AN: Okay, here it is! The one-shot that I told all of you about. It takes place a few months before the story. I hope all of you like it! This is basically just a filler chapter for until I can finish writing the next chapter.

P.S. I will respond to all reviews in the next chapter of DCD.

Demon Called Deception (One-shot)

She watched him from a distance, her mismatched eyes following his every move. She watched as he walked from table to table, talking to each of the different table's inhabitants in a low tone. She brought the large mug of rum that she had been nursing for the past two hours to her lips, taking a swig out of it and continued to stare at him from over the rim of the mug.

"Find somethin' interestin', eh, Cap'n?" a gruff voice said in front of her.

Captain Emory Wyatt looked up at the average-sized man as he stepped up to her, impeding her view of the man she had been following with her eyes. "Not really, Mr. Conway, just enjoying the quiet."

Conway turned around slightly, taking in the raucous noise surrounding him. Men argued around him, their voices blending in with the other loud noises and bar brawls that were prominent in the El Pirata y El Perico. Women talked loudly, their voices laden with the drink as they sat on the bar tenant's laps, their arms wrapped lazily around the men's necks. Conway turned back around to look down at his captain, a grin widening on his grizzled face. "If you say so, lass."

One corner of Emory's lip curled up in a smile as she took another swig of her drink. She gestured at the chair in front of her, "Sit, Mr. Conway, share a drink."

The hair on the back of her neck bristled, causing her to look behind her. A long haired man sat a few tables behind her, his tri-corned hat resting lazily on his head. His dark eyes gazed into hers, seemingly measuring her soul. He tipped his hat at her, a small smile gracing his lips, a flash of gold greeting her eyes. The man looked familiar to her, but Emory knew that she had never met him before. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she stared at him for a moment more, and then turned back to face her friend.

Conway nodded silently and sat down completely unaware that she had turned her attention away from him, motioning to a light haired bar maid. Minutes later, the woman brought a mug of rum to him, a suggestive smile on her face. He shook his head slowly, turning his attention back to his captain. The woman walked away, a small pout finding its way to her round face. Emory's eyes flicked past him, scanning the room once again for the dark haired man that she had been watching, but he had disappeared from her sight. She sighed, pushing a strand of her red-black hair behind her ear.

"What is it, lass?"

Emory's eyes flicked back to Conway. His green eyes held concern in them, concern at what, she didn't know. "Nothin'," she replied, another grin developing on her face. "What about you? I thought you would've jumped at a chance to have some fun the first night of your shore leave."

Conway shrugged slightly. "Still got three nights left, lass, no need ta rush it. 'Sides, I'd rather spend the night talkin' with me captain."

"I second that motion," a light, female voice said from their right. Emory and Conway looked up to find a tall, brown haired woman standing next to their table, a mug of rum in her hand. The woman's white shirt hung open to mid-chest, the strings on the flaps tied loosely. She wore a long sword at her waist and Emory could vaguely make out a belt wrapped around her right leg, full of small throwing daggers. The woman sat down heavily, sighing into her mug. "The men in this place are so boring."

Emory laughed. "So glad to see that yer enjoyin' yer holiday, Destiny."

Destiny waved her hand in the air, the mug of rum splashing about. "It's not to say that I'm not enjoying myself, Captain, it's just that we need to get some more exciting men. The men here are only drunken louts who have nothing on their minds but cheap women and rum."

Emory laughed again. "Like yer any different, lass," she paused, her eyes narrowing. "Except for perhaps the whole 'cheap women' thing."

Destiny shook her head, taking another drink from her mug. "You are such a bitch," she replied, staring up into her captain's eyes. Emory's one light eye brightened as a smile broke out over her face.

"I appreciate that, lass, really I do. But perhaps you should be nice to yer captain unless you wish for her to make you swab the deck for the rest of yer natural born life," she answered, her black eye growing darker.

Destiny smiled as she caught the look in her captain's eyes. Emory was the only person that she had ever known whose eyes were so oddly colored. One of her eyes was of a bright gold, the other a dark black. She could always see what mood her captain was in when her eyes changed colors. Destiny could tell when Emory was angry because her black eye grew as dark as the deepest fathom in the ocean. When happy, or excited, her gold eye brightened until it was an almost pale yellow.

"Ah, Captain, I was just joking, you know that," Destiny replied, staring Emory directly in her eyes.

Emory merely stared at her over the mug of rum that she had just placed at her lips. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, showing that she was smiling slightly to herself. She lowered her mug again as a familiar shadow crossed her line of sight. Her head jerked to her left, her eyes once again tracing the tavern to find the man that she had been watching earlier that evening. Moments later, she caught sight of him.

