Sparrow's stare is cold and hard, but James does not flinch. He had expected as much: Sparrow was forced into it, then, he did not choose piracy of his own volition, or if he did, he was motivated by forces outside his control. There is pain in his gaze, and James cannot help but wonder what it was happened to make a young Jack Sparrow turn brigand- for he was a man who could have had a place in the world, James is sure, perhaps he once did. Perhaps his pain is regret that he lost that, or perhaps it is simple anger, a desire for revenge still with him. He looks at him for a moment, his gaze steady.

'I think, perhaps, that I have about the same chance of understanding your reasoning as you do of understanding mine, Captain. But then, since you are so sure that I will confess to you my reason for hating pirates, mayhap when I do so- if I do so- you will be able to answer me in turn, mmm?'

It's a neutral statement, though Sparrow may not take it as such, and James retracts his hand, joining its fellow clasped on the table in front of him.

'Surely,' he says absently, 'you have work to be going about, do you not? As Captain of this ship. I'll not be your first mate until I know why I ought to be, so I'll make myself comfortable in here until you decide to tell me, shall I?'