Jack was out of the room and back on the Pearl by dawn, after most of Tortuga had collapsed and before anyone had yet stirred. He made minute correction a series of maps while he waited for the rest of his crew to come stumbling onboard. After a few hours, he declared it fair to leave anyone missing behind and went to the helm to set a course for Port Royal – or more precisely for a bay just east of Port Royal. Wouldn't do to get himself caught when he only intended to sneak in for a quick visit with the children.

He hummed quietly as he guided the wheel, perfectly content for some time. Gradually he began to feel a prickling sensation between his shoulderblades, as if someone had rubbed sand into the fabric of his shirt. A glance behind him only showed the crew going about their daily work, and the eerie sensation disappeared.

It returned a few minutes later. This time he spun quickly, catching a few men averting their gazes the moment his eyes fell upon them. Jack glanced down at himself, puzzled. He seemed to be put together all right, clothes and effects and whatnot. Pirates were a rude lot in general, but they didn't stare at something they got to see everyday.

"Captain!"

He turned again to see Anamaria striding purposefully toward him. Relief won out over puzzlement; she was as sensible a person as ever he'd met and she ought to know what was going on.

"A word," she said, jerking her head in the direction of his cabin. Jack gestured to Marty.

"Take the wheel, Mr. Marty, there's a good man," he said. Marty craned his neck to gaze up at Jack, running a hand slowly over the smooth wood on the lower half of the wheel.

"Anything you say, Captain," the little man replied.

"Er, right," said Jack,confused anew by the way Marty's eyes followed him as Anamaria dragged him backwards.

She pulled him into the cabin and shut the door behind her. Jack rubbed the back of his head, feeling for a bump he might not have remembered getting. "There are strange moods afoot. I'm hoping you might have some kinda –" He suddenly found himself seized in strong arms and flung against the wall, one hand planted on either side of his head. "Explanation," he squeaked, recognizing the feral, snarling grin on the woman's face, the one she got whenever they were hunting a particularly fat prize.

"There's been a lotta talk 'bout you and I over the years," she said, tilting her head to study him with her dark eyes. "Lotta rumors, lotta innuendos."

Jack tried a winsome smile, stalling for time. "I swear I had nothin' to do with it, love."

One hand gripped his shoulder, for which he was grateful because it meant he was held up despite the buckling of his knees. The other hand had gone southward to cup him in a decidedly intimate place.

"Talk's cheap, Jack," Anamaria growled, flexing her fingers. Jack groaned despite himself; it was just this side of painful. Her kiss was much the same, all wet heat and stabbing tongue and clashing teeth. His head spun dizzily and she had to work to keep him standing upright.

Jack would be lying if he said he'd never had a thought or two about the woman currently in the process of ravishing him. But he'd long ago decided it was a bad idea to seek company among his crew, where a lover's spat might very well end in bloodshed on a hot, becalmed day.

Besides which, Anamaria was scarier than Barbossa and his monkey combined. The mere thought of bedding her was enough to make his balls try to climb up inside his body.

She was also preternaturally strong. Jack struggled against the arm pinning his wrists above his head, to no avail. Finally, when she left his mouth and began to nip sharply down his neck, he was able to croak out a weak cry for help.

"Calling uncle already, are we, Sparrow?" She pinched one nipple and he yelped.

The cabin door crashed open and a meaty hand was pulling Anamaria off. Jack braced himself against the wall, panting, as Anamaria twisted out of Gibbs' reach.

"What the devil be goin' on here?" the older man demanded.

Anamaria smirked, narrowing hungry eyes at Jack. "None o' your fool business, Joshamee. The captain an' me were havin' words."

Gibbs glanced over, catching Jack's pleading stare, and jabbed a finger in the direction of the door. "Well, y' can have 'em some other time."

As first mate, he outranked her and she was bound to follow his orders unless Jack contradicted them. Jack closed his eyes, not wanting to see the expression on her face when he declined to do so.

"Fine," she snapped. "But this ain't over, Sparrow."

Once the door was closed with a bang, Jack sighed in relief and opened his eyes to find Gibbs shaking his head in sympathy. "Women, eh?"

"I don't know what's gotten into the creature," Jack replied, crossing a wobbly path to his desk and sinking into a chair. "She was like a shark scentin' fresh blood in the water."

Gibbs chuckled, coming up behind him and clapping him on the shoulder. "Sometimes 'tis too easy to ferget that she's got needs."

Jack snorted, toying with a jade paperweight. "She can bloody well find someone else to fulfill 'em."

"Needs same as any man," Gibbs continued softly. Both hands were on Jack's shoulders now, lifting his hair to the side and kneading gently. "We all got needs, Jack."

"Of...course," said Jack uncertainly, as the pressure on his muscles grew more and more insistent. When Gibbs leaned down and took a strong whiff of his hair, Jack decided he'd had enough.

"Right then," he said, bolting up from the chair and backing quickly away. "If you'll just...relieve Marty at the helm? I have some sleep t' catch up on."

Gibbs nodded gravely. "Busy night ashore, aye? Know how that can be." He winked lewdly.

Jack stared. No one with a case of muttonchops that severe had ever come on to him before. "Aye," he finally said.

"I'll be gettin' along then," said Gibbs, and damned if he didn't sashay his hips a bit as he walked to the door. "But you jest holler if you should need an'thing, Jack." He cast one more doe-eyed look over his shoulder before leaving.

"Jesus Christ," Jack muttered, falling back into his chair. "Has my entire crew gone completely mad?"

It must be the sun, he decided. It was fierce today and it was bound to addle men's brains. They could take to the shade in the little cove off of Port Royal, while he restored his own bearings by spending some time with sane folks. Until then, he intended to barricade himself in his cabin and hope Anamaria did not regain her senses and come to vivisect him.