A/N: It's been a long time coming, I know. No excuses.

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Hooks and lines were sent across to the Vajrayana's starboard side, and boards were laid between our bulwarks. A well-dressed young white man strode across one of the planks. He looked as confident as a rooster who found himself inside a hen house and was just about as tall.

He jumped down onto the deck and glanced around. "Does anyone speak English aboard the vessel?" he bit out in a clipped and impatient tone.

Kavi nudged me forward and I found myself looking down at the man. He was paunchy and pale which is a rarity for the seafaring sort. Somehow, I couldn't imagine the little man holding a line or mending a sail, so I took him to be the captain, if only in title.

"I do. What can we do for you?" I asked, keeping my usually swaggering speech a little more clipped. I felt the air stir beside me. The captain had joined me.

"You can surrender the ship and her contents so that we can be on our way quickly," the man returned, sizing each of us up in one glance. I repressed the sudden urge to shove him overboard.

"And, just who might you be to give us such orders?"

"Not that you are worth my breath, but you can call me Beckett. I am an admiral for the East India Trading Company. And, I am the man who will help you lighten this hulking load considerably," he gestured haughtily over his shoulder and his crew began to board us.

"Well, my good man, I must apologize if I don't see it that way," I replied. And while he merely sent me a withering glance, I drew my cutlass on him. And, before I could blink, his officers were on me.

"Don't try to get in my way. I am weary of the sea and wish to be at port soon," the short man tossed over his shoulder carelessly as he crossed one of the planks.

"Some admiral you are then, mate!" I called after him.

Without even sparing me a glance, he called back to the men who restrained me, "Kill him." And, with that, he strutted into the main cabin and slammed the door.

More angry at the slight than the worried over the prospect of death, I struggled against my captors. Years at sea, and the more recent months hard at work on deck had made me quite strong and I wrested from them easily.

I was now without a weapon as I backed up against the ship's port side. I glanced over the shoulder of one of Beckett's men advancing on me. Kavi was following him with a drawn sword. Behind the other, the captain had a length of rope. I grinned.

"Come now, gents, this is no way to greet a countrymen who's been without a common fellow to speak with in months. Perhaps your captain could use the help on board?"

The me looked at one another. The taller of the two halted and said, "Well, the cap'n did mention needing' some help."

"Yeah, but not from the likes of pirates," replied his sensible friend.

Kavi and the Indian captain took used the time I bought stalling to attack. And, as the rest of Beckett's crew saw two of their men felled, they dropped their task and took to arms. Since I was still without a weapon, I slipped through the quarreling bodies and slipped aboard the East India Trading Company's fine vessel.

Once on deck, I acted quickly. I barricaded the main cabin door with a heavy barrel that had been carelessly left out. Obviously, Beckett wasn't the most able admiral. I grinned and said aloud, "Well, I'm glad I found the opportunity to help someone less fortunate." I turned and whistled toward the Vajrayana. When no one looked up at my summons, I dumped the planks between our ships and released the lines. I called for Kavi once more, but to no avail. He was hacking away at any Englishman that fell into his path.

It was a difficult thing to pilot a large vessel on one's own. However, nothing was beyond my reach when I desired it, so I found myself doing quadruple duty as a captain, helmsman, deckhand, and watch.

Beckett never even bothered to try to venture out of his cabin. I assumed that he was quite used to not doing work. So, undisturbed, I steered the vessel to port. A rowed ashore alone, leaving the imperious young admiral to his own devices.

I snaked my way out of a confrontation with an Indian harbor master by feigning violent illness. It helped me also to push through the crowd into the bustling seaport.

It was as busy and unfamiliar a place as any port I'd been in. Though the motions resembled life as I'd known it, nothing could fully prepare me for the colors and smells of the Indian port. Coriander, saffron, and tamarind. Bold fuchsia, vivacious yellow, and eye-popping teal. They swirled around me in a way that washed out browns of a port in the Caribbean never had. In the Caribbean, the colors were all at sea. Here, the water was a slate color and the land held riches. I grinned.

Unsure of my direction and purpose, I dove into the place as though I belonged there. With my sun bronzed skin and dark looks, not many people gave me a second glance.

However, my anonymity didn't last into the day. I'd just sat myself down to some ill-gotten morsel of what I assumed to be chicken. The aroma was heavy but divine. I also snatched a bottle of something that smelled like coconuts but tasted more like very rich white rum. I was beginning to think the compass that Tia Dalma had "traded" me was a very wise mechanism when I heard someone call out in English from across the square, "There! That's him!"

As I dared to lift my gaze, hoping against hope that there was another man in the square who'd angered a haughty Englishman. Apparently, I was alone in that offense and two men in red coats seized me up and dragged my to my feet, successfully spilling my supper.

