Ah Tortuga.....home to the drunk and the dirty....surely not a place for our man in the lovely white wig?

Beckett surveyed his surroundings with disgust. The dank of the inn mixed with the stale air to create an almighty stench. Drunken men cavorted with intoxicated women in dark corners whilst consuming inhuman amounts of alcohol. Beckett found the whole thing sordid.

Walking through the tavern, avoiding the occasional fistfight or two, he made his way to the bar at the far end. Taking note of the people there Beckett saw the redhead prostitute he had spent the night with, she did not look at him and was chatting gaily with her blonde companion, he recognized her also. He had spent a night in her bed as well.

Simple, ignorant creatures,Beckett thought dourly, You know nothing besides your immediate world. What a charmed life you lead! How blessed!

Eyeing him suspiciously was the barman. A humongous man with a ruddy complexion and small piggy eyes. He didn't want no stuff shirt navy man in his bar. Beckett tried to remain indifferent and, albeit a little nervously, strode over to the man.

'Good evening Sir,' Beckett greeted him, making no attempt at friendliness, his voice was haughty and it made the barman glare at him. 'Where is the man you call Gibbs?'

The barman raised his eyebrow, analysing the small and arrogant man before him. Gibbs? What did this man want with him?

The barman said nothing. Sighing, Beckett withdrew a gold coin from the pouch attached to his belt, he waved it surreptitiously at the barman.

'Your help will not go unrewarded.' he purred.

The barman's eyes goggled at the coin in Beckett's hand. Glancing around him he jerked his head towards the sty.

'H's in th' back' he grunted lowly.

'Thank you.' Beckett said, tossing the coin into the barman's massive hands.

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Beckett found the man laying in the stinking mud, his head resting on a large sow's back.

'Ugh.' Beckett snorted, flaring his nostrils when the godforsaken smell assaulted his senses.

He needed the man awake, and, judging by the rum bottle in his hand, he needed him sober. Looking around Beckett saw a small pail of sludgy water next to a wooden support.

Picking it up Beckett glanced at the sleeping man, glanced at the pail, then back at the man.

Wakey-wakey Gibbs! he thought evilly, and threw the cold water over the man.

Gibbs awoke instantly, spitting the stagnant water out of his mouth and spewing profanities. 'Curse you and your grandmother's teeth you filthy bog rat!'

Beckett coolly set the bucket down, and waited for the man to stop.

'Are you quite finished?' he asked, revulsion playing on every syllable.

Gibbs stopped and brushed the sodden hair out of his eyes, looking at Beckett his eyes widened in disbelief and fear.

'Cu-Cutler Beckett?!' he stammered 'Y-You're dead! I saw yer ship go down! I fired one of th' cannons meself!'

'Yes, yes,' Beckett interrupted, raising his hand angrily 'Blown to smithereens, I know, I should be dead, but, as luck would have it, here I am.'

He waited patiently as he watched all of this sink in. Examining his fingernails absentmindedly he allowed Gibbs to curiously scrutinize his face.

'Well, blow me down!' he breathed in awe.

'I'd rather not Gibbs.' Beckett smiled thinly 'I have no desire to be this close to you as it is.'

Beckett was stood at least seven feet away from Gibbs.

Gibbs frowned, this was strange, bringing Barbossa and Jack from the next world was weird enough, but Beckett?! Surely Tia Dalma wasn't that crazy?!

'What d'ye want Beckett?' he asked.

'I need a boat.'

Gibbs was confused.

'A ship?'

'A rowing boat.' Beckett rolled his eyes, they expected too much of him really, pirates. Pulling several gold pieces from his pouch and handed them to Gibbs, who took him greedily.

'Aye,' he smiled 'I'll get ye a boat Beckett.'

'And directions.' Beckett said sharply, causing Gibbs to stare.

'To wha'? Another port?'

Beckett walked closer to him, until his face was just a foot from Gibbs'.

'Perhaps you remember a certain woman named Elizabeth Swann?'

Gibbs eyes narrowed dangerously, a dark suspicion clouding his face.

'And what does ye' wan' with Miss Turner?' he asked, his voice quiet.

Beckett blinked in surprise. Turner? She married the blacksmith? Damn, this is going to make things awfully complicated.

'I have some unfinished business that I need to sort out.' he told him smoothly. Gibbs scowled at him furiously.

'Sorry Beckett,' he snarled aggressively, 'Bu' I spent too long protectin' the little Missy, an' I ain't gonna betray her now!'

Beckett took a few steps back in alarm.

'My dear fellow, I have no intention of hurting the woman-' he began, but Gibbs cut him off with a growl.

'I doubt she'll see ya anyway, poor child, 'spect your presence will jus' upset her further.'

Beckett could only stare as Gibbs turned away, his ire spent. Sighing he reached into his coat pocket. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this.

'Tell me where she is Gibbs.' he ordered, colder than ice.

Gibbs looked around to see Beckett pointing a gun at him. His eyes blazing with blue fire. Looking down the barrel he knew Beckett meant to do it. He scoffed.

'Yer gonna shoot me Beckett?' he asked quizzically.

'If I have to.' came the sharp reply.

Gibbs shook his head wonderingly, surely this man wasn't mad enough to kill the only person with the right information. Of course he would. The little bastard.

'Why'd ye care so much fer the lady?'

Beckett frowned, Care?! Of course I don't bloody care! I'm just sick of having my nights invaded by the bitch! I want a full nights sleep for once! I don't even like Elizabeth Swann, I mean Turner, Really, some sleep, is that too much to ask?!!!

'I have something that belongs to her.' he admitted.

Gibbs cocked his head slightly, wondering, his eyes trying to lock Beckett's gaze. But then he remembered that the man had a gun pointing at him. Gibbs sighed.

'Ye know the Caretta Isles?'

Beckett nodded 'Of course.'

'Aye, the one farthest north, the little 'un.'

Beckett lowered the gun, nodded again and went to walk out the door when Gibbs' soft growl followed him;

'Yer boat'll be waitin' fer ye in the mornin', an' if ye hurt Elizabeth, you'll regret it, mark me words.'

Oh dear,oh dear, What has Gibbs done?

I'm sorry if Gibbs appeared a little out of character, please enlighten me if I get any of them wrong. I'd like some reviews if that's okay? Just so know how to write the rest, Thank You!

Next update is a flashback, so please don't be confused if everything changes.