Chapter Two: The Fraud

Ten years later…

Shore leave on the streets of Tortuga was always a festive event.

"YO HO! A PIRATE'S LIFE FOR ME!" it is a rare and terrible thing to hear a baritone that can still screech like a soprano, but Captain Jack Sparrow managed it just fine. "WE PILLAGE! WE PLUNDER! WE RIFLE! AND…hummm…woossaname? How's it go? Bloody hell," he murmured loudly, throwing his head back to take a long swig from the bottle in his hand, pinkie and ring finger flared daintily up. "Giii-aa-iibs," his whine pierced the ears of his first mate, who was standing right next to him, trying not to appear too irritated. Jack blinked wide kohl-rimmed eyes at him, as if only realizing he was there, "Hello Gibbs-me-mate! I was just wonderin', how's that song go 'gain? Ye know the one! The one I'm always singin'," to demonstrate Jack inhaled a mighty breath and practically belched, "YO HO! A PIRATE'S LI-oh here 'tis."

Abruptly, he turned ninety degrees and swaggered down an alleyway littered with debris and the occasional unconscious sailor. The three members of his crew that were trailing him clumsily stepped and bumped into each other as they attempted to follow suit. Gibbs eyed the alley distrustfully before jogging up to the side of his captain, "Jack-," he caught a sharp glare from Jack that motioned to the crewmembers behind them. "Cap'n," Gibbs quickly rectified, while Jack and Gibbs were friends enough to drop the formalities, it always paid to keep a certain persona among one's crew, especially if they were pirates. "Permission to speak bluntly?"

"Permission grant'd, Mr. Gibbs, not like ye not havin' me permission has ever stopp'd ye talkin' before," Jack slurred this last bit into his bottle before taking another gulp of what could loosely be termed cider, in that one time there must have been apples in it.

"Well, seems to me Old Buckman has gone lost his marbles. I means, he was always on the daft side o' things," reasoned Gibbs. "But this! Come on Cap'n, ye start spreadin' the word that ye on the prowl for ghosts," Gibbs dropped his voice to his feet when he said this unlucky word, spitting over his right shoulder, narrowly missing a prostitute and customer taking care of business against a brick wall. "Then here comes Old Buckman that very night, swearin' up and down he knows just the lady ye need," Gibbs noticed Jack's eyebrows shoot up under his hat, "And not in the usual sense that a bloke be needin' a lady."

"Ask and ye shall receive, mate," clasping his ringed fingers and dirty palms together, Jack gazed heavenward, not so subtlety stifling a laugh.

"Ye ask me, Buckman's just pulling yer wank. I think he be a desperate old loon what need'd to make some quick cash."

"If that be the case, Mr. Gibbs, me schedule is such," Jack over pronounced the sch in schedule, nonchalantly examining his filthy fingernails, "that I can remain in Tortuga til' I finds the rat, sees that me money is refund'd, and hangs him in the square a few days, til' he learns his lesson about cheatin' Captain Jack Sparrow." His lips sought the drink again, but sadly discovered the bottle empty. Tossing it over his shoulder, ignoring the bump and moan as it found a living target, Jack gestured to a rundown pub with a rickety sign that read in fading letters, "The Siren's Drink". A busty woman-fish was painted winking lewdly upon the door. "First let's be makin' sure none o' that will be necessary," an immeasurable amount of slurs went into that last word.

Jack took one more eager glance at the rotting building before bursting through the door like a king, Gibbs and the others following.

The pub was visited by a handful of ancient pirates, too damned old to be of any use on a ship, too full of ocean to be any use on land. They didn't give Jack a second glance, returning to moping over their drinks.

A curvy barmaid took notice, "What ye gents be havin'?" she asked without looking up from the glass she was polishing with a dirty rag.

Jack flourished an arm in the general direction of a wobbly table by the door. Immediately, his three anonymous crewmembers sat and outwardly appeared to be relaxed and lounging. Closer examination would find their eyes sharp and watchful.

"Me men'll be havin' beer," there were some disgruntled comments from the threesome, but a quirked eyebrow from Captain Sparrow silenced them. Sauntering, in his seductive sway up to the bar, Jack steepled his decorated hands together, mock bowing his head, "Meself would greatly 'ppreciate a bottle o' rum if ye please, much obliged if ye got the spiced from New Orlawns, do ye luv?"

"Rum's local, everything's local."