Emory's eyes narrowed slightly, her mouth turning down in a frown. She pushed the mug away from herself and stood up slowly, pushing her chair away from the small wooden table. Her crew looked up at her, confused expressions on their faces. She glanced down at them, allowing a fake smile to cross her face. "I think I'll turn in now mates, long day ahead of me tomorrow," she said in answer to their questioning looks.

"What're ya gonna do, raid Tortuga?" Conway asked sarcastically, glaring down into his empty mug of rum.

Emory laughed and pushed her half-empty mug toward him. Conway offered her a lopsided grin in return. "I'll see you two in the morning if yer on the ship when I rise," she said, turning her back on them and losing herself among the crowd of drunken men and women, her eyes once again searching the tavern for the dark haired man.

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Emory walked down the darkened Tortuga street, her eyes keeping track of the man that walked ahead of her. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him avoid a group of men and women in the street, and then duck under an awning in an old decrepit building. Emory ducked into an alleyway across from the building that he had entered, her eyes staring hard at the door, waiting for him to leave the old building.

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Emory Wyatt woke slowly, a sharp pain echoing in her side. She sat up in her bed, her eyes squeezed shut. Her hand flew to her side, clutching the small wound that she bore. A pair of rough fingers gripped her shoulder as she clutched the coarse sheets of her bed. "Take it easy, lass," a gruff voice whispered in her ear.

She sucked in a deep breath, fighting back the sharp pain. "Tristan?" she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Conway snorted derisively. "In the brig, where 'e belongs, Cap'n."

Emory sucked in a shuddering breath. "I need ta see 'im, need ta talk ta 'im."

Conway snorted again. "I don' think ya need ta even think about 'im, 'e doesn't even deserve ta be alive."

"There has ta be a reason, Mr. Conway. I need ta find out why he did this. I need ta find out why he would. . ." she replied, swinging her legs slowly over the edge of her bed.

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Emory's eyes trailed after the dark figure as he exited the old building. He glanced up, his eyes glaring into the shadows covering the street. Her heart leapt slightly as she thought that he had seen her, but then she let out the small puff of breath that she had been holding when he turned away from her and walked away, once again blending into the rowdy crowd.

Emory waited for a moment, and then exited the alleyway, following him at a safe distance. She watched as he dodged a pair of brawling men, both drunk and oblivious to the world around them. He stopped for a moment, talking to an old man and then once again started his walk through the darkened streets. She continued to follow him, staring only at him, ignoring the rest of the world around her.

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Emory walked slowly down the wooden steps to the small brig of her ship, the Silent Whisper. A pair of pirates, twin brothers, guarded the small caged-in cell. They glanced up at her as she hobbled down, Conway helping her with his arm around her waist. "Cap'n," they said in unison, inclining their heads to her slightly.

Emory gave a weak smile. "'m all right, mates. Now, I need a moment with our prisoner."

The pirates looked over at her, and then at Conway, their eyes holding a question that they didn't dare ask. Conway nodded slowly, sitting Emory down on a large barrel of rum in front of the cell. Beckoning to the two younger men, he exited the small deck, climbing back up the stairs, the brothers following close behind him.

She sat for a moment, simply staring at the male form sitting across from her, his grey eyes staring back up at her. Emory watched him, watched as he shifted his position under her gaze, seemingly not moved by the anger radiating from her eyes.

"Are you just going to sit there and glare, Emory?" the man said softly.

"You have lost the privilege to call me by my name. From here on out, you will call me captain."

The man smirked. "You'll have to excuse me, Captain, I forget my manners. Now, is there something that you needed?"

Emory was silent for a moment. "I need to know why. Why you would do something like this."

"It was nothing personal, Captain, I assure you. It was strictly business."

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The hairs on the back of Emory's neck bristled. She turned her head slightly to glance behind her. The old man that she had noticed previously was staring at her back, his old, pale green eyes boring into her. Her eyes locked onto his for a moment. I know who you are, his eyes seemed to say.

Emory's eyes narrowed slightly as she turned back around to face the man that she had been following. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, noticing that the streets had become considerably darker as they made their way deeper into the dangerous streets of Tortuga. Light from the torches along the street seemed to be swallowed by the deepening shadows.

Suddenly, a slight shiver ran down her spine. Something wasn't right here. They were heading in too deep.

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"Believe me, Tristan, it was personal. You led me to believe . . . you let me think that. . . God Tristan, you betrayed me!"

Tristan rolled his eyes slowly, sighing. "I never swore allegiance to you Captain and I never led you to believe anything."

