Authoress' Notes: Hi again. :) Sorry for not updating sooner. I've been prepping for school, which actually started today. 'Twas very hectic I assure you, and I'm very happy to be home doing something I enjoy. So, after the appearance of Will in the last vignette I'm taking this story arc in a different direction than I had intended. I'm not sure if we'll be seeing more of Will physically, but be assured his presence will be felt. Thank you to everyone who reviewed for the last few vignettes. – hands Snape plushies to christyfiction, Willofthewisp, Darky, Nurr, PD, SilverRose, & Ammy –

All characters © Disney

The First Night Alone

Nearly a month had passed since the bar incident before Elizabeth came to the assumption that Will had left Port Royal and would therefore not be around for me to get into scrapes with. This signaled the end of my captivity in our home and at the fort, both of which I had been confined to under the close watch of Elizabeth. Even then, I was only allowed out considering the special occasion: my good friend, Andrew Gillette, kept away at sea for six months was newly returned home, and we had much to discuss.

Elizabeth, who had been in an almost jovial mood these past weeks, had the good grace to see me off though it was in a most inappropriate fashion.

Pulling on my boots, I call up the stairs to Elizabeth as I pass them on my way toward the door, "I'm leaving now!"

I wait a second with my hand on the door handle, and when she does not answer I step outside and into the carriage already waiting for me.

"James!" came Elizabeth's voice from above.

Confused, I look upward, and shielding my eyes from the morning sun, gaze upon Elizabeth who is standing upon our balcony in naught but her dressing gown. The footman holding the carriage door open behind me clears his throat as I give an exasperated sigh.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?"

She puts her hands on her hips. "I'm seeing you off, and then I plan on getting dressed. If you don't mind."

"Really, I don't," I call back.

She opens her mouth to send me a quick-witted retort and then chooses to close her mouth. I can't tell if she is amused or angry with me, so I turn to leave.

"Wait a minute, I'm not done with you, sir," she calls to my retreating back.

I turn to face her again and put on what I hope looks like a mock scowl. "Yes, what is it?"

"I just want to let you know that I've got errands to run in town today, and am planning on seeing Mrs. Parton later. I should be back before dark."

"Right then," I say, tipping my hat, "I shall see you this evening, Mrs. Norrington."

"Yes, I suppose you shall, Commodore" she replies with a wave before disappearing back inside.

--

I enter the pub as inconspicuously as I can and find Andrew, already seated at a table in the corner, sipping at a pint of ale.

"Not going to throw anyone a punch, are you?" he asks teasingly.

"Oh, shut up," I grumble, "It wasn't funny at the time you know."

Andrew stops mid-laugh and gives me a serious look. "No, it wasn't. You're right."

Not meaning to ruin the mood, I order up a pint for myself and ask after Andrew's time at sea.

"To be honest, James," he begins, "It was bloody awful. Six months at sea is the longest I've been away, and it didn't help matters that I'd left Rachel home alone expectin' our first child."

"And how is Rachel?"

"She's just grand. Little George was born just two weeks before I came home, which was a lovely surprise. She's keepin' busy with feeding him and playing with him. Motherhood suits her well."

"And what about you and fatherhood?" I ask with a sly smile.

It takes a moment for Andrew to respond. "I suppose it suits me just as well, though I hardly get to see the poor boy. Rachel keeps him all to herself most days. Her reasoning is that I'll have plenty of time to be with him when he's older and doesn't wish to be mollycoddled anymore."

I laugh at Rachel's assertion as Andrew shrugs and downs more ale.

"What of you and Elizabeth?"

Now it's my turn to shrug. "The same as usual I would say. Not much better, but certainly not worse."

Andrew senses my discomfort and doesn't press the subject further as silence falls between us.

Suddenly, he leans forward, his eyes darting to either side before speaking in a hoarse whisper, "Be careful next time you're on duty, James," he says.

I incline my ear to hear better as he continues under his breath, "The East India Trading Company's been hiring pirates to do their dirty work. We came in contact with about a dozen or so ships, all of 'em EITC, but some of which were flying pirate colours. I can't count the number of times we were almost ambushed."

Stunned, I sit in silence gaping at Andrew who stares back from over the rim of his mug. Could Will be employed by the EITC? Is that why he'd come back? A knot catches in my throat at the thought, and I swallow hard.

"What's the purpose behind attacking the Royal Navy with hired pirates?" I finally manage to ask.

Andrew shakes his head. "I've no idea. It makes no sense for the East India Company to be attacking us, as they are an English company. Mark me, something suspicious is going on, and I don't like the look of it."

All I can do is nod in agreement, and swallow the worry bubbling up in my throat.

--

After a long visit at Andrew's to see Rachel and George followed by a few hours at the fort I head home expecting supper to be on the table with Elizabeth already seated, waiting impatiently.

When I enter the dining room I am surprised to see the table set only for one. As Betsy pours tea I inquire after Elizabeth.

"She said she'd be back before dark, and that's a few hours yet. No point in worrying, sir," she replies a little to cheerfully for my taste.

I nod and proceed to eat alone for the first time in a year. I had never realised how truly lonely it felt to be the only one in such a great room. Without Elizabeth's bustling dresses and soft chatter it all feels much too immense.

I spend that evening pacing our bedroom and watching the sun sink in the sky as I strain vainly to hear a knock on the door or a carriage on the gravel drive.

Dark falls, and awash with anxiety, I organize the household into a search party. I stand watch from our balcony and watch tiny pinpricks of lanterns disappear into the shadows of the starless night.

"It's just too dark, sir," proclaims Thomas sadly from down below, "We'd never be able to see her if she couldn't call back to us."

My stomach lurches horribly at the thought of Elizabeth lying on the ground somewhere hurt or in pain and unable to cry for help. Regaining my composure I respond, "We'll continue our search tomorrow then."

Thomas says nothing in response and I can tell he is not optimistic.

--

The night is a difficult one, and I hardly sleep more than a couple of hours. It feels as though I am missing half of myself in that vast empty bed.

Sleep deprived and heavy-hearted I awake the next morning with the intention of visiting Mrs. Parton as soon as I can. After a more thorough search of the grounds I ride alone to the Parton's home at the edge of town.

Mrs. Parton herself answers the door with a look of mild surprise on her face.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Commodore? Is something the matter?"

Hat in hand, I make no move to enter the house but reply courteously instead, "I cannot bring myself to intrude upon your hospitality, Mrs. Parton. However, I do have a question to ask of you – Did you see Elizabeth yesterday?"

"Yes, I did," she replies. "She was here for about an hour or so before leaving. She said she'd be meeting someone at the docks."

My heart skips a beat. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be.

"Did she say who it was that she was meeting?"

I hold my breath, waiting for a reply; a confirmation of what I know must be true.

"No, sir. She didn't say, and I didn't think it my place to ask. Anyway, I thought it was you she was speaking of."

I let out my breath in a rush and jam my hat on my head again.

"Thank you very much for your time, Mrs. Parton. Have a good day."

Tipping my hat, I turn to leave as the puzzled old woman slips back inside her house.

With renewed determination I ride swiftly toward the harbour. There is only one man on my mind now; one man responsible for my missing wife.

William Turner.

Authoress' Notes: I hope you enjoyed that. It was my first attempt at a cliff-hanger, so we'll see how that comes across for all of you. Don't forget to review!