Kindred Spirits

Chapter 14

Meeting old friends and suppressing new feelings...

Where we left off:

'In that case, it won't be the cat then, eh?' Jack smirked as he downed some more of the wine.

Will stood up and walked towards his workshop, 'I'll just go take a look...'

As Will crept towards the door of his smithy, he paused to listen to the sound once more. It appeared that the sound was getting louder the closer he got to the door. What amused Will the most about this situation is that the sound really did sound like a cat that was trying to be let back in. He chuckled quietly at the thought of Jack being right, but had no intention of telling the pirate when he returned to the house. Jack would only hold it over him, and Will didn't fancy giving him that type of ammunition.

He covered the distance to the smithy fairly quickly while lost in thought and was a little surprised when he almost collided with the door. After chiding himself for not paying attention, Will opened the door and saw nothing at first, but then he felt something nudge his leg and looked down to see the little French bulldog he had seen with the female pirate that had wanted to buy a sword earlier.

Since she never returned he figured she had lied about the sword, so he had forgotten all about her while he began to work on another blade.

Jack walked down the hallway only to find Will still standing at the door to the smithy. He looked over Will's shoulder, only to see nothing there. 'What is it, dear William?'

'It's a dog.'

'You 'ave a dog then? Oh, I just love dogs!'

Elisabeth trailed behind Jack and came up behind the two men. 'No, Jack. We don't.'

As Jack looked down, his eyes grew wide.

'Forget what I just said, I hate dogs... I bloody hate 'em! This can't be! How did this dog get 'ere?'

'Oh look, Will!' Elisabeth peered over her husband's shoulder to see the dog. 'It's the darling dog that came in with the lady pirate! Now what was his name again...? Buddy... Bully... no, Bullet! Come here you sweet little thing!' Elisabeth said sweetly, trying to coax the dog over to her. The dog instantly walked towards Elisabeth, who then sat down on the floor as the little French bulldog started to lick her hand. After greeting Elisabeth, Bullet then turned to Jack and started waving its little tail and nudged his leg with its head.

Jack shoved Will aside and poked his head around the door. There was nothing there, not another soul. How did that bleedin' mutt get here, and why isn't the Hellcat here with the wretched thing? She never leaves it... Why didn't she come too? He thought about her absence with a sense of loss and longing. Longing! WHY was it that I can't get rid o' these feelings when I think about that heinous bitch? And just WHY does she always seem to pop up in me mind!

Elisabeth looked up to Will, 'Something must be wrong, dear. She said the dog never left her side and seeing how much she loved this little one, I would've thought that she would never let it out of her sight.'

Jack couldn't help himself. He had to know about this lady pirate that dear Lizzy seemed to know so much about. 'Who was the lady pirate that was here? Ye remember why she was even here in the first place?'

'Her name was Devon Duville,' Will replied as Jack cringed when he heard the name he had expected. 'At least, that's what it was if I'm remembering correctly. She originally came in because she wanted to buy a sword, but said she had some business to attend to, so she left. Strange thing is that she said that she'd return later, but never came back.'

'So she left the dog behind...?' Jack suggested.

'Heavens no! As soon as she told us she had to leave she leashed it and went to the Edwards villa. I was the one that gave her directions, so I should know.' Elisabeth retorted, while she tried to regain the dog's attention.

'Who's Edwards?'

'He's a navy officer. I don't know why she would've wanted to see him though...' Elisabeth answered, still coaxing the dog to come to her, but was failing miserably since it did not seem to want to leave Jack's side.

'Jack?' she queried.

'Aye?'

'This dog knows you.'

'Whatever makes ye think that, lass?' He smoothly responded as inwardly he cursed Elisabeth for being so perceptive.

'Because it seems to enjoy being with you. Dogs like this one aren't usually too keen on being around people they don't know, and since you never called him, I concluded that it must know you. And since you know the dog, therefore you also know the pirate lass that owns him... Do you not?' Elisabeth studied his face, seeing if eyes would give him away as Will's so often did.

Jack kicked himself for being so bloody inquisitive and cursed Lizzy again for being too smart for her own damn good. Dandy... this was just dandy! How can I possibly wiggle me way out o' this one?


