At the Security office:

Portsmith *sits at her desk planning the unveiling ceremony for the equestrian statue, after giving last orders on it.  She was not entirely happy with the horse's mane and wanted some extra medals added on her uniform, and the feather was too small, but otherwise, she was content with it.  Especially as Corso compared the statue to the monuments of Roman Emperors and suggested that she should build a triumph arch at the Security Square.  Great idea, but not yet ...  She takes the note that her easy-on-the-eyes secretary brought her and reads it*

"I ask for immediate removal of a Kat Abberline residing at Bournemouth House.  She endangered the whole project.  Yours, Dr. Rainey"

Portsmith:  She endangers all my projects.  Almost as bad as that Gypsy thief.  *calls for Corso*  Dean, I have a job for you!

Corso *enters, looking worried*  If it's about those paintings, I have not yet the authenticity paper ready.  That expert's handwriting is just horrible.  He should need a secretary.

Portsmith:  Good, you've had some practice.  I need your skills now.  I need two notes, one in Abberline's handwriting, the second in Manouche's.  I hope you can do the latter.

Corso:  I think so.  What do I write?

Portsmith *thinks for a while*  Let's see, what would be more urgent to Manouche, Kat or the research?  Maybe Kat.  Write just a short note in Abberline's style, something like this:  Manouche, I need your help, it concerns Kat.  Please come to Bournemouth House.  And Manouche's going to ask him to Chez Roux, she has some unsettling information of the treatment, some papers that she wants him to get right away.  That'll get him going. I know that she's now tied at the factory with that little pathetic drama, but when those kids are out, we'll send the notes.  She'll be tired and not at her sharpest.  See that Manouche arrives after Abberline has left when you put the time in the notes.

At Bournemouth House:

Abberline *later, sitting exhausted on the floor leaning his back against the sofa, with a torn shirt and scratch marks on his arms and chest, with a dreamy expression in his dark eyes half closed, smokes, shifts through the jewels and glass beads scattered on the carpet, spots the bill lying crumpled on the floor and picks it up* I should not have registered you at the hospital as my wife, it will sure get both you and me into trouble sooner or later...Somehow I forgot about Gili, after all, he's your closest relative and I am sure he could protect you better than I. He could maybe help you remember. *thinks, And I don't want to be anywhere near you when that happens *turns to look at Kat* Don't you miss your own home? Or your ship? Wouldn't you prefer to be on the Apparition...Your brother could protect you... *thinks, Darling, I got to get you out before you get tired of pretending to love me, I know you too well to buy that..*

Kat *Lays her head on his shoulder, sighs in contentment*  Gili 'as gone off in search of a shamen the survival of a gifted babe be of more import than my faulty memory.  I 'ave no memory of a ship nor a 'ome, only you.  For now, that be all I need.  *Runs her hand across his chest gently.*

Abberline *with a heavy sigh, puts his arm around her*  For now, yes, but you know, that is going to change ... When you remember.  Gili is the next of kin to you, not me.  *Let's the bill fall back to the floor*  But I will take care of you, even though it may cost me my job ...  And what would you be ready to do for me?

Kat:  If that be the way of it, then I don't want te remember.  For you luv, I'd do anythin', everythin' what e'er ye want.

Abberline *gives her a sly glance*  Anything for me?  *lifts her head up and gives her a kiss*  How about making some supper for me?

Kat: 'ow bout a bit of lamb and wine stew, eh? It'll take a bit of time but it be well worth the wait pet.

Abberline *looks at her in astonishment for her not getting mad*  Yes, that sounds fine ...

