A/N: Apologies for the very slightly late update!

They descended the staircase into the tavern to be greeted with a whistle or two from the handful of the patrons who weren't too hungover to function. Theo's mind was already on her readings for the day, jangling the wooden runes in their pouch with her hand, when James caught her by the wrist as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"I thought we might have dinner together tonight," he said, appearing adorably nervous considering what he'd said to her in her rooms not even a full hour ago.

"Will we scout out Tortuga's least vomit-soaked tavern?" She teased.

He scoffed, shaking his head "A task even more impossible than stamping out piracy. Am I to take that as a yes?"

"Of course - I look forward to it," she smiled.

There was a pause where she wasn't quite sure how she was meant to say her goodbye - not just because she'd never been in a couple with James before, but because she'd never been in a couple in this time before. Normally back home it'd be a peck on the lips or something, but even a gesture as mild as that could be wild and outlandish now. So what, then? A curtsey? Finger-guns? In the end, she settled for a smile and a squeeze of the hand that held her wrist, and it seemed to be right for he smiled, let go, and made for the door.

Some small part of her was worried that he was off to find a tavern to drink in all day, but even the most paranoid part of her mind struggled to believe that the worry might be founded. From what she'd seen of it, addiction tended to be mental or physical (with the physical side following the mental one if it was left unchecked for long enough), and it didn't appear like he'd been left to drink himself into a stupor for the time it would take for a physical dependence to begin to take hold. There certainly wasn't any hints of such a thing in the movies - although a harrowing subplot dealing with Commodore Norrington's substance abuse probably wouldn't be very Disney-friendly.

But no, his turning to the bottle seemed only ever to be a way of coping with what he had lost - and now he had no longer lost it. Sort of. Well, it looked a lot less permanent to him now, anyway, and the change showed. He appeared to be a new man entirely - or his old self, rather - his shoulders squared, chin up, and brow set with determination as he crossed the tavern before finally stepping out into the street. Ah, the wonders of a bath and a bit of flirting. Whatever task had him looking so serious she suspected she'd soon find out, and his determination to see it through freed her up to tend to her own duties rather well. It was doubtful that Tortuga's finest would come seeking fortunes if they had to be glared down by James to do so.

For that, she could not blame them - he did cut rather a fearsome figure when he wanted to…which was often, present company taken into consideration.

The day rolled by surprisingly quickly in a series of not one, not three, but seven readings. It took a bit for them to be satisfied that James would not return any time soon, but once those lunchtime drinks took hold they were all more than happy to sit and hear about the wonders their futures held. The difficult part, other than doing what little she could to keep track of the lies the readings held, was discerning who could be of use and who could not - but Ada, despite not knowing her true purpose, let her know who the real scumbags were, and that tended to be enough.

"Y'know, I can't work it out. I really can't," Ada said as she joined her during her break "Either you're the shittest judge of character I've ever seen in somebody tasked with recruitment, or Cap'n Jack is out to do something so crazy that you need the stupidest, most immoral bastards out there to get the job done."

"I know what I'm doing," she said simply.

And thanked all that was good that for once the topic of conversation wasn't her hypothetical sex life.

"That sailor you just told not to invest in any new enterprises for some time there has one of the best sword arms on this side of the world. He's never been in a fight he's lost, and he doesn't even cheat at cards."

"You almost make that sound like a bad thing."

"Round here it is. So why's Jack got you recruiting arseholes, idiots, and everything in between?"

Theo shrugged "On the occasion that there is a thought process, he doesn't exactly clue me in on every detail of it. You said it yourself, he's an odd one. It's usually best not to ask questions."

"You're not the sort who avoids askin' questions, though, and you seem pretty relaxed about it all."

"The question I'm asking is why you're bothered. The sorts I'm picking up are the exact ones who are usually less than gentle with your girls. I'd have thought you'd be pleased to have them out of Tortuga for a bit - frees you up from icing busted lips and black eyes."

