Title: Don't Rock The Boat
Rating: M (suggestive situations)
Characters: Jack / Giselle / Scarlett / Gibbs
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with them

Summary: Can Giselle sort out the mess between Jack and Scarlett?

--

Don't Rock The Boat…

Jack's disposition did not improve as the evening wore on. After his attempts at chivalry were unceremoniously dismissed, he'd left Scarlett's room in a right foul mood, and headed down the street toward the waterfront taverns. His immediate goal was to find rum, lots of it. And a salty wench… or perhaps three.

Not like I don't have the coin to toss their way, he rationalized. A man needs a bit of variety, no reason to keep returning to the same trough to feed. Lots of lovely wenches in Tortuga that'd be more than willing to bestow their favors on me. After all, who am I? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, that's who!

Several hours and bottles of rum later, Jack was still sitting by his onesies at the rear of the Faithful Bride. It had seemed every salty wench in Tortuga worth entertaining was off entertaining some other gent. He'd never seen the pickings so slim. Oh, sure, there were a few whores available, but even he had standards.

Bloody difficult for a man to get his pleasures when his goods are tightening up for the wrong reasons! I suppose it's me own bloody fault, for having such discretionary tastes. Never would of imagined it. Hell, the last time we made port, me and the crew couldn't keep up with the demand. Had to weigh anchor earlier than planned, just to give the men a rest.

Jack took another glum look around the room. A familiar face appeared in the crowd, cradling a bottle of rum in one arm and a buxom wench in the other. Gibbs beamed a smile Jack's way and called out to him from across the room.

"Jack! Didn't expect t' be findin' you here all alone. Thought I saw you leavin' with Scarlett."

Gibbs fumbled a sloppy kiss on the plump cheek of the wench next to him and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and batted her eyes, blowing Gibbs a kiss as he bobbed his way over to where Jack was slouched against the wall.

Jack scowled. From the spring in his step and the sheepish grin on his face, it was obvious that even Mister Gibbs had managed a tumble.

Gibbs flopped down on the bench opposite Jack and poured them each a cup of rum. Taking a big swallow, he exhaled with a sigh.

"Ah, nothing like the sweet delights of Tortuga t' give a rise t' a man's spirits."

Jack continued to scowl. Bad enough Gibbs had got him a bit of skirt, but did he have to rub it in as well? He started to retort then froze, mouth agape at the disconcerting sight before him.

There, coming from behind the curtained alcove that led to the upper rooms was another of his crewmen, the diminutive Marty, accompanied by no other than the long and lithe Giselle. She laughed as she bent down to plant a long, seductive kiss on top of his bald head, and then glanced up. Catching Jack's eye, she smiled and waved as she made her way across the room.

"Jack! There you are! Was wonderin' if you were gonna show up." Giselle cocked her head and gave Jack a puzzled look. "Why are you sitting back here all by yerself? There something the matter?" She looked around the crowded tavern. "Where's Scarlett? She didn't kick you out, did she?"

"There is nothing the matter! Can't a man have a drink alone without the whole bloody world fussin' over him?" Jack grabbed the bottle of rum and took a big swig.

Gibbs raised one bushy eyebrow as Giselle slid onto the bench next to him and patted him on the knee. "How ya been, Uncle Josh?"

Jack choked on his rum and set the bottle back down with a thunk. Uncle Josh? He stared dumbfounded at the two of them for a moment, his eyes darting to Marty, who was now perched on a stool at the bar, at nose height to the bouncing bosoms of the wenches on either side of him, then back to Gibbs, who was whispering in a giggling Giselle's ear, then over towards the door where a full-figured blonde was sitting with Mr. Cotton, twittering and feeding peanuts to his parrot.

Jack staggered to his feet. It seems that every woman in the town is only interested in the absurd, a category which I most definitely do not place meself in!

With a sweeping flourish, he placed his hat on his head.

"I'm going to the Pearl," he announced in a drunken slur, listing to port." Where I shall be sleeping!"

No one paid him any heed as he weaved his way through the crowded tavern, and into the street. Feeling rather neglected, Jack headed for the Black Pearl, the one wench in port that still welcomed his company.

--

The next morning dawned bright and balmy, the soft breeze rustled in the palms lining the beach, bringing with it the salty tang of the sea, a much more pleasant odor than the customary stench of Tortuga.