"Well then I'll have to make do, wo'n I?" he spoke over his shoulder to Gibbs, never taking his suggestive eyes from the blonde barmaid, "Gibbs? What for ye?"

"Whiskey, please lass," Gibbs tried to smile charmingly, resembling a filthy jack-o-lantern.

She scrutinized them for a few moments, glowering at Jack, then Gibbs, to the three by the door, back to Jack again, "Show me the money up front o' ye no get a sip!"

"Ye wounds me deep, lass, ye wounds me deep," Jack grumbled while he snatched a leather sack from the depths of his weather beaten jacket, loosened it, and spilled the coins, clattering on the counter.

Her eyes flickered over the shiny circles of metal and nodded gruffly. She made to turn, but Jack cleared his throat, "I also be in the market for a medium, much obliged if ye got any of them lying abouts," Jack smirked.

The barmaid stared blankly at him for the briefest moment, before realization lit her pretty face, "Aaaah! Yer want that mad loony do'n ye? I was wonderin' what brings the likes o' ye here," she took the money from the counter and added quickly, "No offense meant o' course."

"O' course," conceded Jack.

"Crazy Bianca lives upstairs, I'll go fetch her. Ye sirs take a seat, yer drinks and yer," she stifled a giggle, "medium will be 'round soon."

Pleased with himself, Jack took in a greedy eyeful of the barmaid's generous rump while she retreated to the back door that led upstairs. Gibbs already found a stained table and unceremoniously flopped down in a noisy chair. Jack gave him a daft grin, which Gibbs knew was pure hogwash, Sparrow's eyes remained clever as ever, "See? No need to be makin' an exampl' out o' Old Buckman, man made good." Jack sat next to Gibbs.

"Doesn't mean she's the real thing Jack," they were alone enough to be chummy, "the wench there call'd her crazy."

"I'm crazy mate," Jack set a graceful hand upon his chest, "And I'm real enough." Of course, Jack considered both these statements to be compliments.

The barmaid reentered, and bustled about the pirate's order of drinks. It seemed she deliberately brought the beer to Jack's men by the door, which was a nautical breech of protocol, but seeing how they were on land, Jack decided to keep this to himself.

"Yer whiskey sir," she served Gibbs next. Jack felt his pride bristle, "And yer rum sir." The bottle was lowered dangling in front of Jack's face, but he didn't reach for it.

"That would be Cap'n, luv."

Rolling her eyes, she sighed heavily, "Yer rum then, Captain."

Jack still made no move to remove it from her grasp, instead smiling as genuine as a gold-toothed smile can be, "That would be Cap'n Sparrow, luv."

He was immensely flattered with the little gasp she made, "Cap'n Jack Sparrow?"

Ignoring her question, Jack waved grandly at the bottle she held, "Still cork'd woman," Jack propped his hand to cup is chin, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "What am I paying ye for?"

Promptly, the barmaid took the cork in her white teeth, tugged roughly, and with a satisfying pop, opened the bottle. She spat the cork out several feet before it fell to the floor. "Yer rum, Cap'n Sparrow," she spoke sweetly this time.

Jack couldn't help himself, he began to chuckle and Gibbs joined in. "Oh I'm liking this one, Mister Gibbs!" Finally, he took the bottle and wasted no time gulping a few mouthfuls of cheap rum, followed by an audible groan of appreciation, "That'll put hair on yer chest, eh?"

"Madam Bianca," the barmaid bit her tongue on commenting further, settling on rolling her eyes again, "will be with you shortly."

"Wait a second now me dear," his hand shot out, wrapping itself around her shapely waist. She jumped in surprise when she was pulled closer to the pirate captain. Endearingly, Jack rested his whiskered chin against her corseted stomach, tilting his head back to peer innocently up at her from his seat. "I'm also in the market for some friendly company tonight, ye bonnie gel. What's ye say after, me meeting with this spook woman, ye and me have a right tumble, eh? How's that sound now?"

Her eyes widened and mouth gaped, but Jack interrupted her, "I know, I know, show the money up front." The leather pouch was in Jack's free hand again and he shook it, letting the coins jingle musically, then pushed it into her hand, raised above his head, awkwardly avoiding touching him. Jack realized this wasn't very flattering for a lady-killer such as himself. "Stands to reason lass, that since I show'd ye mine up front, ye makes things even 'tween us and show me some o' yers…" those talented fingers of his danced en route up her arm, crawling to a halt where strap became sleeve upon her enticing shoulder. Jack hooked one finger under the fabric, gradually pulling it down, leisurely exposing the rosy skin underneath.