Kat *Smiles sweetly*  Ye rest up luv.  Ye expended an amazin' amount of energy.  I'll let ye know when it be ready, and afterwards we'll see about something interestin' in whipped cream for dessert.  Savvy?  *Giving him a smoldering look*

At Chateau Blanchefort:

Corso *returns to his study at Chateau Blanchefort, picks on his way a bottle from the wine cellar.  He's got his own stash of wines in one corner, but he's changed the etiquettes of some bottles and traded his wine for the Commander special occasions wines, which are excellent.  Returning to the studio, he starts with the notes, thinking first how they both would say it.  Short and concise with Abberline, and a longer soppy note for Manouche.  He takes the handwriting samples from his large archives, opens up the bottle and pours the wine into a very expensive antique glass of Bohemian crystal, which Portsmith got somehow from a castle museum at Prague, claiming that it was a business gift.  Corso takes a paper to and begins to practice Abberline's snobbish hand, when the alarm goes off and he sees someone at the gates.  It's a man he's never seen before, and suspicious looking, at that.  He hurries to see what it is about, because the Commander is still at the Office and the butler has the day off.*

Corso *opening the doors that are large at gates*  How can I be of assist?  If you have something to trade or a delivery to make, take the kitchen entrance.

Carver:  I ‘ope so, lad.  I be Captain Carver o’ Th’ Lancet, which is moored in yer very ‘arbor, even as we speak.  I’m lookin’ fer a bloke named Corso.  I were referred by ‘is brother.  Would ‘e ‘appen t’ be on th’ premises?

Corso:  Captain Carver, eh? And what might your business be? *thinks of his brother, the grey, proper and boring History professor, there's no way he could have any doings with a man who's clothes and talk reveal him from afar to be a pirate*  You never can be too careful enough  *whispers*  the Commander is very particular about her guests, so it's better we continue in my study in peace.  *let's him in and walks to his study, keeping a sharp eye on the guest, who looks at the treasures of the castle with a keen eye*

Carver:  Yer brother informed me ye might be interested in joinin’ me crew.  He were a most worthy man, an’ it’s to me great disappointment that he’s indisposed t’ continuin’ on with me at this particular juncture … due to nursin’ a broken heart, as I’m given t’ understand.  Bloody females.  *shakes head in disgust, then looks at Corso*  Regardless … he told me ye’d prob’ly be keen on takin’ his place, as it were, an’ joinin’ me crew.  He also informed me of yer expertise, which he insists is at least on par with his, if not better.  So what say ye, lad?  Do ye ‘ave th’ courage an’ fortitude to follow orders an’ stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?  *glances around, sneers*  Or do ye prefer t’ stay ensconced in this ‘ere museum, ay?  *laughs, then picks up a rare crystal figurine of a horse and rider, charging into battle; examines it, nods, raises eyebrows appreciatively*

Corso:  Now why did you not take my brother with you?  I haven't seen him in a long while, it almost seems like forever.  Er … certain death does not really appeal to me.  *corrects himself quickly when Carver looks sternly at him*  That's to say, I have had my share of it, as it were, he doesn't seem to know that I am retired.  *confidentally*  I got a curse upon me and I don't want to risk a ship for that ... I won't go into detail, but it includes shapeshifting dolphins ...  But I would be most interested in trading an treasures. You don't happen to be after a treasure, eh?  *nods at the figurine*

Carver *backs away from him quickly*  A curse!!  Blast!!  *peers at him closely*  Aye, I reckon ye ‘ave th’ mark, as it were.  *shakes head*  It’s sorry I am ta hear it, laddie.  If yer made up of half th’ mettle as yer brother, it would’ve been a partnership o’ grand mutual benefit, no doubt.  *shrugs*  Ah, well, easy come, easy go, ay?  I ain’t so anxious fer yer assist t’ be riskin’ a curse.  *shudders, then looks again at the figurine*  Seein’ as how I’m about t’ go plunderin’, me coffers are dead empty.  Consequently, I ‘aven’t much t’ trade fer this little bric-a-brac at th' moment.  All I ‘ave on me … *digs in pocket, pulls out ring Malachi gave him* … is this.  It were th’ ring yer brother bought fer his lady fair, savvy?  An' she turned 'im down, th' lil' fool.  Yer brother gave this t' me, partly 'cause it wounded 'im to th' quick to gaze upon it ... an' also to assuage me injured feelin's fer turnin' down me generous offer t' make 'im part o' me crew.  *examines ring, holds it out to Corso*  ‘Tis a fine piece, though I reckon on terms o' monetary worth, we'll be lookin' at no more than an even trade, this fer th’ figure.  Level peggin', in a manner o' speakin'.  As fer talk of other treasure … *looks at him closely* … ye sound as if ye ‘ave other items o’ interest.  Would I be readin’ yer meanin’ correctly?  *glances around room*