"You told me . . . you said to me. . ."

Tristan laughed harshly, his face becoming a cold mask. "Do you believe everything someone tells you, Captain? You are an even bigger fool than I hoped."

Emory's eyes hardened, both growing darker. "Perhaps I was a fool to believe you, then, but you were the fool to attack me," she said angrily. "On my ship no less, surrounded by my crew. Did you think you could get away with it?"

"And what do you plan to do with me now that you've captured me? Keep me locked in your brig until I die?"

Emory raised her chin slightly, glaring down at him from her seat on the barrel. "I plan to kill you in the most painful way imaginable, and then maybe feed your lifeless corpse to the sharks, if they'll eat you."

Tristan smirked, his eyes growing distant. "Do you think you could? After all, you did say the same things to me, and I'm pretty sure that you meant them."

"Betrayal is the worst thing you could do to a pirate, Tristan. I assure you, I can kill you."

"You aren't on this whole 'Hell hath no fury' thing are you? You don't frighten me, Captain. I know your secrets, your weaknesses. Your threats mean nothing to me."

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Emory stopped in her tracks as the crowd around them continued to thin until there were only a few pockets of drunken people standing around them. Her eyes scanned the small crowd, taking in the few men and women who actually cared to look over at her. Her hand wrapped lightly around the handle of her sword, preparing for anything, or anyone, that tried to attack her.

The people who had actually glanced up at her looked back down and continued whatever business that they had been doing previously. One man started to walk toward her slowly, a leer evident on his face. Emory shook her head, her eyes darkening dangerously. She lifted the blade slightly out of its sheath, clenching the handle in her hand, warning him that she would use it if he came near. The smirk left the man's face as he stepped back into the dark corner he had appeared from.

Emory turned her attention back to the man ahead of her. He had seemed to slow his pace, as if he were waiting for her to catch him, as if he knew she was there. Her hand went to the area of the small scar that hid beneath her black shirt, a shiver once again running down her spine. Something was definitely not right.

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Emory turned over in her sleep, her eyes tightening as she pulled at the small stitches in her wound. A loud banging on her cabin door pulled her out of her dreamless sleep. "Come in," she called out, her voice clogged with sleep.

The door opened quickly to reveal Conway's tanned face. "Cap'n," he started. "Cap'n, he's gone."

Emory bolted upright, grimacing as she pulled her wound once again. "What do ya mean he's gone, Mr. Conway? How could he have escaped?"

Conway shrugged, making his way to his captain's side to help her out of her bed. "Don't know, lass. He knocked Gibbins and Myrney out somehow and grabbed their keys. Got off the ship and into the port before any of us knew what had happened. I've got Launch and Bolt out looking fer 'im. They'll search all o' Tortuga until they find 'im."

Emory shook her head slowly. "They won't find 'im Mr. Conway. He'll be long gone by now."

"We should still try lass."

Emory shrugged slightly, looking down at her hands. "Whatever ya wish, mate. But when next I see 'im, I will kill 'im."

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The shadows darkened as she left the second street that they had gone down. Emory's eyes scanned these shadows, searching for any signs of an attack. Her fingers brushed against the handle of her sword again, waiting for the man in front of her to turn around and look at her. The crowd around them thinned out further until there was no one left, no man, woman, or animal hid in the darkness to leap out at her.

The last light from a single torch flickered above her, causing her to look up into the dark sky suddenly. The sound of footsteps ahead of her stopped, forcing Emory to stop as well. Her eyes glanced ahead of her at the still figure that stood in front of her. Her hand gripped the hilt tighter, her other hand reaching for the pistol that hung on the weapons belt that was slung across her chest.

Emory noticed no movement from the man. He didn't even reach for any of the many weapons that she knew he had hidden among his clothes. Her patience wearing thin, she pulled out her pistol, aiming it at him. "Turn around," she said, her voice taking on an impatient tone. "I know who you are, so just turn around."

"If you know who I am, then why should I turn around?" the man asked, and Emory could hear amusement laced in his smooth voice.

"Just to be sure. After all, I did swear to kill you the next time I saw you. I would hate to kill an innocent man," she replied, her eyes darkening to match the dark street that they stood on.

The man lifted his arms slowly, allowing them to hover in mid-air next to his face. He turned around slowly, a small grin hovering over his lips. Emory's eyes widened slightly and then narrowed as anger crept into her gaze. "Tristan," she whispered.

"The one and only, Emory."

Emory glared over at him, raising her pistol higher to where it aimed right between his eyes. "I never gave you permission to call me that again. Or did you forget our conversation from two years ago?"