His leather sack of coins was quite a shock when she spiked it with all her might right between his eyes. "Get off me, ye bloomin' pirate!" the barmaid shoved him away, nearly knocking Jack out of his chair. "This is a PUB, me good Cap'n, not a brothel!" she spat at him, her face bright red, several of the regulars peered up from their sorrows to see a familiar show. "Ye want a drink! Ye's come to me. Ye want a fuck! Ye's goes out into the street and spits, there'll be a whore! The cities thick with 'em! Go be groping 'em harlots, not the likes o' me, ye pig! I'm a decent gel I am, savvy!" she shouted, storming off through the back door, her angry footsteps stomping upstairs.

"Did ye hear that?" Jack moped, lip pouting out childishly, "She 'savvy'-ed me! ME!" A few muted snickers came from the first mate by his side, "Ah for Christ's sake Gibbs, quit holdin' it in! Yer always sound'd like a littl' git when you giggl'd."

At his captain's request, Gibbs guffawed, loud and obnoxious fits of laughter, "Well, at least she did'n slap ye!"

"Almost wish she had, mate," rubbing the red mark upon his forehead, Jack pocketed his pouch. "It figures, ye know? The only wench in Tortuga that's no whore and I gets randy on her."

"No worries," Gibbs patted Jack on the arm, still chuckling under his breath, "Plenty o' others to choose from."

"Why Mister Gibbs, how kind o' ye to offer, but I'm in the mood for a blonde tonight, thank ye all the same," tapping at the first mate's palm still on his forearm, he sounded as serious as the grave.

Jack and Gibbs stared at each other silently for a few moments, before both cackled gleefully. "A pirate's life for me!" they sang, clanking Gibbs whiskey glass and Jack's rum bottle together, slurping a mighty gulp, and thudding their drinks upon the table, always careful not to spill.

It was about five minutes before Madam Bianca made her grand entrance. By that time, the barmaid had returned, somewhat subdued, continuing her cleaning. Gibbs was nursing from his whiskey, while Jack was attempting to become the first singer to harmonize with his own voice. He admitted it wasn't working out too well.

The tiny jingle of bells got their attention. Their faces turned to the trilling, seeing a tall pale woman in the doorway, the ringing coming from little trinkets that decorated her neck, ears, wrist, and ankles. Her hair was thin and black, stirring and floating at the slight movement of her footfalls. It was unbound, free to spill over her bony frame and down her back. She wore a simple black dress that only slimmed her depleting figure further. A stiff wind could've carried the poor girl over and away. In the soft lamp light her skin glowed sickly white.

Her eyes were large and sorrowful and very, very black. It was almost impossible to tell her pupil from her iris. The effect made Jack shiver under his skin and not a lot of things made Jack uncomfortable. "You vish to see Madame Bianca, no?" her voice was breathy as her eyes were unblinking. An accent of eastern European cropped her vowels, but something about it made Jack's nose itch.

"That's right," Jack nudged Gibbs to rise with him as the lady took her seat.

"You vish to contact someone from zee beyond, no?"

"Er, that's right," a quick glance to his first mate, confirmed that Gibbs wasn't buying it. Honestly, Jack hadn't decided yet, "But me pal here, is'n what ye might call a believer. So I was hopin' ye could give us a littl' demonstration, ye know, to sooth the savage skeptic, sort-a-speak?"

"You vish to test me? Ze Great Madam Bianca herself?" she clucked her tongue, when Jack nodded enthusiastically, "Very well."

"Do'n ye mean vell?" Gibbs spoke to his whiskey, ignoring Bianca's glare.

She gave a dramatic sigh that made her body shudder. "I see something," Jack appreciated the irony that she shut her eyes when she said this, "I see black."

"'Cause yer eyes are closed," Jack stated helpfully, Gibbs just snickered.

Without changing her expression, Bianca cleared her throat, "I see black sails." Both Jack and Gibbs immediately shut their mouths, this earned a tiny smirk if triumph from the gypsy. "Yes, black sails upon a black ship. Vhat iz dis?" The two pirates glanced about in case this wasn't a rhetorical question, "I see a bird of some sort flying free over ze ocean, yes? I vonder vhat kind of bird it iz. Perhaps a sparrow?"

Jack hazarded a quick peek at the barmaid, who had been deliberately not looking at them.

"Vell, Captain Jack Sparrow?" Bianca boastfully stuck up her nose, "Did I pass?"

