A/N: This week I finished my Harry Potter fanfic, if that fandom takes your fancy - it's Draco Malfoy/Muggle!OC, and I'm pretty proud of it, if you have 300k words worth of time to spare. It sounds like a lot, but…uh, this fic will probably be longer.

On the whole "homeless" front, I have a viewing for a place on Saturday! Right now it's just about making good impressions on landlords, so fingers crossed that I manage to do so despite being the most socially awkward human on the face of the earth.

"Queen Achtland?" James tested out the name like that in itself was some sort of trick the next morning, his brow deeply furrowed.

"That's the one," she answered quietly.

She'd awoken a few hours later as dawn drew in, more on James than beside him, with no memories of exchanging any sort of farewell with her strange guardian angel.

"What do you know of her?"

"The stories don't say a lot. Just that no mortal men could satisfy her," the stories differed on whether that phrasing was specifically sexual or not, but that was one particular path she didn't want to venture down at that point "And then she fell in love with one of the Tuatha Dé Danann."

"The…?" He didn't even attempt to repeat it.

"Immortals. Gods, kind of? Sort of like angels but…not. It's complicated. But she crossed into their realm and became immortal so that she could be with him."

"And now she spends her time spreading the veritable gift of realm-hopping? It seems a touch too…benevolent. What else do the stories say of her?"

"Not a lot," she sighed with a shrug "Or if they did, I never heard them. She was picky, she fell deeply in love, and she…"

It was then that one detail did spring to mind that all of the stories shared. She took great delight in combing his long silken hair. Memories of the night of their reunion rushed back to her and Theo bit back a groan - Christ, she must've loved witnessing that. No wonder she seemed so permanently smug. Or maybe it was immortality that brought that about.

"She?" James prompted.

"She was an odd one," Theo finished with a sigh, not wanting to have what had been a nice moment ruined by any suspicion he might end up with that it had all been manipulated by a figure of Irish folklore "It was…unnerving and helpful all in one."

"A concept I'm more than familiar with," he said sourly.

Sliding from the bed, he stood and took up his coat, setting about getting ready for the day.

"Yeah, well," Theo chuckled…and then stopped when he didn't laugh along "Is something wrong?"

"I spent my night watching you intently to ensure that you still breathed - wondering if and when I should start pushing my fingers down your throat-" if there was ever a time for her to keep her snort of 'kinky' to herself, it was now and she managed it valiantly if only thanks to the complete lack of humour on his face "-to force that potential poison out of your system. After the first hour passed - slowly, I might add - I still could not relax, for the entire ordeal caused me to think."

Theo watched him, her brows knitting together in sheer sadness as he continued.

"If you're willing to do something like that with not even a glimmer of hesitation, what else might you be willing to do?"

"It wasn't poison, James. I knew it wasn't. Tia Dalma wouldn't do that."

"And Sparrow? If he'd lied about their origin?"

"Jack wouldn't either."

The snort he gave suggested he didn't agree, and so Theo added "He'd have nothing to gain from it, even if it was the sort of thing he'd do."

"My point still stands," he shook his head "If your actions last night didn't even register as a slight risk in your mind, it raises worrying questions in mine as to what does. I see the dread in your eyes at times when you consider the future, and given how fearless you prove to be at the worst of times, that sca-"

Theo pressed her lips together as he caught himself, and then changed his wording at the last moment "That concerns me."

"There's no room for fear - not for me," she pointed out.

"There is if it will keep you alive, Theodora!" He snapped in return "You are not a soldier."

"This time will make one of me yet," she muttered.

"Not if I have any say in it."

He was unhappy - that much was obvious for any idiot to see - and it wasn't the sort of unhappy that she could joke her way out of. That in itself was uncomfortable territory for Theo. Christ, this whole thing was uncomfortable territory for Theo as far as the strides in their relationship were concerned. She wasn't used to having to consult somebody when it came to, well, anything. She wasn't even particularly used to having somebody to consult. Especially not here. She muddled her way through, she made each judgement call as it came, and she congratulated herself heartily on not dying on the daily. James, it seemed, didn't have quite the same low measures for success that she did.

