Jack got a large magnum of rum "to share," but both women knew all of it would end up in his stomach. Annamaria had a flask of her special drink.
"So, what´s the plan of attack when we arrive in Port-au-Prince?" Annamaria said in what she thought was a low voice. The usual brawl was occurring and while Annamaria thought she was whispering, she was really shouting.
"What?" said Jack and emptied a third of his rum bottle. He burped.
"When we arrive in Port-au-Prince, what do we do?" yelled Annamaria.
"Aye, when we get there, we´ll search the city up an´ down."
"What if Marcella- Captain Marcella isn´t there?" cried Elizabeth.
"Then we´ll search the entire Caribbean!" Jack bellowed, sneaking a look at Annamaria, who looked proud. She chugged her drink and shouted to Gibbs, "Gibbs, avast! Y´know, Gibbs, you an´ rum ain´t a remarkable match!"
At this, Gibbs put down his mug of rum and glowered into it.
"Is she. . . drunk?!" Elizabeth asked Jack, more than a hint of disgust in her voice. She thought she knew Annamaria to be a responsible lady, albeit a pirate who snuck around and kissed lovers.
"Annamaria would never get drunk, would ya, Anna?" Jack cried, slapping Annamaria on the back.
"Aye," Annamaria replied. She smirked at Gibbs. "Gibbs, you rotten scoundrel, put the rum down! We don´t want you sleeping amongst the pigs again, do we?"
"Chickens, it´ll be," Will said gloomily, making the two tables explode with laughter. Everyone knew about the story of Will waking up from unconsciousness amidst chickens.
"Rum girl! Need more rum!" yelled Jack to the waitress, who was dressed in a fluffy black skirt and tight bodice. She gave a slight nod and returned with a tankard of rum for the two tables.
Mick grinned at Jack, whose teeth were beyond any repair. They were quite mossy and brown and green at the same time. Elizabeth looked away.
"So, Jacky, ´s the deal with me an´ Layla helping ye and yer crew searching for this strumpet´s mum?" Mick said.
Annamaria said through gritted teeth, "Don´t call me that."
"Apologies, missy," Mick said, raising his stein to her. "So Jacky, same question."
Jack sighed. "I speak a little French but now we have two fluent speakers, savvy? This´l be all the more easier. Eh, Layla?"
Layla looked up from her glass of gin, which was what Will was drinking too. "Oui, Jack Sparrow!" she giggled, and hiccuped.
Will felt himself perk up a little. Especially little Will.
Gibbs was already raring to go so he placed a hand onto his lap as he said, "Liz, do you care to come with me? Need more rum." He really didn´t, he was actually quite drunk, and Annamaria would give him hell later, but he needed Elizabeth´s beautiful, succulent body.
Elizabeth struggled not to gag and said, "Certainly, Mr. Gibbs." Don´t call me Liz, no one calls me Liz.
"Dear Miss Elizabeth," said Gibbs once they were out and in the back of the Rusty Buckle. It was quiet, almost eerie.
"Yes, Mr. Gibbs?" Elizabeth said. She really felt the need to throw up.
"Call me Joshamee," Gibbs said huskily. And before Elizabeth could do anything, he pulled Elizabeth and kissed her ferociously. So maniacally, in fact, Elizabeth yelped a little. His breath reeked of alcohol and his wormy tongue delved deep into her mouth and his arms were wrapped around her torso, her breasts pressed painfully on Gibbs´ own chest. Noticing this, Elizabeth struggled to get away, but Gibbs had her in a viselike grip. He snarled in her ear, "Missy, ye ain´t getting away" and plunged his hands deep down her slip. She gasped again- he was touching her breasts, grabbing them- he was twisting her nipples, pinching- and sucking on her neck. Tears of pain rolled down her cheeks as Gibbs moved to her private skin. No one had ever been down there! What was he doing?!
"NO!" screamed Elizabeth and dug her nails into his neck. Gibbs howled and ripped his hands out of her shifts. Free, Elizabeth stared at Gibbs in horror and then ran back into the bar. A silence had fallen over the Buckle as Elizabeth, bloody and torn and bruised, shakily stepped inside. Granted, no one paid attention to her but it seemed unnaturally quiet. Elizabeth calmly went back to the two tables and said, "I´m going to have an early night." She said this in dim lighting so no one could see her ripped bodice and forming bruises.
"Where´s Gibbs?" ventured Will.
Elizabeth started to sob. Without answering, she turned on her heel and sprinted out of the tavern, down the main road, back to the docks. The Black Pearl winked at her in the bay. Elizabeth quickly rowed to the Pearl, and there, she flung herself into Jack´s quarters where she stripped naked and hid herself in his blanket. She wanted to forget. From Jack´s window, a moonbeam illuminated a teardrop on her cheek.
She woke up in her own bed. Only she was wearing the second layer of her two shifts, the one that wasn´t so drastically ripped. Though she was quite hungry, she didn´t go down to the mess hall. Gibbs would be there. Horrible bastard. Elizabeth winced.
A knock on her door. Elizabeth jumped. "May I come in?" It was Layla.
"Yes," said Elizabeth wearily. Layla, dressed in a heavy, ostentatious velvet dress that Elizabeth was not unfamiliar to, came in carrying a tray of more porridge and a flask of rum. "Sparrow pense tu aimes ta lit," Layla said slowly. "Et rhum."
"Oui," Elizabeth said, feeling foolish. She allowed Layla to give her her tray.
"Salut," breathed Layla and backed away. She closed the door on her way out.
Gibbs had smoked ten cigars and emptied his canteen a grand total of seven times. He was passed out cold as dawn drew near, so he could forget what he did.
He didn´t know what came over him. After the blood dripping down his neck had dried and he was sure his friends had left, he came out of his hiding place, and proceeded to quench his thirst for alcohol three times over. He staggered back to the docks and drunkenly rowed back to the Black Pearl. In the wee hours of the morning, he drank some more and smoked until his head was swimming. Before he slipped into unconsciousness, he thought dimly, Elizabeth, forgive me.