She pauses, turns halfway back around. "To find Uncle. And Jo. And a drink." She pauses, apparently thinking that through, then adds, "Decidedly not in that order. Goodbye, Sparrow."

And with that she is gone, and he is abruptly left wondering what exactly has just happened, anyway?

Jo, as it happens, is nowhere to be found, which is curious but not worrying. Jack, however, is exactly where Emily knew he would be, which makes the acquiring of a drink fairly easy as well.

"You know, Uncle," she says as she sits herself down across from him with two mugs, one of which she hands off to him, "one of these days you're going to have to tell me just how you got that ship out of the bottle. I am still dying to know."

He accepts the mug, a smile tugging at his lips. "I still say ye wouldn't believe me if I told ye."

"And I still say there's not much I wouldn't be willing to believe considering whose daughter I am."

"How many times 'ave we 'ad this conversation?"

"I think I've lost count." She laughs. "It's nice to see you, Uncle."

"And you, Captain." He smiles in return. Captain. He's made a point of calling her that every now and then ever since learning the Queen was hers, teasing, but not mocking in the way Alex says it. This is how they start out their conversations whenever they see each other now, and the familiarity is comforting. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Do I need a reason to want to see you?"

"No, but I can always tell when ye 'ave one."

"You know me too well." She sighs, taking a drink from her mug.

"Watched ye grow right up, I did, I ought to know ye well. So what is it?"

"I – that is, we – the Queen was paid a rather interesting visit."

"Oh?" His brows furrow just slightly.

She nods. "And this most interesting visitor," and she realizes that she can't quite get out the word 'mother' any longer , "might have mentioned something about having come to see you, as well. Hoping to find, she said, a certain coveted and supposedly broken compass."

Realization dawns and he nods. "Ah." He studies her a bit. "And when was this, then?"

"Some days ago now."

"I see. My apologies. I do not, in truth, have said supposedly broken compass, as I told our interesting visitor. I suppose she took that to mean I'd given it to someone else for the keeping, though I can't fathom why she would assume that someone to be you."

"Well, I don't know why she assumed so either, particularly since it was only after her visit that I found out I do have it." Emily shakes her head. "The point is, I couldn't be sure of when exactly she'd come to talk to you, so I only wanted to be sure you're alright."

"Me? I'm always alright, dearie. Incidentally, it's you I'm worried about now." He goes to drink from his own mug, but stops at the last minute, looking back to her. "Now, 'old on. How did you come to acquire me compass?"

At this, Emily bursts into laughter. "Ask Mr. Gibbs. Jo's the one who had it but didn't actually know what it was. Apparently it's been tucked away in her cabin, safe and sound, for months now."

"Fancy that. And 'ere I thought it was good and lost this time. Well, it's all yers now, then, maybe the blasted thing'll actually work for ye."

"Oh, it works." She remembers opening the thing up out of curiosity one morning after another night spent with Alex. It had, of course, been pointing straight to him. That, she thought, could prove to be quite the problem if she ever wanted to find anything else. "Well enough to be quite useless." She adds, drinking from her mug again, trying to hide her blush.

But of course, her Uncle notices anyway. "Now that look, dearie, I know."

"What look?" She asks innocently.

"The look," he says, smiling but quite serious, "of a woman in love."

Now she scoffs. "Oh, Uncle."

"What? S'true, isnnit?"

"It's true I've a man now, but I'm not sure 'love' is the right word." She remembers Alex and Ruby, and drinks again.

"Well, the point still stands. Are ye goin to tell me who t'is?"

She pauses, trying to think of how exactly to go about telling him, staring down into her drink. "Did I mention," she says finally, airily, "Alex is sailing with me again? We put in at Shipwreck again, long story that, and he just happened to be there, so…" She dares to lift her eyes back up to meet her Uncle's.

To her relief, he's grinning the trouble grin he'd handed down to Alex. "I knew it was me boy. No one else can make ye smile quite like that."