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Devon hadn't been conscious for more than a few moments before she became painful aware of something that was making her feel as though her head were split in two. She slowly raised her arm and touched the back of her head, grazing her fingers past an incredibly large bump and cursing herself the next moment at the surge of pain that ripped through her head once again. She couldn't concentrate on anything under this condition, let alone figure out where in God's name she was. Her head was pounding like hell and she was afraid her skull might burst if the pain got any worse. This is more painful than the worst hangover EVER! She held her head in her hands while her fingers tangled in her curls and she gently rocked herself. All of this ceased immediately when her ears picked up some low whispering coming from her left. Dammit Dee, keep yerself together woman! Don't sit here and rock yerself like yer some infant! Yer a strong woman fer crying out loud! Bloody hell... I am strong, right? Dear Lord, did really just think that? This is not good...

After Devon realised how much of an arse she must've looked like, she removed her hands from her head and slowly raised it. Nice 'n slow now Dee... no sense in makin' this feel any worse than it already does. This thought managed to produce a small smirk on her lips as she glanced around. Not much to see tho'... she mused as she saw nothing but bars and solid walls which surrounded her. When she tried to turn her aching head a bit, she saw two filthy looking men stare back at her.

Flashes of previous events came back to her... Port Royal... Inca treasure with a horrible name... Navy officers... Those damned bayonets... Two redcoats who were now dead by her hand ... Bullet – gone... The inevitable 'short drop and sudden stop' that now awaited her... And all for that bloody map!

THE MAP! She felt beneath her vest... yes! The map was still there, safe from prying eyes nestled in her bosom. She smirked. Truly amazin' how those wigs seemed t' be more afraid of catching viruses th' likes o' me than catchin' bullets or being run through by swords...

'Ello poppet.' Her head nearly whipped around at the voice, but she managed to prevent it ... Don't even wanna think how much tha' woulda hurt...

'Oh goody... Not only do they stare but they talk as well,' she mocked in a near-perfect English accent. She smirked back at the men and ran a hand through her curls in order to get some of the hay out.

'Yer Devon Duville ain't ya?' the other man questioned.

'Now what gave tha' away? Me graceful ent'ring of these high quality fancy establishments?' she switched back to her natural drawl as she grinned at her answer.

'Not quite poppet, but there are more guards down 'ere then before ye was brought in, and I've 'eard them say ye were to be watched wit' eagle eyes, seein' that ye've escaped before. And asides that, we've met before. Don't ye remember?' the man asked her with pleading eyes.

'Can't say that I do, lad,' Devon retorted flatly. At the moment she was too concerned with surveying her surroundings, well, that and looking for a way out naturally.

'Singapore...' he said as if to jog her memory of their meeting. As if that one word would instantly bring back all the memories needed.

'Oh yes, well tha' makes it SO much clearer fer me mate. Do ye not realise that I've prob'ly met HUNDREDS of sailors like ye while docked in Singapore! Just what makes ye think I'd remember ye anyway? Of course I know why ye remember me, as I do tend ta make a dashin' impression on the male species an' all...'

The man wouldn't give up, since he knew for a fact that she had fancied him all those years back.

'Ye tattooed me upper arm, made the design yerself, ye did. And ye also told me that ye'd ne'er met a man as strong and good lookin' as me,' he stated flashing her what he thought was a brilliant smile while he pulled up his sleeve in order to show her the work done by her own hands.

'Ah, I remember that tattoo... quite well in fact. That was a good one wasn't it?' she smirked but left no pause during her reminiscent tale. 'But about th' strong and good lookin' thing... I say that all the time, luv. Ta ALL the men, it's basically to soothe 'em, make 'em a bit more comfortable, ya know? Nothin' new and unusual 'bout that luv,' she explained while she studied the design on his tan shoulder. It was a snake entwined with an anchor. Wasn't all that hard to do really ... Though it would've been tricky for someone without her flawless taste and supreme abilities.

'Ye do need a touch up though luv. I ain't got my stuff here with me now, but as soon as I'm out ye should look me up,' she said winking at the men.

'I doubt that either of us will ever get out of 'ere alive, Duville.'

'Make that all three o' us, mate,' the other man added.

