No man would feel unwanted

Timothy was right, there was plenty of rum. The cupboard in the, well what Jack could only term as a bar, never went dry. Jack also noticed that all varieties of men and women where at world's end. Pirates, Navy men, blacksmiths , whores, and socialites. The rich and the poor. It didn't matter here at World's end, money meant nothing. Everyone had tales to tell, of course no tale was a great as Jack's in his mind. Many days passed where people would just gather around tables in the bar to swap tales of treasure, of love, of death, of anything. Jack would listen and input little. He had a question that just swam in his head.

"Your stay will not be long," he said aloud to the rest of the table he sat with. They all went quiet and listened intently.

"What do you mean be that, Cap'n," said James, his crewman.

"She said that the day I arrived, mate."

"You mean, Miss did," asked another member of the table.

"What could she have meant by that," Jack asked. A very drunk woman fell backwards unto Jack's lap.

"Silly pirate," she giggled. Jack smiled at her. It seemed someone was finally taking his suggest of making every port like Tortuga. "Misssss," she slurred as she twirled Jack's Hair, " Missss always knows, when people come and goooooooOOOooo." She landed her mouth on Jack's. When they parted the conversation continued, though the rest of the table lost interest.

"What do you mean, darling?"

She giggled almost uncontrolably and swung her arm around, spilling rum everywhere. Jack followed the motion of her hand trying to catch the rum in his mouth. "I mean, that she knows. She mets ye at the the door, and sees ye out the door." She then dumped the rum on her and Jack started lapping off what lay on her breast bone.

"You mean," he said inbetween his, um, drinks, "that we can leave?"

At this she stopped giggling, took Jack's chin in her hand, raising his eyes to meet her's. "No. No, ye can't leave. But if ye are found..." she said breathing the sweet smell of rum into him. "If ye are found, Jack Sparrow." At that the conversation was over. They continued their, um, well they continued. And as they continued, Jack no longer smelled the sweetness of rum on the breath of the woman in his possession, but the smell of salt and the spray, and any questions he had left, left his mind.