A/N: This story is dedicated to the reviewers. Without you all, this thing would have died halfway through.

Epilogue

The sun was setting on another empty day. Rachel was pacing a quiet cliff just outside Brimstone, the wind whipping at her skirts and the long grass. Behind her was a graveyard, and the closest grave markers were mere wood. One had ROB crudely carved into it - Rachel's handiwork.

She paused to gaze to the horizon, brow wrinkled. She had taken to pacing in the evening and was afraid that her father would soon notice. But she couldn't help herself, not when she saw Jack Sparrow's dark eyes glazed with death. Even worse, Lorrie's.

Before a sigh could escape her, a call rang out behind her. "Miss!" She turned and saw a plainly dressed man, middle-aged, his grizzled face suggesting he might be a dock worker. She warily let him approach when she saw the folded paper in his hand.

"For you," he held out the paper, "from a mutual friend."

The paper was sealed in blood red wax. Deeply imprinted was a flourished L.

"Th-thank you." Heart speeding, Rachel took it and watched the man stride away. She gazed at the seal for a moment, then ripped the paper open with shaking hands, breath unsteady. Ravenously, her eyes fastened on the beautifully scrawled handwriting:

Rachel,

I write you from Kingston. In mere hours we will set sail for England. I will miss this vibrant, wonderful part of the world. Be glad you live here.

I wanted to thank you for your help with my baggage; without your help, I would have been forced to linger in a dangerous situation. You will be happy to know that every piece of baggage has been successfully tended to.

I wonder if you may help me again in the future, as I have many friends in many places and would be happy to add you to the top of my list. You showed great courage and resourcefulness. Never lose that. You will find an address at the very bottom of this letter. I hope that we may communicate again soon.

-Lorrie

P.S. JS wishes for me to relay this message to you: "If it isn't too much trouble, pull Sir Furry's tail for me. Hard. Really, really hard."

Next to the message was a neatly drawn sparrow flying before a blazing sun.

Rachel clutched the letter to her heart as her joyful laughter washed over the Rob's grave, surging upward in expanding ripples until it seemed to touch the stars beginning to flash like diamonds in the deepening blue of a peaceful, contented, savvy night.

Finis!

(If anything is confusing, please tell me!) ;)

Do Jack and Lorrie have a history? What was Jack talking about in Chapter 6 when he hinted he had dressed up like a debutante and mingled with London's high society? Was it hilarious? Stay tuned for a hopeful oneshot!