Disclaimer- Same as all the others ;)

Chapter 5- Rhythm of the Night

Three weeks passed. Enough time for Paris to decide that she didn't mind being on The Black Pearl after all, and it had also given her ample opportunity to familiarise herself with the crew. Jack still hadn't given up his pursuit of her, but instead of being disgusted by his behaviour, she had come to find it amusing.

Standing at the Helm with the night breeze blowing in her dark hair, Paris was content for the first time. The Royal Navy seemed a distant memory, and the bruise on her neck had completely faded. "Daydreaming 'bout me, luv?" a very familiar voice broke into her thoughts.

Paris gave Jack a bemused grin as she replied, "Actually, you'll be happy to know I was."

Rearranging his face to look surprised, Jack sauntered up to her, placing a hand on her waist. "Ye know, ye don' just have to daydream," he told her thoughtfully.

"Land ho'!" came a call from the Crow's Nest.

Spinning around to look towards a Port that was coming into view just over the horizon, Jack smiled showing off his golden teeth. "Tortuga."

If Paris thought The Dirty Maid tavern was bad back in Saint Huxenburg, it was nothing compared with The Faithful Bride. It was not only the Tavern itself which was a disgrace, but it seemed the whole town was crawling with the most unsavoury characters of society. Drunks lay on the dirty ground, men in tattered clothes sat on barrels or stood leaning against walls, a bottle in one hand, a wench on the other.

"Jack," Paris said trying not to trip over a drunken body on the floor of the tavern, "What makes you think we'll be safe here?"

Instead of the Captain answering, Gibbs informed her, "Lass, the 'hole place be running amuck with criminals an' murderers alike. You two'll fit righ' in."

"Well, that's comforting," she returned cheerfully.

Pushing their way to the back of the room, they each took a seat around a small wooden table that was as far away from the chaos that they could get. While Martinez had warned her not to go with the two men, Paris had insisted her legs needed to feel solid ground beneath her feet after weeks aboard The Pearl. After threatening a very frightened looking Jack, he had watched her leave with a shake of his head.

Paris now understood his insistence that she stay as she stared around the wild room. "Rum?" Jack asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Paris shook her head no. "I don't really drink," she told him, "And I couldn't afford it."

"It's on Gibbs," he told her with a twinkle in his eye, leaving with a swing of his arms before his First Mate could protest.

The sound of brawling and tables being overturned filled in the silence that followed. Paris tucked a piece of stray hair back behind her ear as she leant across the table towards Gibbs. "So, how long have you known Jack for?" she asked in an attempt to break the ice.

"A fair while, lass," he replied, "Been through a bit with 'im too."

Paris nodded, and with a smile said, "I've heard. Is it true that he's always been...you know...?" Tapping her temple to symbolise madness, Gibbs let out a loud chuckle. Feeling she had achieved her goal to make him more relaxed around her, Paris settled back in her chair. Suddenly, a pair of strong hands gripped the sides of her arms, yanking her to her feet.

The stench of alcohol swam up her nose as Paris was forced to face a large man, three times as big as her. Stubble covered his face, and his black eyes pierced into hers. Running his filthy hands down the sides of her arms, he pushed her closer to his body. "I bet you be one of the expensive ones?" he growled into her ear.

Fighting down nausea at the smell coming from his mouth, Paris tried to pull away from his iron grip. "Let me go!" she exclaimed furiously, "I'm not a wench!"

"Sure ye aren't" he laughed harshly continuing to pull her into him.

Unable to squirm out of his hold, Paris did the only thing she could. Raising her knee, she hit him right where it hurt. As the large man doubled over in pain, she patted him on the back saying, "When a woman says no, it's best you learn that she means it."

Glancing up she saw Jack standing near her, three mugs of rum in his hands, looking at her as though she had gone mad. Ignoring him and dropping back into her chair, Paris shot daggers across the table at Gibbs who had remained in his seat the entire time. "Thanks for the help," she said sarcastically to him.

As Jack joined them, he studied Gibbs who was looking quite sheepish under Paris' narrowed eyes. Grinning, he inquired, "Did I miss somethin'?"

Forgetting for the moment she didn't normally drink, Paris took the rum Jack had set in front of her and took a big long swig, staring meaningfully at the First Mate. Her hazel eyes glanced towards Jack over the edge of the mug and she noticed that he appeared to be nursing a rather red cheek. Furrowing her brows, she asked, "What happened to you?"

Scrunching up his nose, Jack answered, "I didn't deserve it, if that's what ye be thinkin'."

Laughing, Paris shook her head. 'Pirates'

"So afte' we pay 'im back, we go onto Highbray?" Gibbs asked enthusiastically.

After a few rounds of rum, the three were beginning to feel the effects of Jack's favourite drink, but none as much as Paris who was having trouble keeping her eyes open to follow the conversation.

"Precisely!" Jack exclaimed, "Sailin' the-"

"If I may interrupt," Paris slurred, holding up a hand. "Where do I fit into this?"

Jack and Gibbs exchanged glances. "What about ye, luv? You'll be comin' along too."

"That's just it," she said with a sigh, "I want to go home."

Slumping back in her chair in resignation, to Jack's and Gibbs eyes, she appeared to be asleep. After a few moments, her eyes flew open once more. "Jack!" she said in a tone that was very much awake.

"Hmmm?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"You got me into this mess, and I'm asking you to get me out of it," she told him, her arms waving wildly.

Under her scrutinizing gaze, Jack nodded his understanding, It seemed far wiser to agree with the young lady. "I have some ol' friends back in Port Royal. They may just be able to help ye out, so that's where we be headin'."

Flashing him a pleased smile, Paris took the last swig of her rum just as some upbeat music began playing somewhere in the Tavern. Turning in her chair, she tried to find its source, but with the brawling crowds in the centre of the room, it was next to impossible. Then a wild idea entered her head. Leaping to her feet, Paris grinned at Jack. "Dance with me!" she exclaimed pulling him up.

"Luv!" he said, sounding terrified as he tried to sit back down, "Captain Jack Sparrow doesn't dance."

Swaying perilously where she stood, Paris placed one of his hands on her waist, and the other she took in her hand. Moving in closer to him, her head resting on his chest as she began to lead, albeit drunkenly,Parisasked him, "It's not that bad is it?"

Looking down at the young lady, Jack grinned at the opportune moment that seemed to have arisen from the situation. Sliding his callused hand down her side, he replied roguishly, "I guess not, luv,"

Author's Note: I hope your liking it so far:)