'Well, ye see, here be th' problem. I've always said that I'd go down with a big bang, an' I sure as hell ain't gonna settle fer no 'short drop and a sudden stop' shit. It's just not me...' she replied firmly. Even though she knew the man was right, there was no use telling him that. She wasn't gonna get out of here alive... unless she managed to come up with a brilliant plan that is. But naturally in order to get that brilliant plan, she would need rum – and lots of it... And since it just so happened that there wasn't any around this bloody cell, she was doomed.

'What are ye in for anyways, Duville?' the man asked, still somewhat disappointed that he hadn't made the impression on her that he thought he did all those years back.

'What I'm in for? Well, fer just being me lovely little wicked self, I'd wager,' she responded with a smirk.

With that she shoved her back up against the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs. This whole situation had gotten out of hand. If there was one thing Devon hated, it was loosing control. And it seemed she had indeed lost all control... it was all out of her hands now. She was stuck here without a thing to do but wonder what exquisite torture James bloody Norrington has in store for her simply because she's always so stubborn and headstrong. If she'd only let Dacosta, or anyone for that matter, come with her, then she wouldn't be in this mess. Together they could have kicked some serious lobster tail. But NO... she just had to bring the bloody dog with her rather than a crewmate and she just HAD to prove herself again. It wasn't even as though she needed to, because she knew that not one of her crewmates underestimated her abilities. But perhaps it was she that had overestimated herself. She had been caught completely off guard when the bloody dog decided to play games with her. And now to make matters even worse, she had turned into a puppet on a string, or rather a poppet on a strong thick rope to be exact. But that's not even the best part! Not only was she sure she'd be hung, but the one the held the strings and pulled her wires, who was now able to control her every move, was none other than James Norrington. I am a dead woman.

A dead woman I may be ... but I'll be damned if those lobsters find me map! Should hide it somewhere else, lest those fools decide they need ta search me bodice or flog me – o' now tha' I wouldn't mind ... Devon grinned salaciously at the thought. Now, now Dee ... now's th' time fer plannin', not ta have yer mind in th' gutter ... altho' I must admit it's quite fun down there. Devon's grin widened. Once she was able to extract her mind from the gutter, Devon risked a quick glance around the area to see if anyone was watching her, hoping that those wigs wouldn't choose this moment to check up on her.

The coast was clear, so she removed the map from its hiding place and tucked it inside of her left boot, pulling her breeches over it. No one would notice it there. Since they had already robbed her of her effects, there would certainly be no need to check her again. Also, since it was currently residing in her boot, it couldn't scrape her sides and stomach, and make her quite uncomfortable. After that she pulled her hat over her eyes and used the quiet time to fabricate a plan for her escape. Norrington had made the mistake of underestimating her once, but he wouldn't fall for her tricks for a second time... that much she knew. She just had to wait for a chance, an opportune moment to...

Yes? What had ye planned on doing exactly, Dee? Yer mind's as empty as a blank sheet.

She ran a hand along the side of her neck, subconsciously scratching her latest scar underneath her scarf. As if on cue, flashes from the night she had gained that particular scar made their way into her mind. A slight smile formed on her lips when the pleasant memory of Sparrow's kiss flashed through her head... She remembered all too well how vulnerable she had been that night. That man had really gotten under her skin... He had completely torn down her wall of self control, and all he'd done was kiss her. No man had ever crossed that line before... Well, that was not entirely true. Only one other man had managed to do that before, but still it had taken him years to do so. And alas, he didn't live to tell the tale. Even though she had truly loved Francis, she had been young and naïve back then. So naturally there were times when he would promise her the world – and she, the stupid cow she was, believed him. It was only after they were engaged that he tried to change her, to keep her indoors. He restrained her and tied her down. Suddenly it seemed that he didn't approve of her lifestyle anymore. He was jealous of her love for the sea and livid at the constant attention she got from other men. Strange, because he always claimed to love the way Devon embraced life. Then one night Devon had found herself on the edge of that thin line between love and hate, and she realized the only way to regain her freedom again was to kill the leech that sucked out her passion for life and adventure. She closed her eyes, and allowed her thoughts to wander free in her mind... She didn't want to dwell on thoughts on Francis, and anything else would do at the moment.