"They never tip well, either," she sighed in agreement.

"Wow," Theo snorted "Your charitable nature knows no bounds."

Ada shrugged, unbothered "Speaking of, I can't believe you didn't shag him."

"How is that speaking of in any way, shape, or form?" Theo scoffed, and then frowned "And how can you tell?"

"It's my job to be able to know these things with a single look."

"You're the next Derren Brown, then. That's impressive."

The brunette had long grown used to her apparently nonsensical remarks.

"When you came down, you were all shy. Blushing, even. Nobody's that shy when they've already seen it all - and no man's ever that soft with a woman after…after…"

"After he's been hard with her?" Theo asked drily.

"Exactly."

She snorted.

"You've known some shockingly bad men, then."

"You're not that naive, don't pretend to be now. What's going on there?"

"Ada, can I ask you a question?"

"Oh so it was a technical issue then - fear not, I can advise."

"D'you ever stop and think to yourself 'I might just be overstepping a wee bit here'? I'm just curious. "

Ada grinned "That's the beauty of my running this place, Dora - if people don't like it they can piss off."

"Yeah," she sighed "S'pose you can't say fairer than that."

It was then that her eighth reading of the night approached her table - Ada said her farewell with a squeeze of her shoulder. That in itself was less the friendly gesture that it appeared to be, and more a warning that a good and proper son of a bitch had just shown his face. Theo didn't need that particular warning this time, though. Ada's help had been a godsend in the beginning when she'd been finding her footing - it saved her from having to think entirely on her feet and glean who a person was right then and there as the reading progressed, but now that she'd been here a while she was able to recognise men based on their reputations. Sometimes, surprisingly, it paid off to eavesdrop on the shit-faced ramblings of pirates.

So, thanks to that, when the grizzled Mr Wilding approached her table, it took some amount of concerted effort to keep any intimidation from her face. The first rule of dealing with scumbags was pretending not to be bothered by the fact that they were scumbags - but he was a scumbag, even by Tortuga's standards. It wasn't even the brand that Theodora was comfortable in - the lovable, rough around the edges, morally grey but generally sound until given a reason not to be that was familiar enough thanks to characters from her upbringing to have her feeling at ease here. No, Mr Wilding was such a prick in a way that entirely lacked upsides that his crew had deposed him not long after she'd arrived here. He'd had a few business dealing here and there since, but had proven to be a deadly combination of delusional, incompetent, and nasty in every one. The first two she could use, but the third made her wary of doing so.

He took up the chair opposite her with no greeting, and practically threw a handful of coins at her like he was being forced to take part in this entire interaction in the first place. Theo pursed her lips, eyeing him coolly as she brought the coins towards her with a sweep of her hand - mainly so she could make sure that there were enough there, and that they were real.

"You wish for a reading, Mr Wilding?"

"No, I regularly pay women for the thrill of their conversation," he sneered.

Tilting her head, she bit back her response and instead emptied her pouch of runes onto the tabletop. The reading itself wasn't too unlike any other - if anything, the man's delusional and arrogant nature made it rather easy because as long as she was telling him what he wanted to hear, he would believe it despite however much he didn't trust her. So she spun him a yarn - about how he'd been unlucky in love as of late (his latest girlfriend had turned up dead not too long ago - probably by his hand), how his recent challenges were being posed to him only because the universe recognised his greatness, and how his perseverance would pay off in bucket-loads if he only kept trying…and looked for allies in places he might once have deemed unlikely.

He lost his sneer as she spoke, but didn't quite become happy - more just aloof than anything else, his chest puffing out as he nodded along with her words like he agreed with them, and was merely satisfied that somebody had finally wised up and seen the true way of things.

Once they were finished, she collected her runes back into their pouch, fully expecting him to get up and leave with as little ceremony as he'd arrived. Instead, he remained where he sat, fixing her with a withering stare.

"If you've another question I'll require further payment - I don't do two readings in one," she said after a beat of silence.