"Depends," Jack said thoughtfully, expression blank. "How much this goin' to cost me, madam?" Gibbs started coughing, completely aghast.

"Three pence to start transcendence," Bianca didn't miss a beat.

"Just to start, ye say?"

"Captain Sparrow, ze spirit world is a place of mystery. Many things can fog ze second sight. Emotion, doubt, unnecessary and selfish attachments to earthly and temporary materials…" she ended waving her wispy arms about vaguely and the tingles that followed were beginning to grate on Gibbs' nerves.

"Ah, I gets it! Every time this pesky fog shows up, I lay more o' me money down, and poof," Jack snapped his fingers in front of her face, she gave the slightest jump, "the mist clears out like a whore on rent day?"

"Something like zat," tracing her fingers along Jack's hand, which still rested upon the table, Bianca fidgeted with a particularly impressive diamond ring around his thumb, "Remember Captain, money iz not ze only earthly material."

"Oh I'm startin' to like this one now!" another sip o' rum, then, "Mister Gibbs, give Madam Bianca three pence, if ye please."

Opening his mouth to argue, Gibbs thought better of it. Instead, settling on an obvious snort and tossing the copper onto the table, "Aye Cap'n."

Bianca swept the coins away and into her skirts, "Very good. Now, who vill ve be communicating vith tonight?"

"Me dear sweet mother," dutifully, Jack removed his hat and kissed his hand mournfully before blowing it heavenward. From across the pub, the barmaid stifled a laugh.

"I ze," Madam Bianca clasped her fingers in prayer, lowering her head, the bells twanging around her neck and wrists. The black eyes shut, "Spirits of the underworld," she spoke grandly, "hear the plea of zis grief-stricken son for hiz beloved mother. Ve beseech you, souls of ze dead to conjure ze one who gave him life! I, Madam Bianca ze Great, hereby order it!" There was a theatrical pause ending in Bianca trembling, "You are in luck Captain Sparrow, ze spirits have blessed you this evening. Your departed mother iz here."

Another grand flourish of her jingling arms and Bianca sat entranced, "I see…I see…" Bianca moaned, "She vishes to tell you something…something important…a terrible secret! Oh ze shame! Oh ze dishonor! Oh ze guilt which eats at her very soul from beyond ze grave! She must purge herself of her sin, oh that she might find respite!" Suddenly Bianca's entire demeanor changed, her voice became as oily as an eels, "Tell me Jack, iz zere, perhaps, a mystery as pertains to your paternal legitimacy?"

"Most definitely!" Jack beamed with pride.

"Yes, of course, the spirits have enlightened me!" the grandeur returned like lightening, "Your mother begs to impart ze identity of your father, ze only man she has ever truly loved! You must find him and make peace vith him, for ze sake of your mother's eternal soul. Zis is her last request…do not fail her Jack…help her rest in peace! Your father is…your father is…" yelping, Bianca clutched her heart, panting roughly. "I cannot! Zere is too much worldly influence in ze way," two black eyes fell upon Jack's shining rings.

"This be amazin'!" Jack drawled, grinning vacantly. "Mister Gibbs, is'n this amazin'?"

"Bloody spectacular, 'tis," Gibbs returned the wry smile. Madam Bianca, not totally void of the powers of intuition, suppressed a shiver, noticing the conspicuous change in the atmosphere.

"Particularly spectacular" leaning forward, Jack crept closer to Bianca, his nose an inch from hers, "considerin' me dear, sweet mother's not dead." He rapped on the table so loudly, a stressed squeak escaped Bianca's thin lips in surprise, "Knock on wood."

"What are ye sayin' Jack?" Gibbs gasped sarcastically, "You're not suggesting' that 'ze Great Madam Bianca' be a fraud are ye?"

"Faker than her accent Mister Gibbs!"

"Fancy that."

A few panic stutters answered them, "Well, I mean vell…maybe…um…she's been sick? And…no, no, I've got it! She's not your real mother!" Desperation tinged her white face pink as she held up her palms hopefully. "The spirits have enlightened me?" she said uncertainly.

"Oh come on luv," Jack eased back in his seat, creaking loudly, and crossing his feet atop the table, "At first 'twas cute, now ye just bein' pathetic. It's time to-," sticking a finger in Gibbs' side, Jack exaggerated a wink, "give up the ghost!" Jack exploded in voluminous laughter, "Get it!"