Not even a few seconds had passed when who should pop into her mind but none other than Captain Jack Sparrow. Oh bloody, bloody hell! First th' damned scar made me think o' that bastard ... then Sparrow's kiss caused me ta think about Francis, how they both broke me walls – which ironically I thought ta be impossible, which it obviously isn't ... But naturally once I try ta evict the thoughts o' Francis from me mind who should come back ta bite me in the arse but Jack bloody Sparrow!

Damn! What possessed me ta bring back those memories in th' first place? Oh yes, Sparrow... Oh GOD NO! Why th' hell does that man make me feel so weak? How is it that he was able ta cross that damned line so easily ... s' never been that easy fer anyone before... Have I crossed it in the opposite direction? But she HATED him! Not only that but she knew for sure that he hated her too. She knew, because... because he acted like she did. Oh my god... This is not good. Th' things ye hated most about Sparrow – his smug grin, his wits, the arrogance, his loose seductive behaviour, the double meanings in almost every word he spoke... Good Lord, Dee! He does exactly what you do, acts the same way you do and ye hate him for that... Is this why he makes her so angry? Simply because he treats her like she treats him...? It's all too damn familiar... Devon suddenly felt cold inside... No man had ever dared to speak up to her – and the ones who did would end up like Francis. Sparrow had disrespected her, threatened her, hurt her, cornered her and kissed her and she had just walked away from him. She didn't do ANYTHING to him! Why Dee? Why haven't you killed him? Ye certainly seem ta hate him enough ... Why are you allowin him ta take ye fer granted? S' not like he's special... But he didn't tremble or swoon for her like all the others. He didn't fear her because she didn't fear him. Perhaps she hated him the way she did because she hated the fact that he had somehow made his way into her hear – HELL NO!

I BLOODY WANT THAT DAMNED MAN OUT O' ME SYSTEM!


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'Miss Duville, at long last we meet again...' It was the sound of that monotone voice which spoke to her, as it overly pronounced every word upon delivery, that so brutally yanked her from her reverie.

'Huh?' Devon muttered, unwillingly being pulled back into consciousness... only to be faced with the Commodore. She got up and slowly swaggered towards the wall of iron bars that stood between her and James Norrington. When she reached them, she casually leaned on the bars with one arm and put her other hand on her hips.

'This is all you've come up with, Duville? No witty snide remarks? No obscene propositions? I am amazed, thoroughly astounded,' he said raising an eyebrow and looking at her in disgust.

'Well James, I've amazed you before, haven't I? I distinctly remember how yer jaw dropped the last time we met and how ye were more than willin ta listen to my indecent proposals, though ye were a bit shy at first... But puttin that aside, this is quite a way ta greet a former lover, Norrie. Figured you'd missed me, but ta lock me up in a prison-cell in order to ravish me – or at least claim me all ta yerself – now don't you think that's a tad bit out o' line even for a Commodore?'

In a shot, his arms went through the bars that held her captive and his hands seized her throat. Devon swallowed... or at least she tried to, given the fact that he was choking her she couldn't manage that too well. He was slowly but surely killing her, here and now. She tried to free herself, thinking he might loosen his grip if she began digging her fingernails into his hands. Perhaps I shouldn't bait poor Norrie anymore. It seems that white wig has drained his sense of humour bone-dry.

He let up the pressure he held on her only slightly so that she could breathe, but still left his hands around her neck as to keep the threat fresh in her mind. 'I intend to do nothing of the sort, pirate. You've escaped your destiny once, but you can count on the fact that this time, I will see to your care personally.'

'Aw, ye care about my wellbeing, how noble of ye, dear. I'd fancy a bit of yer special treatment though. Ye should know that I've cherished the memories of Nassau deep in me heart.'

'You do not even have a heart, Miss Duville'

'You wound me dear. But let's skip the chit-chat and get down to business here... To what do I owe the honour of yer visit, Norrie?'

'Don't call me that, Duville.' His voice had taken an edge to it, but was still quite monotone. His eyes stared into hers and seemed as cold as ice, even with the damp heat that found its way into the fort's dungeons.

'My apologies...' And even though she didn't mean it, she would do anything to get Norrie to remove his hands from her neck.

'You've killed two of my finest men today, Duville.'

'Those were your finest? Some pride of the King's Royal Navy they were ... getting beaten by a girl,' she snorted.

'You are to be brought in for questioning later this afternoon. The magistrate and I need to have some questions answered before we decide what to do with you.'

