FIC: Rum, Women and Sails
Title: Rum, Women and Sails
Author: mamazano
Pairing/characters: none in the end
Rating: PG-13 (some suggestive moments)
Summary: Jack and Gibbs share their views of rum, women and ships.
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with them
Author's notes: This was for Prompt # 109. Piratey talk between Gibbs and Jack concerning their appreciation for women, rum and the Pearl.
Special thanks goes to
compassrose7577 for her diligent beta-reading and amazing ability to channel both Gibbs and Jack. An amazing talent.
Rum, Women and Sails
The tavern was bustling with activity as the two men threaded their way through the boisterous crowd. Several ships had recently made port and their crews were wasting no time spending their share of plunder. A bevy of buxom wenches circulated among the men, willing to help relieve them of some of their coin as well.
“Ah, the sweet proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga!”
Jack Sparrow breathed deeply and waved his hand around as he flopped down on a bench in his favorite corner of the Faithful Bride. Leaning back against the wall, he propped his boots on the table.
“Aye, there’s none quite like it.” Joshamee Gibbs agreed with his captain, taking a long swallow from the tankard in front of him. “Rum’s good, too.”
Jack settled back in his seat and poured a mug of rum, pausing to examine the bottle with a thoughtful eye, his fingers tracing the smooth curve suggestive of hip and waist.
“Nothing quite like a fine rum, wouldn’t you say Mister Gibbs?”
Gibbs swallowed another mouthful and wiped his mouth with an appreciative nod as his eye followed the slow path of Jack’s fingers.
“Aye, Cap’n. A fine rum’s almost good as a salty wench.”
Jack slid his hand down the smooth curve of the bottle and nodded.
“Feels almost as good as it tastes. Nothing better to warm a man’s soul and give a rise to his… spirits.”
“’Twas not just me spirits I was a’hopin’ would get lifin’ t’night, if ye take my meanin’,” Gibbs said with a suggestive waggle of his brows.
“I see your meaning, Mister Gibbs, and a meritorious and suggestively significant suggestion it ‘tis. But which?” he queried with another grand sweep of his hand. “It’s a veritable menu, demanding only the discerning eye and discretionary taste.”
The two scanned the room, with well-seasoned eyes.
“Ah! Now, see that one,” Jack said, dropping his feet to the floor and leaning forward with interest.
Gibbs followed his captain’s finger, squinting to see through the miasma of smoke, jerking with incredulity.
“Which one? The one in blue?”
“No!” Jack gave Gibbs a withering look. “Gads, man, she’s ugly enough to grow warts on a wharf. The next one, in yellow.”
Gibbs looked again. “Her?” He shook his head and buried his nose in his tankard. “There be foul weather there,” he mumbled then shuddered.
Jack sat back, frowning. “What? She’s a fair cut to her jib.”
Gibbs leaned closer beckoning Jack nearer. “Squeals like a pig, she does,” he whispered loudly. “So loud, she brings the Guard-thinkin’ as was she were bein’ beat or kilt.”
Jack sat back, straightening his coat, scowling. “Certainly can put a damper on a man’s evening.” He slid another look, cautious, reconsidering. “Squeals, eh?”
“Enough to put off a man’s mind what a man’s paid fer.”
“Ah!” Jack’s face fell. “I see your point.”
They fell quiet, scanning the room, until Gibbs made a satisfied noise.
“That one.”
Jack followed Gibbs’ eyes, his mouth taking a distasteful turn. He sat back, shaking his head.
“Walks like she’s wading upstream. And her friend could turn a parade up an alley,” Jack added quickly to cut off Gibbs’ next suggestion.
With their noses buried in their tankards, they surreptitiously scouted, Gibbs’ eyes finally widening with discovery.
“There!”
Setting his tankard down, Jack swiveled a look of disbelief. “You’re jesting, mate!”
The wide-eyed look of appreciation in Gibbs’ eyes told him otherwise.
“I prefer me hulls narrow and fast,” Jack announced with conviction and a fist thump on the table. “With good-“ His hands fluttered across his shirt. “Buoyancy.” He reexamined his first mate’s choice. “Little broad at the waterline, isn’t she? And long in the tooth!”
“That where ye be wrong, Cap’n,” Gibbs sighed, his eyes rolling closing. “Those are full sails and years o’wisdom.”
Jack tilted his head and closed one eye. “’Pears more full stern, to me.”
Just then they caught the eye of two winsome wenches, as fine a pair of lasses as one might hope to find in Tortuga. The first, a full figured blonde with a set of sails and bow to do any man proud. Her companion was a black haired beauty with sleek lines and tight rigging.
The two buxom wenches glanced over at the men and winked. Jack sat up with a glittering grin and gestured magnanimously to the women who flounced their way across the crowded room, settling one either side of them, leaning forward provocatively, giving the appreciative gents an appetizing sample of what wares might be hidden beneath their low cut bodices.
