"Admiral I think believe that this would perhaps be the best strategy…" The officer to James' left said, pointing the small figurines of ships he had just arranged on the map. James looked down to the map and nodded before his clear azure gaze raised to see what Lord Beckett thought of the Idea. Beckett smirked slowly, no doubt his mind was churning with figures and ways to stab each individual involved in the back. James, though thoroughly disgusted had his mind completely involved in his work, well, until a page taped on his shoulder and muttered something in his ear. James stood from his seat, Beckett eyed him curiously.

"Excuse me Gentlemen…" he nodded to the officers. "M'lord." He nodded to Beckett then left the room, all the while, Beckett's eyes followed him. James walked down the hallway to find Morgan, in utter rage, though emotion aside she looked quite…civilized, she had on a powder blue dress of the latest fashion.

"Your sister is absolutely mad!" She shrieked. James clamped a hand over her mouth and looked around before pulling her into a small, empty room. Once inside he removed his tricorn and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What did she do?"

"We are apparently engaged!" What? James' hand dropped and he looked up to the woman like she was delusional.

"W-What?"

"Yes!"

"I should have a talk with her-"

"Too Late! Your dear sister already announced it to half of Bloody Port Royal and the rest will know by tomorrow!" James flinched at the curse word but understood her frustration. His sister was ridiculous.

"This is …madness… I shouldn't have asked her for help."

"You asked that madwoman for help?!?" Morgan exclaimed, James flinched yet again.

"My sister is not mad…just….trying to cut ten years from my life." He said with distress, running a hand down the side of his face.

"What are we going to do James?" He arched a brow at the loose use of his name. She shrunk back. "Sorry…She just kept using it."

"I guess we will just have to go along with this…Tonight we'll have a long talk…at least figure out some details of this so called 'engagement'." Morgan nodded and sighed. "Now you should go find wherever you left my sister and keep appearances…" She pouted. "Please." There was a scoff from the woman and James watched her walk out, she sent him one last glance over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. There was a strange familiarity in those icy blue eyes of hers, but James had the feeling if he knew the connection, he might not like it. James sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face. "I'm going to throw Anne in the mad house one of these days for the ideas she comes up with.

"So you were four when you broke your leg? And you detest white wine?" Morgan said in question, James nodded with a confirmation, he was slumped back in his seat, leaning on one arm of the chair with his elbow, his chin resting on it. His eyes however were alive with interest. He sighed.

"And Yet, I only know your preferences…what of your childhood?" Morgan's eyes shifted to the fire, staring into it's warm glow that was the only light in the study.

"I grew up on a ship with my father, he was the Captain…" James raised a brow.

"What was the name?" Morgan was quiet for a moment.

"Le Hollandais Vole." James tilted his head and the flawless pronunciation of the French words.

"What does that mean?" Morgan shrugged.

"I could not tell you." She said softly, there was something the way she said it that caused the hairs on the back of James' neck to stand.

"How long until you wound up here?"

"Well I was on that ship until I was 17…."

"And you are how old?" Morgan blushed softly, a coy smirk on her lips.

"Admiral! You know it's impolite to ask a lasses' age!"

"But I need to know!" Morgan smirked, leaning foreword towards him.

"Well, how old do you think I look?" James paused, this answer could get him slapped, but luckily for him, she looked young.

"Twenty…a young twenty." He said with some hesitation, for a moment her eyes were unreadable before she leaned back in her chair, apparently the answer was acceptable.

"Then twenty I'll be!"

"You want me to lie?"

"James, dear, as far as you are concerned, I am twenty, I've not told you my real age so if you don't know the truth therefore, you cannot lie. You can only tell what you think is the truth…savvy?" James straightened up in his chair, that word was all to familiar.

"You don't happened to be related to a one Captain Jack Sparrow do you?" Morgan started laughing hysterically, it quite started James.

"Me? Related to him! HA! That man is so twisted and blooming wonky in the head it's hilarious. Plus I'm much to be old to be his daughter or of any relation to him!" She calmed down and settled back into her chair. "So James, dear…how did we meet?" There was something about how she said his name, and 'dear', something about how her eyes flickered when she looked at him, that made him feel, attraction, his mind dwelled on that for a moment longer before looking to her and shrugging."

"I honestly cannot begin to come up with some tale, but since you seem to be so good at bending the truth I would think that one such as yourself, milady would already have weaved a tale."

"A tale…like a mermaid's tale about two lovers who were torn apart by duty, society and their families' bitterness. The girl's heart was stolen and the man tried so desperately to get it back…" She had a faraway look in her eyes even though they were fixed on James, he cleared his throat and she flinched, suddenly aware of herself and smoothing her dress, smiling. "I guess I just read too many stories as a child."

"Quite." James said curtly. Morgan frowned but it disappeared quickly.

"How about just before the storm that got your fleet your ship made berth in a small port on another Island, and I had come to see it but accidentally fell in. You being the gentleman that you are, saved me. We fell in love and you asked for my hand. But with your fleet being destroyed and that brief moment as a privateer you couldn't send for me until now?" James stared at her, his mouth hanging open for a moment. Where did she manage to come up with such things? But it was believable.

"And why didn't anyone know about this before?"

"You were planning to surprise your mother." James' expression molded to one of disbelief.

"How do you come up with these tales?" Morgan smirked and leaned in, taking James by the cravat and pulling him close and whispering like a child.

" Secretly, I think I'm a mermaid…because they are the greatest story weavers…." James almost believed her for a moment, after all, he had seen curses, the living dead, walking skeletons, and fish people. But the playful smile on Morgan's lips told him otherwise, she was just telling more tales.

"Alright then…I hope this works.