'I would be delighted,' she said, her voice dripping with an icy sweetness and turned her back on him, swaggering back to the far wall of her cell once more.

Devon knew there was no other option for her besides the gallows, but since they were determined to question her, maybe she use it to her advantage and could try to buy herself some time. And if by some miracle she did manage to get a trial before her sentence, she would have even more options open to her... Perhaps Drake would search for her; maybe they'd spring her out of here...

She sighed, No they won't as ye know it Dee. They had the code to think of, and no one aboard the Hazard had ever broken the code. She was the one who fell behind and she would stay behind, map or no bloody map.

'Duville! Ye look a bit tense, darling. Me thinks that ye could do with a bit of a distraction...' the man in the cell next to her said huskily.


'An' ME thinks that I find the gallows more exciting then that offer of yours at the moment, so shut yer hole or I'm gonna have another misdemeanour fer Norrie ta add on me list!'

'SILENCE!' one of the four guards yelled to them.

'Oh bite me!' Devon growled.

Devon curled herself up at the back of her cell, and used her hat as a pillow. Once she finally settled, rays of sunlight shone through the small 'window' above her, giving her the glare of the sun in her eyes. Just peachy. She shifted slightly as to get aware from the glare, and sighed dejectedly. She needed a plan, and quick, to get out of here. The only problem with her situation was that she needed a damn good plan, since she knew the plan she used in her escape from Nassau Port would not work this time. There was far too much hatred in Norrington's eyes, and besides that, she just couldn't feign being attracted to him anymore. It disgusted her ...

Not like Sparrow... Now where th' hell did that come from! It seemed that Jack Sparrow had taken up residence in her mind again and Devon couldn't escape his image. He seemed to have claimed every free space in her mind. She began to contemplate again about the thin line between love and hate... Could it be that she was afraid? No, Devon Duville is fearless. I am fearless and not afraid of Sparrow. Afraid of Sparrow? What a thought! 'You may not be afraid of Sparrow, but you are afraid of how he makes you feel...' Come again? 'He makes you feel weak Dee,' the voice inside her mind continued. 'You can't think straight when you are around him and even when you're not around him, you think of him. Now what does that tell you?'

'That I won't listen to you anymore, ye stupid cow!' she cried aloud... Oh great, she was talking to herself again... just dandy.

She concentrated on her breathing for a moment, then proceeded to sing. She found that things like this gave her a level head and cleared her thoughts for a few moments. So she started to sing, even if it was rather soft and sung mostly to herself...

Your eyes send shivers down my spine


they’re dark, but look like mine.

It’s like I see my soul’s reflection in a mirror baby

I get confused by what I see

When I look at you,

I see the worst side of me


Carved from the same wood, two of a kind


We we’re raised on the wrong side of a one track mind

We can never be together

That’s what I’ve come to see

‘Cause I don’t now whose worse.. you or me.

Looking at you, baby, I see the worst side of me.

She closed her eyes and kept lulling the same song over and over. She found that the song helped her to put her thoughts into perspective. She thought about what her inner voice had told her, and even though she had no idea as to how or why or when it happened, she realized that the voice was right. She hated the fact that this was allowed to happen – and without her knowledge as well! This voice inside her head had made a point, and while she tried desperately to ignore it, it was no use. A fact was a fact... and even she could not deny that. Sparrow had a hold on her and it was getting more than just physical, more than just an attraction...


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But Jack Sparrow couldn't escape Elisabeth's prying eyes. 'Tell me Jack, you know the lady pirate that came here, don't you?'

Jack didn't speak. He found that he couldn't lie to Elisabeth, so he simply nodded.

'How Jack? Is she a part of your crew?' Will asked with curiosity.

'Most definitely not!' he snapped. 'That woman is a friend of Ana's an' we met in Tortuga only recently.'

'You met?' he asked raising an eyebrow. 'Jack she is a pirate and a very attractive one at that...' Will continued, all the while trying to avoid the cold look Elisabeth was shooting in his direction. 'You don't just casually meet woman that look like her, Jack. You want them!'

'Do not!'

