(AN) Hi, all! Um…Just wanted to say that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I don't really think you'd care. You guys are just happy for an update. Am I right?

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No Heroes Amongst Thieves

A Novel

By: Roux

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Chapter Three:

A Victory Drink; or When It Rains, It Pours

The room was silent, save for the light groans the Portuguese made as he lay there on the floor with Caro still standing over him, chest heaving, eyes wild, her staff still digging into his jugular, and she pressed until the man's bulbous eyes rolled back into his head. Relieved, she let her staff fall to the ground and she beside it, coughing in fits at last as she sucked in great quantities of air, her hands clutching at her throat as if the touch would soothe the painful throbbing that she seemed to feel pulsing through her every vein.

The patrons, suddenly aware of the lack of entertainment, slowly began to talk amongst themselves once more, but now there seemed to be more chatter than the typical everyday conversation. Of course, it wasn't every day a fight broke out in Luc Marchand's tavern, and it wasn't every day that a woman came back to life at the feet of Death himself, and still win the brawl. ' A woman!' they said, 'Mon dieu!' or 'What is this world coming to, that a wench could bring down a bloke the size 'o that brute, eh?' or 'Bah, I could take 'er.'

Jack regarded Gibbs for a moment, thinking. How could he benefit from all this, really? He wasn't on any sort of quest as of late, and the Navy wasn't currently on his tail, so he didn't need to weasel his way out of anything…he had simply docked that night for a long-deserved holiday. Being a pirate could get very tiring, what with all the plundering and pillaging and causing general mayhem…Besides, the crew had been getting a bit stir crazy; even the best and most devoted sailor longed for the companionship of the common man (or woman) every once in a great while; liked having solid ground under foot for a short time, just to know it was there.

He winked at Gibbs in a friendly fashion. "You all right, there?"

Gibbs looked worn out: drunk, old, and tired. The elderly man shook his head, and then said with an atypical firmness that he was done for the day and was going back to the ship, making Jack feel rather put out. All right, maybe not put out, but he was perhaps slightly disappointed.

"I've had enough excitement fer one night, Cap'n." Gibbs sighed as he set his flagon down on the table, its contents more than half full. He got up from his chair and stretched, letting out a slight 'oof' as his spine cracked. Jack leaned back in his own seat and patted the girl's hip softly, as if he were making up his mind.

"Right, then. You go on back and get some rest. I'll stay 'ere and keep all your…admirers"—he winked at the trio of girls draped over Gibbs, who giggled—"company, since yer abandonin' them in such an ungentlemanly manner!" His own girl squirmed in her place on his knee as he tightened his grip on her waist; if it was from discomfort or pleasure, or both, Jack didn't know. Though he hoped it was that last one. He loved to make people—girls, mainly—pleasurably uncomfortable. It was a weird little quirk he had practiced over the years, but what else could a jaded pirate captain without a ship have been expected to do? Knit?

The Whore (he still didn't know her name) reached back and buried her pearly hands in his thick head of hair, massaging gently.

Gibbs watched as Jack closed his eyes in contentment, rather like a purring cat rubbing against one's legs, begging to be stroked. The thought made Gibbs choke back a chuckle; he swiftly turned around to conceal his sudden jollity and began to walk as briskly as he could (he was still mighty drunk, if you please) to the stairwell, calling a farewell over his shoulder.

"Tommora, then, Jack." I would tell ye ta enjoy yerself, but it seems you have that down pat, he added mentally, not wanting to irritate his friend and commander with stupid remarks. He paused at the threshold, his head bent, and he took a swig of liquor from his little canteen. He began tramping up the stairs; back to veracity; back to the Black Pearl; and out into a world that didn't seem to care, thinking about the girl in the tavern; of his Nora; of the sea; and of his Annie.

*~*~*

As Gibbs disappeared up the stairs, Jack remained in his seat, quiet, thinking, relishing in the absolutely lovely massage he was getting. Truth be told, he was a bit anxious for the older man; Gibbs wasn't one to turn down a drink, let alone a second one. A ninth, or a tenth, maybe, but never a secondth.

Secondth?

Jack peered into the swill swishing around in his mug. What was in this stuff? Secondth…that was…different. It wasn't often that Jack Sparrow scared even himself, but this was cutting it pretty close…

Jack set his mug back down on the table.

No harm in not taking any chances, was there?

Jack's head snapped up as he remembered what he had been thinking about before Gibbs had decided to turn pansy and leave… The girl. What was he going to do? He had seen her skill with a weapon, and obviously she had a quick eye and a sharp mind. Perhaps she would be an asset to his crew…who knew? But there was always the chance that the crew would carp about having another woman on board. And besides, he thought with a chuckle, Ana-Maria almost certainly wouldn't like the fact that another female was on board…she had always been one for histrionics.

Jack's eyebrows twitched slightly as he contemplated his next move. With an exhalation of breath, he sat up, having made up his mind, and patted The Whore's hip once more. She stopped massaging his head and looked down at him curiously, recognizing the action as a decisive one.