"I've no questions, witch, just a warning," he replied sternly "If that Commodore you're cozying up with catches wind of my affairs, I'll see to it that your throat ends up as red as your hair, you understand me?"

She imagined that threat sounded very impressive in his head. Rather than react, Theo blinked at him and then gave an exasperated sigh.

"Mr Wilding, these readings are confidential - but even if they weren't, and if Mr Norrington wasn't a former Commodore, I don't see why he'd be interested in your affairs. He hunted down infamous pirates. Your affairs, as they stand now, don't quite fit that bill. But you never know - heed the runes and you might make an enemy of him yet."

His lip curled as he stared her down, already weathered brow wrinkling further as he frowned at her. Theo returned his gaze evenly…but her hand curled around her knife beneath the table when he shifted and made to stand.

"And when I do, I'll slit his bastard throat, too," he punctuated his threat by spitting on the floor and kicking over his chair.

"I'll be sure to pass the message on," she said with her best customer service smile.

It wasn't a particularly good one. But it wasn't all bad - he pissed off, and she made a note of his name in her little black book, along with a mental note to avoid him if-and-when he did end up aboard the Pearl. That would be fun. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and turned her head towards the window. It was beginning to get dark. How long should she leave it before she took it upon herself to seek James out? She wasn't keen on the idea of doing so, not least because she now had to worry about Beckett's cronies sneaking up on her whenever she left the confines of Ada's tavern, but she also knew it would be very like James to get some daft idea in his head about buying his own room with coin he might not necessarily have because of ideas about honour and not allowing a woman to provide him with basic necessities.

She had finally resolved to seek him out once the candle stub on her table melted down completely when her resolution was wasted. At first, when he approached the table she'd assumed he was yet another customer, but as she made to open the pouch once more she looked up at him and was met with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah. So you don't want to know your fortune, then?" She asked sheepishly.

"On the contrary, I know it - it involves dinner with my favourite Irishwoman," he said drily.

"But she wasn't available so you're here to ask me to fill in?"

"Har-har."

Slipping the runes into the pocket of her coat, and then her book and coin purse into the inside pocket, she slipped out of her chair and fought back an amused smile as he offered her his arm. Taking it, she ignored any potential onlookers about as well as he did - but wasn't blind to how his shoulders relaxed just a little when they stepped out into the evening.

"I've spent the day making inquiries," he said without preamble.

His eyes scanned their surroundings near tirelessly as they walked, and with no shortage of suspicion at that, but Theo wasn't sure if that was because he didn't want to be overheard or if he was expecting another attacker to leap out of the shadows at any given moment.

"About what?"

"Concerning your attacker," he replied.

"Oh," she blinked "I wouldn't think many here would want to talk to you about that. Even if he wasn't one of theirs, you're…"

"Even less one of theirs than he was?"

"It would be a whole lot like snitching - in their books. Snitches get stitches."

"A truly charming sentiment."

"Sorry."

"Yes, how dare you suggest that I'm nothing like these fine men gathered here," he drawled as they side-stepped a couple of men embroiled in a brawl over god-knew-what "You're correct in your assessment, though. Those who recognised me refused to speak with me at all."

"Those who recognised you?" She echoed.

"Once the inch-thick layer of grime was removed, along with the uniform coat, and the wig that you love so dearly, there were a surprising number who had no idea who I was at all," he admitted "They were the ones from which I was able to glean what I have."

"Which was?"

There was a part of her - the tired, permanently worried and scared part that had dwelled more or less constantly within her since she'd first arrived in this world - that didn't want to know the answer. But she shoved it down and pretended it wasn't there, because not knowing wouldn't fix anything and ignorance would only be bliss for as long as it didn't get her bloody well killed.

"He was, apparently, a Mr John Smith."

"Oh, Jesus."

"Precisely," he agreed with a sigh "But the other facts I've been able to piece together can't be counterfeited quite so easily. He arrived on a merchant vessel that was here for only one night - the captain of said vessel was overheard in a tavern commenting on how strange it was that he'd been so insistent on a room with two beds, and a door that locked and bolted."

