Title: A Port in a Storm
Rating: M (overall series)
Characters: Jack, Scarlett, Giselle… with some special guest appearances
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with them
Summary: While Scarlett and Thomas hasten to Giselle's rescue, Jack Sparrow finds that three's most definitely a crowd in Nassau town.
Note: A special thank you goes out to compassrose7577, who has graciously allowed me to pilfer her Thomas for my series. Pierre Bouspeut, Anne Bonny and Calico Jack Rackham are OC's from the realms of history, though I have taken some liberties with them.
--
A Port in a Storm
Scarlett hurried after the tall captain, half running to keep up with his long strides. Her heart beating wildly, she could only imagine the horror she would find. No stranger to violence, Scarlett had seen first hand the damage that could be inflicted upon one of her kind. Giselle was always so trusting, a perfect target for the depraved who wanted a cheap thrill at the expense of another. Life was cheap in Tortuga…and sometimes too, too short.
The night was typical of most, with drunken revelers thronging the streets, the air filled with shouts and the sound of random gunfire. As they made their way through the crowds, Thomas took her by the elbow, keeping her close while his other hand rested on his pistol. His destination was the waterfront; he had expressed worry about his ship, the Griselle. The message that had been delivered had been garbled, in broken English. Perhaps she had heard wrong, and it wasn't her friend who'd been attacked. Scarlett could only hope.
Reaching the docks, Thomas scanned the harbor, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that his ship was unharmed, anchored serenely in the deeper water of the bay. He turned to Scarlett, with concern in his eyes.
"Where would your friend be? Did they say?"
Scarlett bit her lip in dismay, trying not to cry as she shook her head. "No, just that she'd been attacked. I don't even know if she's alive." Her voice cracked and she ducked her head, unshed tears burning her eyes.
Thomas took her arm with a gentle touch, tucking it beneath his. "Well, we'll just have to start searching 'til we find her."
"You would do that?" Scarlett looked up in surprise. "You don't even know her."
His face somber he said with conviction, "If she is a friend of yours, it's the least I can do." He smiled then, his blue eyes kind.
Scarlett took his hand. "Thank you. I will find a way to repay you."
"I may take you up on that offer," he chuckled. "Like I said before, it's been a long time since I've had the pleasure of a woman's company. Where should we look first?" he added, in a more serious voice.
Scarlett squared her shoulders, a sense of relief flooding her. "The Faithful Bride, she always liked it there."
--
Nassau was much like Tortuga: full of pirates looking to spend their swag on drinking and wenching. The Strutting Cock was crowded that night, but Jack Sparrow and his companions managed to find a table in a secluded back corner, the three of them squeezing onto the only available bench. Jack wasn't averse to being pressed tight against Anne Bonny, although he would have preferred a few less layers of clothes. Pierre Bouspeut, on the other hand, was making it quite clear he did not mind being pressed up against Jack, undoubtedly with the same sentiments.
Jack draped an arm around Anne's shoulders and signaled to the serving girl for some rum. Anne ran a hand along Jack's thigh, causing him to squirm uncomfortably in his seat, his breeches becoming much tighter than would be normal. It wasn't something that would normally make him uncomfortable, except there was another hand tracking the same course along his other thigh.
It's a bloody conspiracy, no doubt. Been wanting me a threesome, but something more in the way of me being the only gent. Not quite according to plan.
Not quite indeed. Jack slid his free hand under the table and slapped Pierre's roaming hand. All he got in return for his efforts was a pout and a squeeze.
"Oi! Watch it there!" Jack sidled closer to Anne, who was now openly kissing his neck and moving downward. He made his own forays south, finding some tantalizing hills and valleys in his explorations. Not to be outdone, Pierre managed to find a few of his own, causing Jack to pause, eyebrows raised in warning. It was becoming quite difficult to know whose hands were where.
Like being attacked by a bloody kraken.
Too busy with their own lusty pursuits, no one in the tavern paid the trio any heed.
The arrival of the rum provided a welcomed diversion. Wriggling out of their grasps, Jack threw back a long swallow.
"Is that Rackham I see there, coming in the door?" he declared in bright relief.
Anne sat up with a start and peered through the miasma of the room. "Where? I don't see him. Did he see us?" She scooted over a discrete distance, hastily buttoning her shirt.
"Deux chiens et un os rarement d'accord," Pierre pouted.
"Come again?" Jack furrowed his brow in concentration. "Two dogs, one bone, eh?"
"She wants you both, but her new Jack, he is not so willing to share, oui?"
It was indeed Rackham; anyone could recognize him anywhere, with those calico breeches.
"You make those for him?" Jack inquired of Pierre.
Pierre crossed his arms and sat up affronted. "Those monstrosities? I would rather die than be forced to make such a hideous garment. The man has no sense of taste, whatsoever!"
"Pierre!" It was Anne's turn to pout.
"Present company excluded, I am sure." Jack Sparrow added, always helpful.
Jack Rackham caught sight of them and strolled over, one hand resting on the butt of his gun. "Hello, Anne. Wondered where you'd gone off to."
The man had the look of a jealous lover about him, not a good sign. Jack Sparrow had already avoided one fight that night, if the bout with the dummies was to be discounted. Not eager to engage in another, especially with a hothead like Rackham, Jack decided it was time to employ diversionary tactics.
