit though, while Jack was a flirt he was never creepy. He'd make a thinly veiled invitation, she'd brush it off with a joke, and he'd accept it with a comment about the door always being open. And that was that.

"No," she answered him simply "Not since coming here. Not since I met you."

That seemed to lighten his face, at least.

"…All right."

"James," she sighed "You don't like it. I know you don't like it. So don't pretend otherwise, because I just want to get this out in the open and if you can accept it then great, but if…if it's a deal-breaker I'd rather know now and then we can-"

"It does not change how I feel about you, Theodora," he said firmly "If I can accept your being born centuries from now, I can bear this."

But he went no further.

"You don't like it, though."

"How might I like it?" He countered with a scoff "But I know you. Things are equal in your time, yes? If I make a complaint, you will ask me if I have ever been with a woman, then I will have to admit that I have, and you'll name me a hypocrite for being troubled by the fact that you've done the same."

Damn. He did know her indeed.

"You have?" She asked curiously.

It didn't surprise her, not really. Not in a way. Somebody who had never done anything before didn't kiss the way James kissed her, but still…it seemed oddly surprising for the honourable James Norrington to have indulged out of wedlock.

"When I was a young sailor, it was…expected of men to make port and make some kind of effort to learn the art of pleasing a woman," he said carefully "It is not an indulgence I entertained often - and not one I've bothered with for some time."

"Evidently you were a fast learner, then," she said drily.

He scoffed, but when she looked at him again she noted the colour threatening to rise to his cheeks "I'm not sure I should ever grow used to your sense of humour. Am…am I to understand that such things are not immoral in your time?"

"Not immoral at all. I told you, everything's freer there."

"Have you any children?"

"What? No!"

"It's not an unreasonable question, unless…are you…are you capable?"

"I have no reason to think I'm not."

The confusion was clear on his face then, and she sighed quietly, extending her hand. The way he placed his in hers with no hesitation was reassuring, at least, but his confusion grew when she lifted his hand to her upper arm, taking his forefinger and pressing it carefully into a specific spot on the outside of it.

"Do you feel that little bump there?" She asked, guiding his finger to press down over it.

He nodded with a frown.

"It stops me from conceiving. We call it birth control, there are loads of methods, but it allows for couples to have sex without the consequences if they're not ready for them."

"If they're not ready for them, then surely abstinence is a solution?"

"James," she sighed "You're not that naive. It doesn't always work that way."

"Perhaps not. Perhaps some betrothed couples have lapses of willpower and some babes are born not looking so premature as they supposedly are, but this suggests something more than…than a fit of passion. The fact that there should be a whole branch of technology dedicated to it is more than ample evidence for…for premeditation."

"It's sex, James, not murder."

"It's a worrying glimpse into morals of the world you hail from," he replied archly.

"Oh, for the love of Christ," she sighed.

Standing, she walked to the table and took up her knife from it. It took a bit of fumbling, during which she ignored his questioning, but finally she had the sleeve of her shirt rolled all the way up to her shoulder. Dragging the chair towards the window so she'd have some decent light, she felt out for the slight bump of her implant and then lifted her knife to the spot.

"What in God's name are you doing?" He was up at at her side with impressive speed, staying her hand.

"Taking it out," she countered "It bothers you that much, it can go. I don't care about it."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're not a surgeon-"

"It's not like I can let any surgeon here see it. Even more reason for it to go. It's fine, it's just under the skin, I'll just wash it and wrap it after. They only work for so long anyway so it'll have to come out at some point."

By her reckoning, she had a year left of it working as it was. But James' hand didn't budge from her wrist.

"Leave it, Theodora. At least for now. We can…we can revisit it at another time."

"It bothers you," she pointed out - and tried to keep the accusation out of her tone.

"Not on a personal level - not towards you. As to what it implies about the direction in which Christendom is headed? Yes, I'll admit it does."

He let go of her hand, but did not sit down on the bed again until she put the knife down, proving she wasn't about to start hacking into her arm after all. Now lacking any great gesture to try and prove her point, Theo felt herself at a loss as to what to do - and hating the strange feeling of shame that was slowly creeping over her despite the fact that she knew, by her own conscience at least, that she hadn't done anything to actually be ashamed of. Maybe it was because she hadn't managed to escape his disappointment after all, despite his claims that he didn't think less of her.

"I don't know what to tell you," she said finally "I could only live by the morals that I was brought up with. I'm sorry if that's proven a disappointment to you."

"It hasn't," he repeated firmly - and she was tempted to believe him this time "You haven't. It…I suppose it's a hazard of the differences between our worlds. We must learn to navigate them. To endeavour to understand where we can."

