Obligatory disclaimer: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

The sun was nearly unbearable as Julia walked along the wharf. Sweat trickled down her back, inching slowly, nearly agonizingly so, between her shoulder blades, then pooling in the hollow of her back, trapped by the waist of her skirt. Pausing to pull a handkerchief from her reticule, she dabbed at her upper lip and silently cursed the Caribbean summer. The infernal heat, combined with the complete lack of familiarity in knowing where she was going, caused Julia to momentarily reconsider her endeavor. But only fleetingly, as she was desperate for passage back home.

Resuming her undertaking, Julia's confident stride belied the bad case of nerves she felt. Feeling small and insignificant as she passed the slew of frigates, schooners and ships, Julia moved as quickly as she could short of breaking into a run. A single woman walking unaccompanied along the waterfront was the cause of many an admiring glance and not so respectful catcall, all of which Julia found out several times over. Feeling her cheeks burning in humiliation as she passed yet another water dog who whistled in her direction, Julia sighed in exasperation and weighed her options as she watched the wooden dock glide past under her feet.

Despite not wanting to talk to anyone she passed for fear that they might manhandle her onto their boat, Julia soon realized that she was in over her head and the only way out of her mess was to stop and ask for help. Which she knew she needed to do all along, but every fiber of her being protested her doing so. Taking several deep breaths in an attempt to settle her stomach, she made eye contact with a young deckhand who gave her a polite nod in return, obviously intrigued by the unescorted young woman, but also respectful. She blinked. Several times. Nothing bad happened. He did not bundle her onboard, forcing her to entertain his crewmen. Rather, he leaned his weight back on his elbows, resting against a pier post, waiting to see what she wanted. This is not as frightening as you think it is, you twit.

Feeling her confidence returning, Julia cautiously closed the distance between them, then said, "I am trying to book passage to Charles Towne. Are you all going that way or do you know where I might find someone heading in that direction?"

His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Ah, if only he could finagle her onboard for an hour or two before revealing his ship's actual destination… She looked like she would be a fun one to tumble. But, because of the earnest look on her face, his morals kicked in and after he ran his fingers through the curls of his sun-bleached hair, he pointed towards the end of the pier. "You were headed in the right direction, love, but you need to continue on a bit further. It is the Amphitrite you be seeking. I have heard that they will make for Charles Towne. Ask for a Captain Norrington. Unless I might persuade you to book passage with us… Or maybe a tour of the ship?"

A corner of Julia's mouth quirked up in mild amusement at the wistful tone in his voice. By the looks of him, the young man was barely into his teens. Young cheeky whelp. "Captain Norrington, you say? Well, thank you for your time." Julia then reached into her reticule and pulled out a coin, then pressed it into his hand. "For your time," she repeated before walking off.

After several more inquiries, all of them surprisingly uneventful, Julia found herself before the ship that would guide her back to civilization. If one wanted to call life in the Colonies civilized. But anything was better than living on this Godforsaken spit of sand! She did not know how her sister had done it. Taking a moment to collect her wits and gain her bearings, Julia silently observed the choreographed bedlam of the crew as they prepared the ship. It was like watching a ballet; each individual knew exactly where he needed to be in order to work most effectively, but it had to get done in the quickest amount of time possible, so there was an urgency to their actions. If not for the accursed swelter already stealing the air from her lungs, Julia would have found the scene before her almost breathtaking.

Despite using her hand to shield her eyes, a headache was starting to pound behind her eyes from squinting into the sun, so she allowed her gaze to drift from the men on the boat to the imposing figure at the dock's edge.

Watching the crew intently, his arms were crossed over his chest, his legs spread slightly apart, and his stance commanded respect. There was no doubt that he was captain of the vessel, not the way power and authority rolled off his person. Despite the shimmering of images in the blazing heat, his energy was nearly visible and, as hard as she was looking, Julia could swear that his command had a nearly tangible element to it. Solid. Not as all static.

Adjusting her own hat for maximum protection, she was almost amused that he was alone in being bareheaded; those under his command were all wearing some sort of protection from the sun upon their heads. A forearm, the shirtsleeve rolled back to expose heavily furred skin, rose up to block his eyes, becoming a makeshift visor from the blazing sun. The wind had pulled a finger of his dark hair free from his queue, the tendril dancing in the hot wind. Comprised of nearly six and a half feet of lean muscle, he looked quite formidable despite the look of affection he cast upon his vessel.

Berating herself for staring, Julia shook her head to clear her mind and gather her wits. Knowing that she was burning daylight, even though the sun was returning the favor upon her tenfold, Julia crossed the pier and stepped up next to the captain. So caught up in the events before him, he was oblivious to her presence. She had half a mind to draw his cutlass on him to see what his response would be, but, instead, she cleared her throat and asked, "Captain Norrington?"

He turned, peering at the woman before him down the length of his nose. His dark brow furrowed slightly and his green eyes narrowed in a cross between confusion and curiosity. It was very rare to see a woman of such… refinement standing on the wharf, especially so early in the day. Her brown hair, twisted into a complicated configuration known as the latest in style, glinted auburn in the sun and her blue eyes were inquisitive beneath the brim of her hat. But despite her elegance and bearing, there was little doubt of her career. No respectable woman walked alone. With the briefest glimpse of a smile he replied, "May I help you?"

