Notes: I was unsure of what to rate it but I hope I made the right choice. Took me ages to work out how to upload, ah well...let's hope it was worth the wait. I'm working on another Fable story but this one sort of over took it. Also, there will be some Speaver in this story (no, not a mutant beaver, means Sparrow/Reaver). Enjoy x

DISCLAIMER - I DO NOT OWN FABLE 2 OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!!! I ONLY OWN THE PLOT OF THIS FANFICTION AND MY VERSION OF SPARROW. (Though i would love to own Reaver.)

Chapter One: Approaching the pirate

Bloodstone was among the vilest of towns. No matter what time of day you arrived, a dark cloud seemed to forever loom over the criminal infested port. The narrow streets homed shabby buildings and dingy stalls, all over looked by that dreary manor on the hill. Prostitutes of both genders seemed to lurk in every corner, revealing themselves to passersby, trying to charm gold out of them in exchange for some 'excitement'.

Drunken pirates staggered by down near the waterfront, shouting insults at various locals who stood waiting for their mayor's return. However, one drunken man turned his attention to a cloaked figure passing by. He could tell she was a woman by the shape of her body, slim hips, and the way she walked. Elegance surrounded the stranger, she certainly didn't belong. "Oi girly," the man called to her. She stopped and turned slightly, "Fancy a bit of rough and tumble wit' ol' Geordie?"

She carried on walking, ignoring the other drunken men's wolf whistles and cooing. She did not bother herself with a response, she was known for her little words. Oh, how she hated Bloodstone! Not only because of the rowdy and unethical inhabitants, but that cold atmosphere which haunted the port. Among the scent of salty air was the smell of death, the stench of despair. How much innocence had been lost here, in every sense of the word? How many souls have shattered in this place, never to be the same again?

She stood at the edge of the waterfront, blending in with a crowd of villagers, eagerly waiting for their leader's return. Many of the town tarts were now hurriedly whispering among each other, each sentence seemed to end in a fit of giggles. Sparrow turned her attention to the ship being docked. Her eyebrow rose in disbelief. Bit shabby for Reaver's taste, she thought, scanning the pirate's new ship. He had obviously run into trouble coming back. She noticed several dents on the left side, and the mast seemed slightly scorched.

Reaver was one of the most difficult individuals she had ever dealt with. As she watched him, leaning over the side, that obnoxious smirk on his face, her mind wandered back. She remembered being excited when Hammer and she went into discussion about him in Brightwood. The very thought brought mirth to her; she smiled to herself, how stupid she had been. Oh, the longing she had to meet someone who knew the joy of holding a pistol between their fingers, the smooth metal brushing against their skin. The vibrations it gave when you pulled the trigger, the bliss of the shot. All that slipped away when she had walked into that man's study a year and a half ago.

Instead she met a man whose heart seemed to be ice. The arrogance, the vanity, the selfishness! He, a pirate she had never even heard of, dared call her 'nobody'. The countless slaves she had rescued, the amount of human lives she had saved. She could have wiped out Albion with a glance, bring fear to people's hearts. But she choose the path of righteousness. Ten years she spent, in that spire. The sounds of the sobbing men would never be washed away. The sounds of broken souls, slowly going insane within the growing walls...

She shuddered as it passed her mind; the pain of the spire had never truly left her. Yet, they were spared, they were saved. Her eyes focused again on Reaver, who still was leaning over the side, watching while his fellow crew members heaved the 'merchandise' they had 'acquired' on their journey. She watched him, hatred embedded within her stare. How could he live with himself?

Every day she was tortured by the choice she took, the sacrifice she had made. By allowing so many to live, she had actually allowed Rose to remain dead. And Charlie, her faithful companion, who was forever by her side now lay to rest in Bower Lake. As she stared at Reaver, one word seemed to echo in her mind, BARNUM! A man she called friend, a man she was partnered in business with. Murdered in cold blood in front of her very eyes, he was not even given a chance. By that man, the third hero, her future ally...

Why was she about to save the life of a man she hated?

It was only fair, part of her argued. She would have been defeated by Lucien without him. In fact, technically he was the one to kill Lucien. He was her ally, it seemed only fair that if she knew his life was in danger she would at least warn him. But part of her wanted to leave, leave him be and pray the assassin misses. She remembered the last time she had contact with Reaver, four months ago if she recalled correctly. She received a letter, inviting her to one of his parties; she was 'guest of honour'. She replied by telling him where he could insert his invite, luckily he never replied back.

Her left hand itched, millimetres away from her belt. You could save the assassin the job, a small voice whispered, you could do it. Avenge Barnum! Her left hand shook as it gripped around the pistol, her eyes looking straight ahead. The voice was right, she could end it. She removed the pistol; she could kill the man responsible for the deaths of possibly thousands of innocents. She could avenge Barnum, it would be quick, she was a good shot. She could end his eternal life with just pulling the trigger.

But she was forgetting one thing, she was Sparrow. She attached the gun back onto her belt, she was a hero. It was her job to save lives, even the lives that did not deserve to be saved. So she watched Reaver leave his ship. His dark hair was blown back as he faced the wind; his handsome features seemed as radiant as ever. Two girls beside Sparrow swooned at the sight of him, yet Sparrow stood unmoved. She was never fazed by his beauty, even when she first met him. She ignored all suggestive marks he made; she always sensed he was never to be trusted.