"Oh, and he most certainly is his father's son." She's not smiling now.

Her uncle softens. "Dare I ask – what's it 'e's done?"

She pauses, and he watches with raised eyebrows as she drains her mug, then holds it up. "That, I think, might take another to explain."

Alex really does end up going with Ruby, and they do end up in her room at the place she works – but only because she's supposed to be working, so it's the only way she can get a few moments with him without being hassled. They are friends, so all they do, however, is talk. He is not his father. He hadn't been looking for that when he'd met Ruby; he'd seen her being pulled into a dark alley by a very large and very drunk man and had saved her from something not even a lady of the night should have to endure. He had spent quite a few nights with her since, but that had come after. He is not his father. (He is, however, to be fair, very much a young man with a woman always on his mind – always one very magnificent woman in particular, but he doesn't suppose that Emily will feel any better about it if he tells her he was only ever thinking of her, no matter what he was doing.)

Ruby, eventually, to his surprise, shoos him out and tells him to go try and get the girl that's actually his. He tries to argue that he's not sure he can call Emily 'his' – Peg certainly won't have herself belonging to anyone, save her goddess – but Ruby just gives him a knowing grin and insists he go.

So, go he does. Expecting Emily is probably still visiting with his father, he winds his way past the rowdy drunks in the Faithful Bride, finally finding Jack off in a corner with one of his own lady friends on his arm. "Ah, Alex!" He greets. "Was wondering when you'd turn up!"

"Dad." He replies. "Ye 'aven't, by chance, seen a certain feisty lady captain anywhere about? I seem to 'ave lost mine."

"Indeed I 'ave. Funny, though, sounded to me more like she'd been tryin to lose you." His father's tone is just on the border of being scolding.

Alex chooses to ignore it. "Well, in that case, she has done a most wonderful job, as I 'aven't a clue where she is if not 'ere."

"You might be better off leavin 'er be for tonight, boy, she seemed in a bit of a mood when she left. With good reason, apparently." Still a touch scolding. The woman that has been attempting to regain Jack's attention seems to sense some tension growing, as she murmurs something to the older Sparrow before scurrying away.

Alex's eyes narrow. "I s'ppose she told ye about – about earlier, then? Honestly, Dad, I don't believe it's your business."

His father holds his hands up in surrender. "I've no room to be scoldin ye on this, true enough. I only mean to say ye've got somethin special with 'er. Somethin' not every man finds." He meets Alex's eyes, all too serious. "Best be careful not to waste it."

Alex scowls. "If it is wasted," he pauses, sighs, "the fault will be 'ers, not mine."

His father's brows furrow. "The way she'd talked one would 'ave thought…"

Alex sits himself down across from his father, leaning in a bit. "Dad… I tried to – to do right by 'er, in all the ways I knew 'ow. She was 'aveing none of it. It seems as though she doesn't want respectable, she wants a –"

Realization dawns on his father's face. "A pirate. Just like 'er mum in ways, that girl. I thought it sounded odd, I still remember the lad who couldn't stop talkin of the only girl he seemed to know existed. So all that with this Ruby was a clever little show, then?"

Alex fights back a blush. He won't be scolded by Jack, not on this off all things. Instead he just gives his father a roguish grin.

Jack scowls. "Well, I've no 'elp for ye then, boy."

"I don't think I was asking for it, Dad." Alex pauses as something else comes to mind. "Mind, that's not all I'd be needing 'elp with. Did she 'appen to mention anythin about the visions she's been 'aving?"

"Visions? No, although she did mention a particularly strange visitor. I believe she said she was stayin at that inn she favors if ye want to talk to 'er, I wish ye luck. I've a feeling ye'll need it."

Alex shakes his head and stands, heading out of the tavern with determined strides. He's about had it with walking on eggshells around Emily Turner. She wanted a pirate, so that's what he's giving her. Besides, he'd forgotten all about Ruby and any others like her when he and Emily had finally spent a proper night together. All she had to do was tell him what she wanted from him, but she refused to do so, was too busy trying to be hard like the men she sailed with. Does she really have a right to be angry?