"Where are you—" She watched him get up and questioned him haltingly in syrupy tones about where he was going, a bit miffed at his apparent disinterest in her services, ones that he had been all too engrossed with not a minute before. He bent down to eye level with her and winked, flashing his scintillating smile.

"Be right back, love."

*~*~*

Caro attempted to get up, searching the wall with her fingers for handholds, for she felt as if she couldn't stand on her own. She wobbled on her feet for a moment, but awkwardly steadied herself; as her world stopped swaying, Caro let out a pleased sigh. Her sigh soon turned to a shocked gasp, for all at once the earth was spinning much too fast, and she reeled as her vision blacked out for a second time.

"That was quite the stunt ye pulled, love."

Caro swung around at the voice, still wrapped up in her own little world, eyes wild and mouth snarling.

Jack stepped back, his hands up in the air as a sign of truce. "Whoa there, girl. Just tryin' ta lend a hand is all I'm doin'." The girl's eyes dilated and she seemed to snap out of her trance, slumping to the floor again in a bit of a daze. Shaking her head to clear it of the fog that was creeping in, she voiced the question that she had been all too prepared to ask prior to her tussle .

"And who might you be, monsieur?" She paused and coughed again, waiting patiently for a reply. Jack grinned.

"So sorry, there, love. Nearly forgot meself there for a moment." He swept off his hat and bowed a deep bow. "Captain Jack Sparrow at your service. And—"he placed his hat back on his head smartly—"whom do I 'ave the pleasure of addressing, milady?" He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. Much to his amusement, she snorted.

"Name's Caro, you charlatan you! Sorry about that bag daer…Caro, she wasn't 'erself."

His grin took on a teasing edge. "Was she now? Who was that, then, if it weren't you, Miss Caroline?"

"Ah, Captain Finch, wouldn't you like to know, eh?"

Finch?

Jack frowned.

"Finch?" he quipped, "that's a new 'un… 'least you remembered the 'Captain' part." He noticed her inquisitive face. "Why does that matter? Most people forget that me name's Captain Jack Sparrow, love."

"That so, Captain Finch? And why would that be?" The corners of her mouth pulled upwards. Jack inwardly groaned. Not another smart-arse!

"It's Captain Sparrow, not 'Finch'. Sparrow."

It was Caro's turn to hold up her hands in defense.

"All right, all right! I get it! Enough with da Finch! Now 'elp me up, you." She dangled her hands up in front of her, beaming like the cat that ate the cream. Jack found himself grinning again as he took hold of her hands and pulled Caro to her feet. He bent down as she dusted herself off and retrieved her staff; he handed it to her, and she accepted it graciously.

"Merci."

"Welcome."

Caro opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Luc lumbering over and embracing her tightly.

"Caro! You are all right! Fille stupide! What were you thinking?" He squeezed tighter and Jack could clearly hear Caro wheeze.

"Pardon me fer sayin' so, gov', but she only just started breathing again. Wouldn't it be best if we left 'er to it?"

Luc's eyes widened considerably and he released Caro, his hands flitting over her skin, looking for injury.

"My apologies, Caro!" he cried, "Did I hurt you? Oh, I am so sorry, cherie!"

"It is all right Luc, now stop your babying! I am fine! Just got my feadahs a bit ruffled up is all! Stop it!" she snapped as Luc began to prod and poke at her ribcage. "He tried to strangle me, not pound me! Luc!"

Finally, he paused. "What?"

"Merci!"—up went her hands—"mon dieu!"

Luc frowned.

"I was just trying to help, Caro. Do not be such an unthankful little—"

Caro interrupted.

"I am thankful Luc, but I am a grown woman; I can take care of myself. All right?" She patted Luc's shoulder. "All right?" she said again, this time more softly. Luc seemed to believe this, and stood away, looking rather sheepish. Caro turned, and Jack snorted as he saw her roll her eyes. Caro jumped as she remembered his presence, and made out to introduce him.

"Luc, this here is Captain Jack Swallow. Captain Swallow, Luc Marchand. There, now, we are all acquainted!" She flounced off to go check up on Cosette, who appeared to have recovered a bit and was now sitting behind the bar with a cup of tea splashed with brandy.

Jack's mouth dropped open disbelievingly; he lifted a finger to right this whole name mess, and—

Luc grabbed hold of it and pumped his hand up and down enthusiastically. "The pleasure is all mine, Capitaine Swallow! Strange name…Would you care for a drink?"

Jack paused.

Perhaps that whole name thing didn't quite matter right now…

He swept away after Luc.

"I might take you up on that drink, sir, a sailor needs to keep up his strength; rescuing damsels in distress makes a man thirst for…" He trailed off.

In front of him stood the whore, looking rather testy. Actually, murderous was probably more the word for it, as her hands were balled into angry little fists at her sides, hunching her shoulders, and her face was as stormy and contorted as the sky during the worst typhoon.