“Ah, now this is whys I comes to Tortuga,” Gibbs said appreciatively as the flaxen hair vixen on his left ran a slightly grimy hand up his equally grimy sleeve.
“Tis a sight for sore eyes, aye.” Jack smiled goldenly at the black hair minx to his right. He leaned over and tasted her wares, slipping a tongue in her mouth and a hand up her skirt, as she applied a skilled and nimble hand to his crotch.
“Nothing quite like a fine wench, wouldn’t you say Mister Gibbs?”
“Aye, Cap’n. A fine wench is a fine thing to be sure.”
Jack slid his free hand along the curvaceous side of the woman now poised delicately on his lap.
“Feels almost as good as it tastes. Nothing better to warm a man’s soul and give a rise to his… spirits.”
He was leaning over to sample those wares once more when he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Two very familiar women were heading their way, with frowns on their faces and determination in their eyes.
“Time to go!”
Jack unceremoniously tipped the girl from his lap onto the bench and rose, quickly donning his hat as he headed for the exit. Gibbs, his mind a bit muddled by the rum extracted himself from the grasp of the blonde and followed his captain without question, though a bit disappointed.
The slap caught Gibbs by surprise. Jack, who had ducked the first assault, caught the second full on, reeling slightly from the blow.
“YOU!!” A voice screeched in Jack’s ear and then, without waiting to hear more he was heading pell-mell for the safety of his ship, Gibbs hot on his heels, the two strumpets they’d stood up close behind.
Safely aboard the Pearl Jack looked back at the dock where the two irate females were still shouting obscenities at him and Gibbs. He rubbed his hand along the ship’s rail and said philosophically, “You know Mister Gibbs... a fine rum is good, a fine wench even better. But a man’s ship is much more better than both.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Gibbs said, ruefully rubbing his chin and lamenting silently the loss opportunities of the night.
They made their way to the helm, where Jack took the wheel in his hands and observed, “The feel of a ship’s wheel in your hand, the taste of the sea, the rise and fall of the decks, like a woman under-“ Jack stopped, giving Gibbs an awkward smile. “Sorry.” He paused to adjust his goods. “Lost meself there, for a moment.” His gaze shifted back to the view before him. “Ah yes! Why there’s nothing better to warm a man’s soul and give a rise to his spirits. ”
Gibbs nodded in agreement. “Safer, too.”
Author: mamazano
Pairing/characters: none in the end
Rating: PG-13 (some suggestive moments)
Summary: Jack and Gibbs share their views of rum, women and ships.
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with them
Author's notes: This was for Prompt # 109. Piratey talk between Gibbs and Jack concerning their appreciation for women, rum and the Pearl.
Special thanks goes to
compassrose7577 for her diligent beta-reading and amazing ability to channel both Gibbs and Jack. An amazing talent.
Rum, Women and Sails
The tavern was bustling with activity as the two men threaded their way through the boisterous crowd. Several ships had recently made port and their crews were wasting no time spending their share of plunder. A bevy of buxom wenches circulated among the men, willing to help relieve them of some of their coin as well.
“Ah, the sweet proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga!”
Jack Sparrow breathed deeply and waved his hand around as he flopped down on a bench in his favorite corner of the Faithful Bride. Leaning back against the wall, he propped his boots on the table.
“Aye, there’s none quite like it.” Joshamee Gibbs agreed with his captain, taking a long swallow from the tankard in front of him. “Rum’s good, too.”
Jack settled back in his seat and poured a mug of rum, pausing to examine the bottle with a thoughtful eye, his fingers tracing the smooth curve suggestive of hip and waist.
“Nothing quite like a fine rum, wouldn’t you say Mister Gibbs?”
Gibbs swallowed another mouthful and wiped his mouth with an appreciative nod as his eye followed the slow path of Jack’s fingers.
“Aye, Cap’n. A fine rum’s almost good as a salty wench.”
Jack slid his hand down the smooth curve of the bottle and nodded.
“Feels almost as good as it tastes. Nothing better to warm a man’s soul and give a rise to his… spirits.”
“’Twas not just me spirits I was a’hopin’ would get lifin’ t’night, if ye take my meanin’,” Gibbs said with a suggestive waggle of his brows.
“I see your meaning, Mister Gibbs, and a meritorious and suggestively significant suggestion it ‘tis. But which?” he queried with another grand sweep of his hand. “It’s a veritable menu, demanding only the discerning eye and discretionary taste.”
The two scanned the room, with well-seasoned eyes.
“Ah! Now, see that one,” Jack said, dropping his feet to the floor and leaning forward with interest.
Gibbs followed his captain’s finger, squinting to see through the miasma of smoke, jerking with incredulity.
“Which one? The one in blue?”