Corso *relieved* Yes, the Curse of the Man-Eating Dolphins. They ate two whole crews on the boats... er ships I was captain of, and what's worse, the ships too vanished into their greedy sharp-toothed snouts. *greedily, takes the ring, admires it from all directions* My brother, he has always had an eye for beauty but a soft heart....  Cursed be the women who take good men down. Nice work, this ring, tasteful and stylish *and thinks to himself, too stylish for a pirate to understand its real value*, but you see, these diamonds...it appears to me that some of them are fakes. *looks sternly at Carver* You can't fool an expert. But I'll accept it anyway. *grins* This ring, it could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Feel free to take a look around you, my friend... This castle you called a museum, it is my treasury *leans closer to him, confidentially* and as a good pirate, I am always ready to grab new booty...Take all you can, give nothing back *winks*

Carver *eyes him steadily, smiles, revealing a gold tooth*  Aye, lad, we ‘ave an accord.  *thinks to himself what a fine trade he’s made, since he knows of a collector who will pay plenty for the figurine*  I must confess, I’d never heard th’ legend ye describe, that o’ th’ Man-Eatin’ Dolphins.  But rest assured, I’ll ‘elp spread th’ word.  It’s me hope that someday ye reconsider yer retirement, an’ yer brother heal his broken heart – seein’ as how they be plenty o’ fish in th’ sea, savvy?  ‘Tis a tragedy to ‘ave two such fine pirates as yerself an’ yer brother out o’ commission due to what appear t’ be surmountable obstacles.  Although, I will say … *leans closer to Corso* … confidentially, if th’ pair o’ ye do resume piracy, I hope we don’t find ourselves on opposin’ sides.  If that be th’ case, I’d jus’ as soon ye continue yer retirement, an’ yer brother never recover.  *laughs uproariously, nudges Corso, nearly knocking him over.  Places figurine in pocket, starts for the door*  I’ll do no more window-shoppin’ today, laddie, I’ve seen enough.  ‘Specially in light o’ me limited barterin’ resources at present.  I’ll return at a more profitable time fer us both.  It’s been a pleasure, an’ I hope t’ look ye up again next time I find meself in th’ area.  *holds up a hand*  No worries, I’ll let meself out.  *walks through the house, eyeing other expensive items with keen interest.  Leaves Chateau Blanchefort.*

Corso *at Chateau Blanchefort wipes his brow relieved of the escape, content with the ring.* No fake diamonds here, expert work, exclusive design. How could any wench not want a ring like this? *starts to think to whom he could sell it to, but gets a master idea instead. He picks up one of his old clean-scraped parchments - well who would anyway want to read some monkish prayer books from the 900's? He takes his aged ink - a special recipe he came by trial and error - and starts to compile an old document telling the age-old tale of Man-Eating Dolphins*

At the Security office:

Carver *walks into town, finds a suitable spot against an alleyway wall to wait, watching the doorway of a building across the street.  Nods as he sees a figure emerge; approaches her as she reaches the sidewalk after having come down the steps*  Beg pardon, lass … I believe I am addressin’ one Commander Portsmith.  Word is out far an’ wide of yer abidin’ fondness fer fine equestrian art.  How much gold are ye willin’ to impart upon a poor pirate fer this exquisite statuette?  *reaches in pocket, reveals figurine; grins slyly as Portsmith stares at it, eyes wide*  An’ don’t bother with any snake-oil hagglin’, luv.  I know th’ item, an’ I’m well aware of its worth.  Me only question is, what’s it worth to you?