"I'm amazed I was to have a bed."

"Lord Beckett will be eager to find out whether the carrot or the stick is most effective where you are concerned."

"He'll be pissed off when he finds out it's neither."

"I would caution you against underestimating him if he's half as bad as you've told me," James replied seriously.

"I wouldn't say I'm underestimating him so much as furiously overestimating myself in hopes that it'll pay off somewhere along the way."

He gave a rueful huff of laughter "Well. I shan't fault you for that, based on what I've witnessed thus far."

She smiled softly and squeezed his arm.

"My point stands, though, that given what we know now, and the fact that he accosted you on the very day he arrived, there can truly be no pretense that it was a random incident - not an opportunist, not of no greater consequence."

"Well. I suppose it's good to know for sure," she sighed.

"Indeed. Although it does lead me to something I've been considering all day."

This point was one that James reached hesitantly, his words coming slowly now as he kept his gaze fixed in front of them rather than letting it trail back to her every so often. Theo said nothing, leaving him to make his point as he saw fit.

"If you say Beckett is bad news, then I find myself compelled to trust your judgement on the matter. However…" he paused, as though expecting an argument.

If she was being honest, she was fighting the urge to give him one, but she thought it was best to let him make his point and then respond to it rather than rushing in to disagree before he'd actually done so.

"…One may argue that unscrupulous means are necessary to combat the pirate problem, such is the monster that it has grown into as of late. Is it not at all possible that in this case, the ends justify the means?"

"Beckett doesn't want good beyond good business. Beckett wants power - by any means necessary. Trust me, the pirates are preferable to that slimy bastard."

The look James cast about them said exactly what he thought of that assessment.

"And…" he faltered and then sighed.

"And what?" She asked.

When she looked at him, she found his gaze still fixed firmly forward and his lips pursed.

"James, just say it," she sighed.

"And," he pressed "You're quite sure that your rapport with Sparrow isn't skewing your judgement in this regard?"

Theo sighed. Her knee-jerk reaction to that was annoyance, but it genuinely didn't have the feel of an accusation. As though to support that, he continued quickly.

"I'm not implying anything, you say there is nothing of that nature between yourself and Sparrow and I trust you, but there is at least friendship, and that may play a role in your thinking."

They were slowly but surely leaving the bulk of the town - the busy hub that buzzed constantly - in their wake, heading more towards the beach than any establishment the island boasted. Theo was too distracted by their conversation to question it. In any case, they'd come more than far enough for her to trust him not to take her to some secluded spot in order to murder her, so the matter wasn't a particularly pressing one.

"It's not all so black and white, though, James. You yourself have seen that - you let Jack go back then. You didn't like having him hanged anymore than me, or Will, or Elizabeth."

"And look at the price I paid for that," he pointed out flatly.

"For which you should blame the system, not the pirates."

"A grand notion, but my point still stands - if Beckett's unscrupulous nature means innocent people can travel the seas without fear, is it not worth it?"

"There's a certain level of unscrupulousness that can't be excused."

"So Sparrow's can but Beckett's cannot?" He fired back.

"Jack doesn't have any intention of killing the governor, the same can't be said for Beckett."

"I-" whatever response he'd prepared to what he'd thought she might say died there and then "What?"

"At some point in the future, Beckett will decide that Governor Swann has outlived his usefulness. He'll remedy that. Or have one of his men do it for him. That's who he is, James. People are tools to be dispensed of when they no longer serve any purpose."

When she turned to him again, his lips had thinned but his eyes were alert despite the way his face paled even in the dim light of the evening. An army man through and through, she should've known by now that he wasn't one to succumb to shock easily.

"When?" He asked finally.

"A long while yet - in the events that I know, at least. After your reinstatement. I don't know how, it isn't shown. We only find out when…when Elizabeth does. What matters now though is that you know that it's the sort of thing he's willing to do."