"Thanks, mates, I hadn't really planned on eating that," I muttered dryly. They remained silent. But, I received an answer from the man before me. Beckett.

"Be glad you've not been run through," he clipped out. I was surprised that he remained so calm. He struck me as the sort of man to pitch a fit. But, there'd be plenty of time for analysis later.

I clasped my hands together in apparent obeisance. "I am, sir. Quite pleased. Might I be so bold as to inquire why you've left me unscathed?" I threw a quick glance at one of my captors. He stared straight ahead.

"If you can behave yourself, I'll have them release you. If not, I have irons," he remarked, turning from me. The men dragged me along behind him.

"I think I can manage on my own," I began, eying the men's weapons furtively.

"We shall see," was his only reply. We marched on through the square, my stomach rumbling mournfully.

"So, where might we be going?" I called from behind him.

The short man stopped and turned abruptly. Apparently, my two friends had been expecting it, because they also stopped short, leaving me to practically run into Beckett. "Keep the questions to a minimum. And, by minimum, I do mean that if you ask any more questions of me, I shall muzzle you. And then, I will take great pleasure in killing you myself. Understand? Or, must I act it out for you?"

Rather than throwing a scathing retort back at him, I nodded. It was in my best interest if he thought I was a artless rube.

We quickened our pace and before long, arrived at a rather ostentatious manse. The house was a salmon color and white woodwork highlighted the colonnades that lined the veranda. It would not have looked out of place in London, save for the putrid color. I merely smirked as I was dragged up thirty wide stairs to the porch.

The door was opened from within. Beckett pushed through the door, barely taking in the staff nervously lined up in the hall. A tall, rail thin man approached him from the line and offered his a glass of ruby liquid.

"Master Becket, sir?" the man asked.

Apparently, that was all that needed said as Beckett replied "My study."

The goons that had dragged me through the street abruptly departed through the open door and Thin Man approached me warily. I have a feeling that if I had said "Boo," he would have melted into the floor. I didn't even bother.

He gestured for me to follow, so I did. The house was richly decorated. What it lacked in subtlety, it surely made up in tastelessness. As I moved down the wide hall, my footfalls echoing up the paneled walls, I watched a steady progressing of paintings to my left. Beckett as a young man, booted foot atop a fallen hart. Him as a young man astride a stallion. In formal dress. In casual dress. Beside a young woman. The man obviously liked to look at himself.

Finally, the man stopped and opened a door. He stood silently watching me. Sensing that no invitation was forthcoming, I showed myself in. To my surprise, Beckett was already waiting for me. I managed to hide my shocked expression, loitering just over the threshold with my arms folded expectantly.

"Please, come in. Brandy?" he offered the drink.

I eyed it speculatively. To my further surprise, the little man laughed. "Ah, you're a cautious man as well as resourceful one. A man after my own heart. You've my word that no harm will come to you of drinking what I offer."

I turned my questioning gaze upon him and accepted the drink, holding mum. He sat and gestured for me to do the same. I complied.

"I must admit, you had me fooled. I thought you were an unlucky simpleton at first. And, then of course, you managed to commandeer and sail my ship alone. At first, I was enraged, of course. But, then, I hoped to find you and make you a little, well, an offer."

"An offer, eh? Now, this is interesting. You interrupted my dinner and dragged me by force to your home, insulting me along the way, and now you want to chat?" I asked. I still hadn't tasted the drink, but Beckett hadn't commented.

"You didn't seem like the sort of man who'd want to make arrangements in the street," he returned, dryly.

When I didn't answer, he pressed on. "Well, I'd like for you to work for me. The East India Trading Company, really."

I arched my eyebrows at him, but didn't speak. He continued, "Anyone who is as excellent a sailor as yourself will do well. You can go far, I promise you."

I stood abruptly. The shorter man sat back in his seat, obviously startled. I did my best not to smirk at him as I moved to the sideboard and set my glass carefully on the tray. Beckett watched me, but made no move to stand or withhold me."

I traced the rim of my glass, letting it whine into the palpable silence. When the note subsided, I finally faced him and spoke, "The young woman in the hall portrait? Is she your wife?"

Beckett relaxed visibly, "Yes. Teresa."

I smiled at the man and tapped my lips as if in thought. "I'd like to have a little while longer to consider your offer. Perhaps over dinner? Since mine was so rudely interrupted." I kept my speech clipped and formal, reverting to the life I barely remembered anymore with more ease than I would have thought possible.

The shorter man nodded, "Of course. My apologies. Shall I give you time to, er, refresh?"

I merely nodded.