(He tells himself she doesn't, but he knows she really does, and he's beginning to realize the line between what's actually Alex and what's just an act is starting to blur, and he wonders how long it'll be before all that's left of Alex is what Emily started him becoming.)

She's sitting with Jo in the small, cozy common room at the Good Goddess, playing cards, when Alex appears in the doorway. He startles several of the barmaids scattered around as he stalks across the room, and Emily supposes he can look a bit menacing on the rare occasion he gets angry. She's hardly afraid of him, though, and only raises her eyebrows at him as he comes up. "You know, I must admit, I wasn't actually expecting you'd come find me later. I figured you'd at least wait until tomorrow to try for an apology."

"An apology? I wouldn't 'old ye're breath if that's what ye're lookin for, dearie."

Jo seems to quickly decide this is not a conversation she wants in the middle of, as she downs the drink in front of her and then stands, brushing her dress out and avoiding eye contact with either of them. "Well, I think that means time to go for me." She goes on to mumble a 'good night' before making her escape.

Alex sits himself down where the older woman had been, and Emily wants to get angry or slap him or burst into tears or maybe do all three but she doesn't do any of those things because she's learned by now that she has to be tougher than that. "I didn't say I was looking for an apology, I only said I figured you'd try for one."

"I know ye well enough to know when ye're angry, Peg."

Peg? Why would he call her that? He never calls her that, and so pointedly, too. She hides her confusion with a scowl. "Alright, yes, I wasn't exactly pleased to meet one of your little whores, and you do know how to pick them don't you? Adrienne and then Ruby, they always manage to be the most pretty."

"Jealousy, is that all this is?" He snaps back. "And 'ere I was 'opin ye'd be above all that."

"Forget it, Sparrow. Honestly, I wasn't actually stupid enough to believe I was special." She leans in a little, lowering her voice, and she blames it on the rum she's had throughout the night, what she says next. "It only proves how right I was all those months ago, doesn't it? Love is a – a fairytale, a bedtime story Alex."

"We live in a world of fairytales, dearie, and most of them are true, ye know."

"Well, this is the one that simply isn't."

The anger in his eyes fades and for a moment, just a moment, he gets that sad look she thinks she sees sometimes… but it is, as always, gone as quickly as it came. "Right, then. As I said. I make no apologies."

"And I'll ask for none. I am not your…" And there it is again. What are they, exactly? What would she like to be? She still doesn't know. "It's none of my business as long as I don't hear about it." She settles back in her chair again and contemplates getting ahold of one of the barmaids for another drink as she gathers up the cards she and Jo had been playing with.

"Good." Alex snaps back as she does. The silence that follows is heavy enough to be almost unbearable. Something inside of her screams that YES, she absolutely does want an apology! She wants him to beg her forgiveness for Ruby and any and every other woman he's ever even looked at with those thoughts in mind! She wants him to stop acting like – like a stupid, sleazy pirate!

But she's not delusional. She understands she can't demand that of him with the line she's firmly drawn. So Emily screams silently while Peg stands calmly. "You could stay. Here, I mean, with me for the night. I…" I can hardly sleep at all without you. She doesn't actually go on.

She expects him to soften like he normally does, to stand and follow her to the room she's calling hers for the night. He does stand, but the expression on his face remains guarded. "What?" He asks, quiet but demanding. "Finish the sentence, Peg."

What does he want her to say? Abruptly annoyed, she huffs, pushing past him. "Good night, Alex."

My Dearest Brother,

I am currently preparing to embark on a journey that I'm no longer sure I'll come back from in one piece. I fear I have angered my goddess somehow and as such am no longer sure I have her so entirely on my side as I am used to. Mind, I do not fully believe she has abandoned me either, but I thought some warning might be fair to you. If my Queen can make the journey in one piece, however, I plan to head straight for Shipwreck when we make it back, as I intend to have a new guest aboard that I think you'll very much want to see. Watch for us, Joshy. I did promise, remember?