Tristan laughed. "Oh no, I remember it all too well. I also seem to remember you telling me that you would feed my lifeless corpse to the sharks," he paused slightly, the grin on his face widening, "if they would eat me."

A cruel smirk graced her lips. "I seem to recall that. And I recall you running away before I could make due on my threat."

Tristan's hand touched his chest lightly, feigning injured pride. "You wound me with your words, Captain. You better than anyone knows that I never run away."

"Then you'll just stand still and be a good boy for me? You won't run away and make me chase you?" Emory asked, her smirk growing wider, her head tilting to the side. "I still plan on killing you."

"Good luck on that, my dear," he answered, and reaching into his white shirt, quickly pulled out three small throwing daggers. The weapons flew through the air at her, aiming directly for her heart.

Emory dodged the daggers easily, cocking her pistol as she ducked behind the large barrel that stood just to her right. She placed her back to the barrel and leaned over the side to look around the wood. Tristan stood exactly where he had been, glaring at the spot where she was hiding. Emory jumped to her feet quickly aiming her pistol again and firing. The bullet whizzed past Tristan as he ducked to avoid being hit.

Emory ducked behind the barrel again, trying to load her weapon as fast as she could. "You really should watch your back more often, Captain," a voice said above her.

Emory looked up, gazing straight into Tristan's flashing eyes, his own pistol aimed directly above her head. "Then shoot," she whispered, anger radiating out of her own eyes. Tristan's eyes narrowed slightly as an odd look crossed his face, an emotion that Emory could not recognize. A sudden shot rang out in the empty street, causing Tristan to jump backwards, his arm getting grazed by the bullet as he landed in a slight crouch.

"I wouldn't take that shot if I were you, lad," a gruff voice called out.

Emory looked up, her gaze streaking down the dark street. Conway stood just in front of her, his pistol drawn and smoking. Destiny stood just to his left, her sword resting in one of her small hands and her other hand full of throwing daggers. Destiny's eyes were hard as she glared over at her captain and the man standing behind her.

Tristan straightened up slowly, once again a small grin evident on his shadowed face. In one quick movement, he once again reached into his vest and withdrew a long dagger. Before he could attack, Emory lunged at him, brandishing her sword and attacking him in one swift movement. Tristan unsheathed his sword at the same time that she swung her own blade, blocking her blow.

He pushed against her, making her step away from him. The two swords rang against each other, echoing in the still night. Emory swung at him again, her hard eyes watching as he parried her blow, attacking with one of his own. Tristan swung at her again, causing her to step back. She parried his swing, sidestepping quickly to avoid his next attack.

A sharp sting in her arm caused Emory to look down at the small gash that had just opened up from Tristan's attack with his dagger. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she swung at him again, knocking his dagger from his hand. The small weapon flew from his hand, landing in the dust a few feet from where they fought. She kept her eyes locked on his, staring into his grey eyes. The two dueled against each other, neither one holding back their blows, neither one willing to give in.

Tristan pushed against her shoulder, causing her to twist around, her blade sparking against his. He attacked again, swinging his sword at her back, but Emory stepped away, just barely missing the sharp tip of his blade. She turned back around, once again swinging her sword at her opponent. Tristan once again parried her blow, blocking her weapon from striking him.

Emory looked up at him, noticing the faint change in his eyes once again. His eyes seemed softer now then they had looked only moments ago. Before Emory could pull her sword away from his and attack again, Tristan pulled her to him with his free arm, their swords locked together just below their chins. He pulled her up to him, pressing his lips roughly to hers in a brief emotion-filled kiss.

Emory's eyes widened, but before she could do anything, Tristan kicked her away from him, pushing her forcefully a few feet backward and causing her to fall on her back in front of the two members of her crew. A dagger whizzed above her face, heading straight for the retreating back of Tristan as he turned and started to run off into the darkened night. She watched as the weapon sailed past him, hitting the wall of a nearby building as he ran quickly away from the three pirates. The dagger stuck in the wall, the only evidence left of the man that had previously been standing there.

Emory continued to stare into the empty space where Tristan had disappeared moments earlier. A pair of hands grabbed hold of her arms, pulling her to her feet. "We should go after 'im, Cap'n. 'E can't have gone far."

Emory shook her head slowly, the fingers of her right hand touching her lips lightly. "No, Mr. Conway. He won't be found until he wants to be. We probably won't see him for awhile."

"And if you do see him?" Destiny asked, sheathing her blade and making her way to retrieve the dagger that she had thrown.

A smirk crossed Emory's face. "We'll just have to see. If it comes to that, we'll just have to see."