Playlist: 'Catatonic' from Sherlock Holmes.

4

There was a ship, she sailed to Spain
There was a ship came home again
What d'ye think was in her hold?
There was diamonds, there was gold
Many a sailorman gets drowned
Many a sailorman gets drowned.

"Now, what's the nature of this venture of yourn?" Gibbs growled eagerly.

It was good to see Gibbs again. He was one of the only decent sort Jack had ever known.

Descended from decentness, as it were. A nice way of saying he'd been in the good way of things, but ended up a drunkard at the bottom of the filthiest town in all the Caribbean.
It would be good for him to get away. On a real adventure. With a real promise of the Pearl, a good living, and less pigs.

'Catatonic'.

"I'm going after the Black Pearl." Jack stated. Gibbs almost choked on his drink - Jack frowned at him for being so melodramatic. "I know where it's going to be, and I'm going to take it."
He said it with such assurance already.
Good. It was useful to be positive.
Things would end up his way somehow. He could feel it, now, more than he ever had. Like rising light on the edge of a gathering storm. Far, but certain.

Gibbs stared at him in mild horror.
"Jack, it's a fool's errand. Why, you know better than me the tales of the Black Pearl!" he insisted.
Down to earth Gibbs. Would he ever learn a sense of adventure? Jack warmed to him silently.
"That's why I know what Barbossa is up to. All I need is a crew."
"From what I hear tell of Captain Barbossa, he's not a man to suffer fools, nor strike a bargain with one."
"Well, then I'd say it's a very good thing I'm not a fool then, eh?" Jack came back just as quick, eyes glinting as much as his golden smile.
"Prove me wrong." Gibbs challenged, "What makes ye think Barbossa will give up his ship to you?"

Jack gave him a knowing, wily smirk.

"Let's just say I've got a bit to barter with."
Gibbs grunted his misunderstanding.
"I've been dealt a good hand."
"Eh?"
"It's going to be a simple matter of exchange and transaction."
"Jack, just tell me what ye got."

Jack nodded very obviously towards Will.
Will was looking, very amusingly, at a lass Jack had had the pleasure of meeting just a month ago.
She was batting her big eyes at him and touching her hair in the most discracefully erotic manner.
His stomach twitched a little as he realised he felt repulsion.
She hadn't been that bad.
But then - well, she wasn't the classiest wench, was she?

Gibbs didn't get it. Jack had to nod a good few times more before he did. Then his brow furrowed.
"The kid?"
Jack nodded, perhaps a little too exaggeratedly. He adored the feel of ale in his brain.
"That is the child of Bootstrap Bill Turner. His only child. Savvy?"
"Is he, now?" Gibbs grinned like a hyena as the pieces finally fell into place for him. "Exchange, says you. I think I feel a change in the wind, says I. I'll find us a crew! There's bound to be some sailors on this rock crazy as you!"

Jack's chest was tight with excitement.
It was one thing to come up with a wonderfully wicked scheme and revel in his own cleverness. It was quite another thing to have a fellow vagabond, a partner in crime, to chuckle along with him.
This was what he had been waiting for.
He had his life back.

"One can only hope." he joked in reply to Gibbs' jibe. "Take what you can."
He held aloft his mug in triumph.
"Give nothing back!" Gibbs clunked tankards with him, and they drained their ale as a toast.

A toast to the good ol' life.

Music Stops.

"Mr. Cotton! Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"

Good line. He loved his little sprouts of genius.
He wished everybody else would look a little more impressed with him too.
Cotton was being very rude. Not a good start.
"Mr. Cotton! Answer, man!"
"Ah, he's a mute, sir." Gibbs put in helpfully.
His round face was tense with excitement and anxiety - eager to please, and bloody useless as always.

Great. Jack thought, heart sinking, Bloody flabbergobbing brilliant. Midgets and mutes now. Summed up this whole flamin' crew in a nutshell.

Will didn't seem to believe Jack's false heartiness about the situation either.
And - a woman on board. A woman he was in trouble with.
... Was there such a thing as a woman he wasn't in trouble with?

Well, yes. Just the one. But probably not for long.

The crew were just about finishing up with moving their meagre belongings on board. Jack hadn't allowed for a night's stop at the nearest inn.
Time was precious. Barbossa was wily. He had the medallion, but he still didn't have the blood. He would start thinking about that soon, start to wonder about the son that Bootstrap had sent the missing piece off to, start to form plans, start to move around.
He would only stay at the Isle de Muerta long enough to drop off the medallion in its rightful place and empty the Pearl's loot.

Will climbed aboard last from the longboat, and came to stand beside Jack at the wheel.

Surprising he hadn't made better friends with the other members of the crew by now - most of them seemed to be thinking along Gibbs' lines of 'good-hearted piracy'. Maybe it was becoming a new trend. If so, it ought to be flogged out of them before they started breeding a race of moral scoundrels. The last thing the pirate kind needed, what with - that unpleasant business.

His hand twitched to the 'P' stamped on his arm for a moment.

"Lay aloft and loose all sail!" he snapped at the crew, who hurriedly threw their belongings into safe corners and jumped up the rigging obediently. "Sheet home lower topsails, hoist the topsails, you know how it works! Hopefully..."

Will rocked slightly on his heels, hands behind his back, looking innocently about at the rush, like the ship's dog or something. Jack glared at him.
"Something holding you up, Turner?"
Will had never seen Jack's real Captain face before. So he didn't pay all that much attention to it.

"Your crew might be a bit odd, but they're fine sailors." he commented eagerly.
"All but one."
"Hmm?"
"Why are you standing here? Go, go on! Weigh the anchor with the rest of 'em."
"But... what?"
"Part of the crew! Hop to it, scurry!"
"But -"
"What? You thought you were my personal assistant? If I had a personal assistant they'd be blonde and female. Wearing a tight corset and not much else."

Will looked at him in mild exasperation and confusion, then stomped off to learn how to sail a ship properly. Jack noticed Gibbs surreptitiously taking him under his wing and chuckled.

Just a few hours later, and a right storm had blown up.
Jack clutched his compass in one hand and steered with all his might with the other. His smile was set in grim, gleeful determination. He could feel victory pulling him closer, pulling him even through the high winds and higher waves. It wanted him to win.

He heard William shouting something about his compass to Gibbs, and the old pirate's joyful reply.

Then suddenly Gibbs was staggering over against the tilt of the ship, an awed expression on his white-bearded face.
It took Jack a moment to realise that this wondering gaze was directed at him.

What must he look like, grinning, wide eyed, unwavering? A madman at worst, the very devil at best.

"What's in your head that's put you in such a fine mood, Captain?"

Jack's eyes flashed, and the surge of victory washed over him again, like the fine cold spray of the wild, tossing sea.
"We're catching up."