I also feel I owe it to you to tell you that you were a better judge of Alex than I knew until recently. That does not make it anymore your job to defend me, as he is still a good man (and here she very nearly puts boy out of a habit that has yet to be broken, but decides against it because they are neither of them children anymore) and I no damsel, I can fend for myself well enough. I am sorry for being hard on you nonetheless. Please forgive me, for that and for anything else I may need to apologize for, as I'm sure you could come up with quite the list by now.

With all my love,

Emily

She deliberates for some time on whether to actually send it. It's quite possible that she'll be fine and therefore what she'd written will only serve to worry Joshy over nothing, but on the other hand… she wants to make sure to get that final apology out, for her own sake as much as for his. In the end she decides to be selfish – she sends the letter.

"Jo!" The older woman grimaces in a way that would normally have Emily feeling terrible for the tone she'd taken, but this morning she's in no mood to give out any apologies. "Please tell me you've seen Sparrow."

"And good morning to you, Cap'n." Is the sarcastic response. Emily glares. Jo heaves a long suffering sigh, forcing a tone as respectful as one could expect on a pirate ship. "Last I saw of Alex the two of you looked about ready to have a row in the middle of the Goddess."

"Yes, and then we did. Sort of. And then he left and now he's not here."

"Well what would make you think I know where he is?"

"I was just hoping you'd seen him. I swear if he's not here by the time we cast off, I'll leave his sorry arse behind."

"No you won't." Jo gives an unladylike snort, then mutters. "Almost wish you would with the way you two…"

"What?" Emily snaps.

"Nothing, Cap'n." The older woman shakes her head as she slips past, heading for the galley.

Thinking over the events of the previous night, Emily calls back to her. "I'm going to look for him."

"Of course you are."

"Jo!" She snaps again, but there's a touch of affection behind it this time. There beginning to sound like sisters again. They do this often.

The older woman turns around, hand on her hip, eyebrow raised, but there's a smile just tugging at her lips. "Aye, Cap'n. I'll keep an eye on things here."

"And I thank you." And on that note, Emily leaves.

...

He'll never dig himself out of this one. He knows this the moment he wakes and can feel the sun shining on his face through the small window of… oh no. He hopes for a moment that it isn't true. He can't possibly have been so impulsive (stupid, stupid) as to…

Slowly, he opens his eyes, takes in his surroundings. Sure enough, he recognizes the bed he's lying on, the chest of drawers on one wall with its mirror… and there she is. Ruby. Still sound asleep, her black curls a wild mess, her arm draped over his draped over her tiny waist, her skin bare and soft and damning. Bugger.

Taking his arm back – slow and careful, no need to wake her – he slips out of the bed and begins dressing hastily. Snatching up his affects with his shirt only half tucked in and his vest left open, he slips out of the room, out onto the sparsely populated streets – and runs full tilt for the docks.

…

The streets of the hung-over port are sparsely populated and the sun shines bright enough that Emily's mood begins to improve, if only a little. Alex has her now. Her first instinct is to think he'd gone back to spend the night with Ruby, but she keeps calm, forces herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. He has her now. What happened over the seventeen months or so they'd been apart isn't important because he has her now and he wouldn't...not when he has her. Would he?

Maybe she's asking too much. Maybe she's over complicating it. Maybe they are pirates and that's all the excuse or explanation he needs anymore. When had that happened, she wonders. When did they stop being children, just surviving, and really become pirates?

This thought has only just had time to wriggle its way into her head before – well, she doesn't really know what happens. All she knows is that the wind is knocked out of her and she is falling, falling until she hits the ground hard, pain shooting through her head and down her back, her vision blurring. She can't breathe, her chest grows heavy, and oh, well, that might be because there's someone on top of it…

"Bugger." The familiar exclamation reaches her ears, and her vision begins to clear, just enough…

"Sparrow! Get the hell off me." She shoves him angrily, and he scrambles to his feet.