His voice, smooth, deep and silky, glided over her skin like ice on a hot iron. A few days accumulation of beard completed his rough and tumble appearance, but it in no way detracted from his good looks. His regular features were pleasing and virile, if a little thin. If the circumstances had been different, such as meeting him in a drawing room while playing a game of whist, Julia knew it would have been impossible for her not to flirt. However, since she was desperate to get back to Charles Towne, it would do to keep a level head.

But Julia was mildly impressed at his poise, as she was sure few ladies of any breeding walked the docks alone and his restraint spoke volumes about his character. Julia stepped even closer, wanting her words to be shared only with him. "Actually, I was told by others that you were the one to speak with in order to book passage to Charles Towne. I am looking to get back home as soon as possible."

Others. Of course. "Is that so?" The condescending tone of his voice was nearly palpable.

Julia smirked, dimpling her left cheek, finding his ostentatious demeanor amusing but then quickly masked her emotions and smoothed her face, refusing to be cowed by the pompous man before her. But she was unable to hold his unwavering gaze and instead looked down at the water, watching the waves lap the wood of the dock, before returning her gaze to his. "It may be difficult to believe that I am not down here for my health or for my pleasure, but please believe me when I say that I am willing to pay whatever price you ask." She held her purse up and shook it slightly, allowing the clinking of coin to reinforce her statement.

James Norrington carefully regarded the woman. While not conventionally beautiful, she was nonetheless very pleasing to the eye. A figure that would turn any sailor's head, she was not fashionably thin but rather looked healthy compared to her female counterparts. Her eyes, fringed by long, thick lashes were large, bright and as blue as the crystalline waters surrounding the island. Those eyes as looked back at him with curiosity and openness. Her lips sat partly opened, waiting for his response.

Full, soft lips, perfectly made to be ravished.

The thought shocked him. Resolving to look away, but unable to bring himself to actually do so, Norrington could not help but notice that even in the shade of her hat, he could see the freckles smattered across the bridge of her upturned nose and onto her high cheekbones, making her look younger than her years. Yes, there is no doubt of her career.

Finally turning away, he laughed without a trace of humor, shaking his head as if ridding his mind of images best forgotten. Like bloody hell would he allow a woman on his ship! "A very tempting offer, I must say. But, sadly, you were misinformed. I am taking no passengers and I am not going anywhere near Charles Towne. I am sorry you wasted your time. I wish you the best of–."

"Now wait a minute!" Julia hissed, following closely at his heels and grabbing his elbow to keep him from retreating. She hated the desperation in her voice, but Julia had no idea of what else she could do if she was unable to book passage with this ship. "Others told me you were shipping cargo up north! Why would so many say that if it were not true? I am willing to pay a hefty price to book passage. Why are you turning me down? Is it because you think I–?"

Looking down the length of his nose, Norrington effectively silenced her with just a glance and caused her to not only let go of his person, but to take a step backward. "As I said, I am not interested in acquiring any passengers. I ship cargo. Only. Besides, women on ships bring nothing but bad luck," his words were icy along her spine, his tone poisonous. "Good day." Norrington sidestepped around her and started up the gangplank to his vessel; he owed her no other explanation.

But Julia felt otherwise.

Following close to his heels, Julia entreated, "If you will not help me, and that is certainly your choice, will you at least tell me who I might be able to book passage with? I came to this Godforsaken Hell–." She then stopped in her tracks, as if a realization had suddenly dawned on her. Here she was, acting like an uncouth guttersnipe! With a bitter smile, Julia touched the brim on her hat in salute. "You know what? I am pestering. I apologize. Good day to you too." Julia then turned to step off the gangplank to the pier.

Rolling his eyes, and against his better judgment, Norrington sighed, then stopped and grabbed her wrist, despite the impropriety of the intimate contact. The nagging voice in the back of his head was overriding the nagging voice in the front of his head – the extra money would indeed help. Wrenching the reticule from her hand, he opened it and removed several coins before shoving the bag back into her hand, with much of her money still intact.

"I will take you to Charles Towne under one condition."

Julia hardly dared to breath. Her heart beat with the velocity of a hummingbird's wings and felt like it would burst out of her chest any moment and take flight. "Anything," she whispered. At that moment, Julia realized that there was nothing she would do to get home. And instead of being terrified at the idea, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Having that knowledge gave her a sense of power. Suddenly, her bargaining chips got bigger. Anything.

The earnest look on her face nearly softened his heart. The emotion put into that single word told him that there was nothing more important to the young woman than getting to Charles Towne – and by any means necessary. Straightening his back in order to strengthen his resolve, Norrington barked, "That at no point in time during the voyage do I, or any of my crew, have to command you to remove yourself from our work. You will have nearly free reign of the ship, but only if you do not interfere with any of my men's activities. And includes me barring you from becoming any part – and I mean any part, despite any coaxing they many attempt – of the men's activities. Is that clear?"

Feeling her cheeks burn in humiliation and anger, Julia bit back her retort and balled her hands into fists, her fingernails cutting half-moons into the flesh of her palms. Instead, she slowly nodded her head in accord. He thought she was a whore! But if he was willing to transport her under that presumption, then Julia was not about to protest, for she knew it would fall on deaf ears. "As a bell. Now, if I may, a question of my own. Just one," Julia clarified when she saw the look of distain cross his features once again. "When do you plan on beginning your voyage?"

He looked at the sun, then the water height against the mooring post. He then settled his gaze on Julia. "In about three hours. When the tide is high, we will set sail. With or without you."