Will snorted in disbelief and Elisabeth decided to add her two cents to the matter at hand. 'Jack, you and the pirate lady were involved in Tortuga, weren't you? I've seen her, Jack. She's quite beautiful and given that I happen know what Tortuga's like – from experience–' as she shot a look at Jack, 'and I know what you're like Jack, just tell the truth.'

Jack rolled his eyes at the two of them. 'Well me guess is that the woman didn't talk at all while she was 'ere. Cause if the both o' ye are so smitten with her, she probably didn't open that trap o' hers at all.'

'Jack!' Elisabeth said in exasperation. 'She was quite a lovely woman, even if she is a pirate.' Jack glared at her for that jibe. 'She was also very nice, or at least to me she was,' she continued while she gave Will a knowing look.

'Aha! Just proven me point, lass. She seems to hate men and thinks that their only use is being pawns in her dirty little games.'

'She used you?' Will asked dumbfounded.

'God no! Try as she might, the lass certainly wanted to. That woman is Satan's Apprentice I tell ye! One moment she has the hots fer me, throwing herself at me, singing into my ear – and who could blame her, after all I am Captain Jack Sparrow – but the next she's as cold as ice and pushes me away!' he scoffed. 'Not only that but that bitch has got one hell of an attitude problem.'

'Looks like the two of you would get along just fine,' Will teased him, grinning like a Cheshire cat and winking at his wife.

'Don't even go there dear William, just drop the subject.'

And with that said he turned on his heel and made his way back into the Turners living room, refilled his glass and downed the red wine in one shot.

Will and Elisabeth didn't follow Jack, but instead Will opted to stay near the door to the smithy and as Elisabeth began to walk away he pulled her back to him and planted his lips onto hers.

While Jack was in the living room, he felt something nudge his feet, so he looked under the table to see the little black and white bulldog sprawled out next to his well worn boots.

Now that's something I don't see yer mistress do, though I admit that I'd like ta see that someday...

AND THERE SHE IS AGAIN! OH WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ME! WHY CAN'T I ESCAPE THE BITCH AND SIMPLY VISIT OLD FRIENDS? WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO CLAIM EVERY THOUGHT THAT CROSSES ME MIND AND WHY IS SHE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE? And where the hell did she go to anyways?

There was a lot Jack Sparrow didn't know about Devon, but he knew for a fact that she wouldn't leave her dog behind willingly... something must have happened...


She got caught, didn't she? Damn, that must be what happened – the unattainable Devon Duville had a little run in with the redcoats... His trademark grin plastered his face, but all of a sudden he got a strange feeling, one that gave him a horrible sensation in the pit of his stomach. She got caught, Jack! Ye can't just sit here smirking, DO something.

'Hell no! Serves 'er right, fer messin' with me and messin' with me mind,' he ranted aloud, attempting to convince himself not to go after her.

But the voice inside his head didn't go away, nor did the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Who are ye trying to convince here, Jack? Ye know ye want to see her.

'Yeah, I wanna see her – wanna see the Hellcat locked up!'

Ye don't mean that and ye know it Jack. She's gonna hang if ye don't do somethin', she's gonna break her royal pain-in-the-arse neck and then where would ye be?

'Then I'll be able ta forget 'bout her, an' besides, she's got what it takes ta escape! She's just like me.'

DAMMIT! That's it! She's just like me... attractive, witty, seductive, strong, daring, fearless... And I just happen to despise her for it... or do ye? And why the HELL am I talkin' to meself again!

'That's it! I've had enough! I'm goin' after her!' He was in a rage over these damned feelings, so he stormed out of the living room, barging through the door and back towards the smithy. In his fit of rage he nearly knocked a passionately kissing Will and Elisabeth onto the floor.

'Who are you going after, Jack?' Will asked after breaking free from his wife's lips.

'None other than Satan's apprentice herself! An' ye two are gonna watch her mutt, while I go think o' a plan...'


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Devon was led into a well lit, overly decorated room where Commodore Norrington, Lieutenant Gillette and another wigged-one, probably the Magistrate, waited for her. She was forced into a chair, her hands restrained by cuffs.

The man in the awful grey wig spoke first.

'Now Miss Duville, we have a few questions that we would like answered.'

'An' here I had figured that ye knew all th' answers already, why else have me arrested?' Devon spat back.

'Speak only when you're spoken to, Duville,' Norrington snapped.