"Emily! I'm sor-I wasn't look-let me help…" Alex reaches out his hand, seemingly on impulse.

She swats it away angrily as she stands, one hand coming up to rub the back of her now aching head as she looks him over. His shirt is half untucked. His vest isn't buttoned. His hair isn't pulled back it usually is. "What is the matter with you?"

…

"I'm sorry." He tries again. "I…" She looks angry, but not to the degree he'd expect if she suspected… is it possible she's not jumping to (all the right, granted, but still) conclusions?

"Well?" She demands in her 'I'm the captain' tone, brushing off her blouse a bit before crossing her arms.

He could lie. He could lie through his teeth and with any luck she'd never know and he'd be saved a world of trouble. But should he really? She seems to be making a habit of not being entirely honest with him. He decides he doesn't care about should anymore. Besides, this is certainly the last time he intends to find himself in this situation; he'll be all Emily's from now on, he swears it to himself. "I…" He trails off and makes a show of closing his eyes and swaying a bit. "I must've 'ad too much to drink las' night after... Only jus' woke up an' I knew ye'd be gettin ready to cast off soon." And it's so blatant a lie it's ridiculous, he hadn't had a drop to drink all night, isn't really much of a drinker at all, though he tries to pretend otherwise for the usual reasons.

She studies him a moment, softening, beginning to look a touch worried and, perhaps, guilty. "I'd never go anywhere without you, you twit, you should know that. Are you – alright? I mean, about last night, I'd been…"

"M'fine." He grumbles back, a touch more surly, even throwing in a scowl for good measure as he rakes a hand through his hair and slips past her. "Don't ye 'ave a ship to run or somethin, Cap'n?"

He can feel her worried eyes on his back as he follows, so apparently she's buying it. He keeps up the act, stalking off towards the ship, and tries to decide whether to feel proud of himself.

"Mother. Mother, please." She is pleading and terrified, but her voice is steady because she's also determined, so determined because she so badly does not want to die and by her goddess she won't go down without a fight, doesn't matter who she's fighting. "I don't want to fight with you."

Her mother – Captain Swann – all slimy, scaly skin and seaweed hair – but it's not seaweed, seaweed doesn't move like that, and it almost looks like… "I can't let you do this Emily…"

But she's heard this conversation before by now, over and over and over again, there has to be more, what is she missing? What is Calypso trying to tell her? Her mother looks a little different, there's those gills, were those more recent too?

"Simple?" Her mother mocks. "Tell me, just what is your plan, then?" And she's pacing a slow circle around Emily, like a shark… and there's a hissing, it sounds like…

…like the mermaids, Emily remembers, at Whitecap Bay, snake-like hissing, and her mother's hair, it didn't move like that when Emily first began having these dreams, or for that matter any other time before that she'd caught a glimpse of her mother. There's something to this, she knows it, what is it, think, think…

Emily squares her shoulders. "I would never ask Alex to do such a thing."

"Ah," Captain Swann sounds almost gleeful, "but that does not leave out the third option, does it?"

And they are fighting now, and Emily knows how this is going to end, and it twists her stomach, but she has to think past it, what's happening, what's literally happening? Emily's mother is fast and damned determined, she gets past Emily's defenses several times, and Emily is backed into the corner, and her sword goes flying. Wet powder, her pistols won't fire, and then… just as her mother lunges, her hair flairs out, and it really isn't seaweed, it's snakes, darting and hissing and ready to bite, and Emily is abruptly reminded of the books she'd read, one of which had had a picture of a gorgon…

And there's her mother's voice, as soft as it once was when Emily was still very small. "I'm sorry."

And then the dream ends as abruptly as it always does. Emily shoots up in bed, gasping and clutching at her chest, half worried as she always is that she'll find a sword sticking out of it. But there isn't one, of course. She's alive and well and… alone. Alone? Why is she alone?