Giselle made her way down the muddy street, being careful not to step on any of the drunken men sprawled along the way. The more sober ones had managed to crawl to a doorway; the rest just lay where they fell. Giselle was not accustomed to being out so early, and therefore, was not prepared for the unpleasantries of the aftermath of a wild Tortugan night. The town reeked of old vomit, piss, and rum, overlaid with the musky scent of unwashed man. A proliferous bouquet, she had once heard Jack Sparrow call it.

To find the said pirate captain was what had drawn Giselle out of her bed at this ungodly hour. And, seeing how his last declared destination had been his ship, it seemed the logical place to begin her search. She arrived at the docks, with no idea how she was going to manage to get a message out to the Black Pearl, resting at anchor in the bay. To her relief, she saw a familiar soul, curled up asleep on the wharf.

"Mister Gibbs!" Giselle called to the grizzled sailor slumbering in the shade of a stack of barrels.

Gibbs groaned and peered up at her with rheumy eyes and blinked several times as if trying to focus. "Miss Giselle?"

"Where'd ya get that?" She smiled and nudged the item in question with the toe of her shoe.

He snatched the small stuffed bear and made to hide it. "Was just keepin' it safe fer someone," he mumbled.

Giselle laughed. "Secret's safe with me!" She pointed out at the black ship." How'd I get out there? I need to talk t' Jack."

Gibbs stood up and shook his head. "No, no, no. It's fearful bad luck to have a woman on board."

"I don't want to sail on the bloomin' thing!" Giselle put her hands on her hips. "I just need to talk t' Jack about Scarlett."

"What about Scarlett?" Gibbs asked, scratching his head. "She ill or somethin'?"

Giselle shook her head. "She's upset, that's all; sobbed her eyes out all night." She paused for a moment. "Ain't got no one else to ask, not in this town no how. Jack's as close as we get t' havin' a friend."

"I imagine it's not the first time the Cap'n's broke a young lady's heart, but I'm doubting you can do much 'bout it."

"Scarlett ain't cryin' over Jack!" Giselle snorted. "If anything, she's wantin' to smack him one. Like she'll do t' me if she finds out I came here." She pointed at a small boat. "I really need to talk to Jack. Can you take me out there?"

Gibbs gave her a puzzled look. "I'll take you out there, but there ain't no way of knowin' what mood Jack's in."

Giselle smiled. "As long as he's alone, it'll be fine."

--

Jack was alone, which was part of the problem. And the cause of that current problem was competing with another problem, which was becoming the bigger problem.

Bugger! Bad enough to wake with a cockstand fit to burst, but t' have me head fit to burst as well is bloody unfair! What I bloody need is a wench and a bottle of…

A thump on the side of the hull interrupted his thoughts. NOW what? he groaned.

"Jack?" A voice called from outside the cabin door.

I know that voice! Distinctly female persuasion…most definitely.

"Jack! It's Giselle, I need t' talk t' you."

A wondrous and most opportune moment indeed. How did that saying go? Ask and thou shall…

"I need t' talk t' you about Scarlett."

Not good. The wench has sent out her minion to do the dirty work for her. Well! If she thinks, for one moment, I am going to…

He started towards the door, but it opened before he could reach it. Giselle stood with her hands on hips. She glanced at his face, a fine brow arching as her eyes moved downward to rest on his obvious predicament.

"It's nice t' see you too, Jack."

He grinned at her and held his arms out. "Giselle!" he purred, in desperate need of attention, having been sorely neglected the night before.

Giselle pushed by him and flopped down in the chair next to the table. She stretched out her legs and sighed, smothering a huge yawn. "Too tired, Jack. Was up all night."

Jack let his arms drop limp to his sides. "Oh" He rummaged around until he found a partial bottle of rum and took a healthy swallow. Hair of the dog and all that.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, if I am not to enjoy the pleasure of your company?" Jack raised a brow and took another large swallow of rum, relishing its burn down his throat, the throb in his head beginning to ease. The same, however, could not be said for his other parts.

Giselle tilted her head back and gazed at the black wood of the cabin ceiling. With her head thrown back, all that lovely bare skin was offering a temptation Jack found difficult to resist. His mouth twitched as he envisioned his lips on that smooth white throat, wandering downward across those milky breasts so plump and tantalizing…

"…and so we only have today and tomorrow to…" Giselle paused. "Are you even listening to me?"

Jack shook his head to clear it. "Uh, what? Sorry, love. Was driftin' a bit there. You were sayin'?"