"Jesus, Jack where ye get yer puns?" Gibbs swiped his finger inside his empty glass and licked the stray whiskey off. "That was bloody awful!"

"Bah, what do ye know, ye drunk?"

"Look who's talkin'!"

The banter ceased when clanging jewelry signaled Bianca's sorry attempt at a stealthy escape, she was only halfway out of her chair. She froze like a wild animal and meekly asked, "How 'bout ye mates give me a 'ead start, eh?"

"How 'bout ye give Mister Gibbs two o' his pence back, keep one for the fine entertainment, and get the hell out of me sight 'fore I change me mind?" Jacked cocked his head to the side, beads and trinkets making noises of their own in his hair.

Not needing to be told twice, Bianca cast the coins at Gibbs, hitched up her skirt, and executed a hasty, if somewhat musical, retreat, her little bells jingling all the way down the alley and fading into the Tortuga nightlife. One of Jack's men moved to follow her, but Jack waved him back into his seat.

"Damn I'm a softy," heaving a great sigh, Jack let his head flop back, gazing at the damp ceiling. "Captain Jack the Merciful, I can hear it now," he spat moodily.

"Merciful me arse!" Gibbs collected the two pence, "That 'twas me money, Jack, ye owe me a copper."

"How 'bouts a drink insteady?"

"That'll work."

"Ahoy, me buxom beauty!" hollering across the room, Jack waved merrily at the barmaid, who gave a huff. "Another whiskey here," Jack examined his bottle of rum carefully, then added, "And beer for me!"

"Gets yer feet off that table and I'll gets ye yer drinks," she hollered back, hands on hips.

"Oooh, I'm in troubl' now," Jack told Gibbs, leisurely lowering his feet to the floor, never breaking eye contact with the barmaid. The moment his boots touched ground, she twirled around and fetched their order. "Supposin' we should go huntin' for Old Buckman tonight, eh? Get me money back 'fore he drinks it all, that daft old bugger."

Every ounce of restraint kept Gibbs from commenting, 'I told ye so!' after all, a captain was still a captain, friend or no. He settled on comforting Jack's pride as a proper substitute for gloating, "Did'n figure Buckman for gullible though. Who's to know he'd be takin' in by a con with a pretty face?"

"That's if he was, Gibbs," Jack debated, "maybe he's hopin I get fool'd. And if that's how the winds blowin', we got to rough him up a bit. Nothin' too drastic, mind ye, just 'nough so peoples can point and say, 'Dumb bloke cross'd Captain Jack, that'll teach him.'"

"Him thinkin' ye'll fall for a con, be gullible in me book and bloomin' stupid to boot. Anyway, Old Buckman drinks here, mounts the cheap wenches under the peer, and sleeps in the church that be all he does. He'll be 'round soon 'nough," Gibbs stretched, slow and lazy. "No sense trudgin' 'bout the streets, Buckman'll be comin' here any moment to spend some o' that fifteen crowns ye paid him, bet me life on it."

"Here ye go boys," the barmaid approached, glass and mug in tow. "Ye owes me for the whiskey," she set it down before Gibbs, "but this be a free beer for the good Cap'n what done what he was told and kept his boots off the table." Patting the hat atop his head, she slid the mug in front of Jack. He couldn't be sure which set his blood boiling more, the ample amount of bosom that was presented when she bent slightly to tap him, or the words 'free beer'. "Sees ye scared 'way that riff raff Bianca," the barmaid said conversationally as Jack dug around his pockets for exact change.

"Was'n all that bad, me dear," Jack flourished the money towards her and she seized it, keeping a keen eye on his other hand, "Ye told her did'n ye? Me name, that is?"

Daintily she blushed and Jack felt lust course through his veins like the alcohol he was consuming. Heaven knew he loved a blushing woman. It was so ladylike, so deliciously feminine, but still hinted at very naughty thoughts. Especially, this charming example before him, the color was so strong upon her rosy cheeks, it could have been bright rouge. The pink tinge spilled down her swan neck, spreading to the shoulders he had sought to uncover only ten minutes prior. But what fashioned this pretty picture into eroticism for Jack was the beautiful flush spanned the expanse of her glorious breasts, coloring the porcelain cleavage that made his mouth water. Such a sight inspired his fantasies to fathom how far that blush must creep along her body, and how his questing hands and mouth intended to follow it. How much of that creamy skin turned pink when excited? There was a telltale tightening in his trousers and Jack had to bite his tongue to assuage the thoughts running rampant in his mind, indebted to the table covering his lap.