'He just bloody spoke ta me, now didn't he?' Devon retorted while she shot a fierce glare at Norrington.

'Name your Captain, Duville, and the ship you sail on,' Norrington commanded.

'Over my dead body,' she snarled back.

Gillette bent over a little and looked her directly in the eyes with an icy glare before he spoke, 'Oh that can be arranged, pirate.'

'Suit yerself darlin', if that gets ye off, then by all means I'd love ta see you in action. Though I must admit that I didn't peg ye ta be the type for even perverted fantasies... but necrophilia? That goes a bit far, even fer me,' she said licking her lips. Gillette quickly sat down again and avoided her eyes. Devon knew she struck a chord and she grinned.

The older man spoke again, more softly this time, 'Listen dear, just name your captain and ship, and maybe we will be mild on you.'

'Maybe we will be mild on you...' she repeated his words in a thick accent, her voice positively dripping with sarcasm. 'Heavens, does that mean ye'll hang me with a velvet rope? Oh Goody! What fun! And b'fore ye ask again – NO yer not gonna hear any names from me luscious lips, 'cept yer own if ye wish it.'

The older man remained patient with Devon while the Commodore still remained seated, silently fuming at her antics. The older man addressed her again, patiently asking another question. 'Let's try another one then, why are you here Miss Duville?'

'Perhaps you would allow me to set the record straight ...' she began in her near-perfect English accent. 'But ye arrested me didn't ya, so why don't you tell me why I'm here,' she baited as she pretended not to understand his question.

'DAMMIT DUVILLE, you know what the Magistrate meant! Why have you come to Port Royal?' Norrington was so close to throttling her that his hands were itching for her neck again.

'Ah, now me little mind can comprehend ... Ye see I needed new undergarments, fancy ones. Couldn't find any in Tortuga, so I figured you hoity-toity people would certainly have just the thing for little ol' me,' she said emotionless.

Norrington trembled with anger as he hovered over the table, his face inches away from hers. 'I want some respect from you Duville. It should be given freely be the likes of you, not have me demand it from you. But mark my words I'll get your respect even if I have to beat it out of you!'

'In order to gain respect, ye need ta give respect and I truthfully would not call the hospitality and me treatment in this lovely dungeon very respectful, James.' She examined her fingernails when she spoke to Norrington, so therefore she didn't notice the fist in front of her face, about to hit her.

Her head flew back when his knuckles met her cheekbone, and she hit the back of her head on the polished wood of the chair she sat in.

'James, for heavens sake contain yourself!' The Magistrate was in shock over the Commodore's actions and he attempted to pull Norrington away from Devon.

Devon felt weary, but regained composure quickly. 'Now that's a wonderful way to win me respect mate. Would you like to see what that's gotten ye ... well, let me show ye,' and she promptly spat in his face.

Another fist collided with her face and she blacked out for a brief moment.

After blinking her eyes and slowly regaining her consciousness, she slowly stood up from the chair and stepped forward. The room was spinning and Devon's head was pounding more loudly than ever before, her cheek and eyes were burning. Eh, look...spots in front o' me eyes... oh this is not good, spots are bad...

Two guards and the lieutenant grabbed her and pulled her back. She pulled herself loose with the last bit of strength she could muster and came face to face with Norrington again. 'I'm sure you remember how I like spanking, James,' she spat his name out, 'but ye see, I did prefer it the other way 'round. An' ye seem to have forgotten about that little detail, darlin'. Let me refresh yer memory.' And with that said she entwined her fingers, her adrenaline pumping through her veins. She raised her hands above her head and quickly brought them down. The iron cuffs met Norrington's head with a great force that sent him to the ground. She was going straight to the gallows for this, she knew, but she didn't care. She couldn't let him get away with what they had done and said to her in this little room. There was no way in Hell she was going to sit here and take this shit.

The guards grabbed her forcefully and pulled her away from the Commodore. Devon didn't resist anymore, she knew that she had made her point. She glanced back at the Magistrate, the look in his eyes described her verdict, and it was crystal clear to her. There was to be no trial for her, she would hang and she would hang soon. But at least she had saved her Captain and her crew, she owed them that much. Let's just hope they got away, that they'd gotten far away from this bloody place before the Hazard could be discovered by those bloody cursed wigs.