Was she supposed to sit and talk it through with him before she took them? Not so much in this time - there were a number of unlucky women in this year who had to defer to their husbands before they so much as coughed - but in general? Back home she never really had, but back home she'd never really cared much…and there was a bit of a difference between "I'm going out with the girls on Friday night" and "I'm going to dabble in drugs given to me by a notorious pirate via a sea-witch so I can communicate with figures from Irish folklore". Just a slight one.

"I didn't mean to worry you," she said finally "I'm sorry. I was so set on finding answers that I didn't really think of much else."

"It's…" he sighed and shook his head "Don't worry yourself over it. The lack of sleep doesn't agree with me."

It was an excuse if she'd ever heard one, considering he never seemed to stop back in Port Royal. But she also knew a conversation ender when she heard one, so she didn't push the matter, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed so she could put her boots on. She'd come back and change into fresh clothes later, for now there were more pressing matters.

"What duties does a ship's witch find herself carrying out?" James asked after a few moments of silence "You never mentioned what it was you did on this ship before you found yourself in Tortuga."

"It's a bit of a tightrope act," she sighed "I need to do enough to show that I'm pulling my weight and not getting an easy ride, while staying out of the way and out of sight of those who are particularly uneasy about having a witch aboard. I need to advise Jack to prove that I'm worth what I use by being here, but my advice can't appear too consequential to those aboard, lest I be seen as manipulating the captain with my…oh, I don't know, sorcery and feminine wiles."

That earned her a snort - but it was a begrudging one, with only the barest shred of humour.

"I do need to talk to him, though. I should go now."

Achtland's advice had come at the eleventh hour, but it was more guidance than she'd ever had on her current set of circumstances so far, and from somebody that had more authority on the matter than, well, anybody. Not acting on it would be stupid.

"Will he be awake at this time?"

"He's much more responsible than you'd think - or than he'd have anybody believe, for that matter."

"I wish I shared your faith in him," he sighed.

"I trust him as much as I can - and as much as I have to. Unfortunately the latter tends to outweigh the former, but he hasn't fucked me over yet. He's not going to like what I have to tell him, though, so that'll be fun."

"Bring a bottle of rum, then he'll forgive anything you have to say."

Theo huffed a laugh…but picked up the barely touched bottle from the table. If, by some strange turn of events, Jack didn't want it then she would certainly partake to get through their little impromptu meeting.

"All right, I'm going to go now. I'll see you later. Try not to kill any pirates while I'm gone, yeah?" She placed a hand on his arm, hovering between him and the door.

"I make no promises," he sighed "Old habits and all that."

It was still jarring - hearing him say things she'd already heard him say, although when he wasn't him.

"I won't ask what it is you need to discuss with him, either, seeing as I'm assuming you can't tell me."

Theo smiled - but it was strained by awkwardness and sadness "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he sighed.

"Yeah, well…if Achtland ever appears in your dreams you could always give her a right earful then."

The downward turn of his lips told her that he likely would do just that.

Theodora left for her meeting with Sparrow, and James did what he could to keep his mind from it by attending to his newfound duties aboard the ship. Those duties in themselves were entirely to be expected - general scrubbing, toiling, drudgery. It irked him, but he did not show it (and didn't allow it to bother him too much at all) through sheer virtue of the fact that it was supposed to bother him. If he allowed it to annoy him, it meant Sparrow won. No doubt he took great satisfaction in knowing that a former commodore was scrubbing his deck like a common landsman, but it would be the only satisfaction he would get at James' expense. While his mood didn't brighten much over the course of the morning, he took solace at least in the fact that he was handling his duties with more grace than the likes of Mr Wilding, who had done nothing but gripe and groan ever since the rag had been pressed into his hand.

In any case, he had much to occupy his mind with. Just as he'd gotten used to the idea of falling through time (if one was ever truly able to get used to the idea of falling through time being a possibility at all), now pagan figures from Irish folklore were joining the mix - and not only were they joining the mix, they were major players. It was more absurd than James had the patience for. And then, worst of all, there was Sparrow. Theodora had disappeared into his quarters with her face so deliberately expressionless that he knew her calm could not be genuine. She'd been in there for two hours now, and James found himself growing uneasy as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky and the heat became nearly intolerable. What could possibly take two hours to discuss? Strategies of war had been devised in less time. It had taken her half of that to tell him the full truth of who she was and where she hailed from. Perhaps. That particular night was a bit of a blur, but it certainly hadn't taken two hours. Hard work was oft a thing he found meditative, but he was entirely unable to view it as such now when every ten minutes he found himself glancing towards the doors of Sparrow's quarters, wondering what talks were taking place inside, whether they were going well, and what they might mean.

