Disclaimer: Wow, you know, I still have nothing to disclaim. It's all mine again. Don't worry, Jack should be coming in any minute now….any minute….

Author's Note:

No, I have no explanation for my delay in updating. Yes, I am sorry for leaving you guys…kinda…

Oh pish, here's the story, like it review, hate it leave it, k?

MOI

In hardly no time at all, night had descended upon Tortuga. This was the time that the city really came to life. People flooded the streets in search of cheap, usually illegal, materials, in search of friends, or just in search of a good time.

The Sea Maiden was packed to the brim with every kind of villain and vagrant imaginable, all talking as loudly as possible, fighting, whoring, and causing a general ruckus.

From Mr. Reed's point of view, it was a perfect night. He stood off to one side, allowing the crowd to move freely throughout his beloved pub and brothel. He watched the customers with satisfied disinterest. Devlin was behind the bar, frantically filling orders for rum and the like, feeling a bit overwhelmed. Mr. Reed snorted. Damn useless kid. His eyes ran lazily over the line of whores, waiting to be picked up by a 'gentleman' and noticed one in particular was missing.

"Oi! Clarisse!" He waved a grubby hand at the courtesan. She was the oldest of the girls at 36 and was the ruling matron over the rest of them. Her wavy cinnamon hair stopped at her shoulders and she nearly always wore it back. Her eyes were a sharp mix of green and brown, which many gents said was one of her best features. She sashayed over to her employer, yelling at several drunks on her way.

"What is it now, Reed?" Clarisse questioned, annoyance edging her voice, "I'm working here."

"Where's that new girl?"

"Who, Mel?" Clarisse took a step back to glance about the room, before turning back to watch Reed. "What do you want to know for?"

"Why should ye care, Clarisse? Now, where is she?"

Clarisse took one last suspicious look at her boss before glancing away. "Last I saw 'er she was taking some customers back to 34."

"'Ow many gents?"

"I dunno, maybe…five?"

"Five! What the bloody 'ell she gonna do with-"

"'Ow the 'ell should I know! I gotta get back to work." With that, Clarisse bustled off, clearly having more important things to attend to, leaving a very confused and puzzled Mr. Reed in her wake. He stood there for several seconds, thinking (not something he usually supported) the situation over. Finally, he decided that as it was his property being sold, and he had a right to know what was being done with it, he might as well take a little stroll over to room 34.

Mr. Reed made his way up the hallway of rooms that lined the back of his pub, trying to imagine what in the world that whore was going to do with five gentlemen all at once. He supposed a few of them could watch but that didn't hardly seem worth it, well leastwise not to him…

He stopped outside number 34 and listened in carefully. At first he only heard the scrape of wood against wood and the flick of thick paper.

"Give me two, girlie."

"Right there you are."

"I'll see your five and rise ye ten there mate."

"I wouldn't take him too seriously gents, seems like he's bluffing to me."

"Coo, I do believe you're right there, dearie. I'm all in."

"Too high for me, fold."

Mr. Reed stood at the door aghast. He hoped and prayed that what he thought was going on in that room, was not actually going on. He knocked tentatively.

"Oi, must be Jenkins, coming back with the refreshments. Come on in Jenky, it's already too late, we've all had a good look at your cards and we all agreed – it's the worst hand we've seen in a good while."

Mr. Reed entered the room, too astonished at the sight that met his eyes to even articulate properly. There, sitting around a table was four gentlemen, all fully clothed, all sober, and Mel, also fully clothed and sober, playing a high-stakes game of poker. In the pot was already a good 100 gold pieces along with some assorted odds and ends of expensive material ranging from an old watch to an ornate dagger.

Once Mr. Reed had recovered from his shock, he noticed the ring of faces staring up at him expectantly. "Just…making sure ye fine gentlemen was… satisfied with…our, uh, Mel here," Mr. Reed explained slowly, glancing back from the men to Mel face over and over again.

"Oh aye," assured one of the men, "I haven't played a good game of poker in months, I can tell you."

"Most action I've seen in five months," added another sailor, seriously perusing his cards and throwing in a few more gold pieces.

Mr. Reed stood uncomfortably in the doorway, noting Mel's smug smile with animosity. "Right then, I'll…leave you gents to it then." And he tripped his way back out of the room and down the hallway.

The four men and Mel watched him leave and then went back to their game.

"Strange man that," commented one.

"Yeah, strange. Give me three, will ya Mel?"

"Certainly."

A/N: Next chapter things start to go bad…