"Aye, I told her," the barmaid shrugged, dispersing the blush, for which Jack was sorrowful and grateful at the same time. "Figur'd Bianca could use all the help she can get. She's not a bad gel, not malicious anyways. Sweet Mary though, the predictions that comes from her mouth, craziest things ye ever heard, hardly ever right." She twiddled her fingers in a friendly gesture of farewell and abandoned them to their drinks and musings.

"Gots to give Madam Bianca a littl' bit o' credit though," Jack heartily cracked his knuckles. "She did guess that I'm a bastard."

"Beggin' ye pardon Cap'n," Gibbs testified, matter-a-fact, "but blind beggars in the gutter and wee babies at their momma's tit can tell yer a bastard. Ye practically have 'questionable parentage' tattooed on yer head!" To emphasize his point, Gibbs tapped Jack's temple twice.

"Bah, send me regards to yer mother," Jack retorted, distracted by the barmaid who was presently checking the pulse of an inebriated old sailor who hadn't moved in a long while. "Ye do know me offer still stands, sweetheart?" Jack bellowed to her, flailing his exaggerating arms like she was a league away. "So if ye happens to discover yerself cold and lonely sleeping by yer onesies tonight, ye skip yer way over to the Black Pearl," several of the inhabitants of the bar stirred at the mention of the infamous ship, "and asks for me. Be all too happy to accommodate ye ands I swears by Poseidon hiself, ye'll always 'member this night as the night ye sport'd with Cap'n Jack Sparrow!" like a gentleman from Sussex, Jack spread his arms and bowed gracefully, albeit still in his chair.

She ground her teeth, readying a scathing insult, but she caught Jack's genuine smile, lacking in its lewdness and mockery. It occurred to the barmaid that somewhere in his intoxicated brain, he truly considered this proposition to be the sincerest sort of flattery to give a woman. Instead, she returned the smile, huffing theatrically and waving her hands about, as if shooing away a simple child. Quite pleased with himself, Jack chuckled then downed his free beer in one impressive gulp.

The front door swung open, "Maren, ye blessed gel, fetch me a round and a round and a round, then another round!" an elderly man, squinting through milky cataracts, cackled and strode into the bar. At once, Gibbs and Jack recognized the raspy voice, eyes swiveling upon Old Buckman.

"No, no, no!" the barmaid hustled at the old man. "Out this instance! Ye tab is bigger then a whale's wanker, Buck, and no beggin' and no puppy dog eyes this time! That last drank I gave ye out o' the compassion of me heart nearly got me sack'd and a good right smack too!" She placed one hand on hip and the other waggled a finger at the door, "Out now, Buckman, comes back when ye pays the money ye owe."

"But Maren me angel, I gots money! And plenty of it, me ship's sailed in finally! Lookie here, luv!" Old Buckman presented one gold coin proudly. "Now come sit and drink with Old Buckman and let him thank ye for all the kindness ye ever showed this poor old man. Who knows, I might even give ye all them tips I always promis'd ye!"

A snap surprised the two. It came from Jack, grinning like a cat. Instantly, the three pirates still seated soundly by the door pounced. One grabbed Buckman's collar, the other two pinned his arms.

Pitifully, Old Buckman blinked confused, before his bleary eyes identified Jack stepping closer followed by Gibbs. "Cap'n Sparrow? Bless me heart, what a relief!" he gibbered, "Mistook ye for common criminals I did, almost gave me a heart attack." He timidly tested pulling against the grasps that held him, but they wouldn't budge. "What's this now Cap'n? Did'n I make good? I said-I did-I said, 'Goes to the Siren's Drink,' that's what I said."

"Aye that's what ye said," Jack blew out an exasperated breath, itching his whiskered cheek, "But no, ye did'n make good, Buckman. Madam Bianca's a phony and a frivolous waste o' me time. And me time is valuable-," His voice faded to silence when Old Buckman howled in laughter so loudly it ended in fits of violent coughs.

"Bianca!" he quipped, "That loony tart? No, no, Cap'n Jack, why she's dafter then I am!" Buckman grinned, some teeth black and others missing, in relief.

"No argument there," Gibbs said.

"Old Buck, me thinks ye best be elaboratin'," pinching the bridge of his nose, Jack signaled his crewmembers to let the elder go.

"She's the one ye want," a crooked finger, arched from arthritis, pointed directly at the barmaid, "a genuine medium!"