His arms burned from exertion and his knees ached from kneeling on the wooden deck before long, and sweat was all but pelting from his brow by the time he took note of the conversation taking place behind him…primarily because of the name on Mr Wilding's lips. Having long abandoned the task that had been appointed to him, he seemed to have decided that entertaining his fellow new arrivals was a better use of his time.

"Theodora, Theodora!" the vile man was groaning and grunting over and over.

Dropping the rag, James stood and turned. It was something that Wilding and his two new friends noticed quickly - like because they'd been waiting for it. James said nothing, instead opting to stare them down, but he could feel his lip curling and his jaw clenching all the same,

"Oh, don't mind us, friend - just getting our crewmates up to speed on what I heard from your lady's quarters last night," he snickered.

"Theodora is no business of yours. Nor is whatever you claim to have heard," James said flatly.

"I reckon I could make her my business," the man replied lightly "See, I couldn't help but notice that yours was the only voice I heard. Trouble pleasing her, was it? Some would call that ungentlemanly."

"Hold your tongue," James warned, his hand hovering at the hilt of his sword.

Wilding's eyes flickered towards the gesture, but he didn't seem bothered by it - more evidence of his stupidity.

"I bet I could get a noise or two out of her," the man offered a yellow-toothed grin "A friendly wager, eh? Ten shillings says I can make the witch scream."

"Out of pleasure or pain?" one of his new friends snickered.

"Eh, a scream's a scream," Wilding shrugged "S'pose we'll find out tonight."

James' hand fell away from his sword as he sighed. And then he started swinging his fists instead.

Jack stared at Theo. Theo returned his stare evenly. It had been an absolutely shite morning - one filled with so much discussion and back-and-forth that her throat was now hoarse and she had an incredibly sharp migraine burrowing its way through her skull like the world's most hellish knitting needle. She'd have half a mind to uncork the bottle of rum she'd brought with her and start gulping from it herself, were it not now in Jack's hand. It was rather unlikely that he was in a sharing mood. It felt like she'd been in here for days - and like this little staring contest had gone on for hours. God, she missed paracetamol.

Finally, Jack's mouth opened and he made to speak - but whatever he was about to say was cut short by shouts and cries from outside.

"Jones?" Theo guessed doubtfully as he glared at the door.

"Given that I've yet to give them a clear heading, that would be rather impressive, wouldn't it?" he grumbled.

Taking up his hat from his desk, he put it on as he stood before making for the door. Theo gave him a healthy head start, and then she followed with a sigh, ready to see what fresh wave of bullshit the idiots she'd recruited were bringing down upon them now. The daylight was blinding when they stepped out into it - Jack's quarters were akin to an opium den at the best of times and the day had turned from a dull morning into a scorching midday since she'd knocked on his door. Blinking against it, Theo squinted as she moved, following the blurry outline of Jack while her eyes adjusted. Once they had, she almost wished that they hadn't. James had Mr Wilding crowded against the ship's rail, one hand twisted in the collar of his shirt to keep him still while the other drove into its face over and over. That in itself wouldn't have bothered her too much, were it not for Jack's already grim mood - something he reminded her of with a venomous look.

Another one of the hundred-and-something souls she'd recruited was trying in vain to pull James away, earning a sharp elbow in the stomach for his troubles before he returned to his task. Taking that as her cue, Theo darted forward and grabbed James by the arm - and found herself dodging another elbow for her troubles.

"James!" she snapped.

That, thankfully, got his attention and he finally stopped and let go. Wilding sagged to the deck, spitting blood.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Jack demanded - every ounce the fearsome Captain Sparrow, none of the charming and eccentric drunkard to be seen.

"We had a disagreement, Captain," James ground out, his fists clenched by his side.

"Over what?"

"Fucking witch," Wilding spat - quite literally, again.

Theo's eyes fluttered shut, if only to avoid the glare she knew that would earn her from Jack. His eyes had the distinct quality of appearing totally black when he was angry - and his true scorn was all the more weighty for how seldom it was seen.

"You're quite the popular woman, love," Jack said - and though it had the sound of a joke, the anger there was steel-clad.