Remember that girl, the voice taunted her, Remember that innocent girl he forced you to sacrifice, remember how she cried. Another reason for hating Reaver. Sparrow remember how she feared losing her strength, her youth. An advantage Lucien could gain how he would be able to crush her. The taunting voice played a major role in that event. Sparrow remembered placing the seal in the girl's hands, the fear in her eyes. How Sparrow mouthed her apology and stood back, letting the shadows rob the girl of her youth. How she screamed for her parents, nothing could ever justify her choice.

"Enough," Sparrow murmured to herself, as she cast her eyes around her, scanning the dreary landscape for any sign of the assassin. Her eyes caught sight on someone, hidden behind a crowd of drunken pirates who had just exited The Leper's Arms. He was tall, wearing a black bandana wrapped around his head. His clothes were dark, he blended well. His gaze was fixated on Reaver, who was walking up the stone steps beside her. At first she suspected him to be another lustful Bloodstoner but then she noticed his hand was wrapped around a pistol similar to hers.

Reaver was now making his way to the civilians, oblivious to the fact he could die within minutes. He passed her, the scent of exotic spices travelled with him. He glanced towards her for a second, noticing she was not local but was soon distracted by the cooing of one of the town tarts. Sparrow smiled under her cloak; thankfully he had not recognised her.

She walked along the waterfront, her eyes never leaving the suspected assassin. She seemed to weave in and out of sight among the crowds, so not to draw attention to herself. Her blue orbs never left the man, who seemed too preoccupied watching Reaver. She gripped her pistol tighter, keeping it concealed under her cloak. She moved closer, but not too close. She did not wish to have any contact with Reaver what so ever. She was using all her will power not to kill him herself.

The assassin had positioned himself well. He was well out of range to be shot, using those around him as a shield. Any attempt to shoot him would most likely end in tragedy for those around him. She cursed the coward under her breath, and then glanced back at Reaver who was flaunting himself foolishly. In a way he deserved to be shot.

The assassin had seen his advantage, and raised the pistol. No-one around had noticed, all too distracted by Reaver. She looked around helplessly; there was no time to warn the thief. With little hesitation and much haste, she regrettably flung herself upon the pirate, knocking him to the ground. The shot was fired and she could feel the bullet pass by her, missing by inches. The heat of the air trailing behind that tiny piece of metal mentally scorched her.

The cloak slipped down, her flaxen hair fell from the hood. Her eyes met Reaver's; his dark eyes looked up at her in confusion for a moment. When realisation hit him, a small smirk played on his lips, "Why Sparrow, long time no see my dear. I must say, there was no need to pin me down, I am willing you know."

"Oh, shut up you fool!" she snapped, the crowd had now scattered. Screaming and shouting echoed the port. She lifted herself off of Reaver, and took a shot towards the assassin. She missed, and the assassin's laughter blended with the screams.

"The great Sparrow," he sneered, his eyes following the woman, now without her hood. "I should have known you would have turned up. Well, two birds with one stone." He fired his pistol; she flung herself sideways in order to dodge the speeding bullet. Again, she took her best shot and missed. Anger arose in her chest; her skill was the most practiced of all her abilities.

She raised her Master Katana and lunged towards the assassin, slicing him between the shoulder blades. He cried out in pain, blood splashed upon the cobble road. In anger, the assassin smacked her with his fist, knocking her to the ground. The pistol flew out of her hand over the edge and with a splash landed within the murky water below.

"Damn!" snarled Sparrow then turned to the hero of skill who stood watching the battle with slight amusement. "Reaver, are you the hero of skill or not!? JUST SHOOT HIM!"

The assassin turned towards the pirate, "Forgot about you for a second, mind waiting there a minute while I finish her off?"

Reaver waved his hand towards her, "Be my guest, though I must warn you she can be vivacious when she wants to."

Sparrow raised herself with much haste, and kicked the assassin while he was off his guard. He lost balance and fell, disarming him from his pistol as it fell on the cobbled road. She picked the pistol up and shot, this time she did not miss. The assassin shuddered for a second, his eyes wide with disbelief but then went limp.

"He cannot say I didn't warn him," Reaver commented from behind her.

Sparrow stood staring at the body for a second, then turned to Reaver who stood watching the scene behind her. She took a step towards him, wanting to cause him as much pain as possible then stopped herself halfway through the violent thoughts. "Well that's over," then sarcastically added, "Thank you so much Reaver for your help!"

She brushed her fingers against her bloody and swollen lip, her eyes never leaving Reaver, trying to express as much hate through her stare as possible. He merely smirked, "Too entertaining for me to participate," he raised his eyebrow, "I must say though, I am surprised you're here my dear. This must be the second time you have trudged through Wraithmarsh just to see me."

Her hand curled into a fist in frustration, "I'm not here for a social call Reaver! I'm regrettably here saving your ungrateful hide from assassination when actually I should have just left the assassin to his job!"

Reaver opened his mouth to reply but a false lofty voice cooed, "Oh Reaver!" Out of one of the narrow streets, a scantily dressed female approached them. Her long black locks curled around her heart-shaped face, shadowing her dark makeup. "I've 'ad this terrible ache 'ere eva since you left," the prostitute walked forward, placing her hand over her heart and winked, "Maybe you would be able to kiss it betta."

"Well," Reaver turned away from Sparrow, and walked to meet the prostitute, "We are going to have to sort that out. What sort of gentlemen would leave a gorgeous lady in pain?" He heard Sparrow mutter something behind him. "I apologize Sparrow, maybe you would like to-"he turned around to see the shape of the young woman disappearing towards Wraithmarsh.