Giselle sighed, and rose. She came over, and reached out a hand and…

Jack ducked instinctively.

"Now, what'da do that for?" Giselle cocked her head and giggled. "Just thought I might lend a hand, seein' how yer sort of standing there at attention, with no one t' salute!"

Jack smirked. I knew she couldn't resist!

--

Giselle was not usually the devious type. She prided herself on being open with others and tended to keep an optimistic outlook even in the bleakest of times. But, sometimes circumstances called for a more covert route, in order to accomplish what needed to be done.

This was one of those times.

"Jack?" she paused in her ministrations, which were being quite effective, if the groans emitting from further up were any evidence.

"Mmmmm?" came a muffled response.

Giselle smiled and resumed attending to Jack's persistent problem, but paused just when she felt he was on the edge of release.

"Will you do it?" she asked, this time eliciting more than a groan.

"Bloody hell, woman! Don't stop now!"

Giselle smiled. "First, say you'll do it." She teased him with her tongue and hands, nimble fingers exploring, sensing his resolve crumbing as she did.

"Yes, fine! I'll do it." His words ended on a shuddering moan as she took him the rest of the way.

Giselle smiled as she stood up and straightened out her skirts. Jack opened one eye and glanced up at her, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Where'd you learn that?" he asked, still trying to catch his breath.

"We need to hurry," she said, changing the subject. "If were gonna make it in time."

Jack hitched up on his elbows. "Make it where?"

His innocent expression didn't fool her. "Jack! You promised to help Scarlett and me."

"Bloody wench doesn't want me help," he declared, waving his hand. "Told me so herself. Would be wastin' me time."

Giselle laughed. "Well, of course she'd say that. Girl's as stubborn as you! Never stopped you before though, did it?"

Jack flopped back on the bunk and studied his nails. "Why ask me? Plenty of other blighters on shore that'd be willin' to trade for her favors."

Giselle didn't answer, just gave him a solid kick in the shins.

"Why'd you do that for?" Jack sat up, a peevish look on his face.

"You promised to help!" Giselle wasn't about to let Jack off that easily.

Jack squinted up at her. "And what is it, exactly, I'm suppose t' be doin'?"

Giselle sighed and perched on the edge of the bunk. "It's like I told you. Mr. Beasley, or more like Mrs. Beasley, if you ask me, she's got him t' raise the rent on us. Doubled it! We were havin' trouble before makin' the rent. No way we can afford it now. He says havin' us livin' above the shop is hurtin' his business." She laughed. "More like his wife not likin' him oglin' us like he does. Always wantin' t' touch, he is."

She grasped Jack by the hand. "All we need is someone to talk to him, tell him we ain't causin' no trouble. He won't listen to a woman, but a man…someone well-known, with a reputation like yours…well, he might listen to reason."

He withdrew his hand from her grasp and stroked his beard. "Some one like me, eh?" Jack had a skeptical yet intrigued look on his face.

Encouraged, Giselle pressed on. "I know it's not much of a place, but Scarlett's got her heart set on havin' someplace t' call home. Wants t' hang a bloomin' window box, plant flowers! She needs yer help, Jack. Please?"

"Why should I hasten to her rescue? Tried that, and was told to bugger off." He shrugged and laid back on the bunk, and resumed studying his nails. "Sorry, you'll have t' deal with it yourself. I see no profit in it for me."

Giselle grabbed his hand again. "I know you and Scarlett had a bit of a spat. She was bawling all night over it. But could you please?"

Jack sat up and frowned, pointing a finger at Giselle. "I am not goin' t' help where me help is not wanted. You two wenches are goin' t' have t' sort it out yourselves. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a crew to round up and a ship t' make ready t' sail."

He pushed her aside and strode to the door. "Mr. Gibbs!"

Gibbs poked his head in the door. "Aye, Cap'n?"

Jack jerked a thumb toward Giselle. "See she gets to shore and round up the crew. Been a change of plans. We'll sail on the evening tide."

Gibbs gave them a puzzled look. "Aye, aye, Cap'n." He nodded to Giselle. "Best we do as he says, lass."

"Fine! I was just leavin' anyways." Giselle stormed out of the cabin in a swirl of skirts, furious at Jack for lying, but more at herself for believing him. Maybe Scarlett was right after all. There was no depending on Jack.

TO BE CONTINUED…