Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot.
SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT
Chapter 14: Never Sleep With Twins…
"Diablo's gate, gentlemen! And ladies," Jack added the next day. This perked the crew up immensely.
Camille was sitting in the shade of a nice, wide-brimmed hat Ana Maria had lent her. She was mending a sail, and looked up to watch the Captain make his short announcement. She shook her head, continuing her work. There was no way she was going to a place called Diablo's gate. Diablo wasn't a word that was used freely, and she didn't want to find out why it was used in this case.
A few evenings later, the majority of the crew sat in a tavern in Capulet port. By now, Camille was used to this. Drinking, whoring…well, she didn't sell her body. But she observed the better part of it. She never drank much, figuring that one person should always keep their guard up. Plus, rum never really struck her taste palate. So she usually cradled one or two drinks all night, taking small sips of it at a time.
Jack sat somewhere in the tavern, with a lady on each lap. Camille had also gotten used to this as well. She didn't know what it was that she felt for Jack now that she was an official member of his crew. When she had been at Port Celebros, she found herself being convinced that she and Jack actually had a future. Now that she was able to observe his uncensored behavior, she wasn't sure if she'd been in love with a man or the thought of one.
She wasn't at all angry about mistaking her emotions, though. She and Ana Maria had become surprisingly close. And Camille absolutely loved being independent. She barely thought about her father or Gillette. She had become quite reliant on herself in little to no time. She smiled and laughed. She didn't know half of the tavern's population, but when it was this late at night/early in the morning, everyone was friends with each other.
Jack sat with two lovely ladies. Each of his hands were underneath a skirt, and he laughed and told them the stories that his crew was sick of hearing. He caught a glimpse of Camille playing cards with Mr. BoJangles (Cotton's parrot had been notoriously dubbed by her), and wondered for a split second if a girl like her would be all right with this lifestyle. And as the two twins led him upstairs, he found himself looking back. What if I stayed?
The thought flashed across his mind so quickly that he dismissed it as an effect of the rum, almost feeling embarrassed for having thought it. He was Captain Jack Sparrow. Notorious for never letting a woman tie him down. Being with the same one, he would miss this lifestyle. He wouldn't be allowed out drinking and bedding strange merchant woman; and what sort of decent man could live like that? Sighing, he followed the twins to an unoccupied room.
The next morning, Camille exited her room feeling very refreshed. The sky was as clairvoyant as the water, and she took in a deep breath of salty air. Looking around the deck, Mr. Gibbs was cursing and throwing cards all over.
She laughed. "Did the parrot beat you again, Mr. Gibbs?" she asked.
"Aye, that bird has got eyes in th' back o' his 'ead!" he said, shaking a fist in the air.
She shook her head. "Maybe next time."
"Aye, perhaps," Gibbs said.
She spotted Jack walking his swaying walk towards the gangplank. "Morning, Captain!" she shouted, putting on a smile. "Would you like steak or salmon for dinner?" she asked.
"Ugh," Jack mumbled. She was jealous, it was obvious. She was already mocking him. And he was in no mood for it. What a night. "Whatever's quickest to make," he replied as he boarded the ship. "There's much cleaning to do."
She nodded. "Yes, Captain," she said, turning her head as Ana Maria called her.
Jack looked after her, arms crossed. His expression was so sour that Gibbs was almost afraid to ask what had gone on last night. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Jack just shook his head slowly. "Never…NEVER sleep with twins when you are inebriated, Gibbs. Mark my words," he said seriously.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't tell them apart when ye woke up?"
Jack nodded. "If you need to ever know one thing, it is not to upset a woman in the morning. Much less two women. You realize we can never go back there, Gibbs."
Gibbs nodded sadly. "Add it to the list, Cap'n?"
Jack nodded. "But Gibbs…" he called out as Mr. Gibbs began going below. "Scratch off Napau. It's been two and a half years."
"Aye, Cap'n."
Moaning, Jack squinted into the sunlight. He rubbed his forehead, trying to forget his headache for the time being. He couldn't stop thinking about last night and that thought that he should stay behind. What was WRONG with him? He must be sick or something, because he didn't even enjoy the sex last night. And it was with two women; every man's dream. It had only been the fourth time he had experienced such a miraculous thing; and here he'd been too distracted to enjoy it.