In the interest of complete and total honesty, it wasn't something she wanted to tell him. Not in her most selfish moments - the ones where she only wanted to keep him safe at whatever cost necessary, whether it fucked over every single other person on the planet or not. Whether it made him hate her in the end or not. But that wasn't who she was, and tolerating such a thing wasn't who he was, either. She'd always more or less known that if she told him the truth, and if she got him to hear the truth about who she was, she'd have to tell him about Governor Swann's fate at some point or another. He was James' friend, and even though she feared that telling him would send him hurtling straight into the action in order to prevent it, she just couldn't keep it from him. There would be no keeping him from the action just as there'd be no keeping her from it, she wasn't so naive as to kid herself otherwise, so the only thing keeping it from him would earn her was his distrust if-and-when he discovered the truth.

Even if she hadn't been obligated to use it as her trump card to get him to see how truly irredeemable Beckett was - for she also suspected she'd have to do so well before now, considering James' adoration for the traditional lawful good more often than not - she also knew she'd have to tell him regardless through sheer virtue of the fact that she had every intention of changing it. Governor Swann wasn't exactly her friend, but he was far from her enemy, and his daughter was her friend. If it were Elizabeth in her shoes, knowing that Theo's dad was going to die, and she didn't do anything about it? Theo would never forgive it. It was just shit that in this particular instance, she didn't know the specifics.

"I trust that since you're telling me, it's something you believe we can change?"

"We?" She echoed with a small, tired smile.

"Whatever you've found yourself entrenched in here, I'm by your side," he said frankly.

Oh, how she wanted to leap into his arms, hug him, and just thank him for bloody well existing. It was amazing how that one sentence could make her feel so much less alone in all of this, despite the things that she still couldn't tell him.

"Yeah. We can stop it. Hopefully," she replied "Just don't trust him."

"I shan't," he replied grimly.

"And…don't trust Jack either," she felt his gaze turn to her as she said that, apparently catching him off-guard.

"There's hardly any danger of that, Theodora," he snorted.

"I know that - I just…For the love of god, don't accept any offer to join his crew. He'd give you to Jones in a heartbeat if he could."

"I won't be left here when you leave with him," he warned.

"Of course not," she said quickly "I'll find a way to swindle you aboard, but it'll be on our terms instead of his."

"…If you say so."

Their conversation drew neatly to a close when they reached their apparent destination. Some way down the beach, the makings of a campfire, albeit one that had yet to be lit, a bottle of weak beer - for one might as well drink from the puddles in the streets as drink water in Tortuga - and two fairly sized silver bonefish waiting to be gutted and cleaned.

"It may not exactly be a feast of kings," James said slowly in response to her surprised blinking "But it's the only way I could conceive that we may eat in peace - without an audience, no less."

"It's perfect, James," she laughed, and she meant it, squeezing his arm before smiling up at him "Truly. The best first date I could've asked for. Now do you want me to start the fire, or should I clean the fish?"

There was just the slightest beat of silence before he chuckled quietly, for apparently she'd managed to catch him off guard with her question.

"The choice is yours. I'll do whichever you don't wish to - although I could do both. The fire won't take long."

"Then you can help me with the fish afterwards," she shrugged.

Letting go of his arm, she took up her knife and lowered herself down into the sand, taking up one of the fish when she was settled. James knelt beside the fire and began to work on getting it lit, but when she looked to him she caught him glancing up towards her every now and then, face caught between amusement and a warm sort of fondness.

"It wasn't my intention to bring you all the way out here so that you had to cook your own dinner," he said when she offered an amused smile.

"You can have this one then," she replied, slipping the knife into the fish "And you can make mine. Sound good?"

The smile stayed on his face as he managed to get a few sparks going, and she was pretending not to blush like a bloody schoolgirl at the affection in his eyes when they next met her own "I can find no reason to complain."

A/N: Just setting some things up, don't mind me. Jack should be back very soon!

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