Disclaimer: Not mine, except for Gwen and few o' the crew, savvy?

Chapter 8: ...And a Bottle of Rum

'Captain Black Bill Jacobs was a pirate of average repute in life, not

particularly envied or dreaded, but in death his tale drew the

covetous attention of many a pirate. He had, by rumor, enjoyed the

most wildly successful voyage of his entire career, a crusade of

terror including the pillaging of eight seaside towns and twelve

merchant vessels, within a few months' space, nearly forty years ago.

'According to the stories, he and his men had crossed paths with a

fellow pirate ship as they were heading toward Tortuga to spend their

profits. Both ships had eyed the other, and they had approached ready

to attack, but found themselves laughing when both captains raised

their 'Rogers at nearly the same time. The other captain, another

minor-scale pirate whose name got lost in the many re-tellings

of the tale and his men were the last to see the captain and crew

of the Neptune's Lady before it was cursed, according to the

most popular versions of the tale.

'Nearly a month after that chance meeting, Captain Jacobs was seen

briefly by a few in Tortuga, seemingly alone on the small ship Neptune's Lady.

He bought himself a few drinks in a tavern, muttering audibly about a

"curse," which others presumed had already claimed his crew. A man

who knew him well had tried to detain him, and asked him of the sudden

poor turn of luck after his great success and of the whereabouts of

his crew and treasure. But the captain had said distractedly that his

treasures were to be hidden safely away, and insisted that he must

leave, because of the curse that had killed the crew. He had left,

alone, in his forsaken ship and had never been seen again; the unknown

curse had killed his crew at high sea and finally returned to claim

him.

'His treasure, his hoard of five months' plunder, had never been found,

whether he had indeed managed to ferret it away somewhere or whether

it was lost to Davy Jones' Locker. And besides, it was assumed that

the source of the deadly curse lay somewhere in that treasure hoard,

waiting for a new victim.'

~The Demise of Bill Jacobs, a popular legend told and retold in pubs

as well as a favorite bedtime tale for adventure-loving children.

After an afternoon and evening spent in all manner of conversation and parlor-games with Jack and his wonderful friends, Gwen found that her mental impression of the "easygoing but hedonistic Captain Sparrow" had eased subtly to "personable scallywag Jack."

Will Turner she found pleasant enough, but truly spent more time with Elizabeth. After a restful night's sleep in the comfort of a borrowed bed (a welcome respite after several nights on a borrowed rug), Gwen spent most of the following day with Elizabeth while the two men occupied themselves otherwise.

Gwen found Elizabeth very much to her liking. The married woman was scarcely a year older than she and could relate to her. Gwen thoroughly enjoyed the pleasure of her company and felt that they were rapidly becoming close friends. Elizabeth was kind and compassionate, but possessed of a keen wit and also quite headstrong. She loved her husband and was fond of Jack but wasn't shy in pointing out the faults in either. Granted that Jack, not her beloved spouse, was the subject of the heaping majority of her criticisms. Then again, Jack also eagerly confessed most all of the vices and sins she diagnosed in him.

Elizabeth generously gave her a few simple dresses from her own wardrobe. Gwen was a bit scrawny compared to Elizabeth's lovely curves, but the two were of nearly the same height and the dresses fit well enough.

Jack had made arrangements to rendezvous with the Black Pearl at dusk of the day after their arrival in Port Royal. The Turners packed a single large bag between them and Jack didn't argue. Gwen would be going with them, as a matter of her own choice, because she now had no one and nowhere to belong, and because it felt safer staying with known dangers and people rather than the unknown. The Turners didn't argue.

So dusk on the second day found the four of them rowing toward the black hulk waiting in the twilight at the edge of the bay. Once they were on board, the crew seemed pleased to see the Turners but confused by Gwen's presence. Jack explained only briefly that there had been a change of plans.

While the Turners were settled into a small room with a makeshift bed on the level just below deck, Jack gave orders for the ship to move out to open sea.

"Ah! There she is," Jack said to his first mate, sounding quite pleased. He stood at the helm, looking up at the sky.

Gibbs followed his gaze to the North Star. "Aye, Cap'n," he said amiably. "It's been a bit too cloudy of late to see her."

"A good luck omen, perhaps, Gibbs? She comes back to smile us into Tortuga."

"Tortuga," Gibbs repeated with a grin. His smile quickly turned to a look of reproof. "There'll be no good luck, mark my words, Cap'n, what with bringing that woman back on board, and another'n to boot."

"Elizabeth doesn't count, yeh see?" Jack said impishly, fluttering a hand dismissively. "She's married. One flesh and all with 'er husband, a man, right? And the other one," he flung his arms out in a shrug, "well, she's good luck."

"No such thing as a good luck woman," Gibbs said warningly to the retreating shadow that was the captain. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the ship and its course.

Gwen and Elizabeth had been visiting together in a large room, furnished most notably with a long, polished wooden table, at the stern of the ship, beside the captain's quarters. After hearing Gwen's unfortunate tale, including how she had ended up in Jack's custody, and discussing her future prospects briefly, Elizabeth had regaled her with a fascinating tale of a "Captain Barbossa" and how he had forced her to dine with him in the very room where they now sat. With a promise to tell her more of the Black Pearl and her former captain and her current captain and the adventure she had had with them, Elizabeth finally took leave of Gwen rather late in the evening.