"Alex?" She calls softly, looking around her dimly lit cabin. But he's nowhere to be found. They'd fallen asleep together, as usual, why would he have left her? But then, she'd woken to find him gone the night before, too. She thinks maybe she should go after him, but she doesn't. She just sits and stares at nothing and tries to make sense of her vision and wonders why Alex isn't accepting her apology this time. She'd been drinking the night they'd argued. Not that much, and it would hardly be an excuse anyway, but she'd used it as one and he'd said she was forgiven, but he isn't acting like it, and he won't call her Emily anymore. It's always some pet name, or captain, or Peg now.

Why Peg? He's the only one around who knows her as Emily, or did, she doesn't understand and it bothers and confuses her. Why must she always be so bothered and confused by him? Or was this her fault. Has she managed to ruin things again? She seems to be good at that.

Heaving a sigh, she flops back down and pulls the covers up, closing her eyes determinedly. She's getting sick of feeling guilty, especially when it comes to Alex, and she knows by now how men work. Whatever's wrong with Alex now, he'll come back to her eventually, if only because of what he won't be getting without her.

Emily feels guiltier still for thinking like this, but Peg is getting louder than Emily, and Peg just feels proud that's she's learning and hopes she's right.

…

"Do ye really know 'ow to read this?" He asks, his voice soft and unnaturally void of emotion. He's been like this ever since they'd left Tortuga, strangely subdued.

The old, intricate bamboo map is rolled out on Emily's desk, and she aligns its circles with care, using it as an excuse not to have to look at Alex. "Jo says that, according to her father, there's not much to be done with it after a certain point. Once we start in on the proper heading, the course will sort of set itself."

"That's – comforting." The words drip with sarcasm, but that's not unusual. Sarcasm is about the only thing he seems intent on expressing as of late.

"It doesn't sit well with me either, but I have to believe my goddess will get us there somehow. It's what we do when we're there..." She picks up her uncle's compass – now hers, apparently – and opens it. "I just hope this thing will still work." It settles briefly on Alex, and then on the bed she hasn't been getting much sleep in, and then just spins aimlessly before doing the same thing all over again. Worried that it may prove a bit useless anyway when the time comes, she closes it, and then her eyes. Papa, papa, papa. My papa was taken from me and what I want is to have him back. She opens her eyes, then slowly the compass again. It spins and spins, and then, to her amazement, points at something that isn't Alex. In fact, it really is pointing in the direction their heading… and then it's spinning again. Goddess, she's as bad as her uncle.

Alex has his eyebrows raised, watching her. With his hair tied back in a braid and the bandanna he'd acquired somewhere along the line, and the gold ring in his ear and the two rings on his fingers it looks like he may, somehow, have nicked from his father just for fun… Goddess, he's such a handsome bloody pirate, it's not fair. Blushing, she turns her attention back to the compass, which is now pointing straight at him, of course.

She shuts it and tosses it back on the desk. "You know, I don't know how I'm ever to get anything else done with you around to look so... you." She tells him.

"Look so me? How very descriptive of ye, dearie." And there's the ghost his smirk, her favorite smirk.

"Well, I'm not sure how else to describe a Sparrow. Mine is his own kind of perfection." She leans in for a kiss, but he hesitates. Pouting, she backs off and rolls up the map, tucking it back into the hidden compartment of the desk it had been hidden in (Anna had showed her; one could not afford to lose this particular map). "I think I'll go up and take the helm." She says, airy but pointed, trying to bait him, but he's not biting. He only nods and crosses the room to open the door for her. Giving up with a huff, she rolls her eyes at him before stalking out of their cabin.

I had a weird little burst of creativity over the past several days, the results being that the next chapter is written and I've just started on the one after that. And I seem to be all about the drama here lately. The next one is a little less of that and a lot more of them actually accomplishing some things, I promise. Thanks for reading, and thanks to horseloverhasajarofdirt, my lone reviewer. :)