"Like when you couldn't call off your betrothal," she commented quietly.

It wasn't a comparison she'd yet made, but when she did, she felt any small amount of lingering resentment and hurt lessen immediately. How fair would it be of her to expect him to understand complications like this while refusing to do the same? He blinked, for apparently he hadn't made the connection either, and then his face softened.

"Yes. Like that," he replied "But we must straighten out one thing. This…what is between us…I have no intention for it to be casual, nor temporary, nor whatever other things are common three hundred years from now. Theodora, my intention with you is marriage. It is to live my life with you by my side, or me by yours, however tumultuous times prove. We may court as long as you wish, we may have as long an engagement as you wish, but for me it would always be with marriage in mind. Do you find yourself of a similar mind, or…?"

"James, you are the only man I've ever been able to even think about marrying," she laughed softly, tiredly "I dread the thought of a future that doesn't include you."

And somehow, when she phrased it like that, it didn't scare her half so much as she thought.

"Then you've no need to think of it," he said firmly.

"But if the fact that I'm not a virgin is something that you can't reconcile with, you have to say it," she repeated "I won't hold it against you."

He stood then, only to kneel before her and clasp her hands in his, looking her in the eye with the utmost sincerity.

"It does not change my mind. Hear that," he repeated firmly.

He hesitated then, and she thought he was going to go back on his word already. Despite his assurances, she was still worried. It was such a big thing here - women who had sex with anybody but their husbands being the scorn of society, usually deserving of disease and death in whatever novels they ended up in. But then the hesitation left his face, and that devilish confident streak that showed in him before he kissed her the night before returned to his face. Oh, James could be shy at times, but when once he was certain that there was no fear of rejection, that shyness disappeared and was replaced by something that often threatened to take the breath from her lungs, leaving her laughing at herself for thinking that just because she hailed from a time a bit less buttoned up that she was the only one who could incite blushes and flusters.

"I confess," he said softly "When taking the matter into consideration, I find it…reassuring to know that when the time comes, your pleasure won't be marred by pain."

Theo's jaw slackened out of sheer surprise, and then she felt her own eyes darken with desire. He smirked.

"Come, we should ready ourselves for the day. Whatever our days may look like in a place such as this."

Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of it which lingered for just a moment, and then he was up and making an inspection of his coat. It took Theo a moment rise to her feet, but far longer to combat the thoughts that his word had given way to.

James Norrington, a dark horse indeed. She couldn't wait to see more of that. God help her.

A/N: Gargantuan note ahead here to discuss bits and pieces about this chapter, so I'm sorry about that!

SO I honestly felt like their relationship couldn't go ahead without the whole virginity thing at least being discussed, and discussed early on at that. Not least because if-and-when they sleep together, he'd expect her to be a virgin, considering she's never been married, and I think Theo would a) be aware of that expectation and b) be uncomfortable letting him keep assuming it. In the very beginning I did play with the idea of having Theo be a virgin just for ease, but that felt like a cop-out, and then I also considered leaving it out because it is a loaded subject that I don't want to dwell on too much here, but it felt like it would at least be a conversation, and I hope I did it some amount of justice here.

I really don't think James would be the sort to fall out of love with a woman just because he wouldn't be the first to have sex with her. I think, in some AU timeline of the canon, if he lived to see Elizabeth marry Will and have his kid, it wouldn't change the fact that he'd still be in love with her. But he is an eighteenth century man full of ideas about morality and honour as far as extramarital sex goes, so I also don't think it would be as simple as a shrug and an "okay!", so I was very much trying to walk a tricky line here that ultimately has his love and loyalty winning out. But hey, maybe we'll see some actual plot soon!

I will also die on the hill that Theo is absolutely metal enough to try and remove her own implant. I additionally tried to hint towards the end at the change we do see in James in the second movie where he's more relaxed and not quite as buttoned up - I can't imagine COTPB James giving Elizabeth the whole sarcastic "there was a time I'd have given anything to have you looking like that while you thought about me" speech to Elizabeth that he does in DMC. I think that shyness would dissipate even more with Theo given that, you know, it's all reciprocated. I like flustered James as much as the next gal, but there's something about the side that we see of him in DMC that's just a hell of a lot and I want to see Theo suffer as we do.

Thank you guys so much for your incredibly lovely comments these last few chapters, as well as the insanely generous ko-fi supporters I've had recently. There's been more than one occasion where I've had to lie down to recover from the sheer kindness you've shown, and my IRL friends have received many a teary voice note on messenger in the group chat about it, too, and I'll never be able to say thank you enough! It's made a very rough few months so much more bearable and completely gotten me through them with some semblance of sanity.