Title: Where You Got The Notion
Rating: R (suggestive situations)
Characters: Jack / Giselle / Scarlett / Gibbs
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with them

Summary: Jack goes out on account, then has to account for his actions, which are on account of having gone out on account…

--

Where You Got The Notion…

She was out on adventure. The wind in her hair, her eyes on the horizon, the sea stretching out before her. Above her head the snap of canvas, below her feet the creaking of timbers. Aloft, the lookout cried out…

"Giselle! Wake up!"

Giselle groaned and turned her back on the interruption. "Don't want to. Go away," she mumbled. Such a lovely dream, too.

Her roommate was persistent however, and took her by the shoulder to give her a good shake.

"What'ya want?" Giselle asked, groggily. "Whatever it is, can't be that bloomin' important." She opened one sleepy eye to find Scarlett standing over her, her hands on her hips, looking thoroughly unhappy

"I've just had to tell Mr. Beasley, again, that I do not have this week's rent." She glowered at Giselle, tapping her foot in irritation.

"How was I t' know the pickings would be so slim this week?" Giselle grumbled as she sat up and yawned. "Besides, it ain't like he's gonna kick us out."

Scarlett heaved a sigh and flopped down in the chair by the window. "He said he might this time." She stared out the window, her shoulders drooping.

Giselle got up and padded barefoot to her friend, giving her a quick hug about the shoulders. "Come on Letty, we'll make it work. Don't fret none. I'll work twice as hard, promise."

Scarlett gave her a small smile. "It's just that this is the first place I've had to call 'home' since I came to this wretched town." She waved her hand in disgust. "As piss poor as it is, it's better than no place at all."

Giselle smiled. "Things'll be fine. Just you wait and see." She pointed out the window toward the harbor. "See, what'da I say? There must be three new ships in port since last night. Should be able to make enough for the whole month's rent." She hurried into her gown, prattling on as she fixed her hair. "You just worry too much, Letty. Life's too short t' be worryin' none. Gotta keep a weather eye on the horizon."

Scarlett shook her head. "Who told you that? Jack Sparrow?" She sighed again. "Always promising, always dreaming. Bad enough he's that way, without rubbing off on you."

Giselle frowned. "I don't see how that's such a bad thing. Jack's sweet… and fun, not at all like the others."

"Well, no point settin' your hopes on Jack Sparrow," Scarlett reminded her. "Might as well try to catch the wind, or hold onto the sea."

Giselle didn't answer, just finished dressing and fixing her hair. She paused to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, but if you happen to be in the right place, at the right time, the wind and the sea will seek you out.

--

"Yo ho, yo ho…a pirate's life for me." Jack Sparrow hummed the little ditty to himself as he stood at the helm of the Black Pearl, sensing the wind, instinctively adjusting the ship's course to maintain her speed. "And really bad eggs….drink up me 'earties, yo ho."

He smiled to himself and took a long swallow from the rum bottle in his other hand. He stroked the worn wood of the wheel as a lover would caress his beloved. At that moment in time, all was right in Jack's world. The wind blew back his braided hair, the many trinkets and beads creating their own soft tune in accompaniment to the one he hummed.

The call from above interrupted his thoughts. "Sail ahoy! Three masts."

Pulling out his spyglass, Jack scanned the horizon. "Colors?" he called to his lookout.

There was a momentary pause, then: "French. Looks t' be a merchantman, riding low."

Jack grinned. "Then French it is! Mr. Gibbs! Hoist the colors of those bloody frogs and on her we'll be! Man the windward sheets! We'll be pointing hard!"

He adjusted course, guiding his ship with the gentlest of touches, filling her sails with as much wind as could be had.

In less than four hours, the Pearl caught up with the slower, heavily laden vessel. When they were within hailing distance of the other ship, Jack beckoned Gibbs again. "Let's show 'em our true colors! Alert the larboard gun crews. We'll send a shot across their bow!"

Gibbs scurried away to relay the message to the gun deck below as the Black Pearl bore down on her prey. If the French ship had been uncertain, a loud boom and puff of smoke announced the Pearl's true intent, her French ensign being replaced by a black flag, with grinning skull, raised high.

On the merchant ship, chaos was the order of the day, with men running in panic in every direction, offering no resistance as the Pearl's men swarmed onto their deck. They were easily rounded up and stood in a fearful huddle around the mainmast, guarded by several pirates with pistols and cutlasses at the ready. The remainder of the Black Pearl's crew crowded below, soon returning with their arms full of swag.

Jack boarded and sauntered up to the grizzled French captain. "Parlez-vous Anglais?"

The other captain nodded. "You are English pirates? Perhaps we can come to an accord, oui?"

Jack curled his lip and raised his cutlass to the older gent's throat. "Already have, mate. What part of "pirate" did you not understand?"

The older man shrugged and held his hand up in supplication. "Oui, you have taken a great prize. I only plead for my men to be spared."

Jack gave a short laugh and a devilish grin. "Cooperate fully and no one will be harmed."