When she opened her eyes again, she found James looking between her and Jack, understanding quickly dawning on his face. Whether it was thanks to Jack's warning the previous night, or Jack's pre-existing foul temper towards her thanks to their little chat, it came entirely too late.

"Mr Wilding was threatening to-"

"Enough," Jack growled "I will not tolerate fighting on my ship, over a woman or anything else, savvy? Mr Wilding, have your nose set by the ship's physician, and then you can muck out the goats."

It would be impressive if he managed either feat, given that he was struggling to get his feet beneath him. Jack didn't wait for him to leave before he turned his attention to James, who pursed his lips and drew himself up to his full height.

"And you," Jack continued, nostrils flaring.

He allowed the silence to hang for a few moments, broken up only by the wet sound of Wilding's breathing thanks to the blood streaming from his nose.

"Miss Byrne," Jack said finally.

"Yes, Captain?" she asked calmly.

"You'll receive no food rations today."

It took great effort not to sigh audibly, but she managed it - mostly because it helped her avoid blackening Jack's mood further, if that was even possible.

"Aye, Captain."

"Have you lost your mind?" James demanded.

"No rum, either," Jack added, his eyes remaining fixed on the man.

"Yes, sir."

"This is preposte-"

"Another word, Commodore, and I'll limit her water, too," Jack threatened.

James' mouth snapped shut, but if looks could kill, Jack's debt with Jones would have been squared there and then.

"Good," Jack replied grimly, pulling his compass from his pocket and leaving without any great farewell.

They watched him go, and only once he was up on the quarterdeck and quite out of earshot did James guide her away from the still mostly-prone form of Wilding to the other side of the deck.

"So…why won't I be eating today?" she asked finally with a sigh.

"You will. You'll take my rations," James said.

"If you think he won't be watching you like a hawk all day to make sure you don't do just that, you don't know him at all. Best just to go with it and get it over with or else we'll make things worse," she waved a hand.

The headache was not improving, and when she added the fury on James' face with the rankour of her captain, she was ready to declare it a day of bad moods all round. What next? Was Elizabeth going to seek her out, slap her across the face and call her a bitch?

"I defend your honour and you're punished for it? Remind me again how it is that you so heartily insist that Sparrow is good."

That wasn't something she was willing to get into. In part because it was something they'd simply never agree on, and in part because - blatant pettiness aside - it was a smart move on Jack's part. Whether he meant it or not, he'd shut down a potential budding problem. Wilding, the instigator, had been punished, and he had punished James (the aggressor) by punishing her - who no doubt many of the men on the ship viewed as the source of the problem.

"My honour?" she asked instead, unsure whether she wanted to be exasperated or amused.

James lips thinned and his eyes turned to his reddened knuckles as he flexed his hand. Theo knew his stubbornness well enough to know he wouldn't be giving her an explanation - and that, given all the explanations she couldn't offer him, she didn't have much room to demand one.

"He's punishing me because of the conversation I just had with him," she disagreed tiredly, partially because it was true, but mostly to try to lift James' mood "He just can't do it directly, so he's doing it like this. If you hadn't offered up a good excuse, he'd have just found a stupid one."

"The man is an ass, Theodora. Any bad he does is for his own gain, and any good is incidental at best. You must see that. Why do you defend him?" James asked flatly.

"Because he's better than Beckett," Theo said.

It was the only argument she suspected he'd hear at this point. He didn't seem warmed by it at all.

A/N: James has been very understanding so far, and I stand by that, but it has its limits because a passive wee doormat our hero is not, and those limits aren't helped by Jack's presence.

Just a quick note on my capitalisation – I know you're not meant to capitalise after a question mark/exclamation point etc. if it's part of dialogue (e.g. "What time is it?" he asked vs "What is it?" He asked – with the first being correct and the second being incorrect), but it's something my tablet does automatically when I write on it and am I fuck going back through it all after the fact to correct and un-capitalise all of it. Happily, my laptop does not do it automatically. So, uh, you can tell what I wrote on my tablet and what I wrote on my laptop based on if the capitalisation is correct or not. It's minor, it's dumb, people probably don't care, but it irks me and I feel the need to reassure that I'm not stupid. I mean, not in this instance anyway. Lazy? Yes. Stupid? Eh. Debatable.