"Your Annie was kind enough to accompany meself and Pierre here, for a celebratory drink, in honor of Pierre's new commission." Jack flashed a gold-edged grin meant to charm at Rackham.
"Is that so?" Rackham slid onto the bench, forcing the already too cozy threesome to squeeze even closer. Wrapping his arm around Anne's shoulders Rackham gave her a possessive kiss and a quick fondle, before taking a swig of rum. "And what sort of commission are you celebrating? Not like that last one I hope."
Wearing a puzzled look, Anne started to say something, but Jack Sparrow kicked her under the table arching his eyebrows, and she remained silent.
"Why I have hired Pierre to create me several of his famous masterpieces for a brace of lovely lasses I keep back in Tortuga," Sparrow announced casually. "Been promising them new frocks for months."
"Toujours ravi d'être de service!" Pierre beamed. Encouraged, he ran his hand along Jack's thigh once more.
Deciding the evening was not going according to plan, and seeing no way to salvage a tumble with Annie out of it, Sparrow made to leave. Well, he tried to rise. The close proximity of the others made the maneuver nigh impossible. Sighing, he sank back down onto the bench and slapped Pierre's roving hand away again.
"Don't believe we've been properly introduced," Rackham said, still suspicious.
"This is Jack Sparrow," Annie said, waving a hand in his direction.
"Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Really." Rackham eyed Jack, who was surreptitiously trying to extract his thigh out of Pierre's grasp. "Known her long, have ye?"
Jack gave his most innocent look and shook his head. "Made her acquaintance just this day. Went to see Pierre here, happened she were in the shop at the time."
Rackham relaxed at that, and ordered another round of drinks.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief and took a long swallow of rum. Annie always seemed to pick the hot heads.
"So, how'd you two meet?" Jack inquired, diligently attempting to maintain his casual air.
"Me, I saw her here at the tavern one night," Rackham replied, smiling at Anne. "Was love at first sight. There she was, standing on top of one of the tables, a pistol in one hand, waving a cutlass around in the other, daring anyone to defy her." He shook his head. "Knew at that moment I had t' have her. Ain't that right, Anne?"
"Would have won too, if you hadn't interrupted," Anne grinned.
Jack Sparrow rubbed his chin. Have no doubts about that!
"Decided t' court her in the same manner I did when attacking a prize," Rackham continued. "With no time wasted, straight up alongside, every gun brought to play, and the prize boarded."
Jack, who had boarded said prize numerous times in the past, smiled to himself, thinking that perhaps Rackham would be wise to keep an eye out for that jealous husband of hers. Glancing around the room, he spotted Gibbs pressed up against the bar, chatting to one of those full-figured wenches he was so partial to. Jack decided it was time to go.
"As much as I've been enjoying the pleasure of your company, I need to speak to my quartermaster over there. Now if you'll excuse me…"
Jack squeezed by Pierre, who managed a fortuitous squeeze of his own before Jack was able to escape.
"What about my commission?" Pierre asked.
"Offer still stands," Jack declared, donning his hat. "I would like two gowns, one gold, one scarlet." He sketched a female form in the air with his hands. "About this size. Will pick them up next time I'm in port." He threw a handful of gold on the table, and turned to leave, pausing to give Anne and her new beau a slight bow. "A pleasure to meet you both," he said, with a wink to Anne on the side.
Gibbs looked up in surprise as Jack grabbed him by the elbow and steered him towards the door.
"Cap'n?"
"Round up the crew," Jack murmured, suddenly serious. "We weigh anchor on the next tide."
"Where to now?" Gibbs gave Jack a perplexed look.
Jack glanced once more time at Anne and her new paramour, the pouty Pierre at their side. Complications as they were, best for all to be putting this town to his rudder…. and soon.
He flashed a quick grin at Gibbs. "Tortuga."
--
They found Giselle in a back storeroom of the Faithful Bride, lying on a pile of burlap sacks. In the feeble candle light she was barely recognizable, her face swollen and bruised.
With a small cry, Scarlett fell on her knees next to her friend and took her hand. "Giselle?" she whispered, tears now flowing freely. "Giselle, it's Letty. Can you hear me?"
A small moan came through cracked lips, as Giselle turned her head in a fitful gesture. Both eyes were swollen shut, but a slight squeeze of her fingers acknowledged she recognized Scarlett's presence.
"I'm here now; you'll be all right, I promise." Scarlett brushed the tears from her face, her heart breaking. "I should never have left you alone. I was afraid something like this would happen."
Thomas squatted down next to Scarlett and took a closer look at Giselle. Scurrying sounds behinds the barrels and crates told of rats, Scarlett shuddering in response.
"You need to get her someplace decent," Thomas said glancing around the room.
"I have no place else to take her!" Scarlett pleaded in dismay. "We had a room once, but our landlord evicted us. And now, rushing off as I did, I probably have lost my position at the Garden as well."
Thomas gave Giselle another thoughtful look then snapped his fingers with a decision. "We'll take her to the Griselle. We'll be in port for at least a week; that will give you time to make some arrangements." He put up finger up to Scarlett's lips and hushed her sputtering protest. "None of that. The poor girl needs help. It's the least I can do."
"I'll settle things with the landlord," he said, rising and heading for the door. "I'm sure he'll be expecting compensation for his help in the matter. Stay here with her."
Scarlett didn't have to be told twice. She sat in the candle light, holding Giselle's hand and said a prayer of thanks to a God she wasn't sure she even believed in anymore.