Beckett called out, "Marcus!" and the door swung open, revealing my thin tour guide once more. He looked at Beckett expectantly. "Take master, er," he trailed off and looked in my direction again.

"Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow," I provided.

Beckett's eyes widened almost imperceptibly and I couldn't restrain the grin that spread across my face.

"Show Captain Sparrow to one of the suites and draw him a bath."

"And quickly, Marcus," I added, following him out. "I'm starving."

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One bath and a fresh set of borrowed clothing later (apparently, Marcus and I shared an inseam), I found myself being shown into a drawing room outside of the dining hall. The room filled me with a sense of unease at the memory of my father and his wife, sitting at the fire, discussing my future as though I wasn't present.

Beckett sat, facing away from me toward the fire. A young blonde woman was seated across from him. I could just see her hair, framed by the loose tendrils that escaped the simple knot at the nape of her neck. Her profile was in the shadow, but I could see that she was delicately made with a fine, upturned nose and full lips. If she at all resembled her younger self from the portrait, I knew she would be stunning.

"But, Father, how will I act around him. If he is as filthy as you say," I heard the woman begin. Beckett noticed me first and cleared his throat. His daughter? I thought.

Beckett rose and approached the sideboard. "Sparrow? Would you care for a drink? I'm sure it couldn't hurt to dull you to my daughter's prattling," he noted, dryly, pouring two glasses before I had a chance to answer.

I joined him and took the glass as the shorter man sized me up. I knew I looked different. The shirt I wore was a little tight across my chest, so I left the topmost buttons open. The jacket was cut very snug, but it didn't fit me poorly. And, of course, I had left my hair as bejeweled as ever with the Remembrances, but it was freshly washed and shined blackly.

My own face had changed very much to me. I had only really seen my appearance in passing over the years, as there is little room for a looking glass among my effects. My cheekbones, always unusually prominent, stood out even more from my lean days aboard the Vajrayana. My dark eyes stood out against skin bare of any grime or the Kohl to which I had become accustomed. As a last minute decision, I trimmed my mustache and goatee neatly. Were it not for my hair, I probably could have passed for a gentleman.

I was uncomfortable at the inspection and relieved when he said nothing. His daughter, however, stared at me, unashamedly. I stared right back.

"Forgive me," Beckett began. "Captain Sparrow, my daughter Regina. Regina, Captain Jack Sparrow."

I bowed my head slightly as she stood to greet me. I took her hand and brought it to my lips, murmuring "Enchanté, mademoiselle."

I must have caught her as off guard as I suddenly felt myself, because she barely responded to my greeting. I hadn't spoken my native language in nearly ten years.

"Dinner is served," Marcos announced from the doorway to the dining room.

I offered Regina my arm and she took it wordlessly. I wanted to ask about Beckett's wife, but felt it would be inappropriate. I hadn't worried about being rude or impertinent in nearly as long.

During the first course, Beckett began once more to ask about his offer but Regina stopped him. "Please, father, no business at the dining table," she paused and then added sweetly, "The thought of you at sea unsettles me."

For the rest of the meal, we made polite conversation. Once, Regina tried to bait me with a question about the Caribbean. Her father silenced her with a glare. Obviously, the man had heard something of me to know that I came from the Caribbean.

It wasn't until after dinner that we actually talked more about his offer. Regina adjourned to the drawing room alone and we went to int the study.

"It's a peculiar offer, Beckett. You realize, of course, who I am."

Beckett faced the fireplace. After a beat, he gestured to the view from his window. I joined him at the portal and tried to see what he saw. "Out there is wealth to be had, Sparrow. A secure future. Your time is almost up as you're kind slowly fall to the pressure of companies like mine encroaching on the West. It will be only a matter of time before the Caribbean is on the trade route and where will that leave you?"

I smiled at the view of lush gardens with flowers and trees I couldn't begin to name. "Yes, but your life isn't for me."

He chuckled, "I actually thought so at first. But, I can see now that I was fooled again. You're as much a gentleman as I am."

"I don't know if that's a compliment, sir," I quipped back quietly.

I saw Beckett's reflection in the window grin. "Indeed. Equal parts piracy and propriety make a good businessman. So, you'll consider it? Sleep on it perhaps? I offer you my hospitality as long as it takes."

I nodded. As Beckett was about to snuff out a lamp when I asked about Teresa Beckett.

The shorter man cast his eyes downward before meeting mine. I guessed the answer before he answered.

"She passed away."

"I'm sorry," I murmured as I passed him. Beckett did not answer. I left him standing there, holding the lamp, gazing at the flame within.

"Captain Sparrow?" came a female voice from the shadows. I looked to my left as Regina's lithe form glided into a shaft of moonlight through the window. I smiled.

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