Elizabeth went straight below decks to dine with her husband. But Gwen wasn't sure what to do with herself. She was no longer a captive on board the Black Pearl, she was a guest. But then again, she had been treated rather like she had been a guest of the captain anyway. Finally, she went next door to the captain's cabin and knocked.

"I wondered where ye were, lass," Jack said when he opened the door.

"I-" Gwen said awkwardly as she allowed herself to be ushered inside for her meal.

Jack shut the door and leaned against it. "We need to talk. Ye still owe me, lass," he said with his trademark gilt grin. "Until you can buy your freedom, you still belong to me."

Gwen frowned. "Will said-" she began.

"That pup's not the captain, now, is 'e?"

"I don't have any-" she began to remind him, but he interrupted her.

"I've a plan," he said simply. But try as she might, she couldn't get him to share any more information about what this plan might be.

According to Captain Sparrow's orders, the Black Pearl would remain docked in Tortuga for three days. On the fourth morning, they would depart on a venture after "a very particular treasure," as he told his crew. Three days gave the men time to get thoroughly plastered; sleep it off; restock the ship with food, supplies, and more drink; get thoroughly plastered again; sleep it off; and leave port.

Gwen chose to spend the first evening on the ship, along with Will, who had seen Tortuga and didn't care much for it, and Elizabeth, who didn't care much for the abundance of vile drink in the hedonistic town, as well as the four unfortunate men who drew the short straws and got pinned with patrolling the ship that night.

After telling her more still about the Black Pearl's now-lifted curse and the insanity and genius of Captain Sparrow, the Turners bid Gwen good night long past dark. She assured them she would be fine, when they seemed confused that she didn't follow them below decks. She turned to peer with some interest up at the stars, until the Turners had disappeared below decks.

When they were gone, she dropped the facade and went to the captain's cabin. She didn't want to admit it aloud, but she was hoping to talk to Captain Sparrow this evening, as usual. Surely he would return soon. She wanted to get more information about what his plan was for her to pay him back... and she was starting to have a wild thought. She wondered if... he might let her pay it back with service to the ship.

Gwen waited for a quarter of an hour or so with no sign of Jack. A sudden crazy curiosity crossed her mind and she opened the desk drawer she'd seen him hide a bottle of rum inside just the evening before. Listening carefully to make sure she didn't hear the captain's boots approaching the door, she drew a big gulp of the amber liquid into her mouth and quickly replaced the bottle where she'd found it. She swallowed the rum and then gasped, her eyes bulging. She shuddered. But the shock of the alcohol quickly melted into the curious but pleasant buzz a couple of shots will easily bring to a flyweight. She felt good.

The rum attached itself straightaway to her wild idea of temporarily joining the Black Pearl's crew. The rum convinced her it was a very good idea, indeed. These pirates were just misunderstood people. Just like herself. It made perfect sense, didn't it? The Turners seemed like very nice, respectable folks, and they liked the pirate captain. The Turners seemed to be even more evidence that this was actually a pretty fortunate place for Gwen to have found. Gwen was more convinced than ever that she could fit in here. The rum believed she could fit in, anyway. At least until she could come up with a different plan.

The rum was tired, though. She sat on the corner of the bed and hoped that the captain would come back soon, so she could talk to him about her proposition before the rum's courage wore off.

Jack pulled himself over the rail onto his ship and wobbled as he set his feet under him. He had taken a few steps toward his quarters when his sense of balance languidly informed him that he was listing much too far to his starboard. "Yo ho," he mumbled merrily to himself as he tried again to align himself in the proper standing posture, perpendicular to the deck. But he overcompensated and fell sideways.

"Yo ho," he sang softly, hoping it might set him on his feet again like a magic spell.

"Oy, Cap'n, up ye goes," came a voice from the dark, complete with a pair of arms. Another set of arms assisted the first and then he found himself standing between two of his crewman, who were soberly guarding his ship from unwelcome boarders.

"Yo ho," he told them cheerfully.

"Sounds like yeh've had more'n just a bit, Cap'n," the second man said as they walked him towards his cabin.

"Aye, that's the one!" he exulted. "Rummmmm!" he sang. "Drink up, me rum... Yo hearties..."

The two crewmen grinned at each other and stood the captain in front of his door. "Here ye are, Cap'n," the first said, patting him lightly on the shoulder.

"A bot'l o'... a bot'l of each o' yeh... rum," he thanked them, and let himself into his cabin.

He shut the door behind him and threw a sweeping glance into the shadows of the small room. There was a heap in his bed. What...? Oh, the girl.

"Really... BAD eggs," he murmured as he set his hat lovingly on his desk and pulled off his coat.

As he removed his belt and sword and pistol, he noticed a lump under the blankets on his bed. Ah yes, it was the Web... Weav... well, the lass. He sat down and with great difficulty managed to hunt down his feet to get his boots off. He tugged his shirt over his head and pulled off the sash wrapped round his waist.

As he stood waveringly, he caught a snake creeping over his shoulder. "Yo ho," he muttered as he examined it in the wane light. The snake turned into a harmless braid of hair at his magic words.

Jack, wearing naught but his trousers, hurried to climb under the covers of his warm bed. He sank into the soft blankets and snuggled against the soft curves. Bloody hell! There was a woman in his bed!

The woman groaned sleepily and rolled over, pillowing her head against his shoulder.

A man would never feel unwanted in Tortuga, that was the truth. Jack embraced his surprise bed-companion and let the alcohol and weariness waft him away to sleep.