Gah, this be my revenge on Calypso. That scene in the brig just…it showed Calypso's…shallowness! So here's Bree's reaction to all of this, as if it had happened while all the Bravy angst was happening. I know all the timing doesn't add up, and my story doesn't follow any of the AWE storylines, but…let's just pretend.

"Bree, I want ye to go to the Pearl."

"What?"

"Ye heard me. The Pearl. I don't like ye bein' here with all this goin' on."

Bree looked offended, "Ye don't think I can handle this?"

Jones closed his claw over her arm, "I don't want anythin' to happen to ye, Miss Bree. Ye're a female, an' these men have been at sea for who knows how long. An' that Mercer fellow…I don't want ye crossin' 'im anymore. Ye're too rebellious for yer own good, Bree. Go to the Pearl. Stay with them until this is all over."

Bree tried to protest, but it was no use. Jones wouldn't speak any longer.

Bree, resigned to the idea of having to run from trouble, obeyed orders. She went to the railing, looking out towards the island in the distance. Then, closing her eyes, she stepped forward, her body seeming to fade into the night.

Bree found herself bumping into a large barrel. She wriggled past it, wondering where she had ended up. She was in the brig of the Black Pearl.

Why in Hellfire did Jones send her here? Was it because he knew she was friends with Sparrow and would be safe here? And why should he care?

Part o' the ship, part o' the crew my eye…I shouldn't have to obey 'im…but I did.

And what was she supposed to do now? Simply walk up and announce her presence? Who knew what had happened up on deck. Power was constantly changing hands, everyone was crossing everyone else…she wanted no part in it.

I'll just stay down here then…nothin' else to do.

And she did nothing. For a whole bloody day.

Bree was dozing behind the barrel when she heard voices. Someone was coming into the brig. Positioning herself so that she couldn't be seen but was able to get a clear view, Bree stayed to watch.

Two pirates, one sporting a wooden eye, were herding a woman towards the cell. She was a wild looking woman, somewhat disheveled but dignified in a way. She looked like some sort of witch, with strange markings on her face and distant eyes.

"'Ere ye go, Missus Fish," one of the men said, pushing her into the cell and slamming the door behind her. They left, their voices fading until there was complete silence once again.

Bree didn't know whether to make her presence known or to stay put. Best not risk it. She waited again.

How long she sat there, looking in at the cell, Bree never knew. It was only when the woman began winding up a metal object that she became interested.

The woman continued to wind up the crank on the metal piece, and then stopped. A small tinkling melody began to play, and Bree knew it at once.

No…no, it can't be…

Jones' song!

Bree's hand went instantly to the pouch she carried in her jerkin. Inside was the music box that belonged to her captain, which she had stolen from his cabin.

What is she doing with another one?

The woman sat looking at the music box tenderly, letting it play. Then, towards the end of the haunting tune, she slowly closed the lid, and the music cut off.

Bree tried to flatten the hairs on the back of her neck, but they were soon standing on end again as the tune started again. This time much closer to her.

Bree clutched at the pouch, her mouth opening in a silent scream of shock. How was it playing? How?

But Bree had no time to wonder. For she saw, in the far corner of the brig, the outline of broad shoulders as a figure came through to the cell.

Jones!

The woman went to the bars, her face showing tenderness. Bree watched, fascinated, as she spoke in a soft voice, her heavy islander accent evident, "My sweet…you come for me…"

Bree looked to Jones, saw his face. His eyes were set in stone.

His voice, when he spoke, was strangely thick, as if clogged, "You were expecting me."

The woman clasped the bars, staring up into Jones' face, "It has been torture, trapped in dis single form…cut off from de sea, from all dat I love…from you."

Bree's eyes went wide. No…surely no…

Calypso?

She saw Jones' face tensing, as if struggling to master emotion. He drew closer to the bars, his voice tense with restrained hurt, "Ten years I devoted to the duty ye charged to me…ten years, I looked after those who died at sea." The hurt thickened, and Bree felt a twinge in her heart. "And finally, when we could be together again…ye weren't there."

He paused, and asked in a voice low like thunder across gathering storm clouds, "Why weren't ye there?"

The woman, obviously Calypso, was not meeting his eyes. She answered in a softer voice, "Tis my nature…Would you love me if I was anyting but what I am?"

Bree felt her knuckles grip at the barrel rim at this answer. What…what kind of answer was that?