Portsmith *looks indignantly at the pirate, but her eyes lit up with greed when she sees the figurine, not recognizing it* I don't deal with pirates. If I want it I'll just confiscate it from you and throw you in the lockup with the likes of you. *looks around her to be certain that no one hears* How much? Is it gold or money you want? Stolen, I bet. I don't deal in stolen goods. I have my reputation to live up to. Get out of the street *pushes him into an alleyway where no one can see them* Well, I can offer either money or gold, as I said. What trinkets might a pirate prefer?

Carver *scowls*  Don’t be turnin’ up yer nose, lass, an’ kindly remove yer ‘ands from me person!  *pushes Portsmith’s hands away, brushes off front of coat indignantly*  I’ll ‘ave ye know this item weren’t stolen, it were obtained in a perfectly gentlemanly agreement … a swap, as it were.  It were a bargain struck between another pirate an’ meself, that much is true … but clear an’ above board, otherwise.  So ye ‘ave no grounds fer incarceratin’ me, savvy?  *leans closer*  As a matter o’ fact, it were curious, jus’ how well off this particular scallywag appears t’ be.  If ye were of a piratin’ nature, I’d be half-tempted t’ ask ye if ye’d care to join forces with me an’ return to this pirate’s abode, where we could partake o’ his treasures, obviously collected from a goodly number o’ years, an’ lands near an’ far.  A most successful plunderer he was, there be no denyin’.  *looks at Portsmith, sees from her glare that she’s not interested in his offer*  Anyway, I won’t bend yer ear with chat about a retired member o’ me trade … *glances around*  Per’aps we should repair to yer residence, where we can discuss a suitable trade in private.  What say ye?  I’m assumin’ ye live close by …

Portsmith: Not far, not far at all. Perhaps we really should discuss this matter, but not in the open. I don't want anybody to see me socializing with pirates. *impatiently* What are you waiting for then? My humble abode is waiting. *glances at him* You'd never get past my butler in that kind of clothing. But I got to say that figurine is tantalizing. Perhaps you have some more of the same quality? *Starts to walk back to the castle*

Carver:  Alas, I ‘ave no more o’ th’ same kind.  Truth be told, luv, I’m a bit skint at th’ moment.  I been replenishin’ supplies fer me ship, bracin’ up to set sail, fer a bit more … *starts to refer to plundering, stops himself* …. ahh, a bit more barterin’, as it were!  *pauses*  So ye ‘ave a butler, ay?  Now that’s very interestin’ … th’ bloke I jus’ finished barterin’ with mentioned somethin’ about a butler at his house, an’ how th’ blighter ‘ad the day off.  Quite th’ coinkydink, as th’ sayin’ goes …  *voice trails off as he sees Portsmith lead the way to Chateau Blanchefort*  Blimey!  Luv, is this yer home? 

Portsmith *looks at him sharply* Funny, my butler has his day off today... Something wrong with my castle? Now that retired pirate, what might his name be?

Carver *raises eyebrows*  'Tis a fine castle, to be sure.  Th' pirate's name be Corso, lass.  Ye 'appen to know 'im?  I'm hopin' ye do, otherwise, I reckon ye 'ave a squatter on yer premises.  *snickers*

Portsmith: Oh yes, Corso the pirate, of course, of course... *eyes narrowing with anger, but she composes herself* Retired, you say. You best not believing him, he's so far stayed away from the sea because of my respect, but, I know how great a longing he has to walk the deck once again. I think it's time for him to resume her career as a pirate. *opens the door, takes Carver to Corso's study*  He just doesn't want to admit it to me. Dean, you still there?