Their exchange was interrupted by a shout from below, followed by the appearance of two of Jack's men escorting at gunpoint a middle-aged man and woman.

"Unhand me you murderous rogue!" the portly gentleman sputtered, face red beneath his opulent wig.

Hmmm…Jack thought. A rich merchant from the looks of it.

The woman, a full-figured, imposing creature dressed in the latest of fashion, turned to her companion. "Be quiet, Albert!" she demanded in exasperation. "You're not helping matters!"

Jack frowned and turned to the captain. "You didn't say anything about passengers."

"You did not ask." The Frenchman cringed at the woman's shrill voice. "I was hoping, perhaps, since you are English, you might wish to say… take a hostage or two?" He motioned Jack closer. "Lord Eldridge is a very important man," he added in a low voice, arching his brow. "I am sure he and Lady Eldridge would bring you a very handsome price."

Jack glanced curiously over to see the nobleman with his arms crossed, glaring at his wife, who had not stopped talking since they had been brought above decks.

"Pirates!" she was exclaiming, rolling her eyes. "As if I haven't had enough to endure, on this godforsaken, leaky scow you booked passage on! No accommodations, to speak of, the food is atrocious, the manners of these French dogs beyond belief. And now this! Everything we have is about to be taken from us, by a bunch of filthy pirates!" She gave him a withering look, filled with disgust. "You couldn't even fight like a man! Cowering behind my skirts like a nursling. I've never been so ashamed in my life! I should have listened to my mother, she always told me you'd amount to no good…"

"Madame! Would you please shut it?!" Jack shouted, interrupting her tirade, taking several strides in her direction, eyes bugging out in annoyance. He glowered at her, causing her to take several steps backwards.

She raised a fluttering hand to her breast. "Oh sir, I am a virtuous woman," she began, gasping in excitement. "I beg of you!"

Jack leered at her, as he ran a finger down her plump throat, and around the ornate necklace of glittering gems that sat heavily on her heaving bosom.

He flashed an equally glittering grin. "Beg what of me?" he asked, leaning closer. He lifted the jewels as if to inspect them, allowing his fingers to trail slightly downward. "Not every day I get me a virtuous woman," he added in a suggestive whisper in her ear.

Lady Eldridge's eyes goggled in shock, as she nearly swooned. Her husband stepped forward. "Keep your filthy hands off my wife, you disgusting, flea-bitten cur!" he demanded in a loud voice.

Jack whirled on him and pulled out his pistol, placing the barrel against the nobleman's temple. "I do not have fleas!" he hissed. The man's face blanched white. Jack gave him a moment to reconsider his remark before tucking the gun into his sash and turning back to the woman, whose face had fallen in disappointment.

"Oh please, sir! Do not harm my husband!" She was pleading now, a hand to her brow, as she batted her eyes at Jack. "Take me, if you must. I shall endure."

Jack raised a thoughtful eyebrow. The woman's obviously thrilled by the prospect. T'would be bloody inhospitable not to give her something to remember me by. That pompous arse of a husband of hers doesn't look as if he knows how to please a woman. Bit of a dandy, he is.

"Now Edith, that won't be necessary," Lord Eldridge protested. "I am sure."

Jack smirked and gave a slight bow. "As lovely a thought that is, I must agree with your husband. We desire only your valuables. You can be assured your virtue will remain intact." Seeing the disappointment on her face he chuckled and added, "Think of the tales you'll be able to tell over tea! How you were almost ravished by Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Lady Eldridge's hand fluttered at her breast. "Oh! Captain Sparrow! I have heard stories about you!"

"You won't get away with this, Sparrow," Lord Eldridge told him. "Those goods are property of the East India Trading Company. They don't take lightly to pirates."

Jack glanced briefly at his wrist, his mouth set in a grim line. "All the more reason to relieve them of said property, aye?"

He strode back to the French captain. "You seem to have forgotten to mention whose cargo it was," he pointed out, belligerently.

The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. "I am just a poor man, trying to make a living. They pay in gold, so who am I to argue?" He glanced over at his two English passengers. "Are you sure you do not need a hostage or two?"

The crewmembers of the captured prize watched as the Pearl's men transferred the cargo from one ship to another. Bales of muslin and other cloth, as well as raw silk, made up the largest portion of the goods. Among the other items of value, there were also bags of brown sugar, barrels of rum and casks of wine. The pirates took the majority of livestock as well, carrying chickens, goats and several pigs, squawking and squealing to the Black Pearl.

When the transfer of cargo was complete, the men disabled the French ship's guns and cut the lines, rendering her temporarily helpless, but not scuppered. As a final precaution, the rudder was disabled and all the navigational charts and instruments seized. The pirates returned to their ship, leaving the French crew unharmed, but unable to pursue.

"Thank you, Captain, for your generosity!" Jack shouted across the growing span of water between the ships as the Black Pearl cast off, sweeping his hat off with a bow. "My regards to you, milord, milady!" Then he turned to his crew. "Hands aloft! Make ready for full canvas! All hands, scurry!"

