Author's note: Well, look here! New chapter's up. From now on I'll update on a weekly basis (I've got a slight head-start, but I've got a major - really major exam coming up, which does also conveniently provide the reason why I'm gonna update every week. Escapism - you know) Thanks for the reviews, you guys. Always nice to get a response, so don't be shy to drop me a few lines...

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"I'm sure you are not as foolish as to believe your newly acquired position doesn't come with any responsibilities," Lord Beckett stared unblinkingly at the flickering flames of the open fire-place in his private study. The warm shine reflected on his lifeless pupils.

"I'll do what is expected of me," James replied, straightening unconsciously.

"It's good to hear you know your place," the other man informed him and comfortably leant back in his leather armchair. A brief pause ensued, during which James motionlessly remained at his post next to the fireplace. He had refused to sit down. He found that standing up kept one more alert and he certainly needed to be in this conversation.

"I want Sparrow's head," Beckett informed him in an rather unfazed tone as if he was merely asking what time it was.

The other man's eyes narrowed to tiny slights at the mention of this name. "Consider it done," Norrington answered through clenched teeth. He certainly had no scruples when it came to that accursed pirate. "Though I highly doubt that he has been able to escape Davy Jones's wrath."

"How come?"

"He sold his soul in exchange for his ship. When I last saw him he was desperately trying to escape the kraken, but given his persistency I would suppose he even managed to survive that."

"If that be the case it will afford us the pleasure of ensuring his demise."

"Yes," maybe that was the only thing they could agree on.

"What about Turner and his fiancé? Do you think they survived the attack?"

"I suppose."

"You suppose?" Beckett chuckled humourlessly. "Well, never you mind. That can be quickly remedied. With Davy Jones's heart I will finally be able to cure this disease they call piracy," his eyes sparkled dangerously. "And you, my dear Admiral Norrington, will be my right hand. You will make sure everything goes as planned."

A shiver ran down James's back, when he heard the insane fervour in Lord Beckett's voice. He felt his conscience stir, but managed to contain both his unease as well as his moral doubts successfully – at least for the moment.

"We'll summon the Flying Dutchman. It will be my instrument to instil peace and order and get rid off those god forsaken pirates once and for all. They'll never even know what hit them," he clenched his fist and slammed it down on the bolstered armrest.

"You'll be going on board in three days," Beckett threw him a sarcastic glance, "Since it was you who brought me the heart, I find it rather befitting."

"Yes, sir," Norrington managed to get out after a heavy gulp. He knew the implications of this order all too well. It had been a mistake to assume that his life would simply return to the way it was before he had had that fateful encounter with Captain Jack Sparrow.

"May I ask permission to leave the room?" he suddenly felt the over-whelming need for air.

"Permission granted," Beckett dismissed him with a tired wave of his hand. His mouth twitched as he calmly watched the Admiral's flight.

James hastened out of the room and down the corridor towards the two-winged glass-door that let to the balcony of the first floor. He practically ripped open the door and stepped outside. The cool night air engulfed him immediately, but did little to ease his mind. His hands grabbed the rail as if for support, while he hastened to open the upper buttons of his shirt. It felt like he was choking. He tried to calm himself taking long and steady breaths, while he assessed the situation.

He had known all along that restoring his reputation would have come with a certain price, but he had never suspected that it would be this high. He had handed over the heart to Beckett and thereby the power to command Davy Jones. As soon as James would have boarded the ship, his life would be in the hands of a crew of undead monsters and their captain who knew neither compassion nor mercy. Naturally they would be compelled to obey Beckett's commands, but it wasn't as if he was needed to make sure they did. If they slit his throat or worse, made him a member of their cursed crew, it would be of little consequence to the grander scheme.

His hands tightened around the balustrade so that the knuckles protruded and turned white. He was having a hard time keeping his temper in check.

"A conversation with my brother does have that effect on most people," a female voice remarked from behind him.

After a long pause he finally decided to speak, not bothering to turn around "Oh, really," he said sarcastically.

"How long have you been there?"

"For quite some time, actually since dinner. It's my favourite place in the house," Josephine stepped next to him. "You can see the sea from out here."

He didn't care much for the sea at present. All he wanted was to be left alone.

"My brother tells me there was a warrant out on your head only a couple of days ago," she added conversationally.

"Then you should know that is very unwise of a young lady to be seen with an alleged criminal, though he may just have been granted pardon…Nevertheless he might still not be able to escape the gallows."

Unbeknownst to him, as he was still staring ahead, she smiled her mysterious smile again, only now it had a wistful note to it. "Even for me it's best never to turn my back on my brother," Josephine replied darkly. "It requires a lot of strength to always be on guard and this last couple of days have been positively exhausting. So you see, even the presence of an pardoned criminal," she said those words not without a certain irony in her voice, "isn't able to spook me anymore."

"What makes you think I merit such frankness?"

"Because I think you're the kind of man who can be trusted to keep a secret," even though he didn't look, he could feel her eyes on him.

"Miss Beckett, we barely know each other, so it's safely to say you hardly know what kind of man I am," there was a dark tone in his voice that indicated she was approaching a rather sensitive subject.

"True, but I'm still entitled to an educated guess," he could hear the smile in her voice. "After all you didn't tell him."

"That doesn't mean I condone your behaviour."

"Is it that incomprehensible to you?"

"It's just not proper for a young lady to be walking around dressed as a man," he threw her an exasperate glance. She was standing beside him. Her bare underarms rested casually on the stone balustrade. The night wind had loosened a couple of dark strains from her elaborate headdress, which were now floating lightly on the soft breeze.

"And it's also extremely dangerous," James hurried to add.

"You sound just like my mother," she said amusedly. "Once you will have spent more time in this house, you will come to understand my reasons."

"I highly doubt I ever will. I mean…how can you be so naïve! Have you actually never thought about what would happen if anyone ever found out, who you really are? Did it ever occur to you that you could be abducted and held a prisoner, only to afford some ruffian the possibility to extort a substantial amount of money from your family?" his indignation had made him forget his own worries. He continued appealing to her reason, hoping that he could convince her that her behaviour was not only improper, but also much too risky. "…and that's not the worst thing that could happen, mind you."

"Maybe I am naïve," she raised her chin challengingly. Her jaw clenched and gave her face very stern expression, "Maybe I am taking too many risks, but at least I won't have to ask myself whether I let an opportunity just pass by. I prefer living my life instead of watching others live theirs."

"Obviously you didn't understand a single word I was saying. You're a woman for Christ sakes!" he cried out as if that alone would explain everything.

"And a woman needs to be protected by a man, is that right?" he didn't see the trap that was lurking in the subtext of those words, so he stumbled right into it.

" Exactly," Norrington answered with an air of self-satisfied contentment. Apparently she had finally managed to grasp his point.

"Then I'm sure you won't make any objections to accompanying me tomorrow night." Josephine said innocently.

"I most certainly will not accompany you," James protested indignantly.

"What you will do or won't is between you and your conscience, Admiral. You'll still have some time to make up your mind about it till tomorrow evening," Josephine told him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, ignoring his refusal completely. Ere he could reply she had disappeared through the door.