What was distracting him so much? Not to mention that the hangover hadn't even been worth it. They would simply stop in another port tonight, and he would make sure that he enjoyed himself this time. That was all there was to it.
Camille was up in crow's nest, trying to get to the sail with the giant tear in it. It had taken her awhile to figure out what ropes did what, but thanks to Ana Maria she was as good as any man on that ship. And through the lessons her fear of heights had lessened. It hadn't quite diminished, though. She looked dizzily down as she climbed through the riggings.
She listened quietly to the pirates that evening in the kitchen. Apparently they were docking again shortly. It had been quite a boring day for Camille, and she plodded off to bed not long after the meal.
She woke up to a gentle rocking. She had become quite used to it in the past few days. She could hear boots scraping across the desk above her and voices.
She made her way up on deck and saw that they were in the process of weighing anchor. "Camille!" Ana Maria called. "Where ya been, I've been looking all over for you?"
"I was down below. I'm terribly exhausted lately," she replied. "Why are we docking?"
"Captain's orders. He failed to mention why, but he's been in a foul mood lately. No one questions that man," Ana said cautiously.
"I don't think I want to go ashore. I'm just so tired."
"Well, you best get back down to your cabin. I've rarely been to these parts, but somethin' tells me it might be a good idea for someone to remain on the Pearl."
Camille nodded, saying goodnight and making her way back down to her cabin. She listened intently as the men left the ship one by one, hooting and hollering as they did so. She watched out her window as they disappeared among the slightly lit town.
She took out the book of William Wordsworth's poetry from under her pillow, lit the lantern, and proceeded to read until she finished the book. Great, what would she do now? It was fairly late, but she wasn't tired anymore. She looked at the book, considering whether to sneak into Jack's cabin or not. He'd already told her how obvious she was, and apparently he was in a horrible mood. Perhaps if she was able to put the book back on the shelf precisely where she'd found it, he wouldn't notice.
She took a deep breath, exiting the cabin. There was, of course, no one on the ship. She had nothing to worry about. "Okay," Camille told herself. Picking up her skirts, she ran up the stairs and across the deck, opening and shutting the door rapidly.
Now inside, she couldn't see a thing. She tried to give herself a moment for her eyes to adjust, but it was still too dark for her to see what she was doing. She sighed. She was about to admit to herself that she had no luck when she heard something outside.
Ducking, she listened closely to two voices. There were people walking around the deck. Peeking out through the window, she saw two strange men that weren't of the crew. One had an eye patch and grey hair, and the other one had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail under a red bandana.
She looked around the dark cabin, for a weapon or something. No, I'd make an absolute fool of myself, she thought. She could see Jack's hat on his desk, and his coat was hung up. He must've been going casual.
Then an idea hit her. She took the coat off the hook and wrapped it around herself, sliding her arms in it. It felt heavy on her, and didn't smell like rum and sweat like she had imagined. It smelled…good. Old, but a good kind of smoky, slightly musty smell. Making her way over to the desk, she reached the hat and put in on her head, tucking her hair in the coat.
Turning around from the desk, she stumbled over something, almost ruining her plan. The two men looked alarmed. "What was that?" one of them said.
Camille cleared her throat, making sure to stand with his back to the window. "Gibbs?" she said in the manliest voice she could. "Gibbs, is that you? I said I don't want any bloody interruptions, you imbecile!" she shouted, raising her fist and shaking it a little, and then jiggling the door handle like she was about to come out.
This was intimidating enough for the men. "I thought you said he wasn't on the ship!" one whispered.
"Let's just get outta here. Leave it!" the other whispered back as they hastily left the ship.
She had to stop from laughing out loud. She was so impressed with herself, and even struck a pose, waving her arms about like the Captain. The cabin was still dark, and she lit one of the candles on his desk. After the room had a little light, she hung her head. It was a mess. "He's going to be furious with me," she said quietly.
Her stumbling around in the dark had caused maps and papers to scatter all over the place. She had no idea what order they went in, if there even was an order to them. He would believe her if she told him the truth, wouldn't he? Then she would have to admit why she was in his cabin in the first place.
She sighed, getting to her knees and beginning to pick up the papers. She was in big trouble, and she just had to face it. Her father couldn't get her out of it anymore.