It's her nature? To what? Break his heart? Betray him? How…how could she say that?

Jones response was delayed, but his voice was quivering with emotion, "I do…not…love ye."

Calypso met his eyes, seemingly hurt, "Many tings ye were, Davy Jones…but never cruel. You have corrupted your purpose, an' so yourself." She suddenly reached forward, her hand going up behind Jones' tentacle beard and pressing his chest. Jones' tentacles shied away, as if her hand was a burning brand. He panted heavily, confusion in his face.

Bree's eyes widened. She could see him now…Davy Jones, as a man. What he had once been. Bree bit her lip, anger coursing through her. How could this woman truly blame Jones for all this? It was her fault!

Calypso drew her hand away, continuing to speak as Jones turned back to his cursed self, "You hid away what always should have been mine."

Bree couldn't stand it anymore. Hid away? It was still him! Did it mean she wouldn't accept him now?

These lies, these wicked, wicked lies!

Calypso and Jones both were taken aback as the barrel in the corner went rolling sideways with a hefty crash as a voice, strong and filled with murderous anger, snarled out, "What should be yours? Why? So ye can do what ye did before?"

Calypso stepped back in her cell, and Jones stepped forward towards the figure that stepped out of the shadows. His eyes widened as he saw the young girl, her teeth bared and claws out. Anger was evident in her fiery blue eyes.

"Bree!"

Calypso's eyes snapped to Jones, and her voice, suddenly losing it's tenderness, spoke harshly, "Who is she?"

Bree snarled, going up to the bars and poking her face right up by Calypso's, showing her teeth, "I'm a loyal crewmember, an' I've a duty to serve my captain!"

Hooking her claws around the bars, Bree growled, "Tell me, Calypso…if ye can be excused from not bein' there because it's yer nature…can't Jones be excused from the wrongs he's done? It's just his nature!"

Calypso shied away slightly, but spoke to Jones again, "Who is dis girl?" Her voice was demanding.

Jones didn't look at either of them, simply speaking in a low tone, "Bree…" It was almost a request.

"Dis girl is a crewmember?"

Jones didn't meet Calypso's eyes.

"Davy Jones…now I know ya're cruel…" Calypso sounded hurt, "I thought you loved me!"

Jones still didn't raise his head, only speaking in that same low tone, "I do not love ye…"

Bree growled, "I s'pose it's also yer nature to be a two faced, traitorous, vain hunk of dog's fle-"

Jones grabbed Bree's collar with his claw and drew her close, hissing in her ear, "That's enough!"

Calypso looked furious, looking at the girl with hatred in her eyes. Jones saw the anger in Calypso's eyes. Fear flashed through him. Surely she wouldn't try to hurt Bree?

"I warn ye…if ye try anythin' against this girl-"

Calypso glared at him, "Davy Jones, I thought you belonged to me!"

Jones could feel Bree struggling in his grasp. He crushed her against himself, knowing that these two wild spirits would kill each other if he didn't separate them.

Backing up towards the corner of the brig, Jones cast one last look at Calypso, his pale blue eyes like glass and he answered the declaration of her wrongs with a question.

"Why weren't ye there?"

Calypso drew in a sharp breath, and found herself looking at a blank wall. The captain and the wild crewgirl were both gone.

Bree stood before Jones in his cabin, head down, eyes closed, waiting for the hatred that was about to be vented on her.

Jones looked at the girl, not sure how to deal with her. She looked so…crestfallen, so spent. As if she had been battling with an old adversary.

"I swear, girl…ye're a rebel in everything."

Bree didn't look up as she answered, "I was just followin' orders."

"I don't recall askin' ye to fight my battles."

Bree looked up finally, her eyes swimming with unexplained tears, "I don't remember ye sayin' I couldn't, either. Ye weren't doin' so well by yerself, anyway."

Jones stared at the girl, thoroughly confused. Tears were spilling over her eyelids, and pain was evident in her scarred face. Her lips trembled, and she at last broke the gaze, head going down again.

Jones felt pity stab him. He reached forward, tipping her chin.

"Bree…this matter doesn't concern ye. A lover's quarrel is more dangerous than the deadliest weapon. It's not yer fight."

Bree broke his grip, a sob breaking free suddenly.

I can't do it, Captain! I can't do it!

She didn't think she'd ever be able to.