"And where do you theenk you are going, monsieur?" She took a step closer, and Jack felt himself being backed into a corner by a woman for the second time in less than ten minutes, and he wasn't at all happy about it…

"Look, love, you're beautiful, you really are, and there isn't anything I'd like to do more than to, erm, make use of your talents," Jack's moustache twitched exasperatedly, "but I've other 'portent business to attend to, really I do." He tipped his hat and pivoted on his heel to run off in the other direction, but she grabbed hold of his coattails and tugged sharply, nearly causing Jack to overbalance uncharacteristically. He cringed as he righted himself, and he turned to face his former…charge.

"Calm down now, m'dear, that was uncalled fo—"

Jack stopped as a hand clamped onto his left shoulder, and again, his hand flew to his pistol, ready to shoot whatever and whenever necessary. Before he could draw, however, the hand twisted around and the figure came out from behind Jack to face the whore.

Jack's grip on his weapon loosened.

The whore's jaw dropped.

There Caro stood, the top buttons of her shirt undone, the cloth rolled down over her shoulders to show Caro's soft cinnamon skin and to flaunt her slightly-less-than-ample cleavage. Jack also noticed that she had traded her boots and breeches for a pair of dainty shoes and a full, scarlet skirt, and her face was delicately painted with red rouge and dark eye-paint, unlike Tempeste's heavily layered greasepaint. His mind focused as the whore spoke bitingly.

"Jack? Who is this?"

Caro smiled dangerously, her tone sharp.

"What are you doing, Tempeste? You tryin' ta steal my work from me?"

"What work?" The younger woman all but growled.

"'E's mine tonight, chere. Popped 'im off in da back room; he owes me ten."

Tempeste abandoned her tirade for a moment and gaped.

"Ten?"

Caro turned and ran her hands up Jack's chest, and then further upwards to play with his braided goatee. Jack was confused, as well as thirsty, and very much hot and bothered, but Caro winked at him, and suddenly he understood. He nodded slightly and wrapped an arm around Caro's shoulders as she twirled seductively to face forward once more, stroking his other hand across her smooth, bare collarbone.

"Yeah. I owe her love."

Caro's voice was mockingly serious. "Oui. He owes me, love." She winked hugely at Tempeste, who in turn lunged and attempted to gouge Caro's eyes out with her nails; Caro grabbed her wrists and twisted them away from her, fighting against the all-but-legendary madness that Tempeste was prone to.

"Don't hiss at me you cat! Sheathe your claws, do not show them to me," Caro ordered as she shoved Tempeste back, who was lead away by a few of Luc's clerks that spoke to her in soothing tones, wanting, with good reason, to calm her down. Just as they began to climb the wooden staircase to return to the outside world, Tempeste managed to break free of her captor's grip and dash back down the stairs. She stopped right in front of Caro and pointed a dirty, slender forefinger in her passive face.

"No one shall relieve me of my job 'till I say so, or so I die! You'll pay for zis, you coonass!"

Caro inquiringly pointed a finger at herself. "Moi? Not dis Cajun, chere!" She moved her hand to flutter above her head in a merry farewell. "Goodbye, ya damnable Frog!"

"You worthless bitch! Why would he want you when he could have had me? 'E was mine! Mine! MINE!"

She screamed out those last words as the clerks escorted her out of the tavern. Caro's hand dropped down to her side as she poked Jack's arm idly.

"You lucky, homme."

"Oh? And why is that?" He looked down and watched Caro's done-up face merrily watch his. She poked his nose this time and spoke again, using the hem of her skirt to wipe away the grease on her face.

"Because once Tempeste wraps her legs 'round you she don't never let go." Caro paused in her cleaning. "A bit possessive, that girl, eh?"

Jack shook his head, his beads and trinkets jingling with the swinging motion. "I've seen worse."

"Really, now?"

"Of course. Would I lie to ya?"

"Dat remains to be seen, Bra."

"Oh? And what is that supposed ta mean?"

Caro nodded her head in the direction of the pub's entrance as if to prove a point.

"What? I didn't catch that."

Caro sighed.

"You lied to her. Why wouldn't you lie to me?"

"Point taken."

There was a moment of silence between them, the hubbub of the bar filling in the quiet holes in the conversation.

"I t'ink I need a beer."

Oh. Glorious beer…

"You still owe me that rum, ya know. Could drink that."

Caro's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You'd share?"

Jack considered this for a moment, and then shook his head.

"Nah. You'd have ta fend for yerself, there. It's every man—or woman—fer 'im—no, her—oh, shite—themselves , if ya get my meanin'. "

"Bastard."

"Pirate," Jack hummed as he rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Well?" Caro stepped in front of him and leaned forward so that she was nose to nose with the good Captain, who, surprised, nearly stumbled back. That was his move!

"Well what?" snipped Jack, irritated. He was thirsty, dammit! The saucy wench would do good to get out of his way so that he—

"Are ya gonna 'ave your victory drink? Or shall I drink it for you? It would be no trouble, honestly…" Her eyes twinkled playfully.

Ah.

"Now," said a pleased Jack, "yer speakin' me language."