“No!” Jack gave Gibbs a withering look. “Gads, man, she’s ugly enough to grow warts on a wharf. The next one, in yellow.”
Gibbs looked again. “Her?” He shook his head and buried his nose in his tankard. “There be foul weather there,” he mumbled then shuddered.
Jack sat back, frowning. “What? She’s a fair cut to her jib.”
Gibbs leaned closer beckoning Jack nearer. “Squeals like a pig, she does,” he whispered loudly. “So loud, she brings the Guard-thinkin’ as was she were bein’ beat or kilt.”
Jack sat back, straightening his coat, scowling. “Certainly can put a damper on a man’s evening.” He slid another look, cautious, reconsidering. “Squeals, eh?”
“Enough to put off a man’s mind what a man’s paid fer.”
“Ah!” Jack’s face fell. “I see your point.”
They fell quiet, scanning the room, until Gibbs made a satisfied noise.
“That one.”
Jack followed Gibbs’ eyes, his mouth taking a distasteful turn. He sat back, shaking his head.
“Walks like she’s wading upstream. And her friend could turn a parade up an alley,” Jack added quickly to cut off Gibbs’ next suggestion.
With their noses buried in their tankards, they surreptitiously scouted, Gibbs’ eyes finally widening with discovery.
“There!”
Setting his tankard down, Jack swiveled a look of disbelief. “You’re jesting, mate!”
The wide-eyed look of appreciation in Gibbs’ eyes told him otherwise.
“I prefer me hulls narrow and fast,” Jack announced with conviction and a fist thump on the table. “With good-“ His hands fluttered across his shirt. “Buoyancy.” He reexamined his first mate’s choice. “Little broad at the waterline, isn’t she? And long in the tooth!”
“That where ye be wrong, Cap’n,” Gibbs sighed, his eyes rolling closing. “Those are full sails and years o’wisdom.”
Jack tilted his head and closed one eye. “’Pears more full stern, to me.”
Just then they caught the eye of two winsome wenches, as fine a pair of lasses as one might hope to find in Tortuga. The first, a full figured blonde with a set of sails and bow to do any man proud. Her companion was a black haired beauty with sleek lines and tight rigging.
The two buxom wenches glanced over at the men and winked. Jack sat up with a glittering grin and gestured magnanimously to the women who flounced their way across the crowded room, settling one either side of them, leaning forward provocatively, giving the appreciative gents an appetizing sample of what wares might be hidden beneath their low cut bodices.
“Ah, now this is whys I comes to Tortuga,” Gibbs said appreciatively as the flaxen hair vixen on his left ran a slightly grimy hand up his equally grimy sleeve.
“Tis a sight for sore eyes, aye.” Jack smiled goldenly at the black hair minx to his right. He leaned over and tasted her wares, slipping a tongue in her mouth and a hand up her skirt, as she applied a skilled and nimble hand to his crotch.
“Nothing quite like a fine wench, wouldn’t you say Mister Gibbs?”
“Aye, Cap’n. A fine wench is a fine thing to be sure.”
Jack slid his free hand along the curvaceous side of the woman now poised delicately on his lap.
“Feels almost as good as it tastes. Nothing better to warm a man’s soul and give a rise to his… spirits.”
He was leaning over to sample those wares once more when he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Two very familiar women were heading their way, with frowns on their faces and determination in their eyes.
“Time to go!”
Jack unceremoniously tipped the girl from his lap onto the bench and rose, quickly donning his hat as he headed for the exit. Gibbs, his mind a bit muddled by the rum extracted himself from the grasp of the blonde and followed his captain without question, though a bit disappointed.
The slap caught Gibbs by surprise. Jack, who had ducked the first assault, caught the second full on, reeling slightly from the blow.
“YOU!!” A voice screeched in Jack’s ear and then, without waiting to hear more he was heading pell-mell for the safety of his ship, Gibbs hot on his heels, the two strumpets they’d stood up close behind.
Safely aboard the Pearl Jack looked back at the dock where the two irate females were still shouting obscenities at him and Gibbs. He rubbed his hand along the ship’s rail and said philosophically, “You know Mister Gibbs... a fine rum is good, a fine wench even better. But a man’s ship is much more better than both.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Gibbs said, ruefully rubbing his chin and lamenting silently the loss opportunities of the night.
They made their way to the helm, where Jack took the wheel in his hands and observed, “The feel of a ship’s wheel in your hand, the taste of the sea, the rise and fall of the decks, like a woman under-“ Jack stopped, giving Gibbs an awkward smile. “Sorry.” He paused to adjust his goods. “Lost meself there, for a moment.” His gaze shifted back to the view before him. “Ah yes! Why there’s nothing better to warm a man’s soul and give a rise to his spirits. ”
Gibbs nodded in agreement. “Safer, too.”