Taking the helm, Jack kept an eye on the merchant ship until it was but a speck on the horizon.

Well, they won't starve; we left them plenty of hardtack and water.

Chuckling, he turned his eyes to the horizon, humming softly. Consulting the compass, he adjusted course, slightly. He knew exactly where to unload his cargo: Tortuga.

The French ship had been a rich prize, indeed. After negotiations were complete, the cargo provided each man on the Pearl enough gold to keep him in rum and wenches for a month. And, with the East India Company most assuredly on the lookout for them, it seemed prudent for all parties involved to lay low for a spell, at least as long as the gold held out.

And, what better place to lay low than the dissolute pirate haven of Tortuga?

Jack trudged up the hill toward town with his quartermaster at his side. "Ah, there is no better place in all the Caribbean, mate," he declared with zeal as he waved a hand about, "than the lusty shores of Tortuga!"

"Aye," Gibbs agreed with gusto. "Ne'er a town so accommodatin' with the essentials of life, either." He nodded his head toward a cluster of wenches under a sign which incongruously read: "Bride Auction."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Never seen that before. Wonder who's marryin' them?" His brows shot even higher, when he saw a familiar face in the group. Jack told Gibbs he'd meet up with him later, and headed toward the auction, his progress hampered by the unusually large crowd of men gathered around the raised platform.

"Looks more like a hangin' t' me," he muttered, jostling for position as the first wench was led up on the block.

The auctioneer was a greasy-haired git, whose pinched features and long, pointed nose reminded Jack of a weasel… or a rat, as the case may be.

"Now which of ye fine gents wants to bid on this lovely lass?" he shouted to the crowd, sweeping a hand toward a buxom lass, of ample proportions who stood next to him atop a crate. "A hearty wench, t' warm yer bed and cook yer meals."

He waited expectedly, only to have the crowd of men yell, "We want the redhead!"

Shaking his head he again pointed to the wench on the block. "Shift yer cargo, dearie," he whispered to her. "Show 'em yer larboard side." The girl cooperated, swiveling her hips and batting her eyes.

Finally, a stringy-haired gent with no teeth started the bidding. "A tuppence."

The auctioneer fellow shook his head in disgust. "Bidding t' start at a shilling; you know the rules, Roberts."

The crowd grew restless, and started to grumble and stomp their feet. "We want the redhead!" they chanted, their mood growing sourer by the minute.

Jack pushed his way through the rabble to the other side where the women were clustered.

"Pssst! Scarlett!" he hissed, trying not to draw the attention of the angry mob that had begun pelting the auctioneer with rotten bits of food and filth from the street.

Scarlett turned wide-eyed toward Jack, the crowd behind him growing more unruly by the minute.

"What in the name of Morgan and Bartholomew is going on?" he demanded.

She pointed toward the raised platform, now covered in filth and slime, the auctioneer no where to be seen. "Gent promised us twice the going rate."

"Best be getting you out of here before…" he began, hooking an arm through hers, turning to come face to face with the mob of drunken men, their eyes intent on the same wench he now gripped firmly by the arm.

Jack grinned and called out cheerfully. "Sorry, already paid for. Plenty more where she came from!" He reached in his pocket and drew out a handful of coins, which he threw at the crowd. "First one's on the house, gents!" Then, amidst the mad scrambling for the fallen coins, he ducked down and ran, pulling Scarlett in his wake.

They didn't slow down until they were safely inside the room, which Scarlett and Giselle shared. Jack sank down in the chair, pausing a moment to catch his breath.

"Would you care to explain what that was all about?" he asked in an exasperated voice as he fanned himself with his hat.

Scarlett flopped down on the bed, at first too winded to reply. Finally, she sat up.

"That was Tortuga at its finest," she said, irritably. Nothing but drunken men, wantin' one thing, same as you, Jack." She unpinned her hair and shook it out over her shoulders. "Exceptin' they were willin' t' pay," she added, bitterly.

Jack shook his head in amazement. "That's a fine way to thank me for savin' you!" he groused. "Silly me! I thought you needed help and…""

"Did you ever think for one moment, Jack Sparrow that perhaps I didn't want to be saved?" she cut in. She brushed her hair, with long, angry strokes, its coppery sheen cascading down her back. "I was hopin' to make the rent money tonight, not be sittin' here entertaining you."

His temper flared. "Not sure where I got the notion. Clearly not from you." Jack stood up and swept a mocking bow toward the door. "Off you go then! Go on back down there and entertain your adoring crowd, I'm sure you'll have loads of fun. Me? I'll find me another wench that will appreciate me company. Shan't have to go far, I assure you!" He headed towards the door and added over his shoulder," And just so you know, I was planning on paying…. and for more than one night." He jammed his hat on his head and slammed the door behind him. He didn't look back, even when "Jack, wait!" came plaintively from behind the door.

Blasted wench! The bloody cheek of her to act as if she wanted that crowd of slavering animals to be ravishing her. Serve her bloody right if they did. Last time ol' Jack'll be running to her rescue. Bloody hell!

TO BE CONTINUED…