Corso *starts violently, he's been absorbed with forging the notes and forgot to check the monitors* Er, yes *opens the door, shrinks back when he sees Carver with Portsmith* Um... something wrong... I am a bit busy now...*tries to close the door, but Portsmith flings it open*
 

Portsmith *glares at him* I know you miss your ship, Dean. Maybe I should just release and let you go, though it is very hard for me. 

Carver *scowls*  Blast ye both!!  Ye dragged me into some sorta soap opry!!  I ‘ave no desire t’ be in th’ middle of a lover’s quarrel, savvy?  Sorry, Corso, laddie, it’d be grand ta work with ye at another time, per’aps.  This don’t bode well … I’ll leave ye both to yer deception an’ games.  *turns and leaves them alone, leaves the house.  Once outside, looks up at it, memorizes the address, smiles to himself; turns and heads back to town* 

At Deppville Hospital:

Later at the hospital, Willy stands over three small carts holding the babies, he gazes at all of them lovingly, sees Manouche and Blake come in, smiles at them*  Kim's taking a shower.  She was so excited to get in.  *laughs, goes back to gazing a the babies*  We chose godparents for Jacob.  *looks up at them again*  Lisa and Caesar.  What do you think?

Manouche:  Perfect choice!  They'll both be delighted.  *comes over to gaze at the babies.  Raven follows her, she puts a hand on his shoulder as they watch them*

Blake *looks around appreciatively*  I didn't even know this hospital had such nice rooms as these.  But, nice as they are, I'm sure you'll both be glad to get back home.  We'll be glad to stay on there, till you come home, if you want us to.  Is there anything we can do while we're there till you get back?  I suppose the oompas have it all covered, but if you think of anything, just say the word.

Willy: *shakes head* Just enjoy yourselves is all....

Madame: *comes out, drying her hair with a towel*  God I feel so much better,

Willy: *turns* I'm sure *hugs her* 

Madame: Wow it has been so long since I've actually been able to hug you... *looks into his eyes, they have that purple glow*  Or this... *kisses him deeply*

Willy: *grabs her and pulls her in close, kisses her passionately*

Manouche:  Blimey!  *covers Raven's eyes*  Ahh, since th' pair o' ye are ... comfortable ... I reckon we should be on our way ...  *she and Blake quickly guide Raven out of the room, down to the lobby, where ... *  *you guessed it!* ...

Receptionist:  Are you Manouche Blake, I was told to look for you.  I've got an urgent message for you.  *hands an envelope containing the note written by Corso: "Manouche!  I need your help urgently, Kat is getting her memory back.  Please help me.  Abberline"

Manouche *reads note, is silent for a few minutes*

Blake:  What is it?

Manouche:  It's from Inspector Abberline.  He says Kat's gettin' her memory back, an' he needs help.  *shakes her head*  Now why would he want me to help?  He knows she goes ballistic when she sees me now ...

Blake:   But if her memory's coming back, maybe she remembers now that you're her friend ... an' that's why he would call for you.

Manouche *frowns*  Aye, but ... still ... what can I do?  He should be contactin' Gili.  *thinks for a few minutes, looks at Raven*  Any take on this, lil' mate?

Raven *concentrates, then shakes his head*

Blake:  You don't have to go.  You owe him nothing.

Manouche *smiles slightly*  But Kat's me mate.  I'd be goin' to help her.  Per'aps I can help her before she does somethin' rash.

Blake *sighs*  You're goin', aren't you?  *she nods apologetically*  Well, at least let us drop you off, then I'll take Raven back to the factory.  An' we're watching from the car until we see you get in safely.

Manouche:  Agreed.  Chances are good that Sergeant Godley'll be there.  He always comes when th' Inspector's in trouble.  *sighs*  I reckon that drink'll 'ave to wait.

Blake:  I'll have it ready for you when you get back.  *they leave the hospital, get in the car, and have the driver head to Bournemouth House*