Scarlett & Giselle Series - 1: Three's Company
Author: mamazano
Title: Three’s Company
Rating: PG-13 (suggestive situations)
Characters: Jack / Giselle / Scarlett
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with him
Summary: Jack Sparrow helps call a truce between his two favorite ladies of the night.
Note: This silly piece evolved from a plot bunny suggested by my recent drabbles Lost Wages and Empty Bed. How DID Scarlett and Giselle meet, and more importantly becomes friends?
A special thanks goes out to
geekmama for her last minute beta work. I dedicate this bit o’fluff to her!
( Index to all Episodes )
Three’s Company
****
Their first meeting was acrimonious, at best.
“Who’s she?” she asked him, furious at having been bested by the redhead. Her resounding slap had put him right, though. She’d savored that moment all evening, replaying her indignation over and over as she plied her trade along the docks.
It was only later, when she’d finally retired to her small straw-filled cot in the back room of the Faithful Bride that she’d realized with disappointment that he hadn’t sought her out, as was his custom when he was in Tortuga. Regretting her fit of pique she rolled onto her side and stared at the moon rising over the sea beyond the dingy confines of her tiny room.
“Probably with her,” she seethed in disgust. “The men always prefer the redhead.”
****
The redhead rested her arms on the windowsill, leaning out to catch the faintest breeze blowing in from the bay, her bare arms and bosom gleaming like alabaster in the moonlight. Scanning the now quiet street below, she fretted to herself, angry at her irrational reaction at seeing him. What possessed her to act in such a way? Who was she to lay any claim to such a free spirit? Yet her heart ached when she thought of him. Unlike all the others with whom she spent her evenings, he alone bothered to give something in return. What he lacked in gold he made up for in finesse. A Midas touch he had, and how she ached to have him touch her again.
Returning to her narrow bed she wrapped her arms around herself. “He’s probably with that blonde,” she sighed. Men always seemed to favor the blondes.
****
The second time they met, they came to blows.
Scarlett was coming out of the local haberdashery, clutching her newly purchased ribbons and threads. A flurry of gold brushed roughly against her, knocking her notions from her hand into the mud filled street, then shouldered past her into the shop without so much as a by-your-leave.
Furiously, Scarlett followed the reprobate into the shop, demanding that she make good on the now-ruined ribbons that were floating away down the lane.
“You!” the other woman screeched. “A waste of fripperies it’d be. Like buyin’ pearls for swine.”
“How dare you!” Scarlett sputtered, leaning forward, waggling her finger. “You couldn’t get a pig to poke you!”
“You painted hussy, I’ll poke you one!”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh wouldn’t I?”
With that Giselle grabbed the redhead with both hands, wrenching handfuls of hair as Scarlett kicked her in the shins. Grabbing at the nearest display, Scarlett smacked her opponent soundly on the back with a parasol. Giselle countered with a box of talc, showering the two of them in a fine powdery mist.
The haberdasher ran out from behind the counter, wringing his hands and imploring, “Ladies, ladies, please!” They paid him no heed. Giselle wrestled Scarlett down onto the ground and straddled her, slapping her face while the redhead kicked and screamed.
“Ladies, would you please stow it?!” The loud command from above caused them to pause. Looking up through their disheveled hair and dusting of powder, they realized they must look for all the world like two wayward children caught misbehaving. He grinned crookedly, a golden gleam to match the one in his eyes.
“My two favorite ladies in all Tortuga! A sight for sore eyes to be sure.” Jack reached down and hoisted Giselle onto her feet, ducking her right hook as he held out a helpful hand to Scarlett. Dodging her left, he brushed off his coat and stepped back quickly, giving both women an appraising look and a wide berth.
“Why don’t the two of you come join meself in a celebratory drink, aye? I’ve treasure in me pockets enough for the both of you.” He flashed his most engaging smile, cocking his head, eyes twinkling.
Neither one of the women wanted to go with the other, but then neither did they want the other to go with Jack. So a temporary truce was called, and the three of them made their way out into the Tortuga streets. Jack wrapped one arm around each lady, joking and laughing with them as they picked their way through the mud and filth that made up the pirate haven.
“Now don’t tell me you ladies haven’t missed me!” Jack planted a wet kiss on each of their cheeks, wrinkling his nose from the fine coating of powder. “Ah! A bouquet as fresh as springtime, and both lovelier than a summer morn.” The girls twittered, each of them determined to be the one with whom Jack retired at the end of the night.
Jack found them an empty table in the Faithful Bride, signaling to the serving girl as he gallantly seated the two women on either side of him. “Now tell me, how could two such agreeable and, I must add, delectable ladies such as yourselves come to such a disagreeable disagreement?”
“She ruined my ribbons!”
“Did not!”
“Did too! And called me a pig.”
“You did?” Jack eyes widened.
“I did, she deserved it.”
“Did not!”
“Ladies, please!” Jack held up a hand in supplication. “Listen to me. Yes, I will find you new ribbons. No, she is not the least bit like a pig. If you won’t take me word on it, I’ll fetch Mr. Gibbs, a virtual expert on the subject of swine.” He took a long swallow of rum and added, “And, if the two of you can learn to get along, ol’ Jack has a real treat in store for you both.”
The women ooohed in unison, eagerly sipping their drinks, and wondering what marvel Jack would pull out of his hat. He sat back in satisfaction, draping an arm around each of their soft, round shoulders. The night was beginning to look promising indeed.
****
The hour was late, yet the town was just coming alive. Jack and the girls picked their way through the brawling, jostling crowd and out into the Tortugan night, where the sound of random gunfire and carousing accompanied them as they ambled drunkenly towards the waterfront. Both women were teetering along, leaning heavily against Jack, whose rolling gait was even more pronounced, causing the entire party of three to bob and sway like a small boat in a choppy sea. Their destination was Jack’s pride and joy, the Black Pearl, which Jack had promised to show them.
The two women had found, after their initial dislike and distrust had been dispelled by copious amounts of alcohol, that they actually had quite a lot in common. Well, besides their chosen profession and their mutual fondness for Jack. It turned out both had been born in Whitechapel, and had traveled to the Caribbean as young girls. Both of them had a weakness for fripperies, and a wicked right cross. And both of them were determined to be the one with whom Jack chose to spend the night.
****
Having thrown enough coin at each of them to pay for an entire night, Jack felt entitled to share it with both of them. The question was, would it be one at a time or a happy threesome? After witnessing the brawl earlier in the day, Jack was pretty much convinced he’d be having to chose one over the other, which was a scary notion at best. Rubbing his jaw thoughtfully he decided to broach the subject. Feel it out so to speak.
“Ladies, I have a proposition to put to you.” Jack gave them his most charming smile, handing each of them a cup of rum. He had saved the best for last, ending their tour of his ship in the Great Cabin. He poured himself a rum and held his cup up. “But first a toast, to the two most delightful and delectable women in all of Tortuga… no, not just Tortuga, the entire Caribbean!” His gold edged grin glimmered in the soft candle light. Scarlett was listing to starboard on the seat beneath the stern windows, Giselle, to port on the edge of the bunk.
“To us!” slurred Scarlett, her head lolling to one side.
“Hear, hear!” seconded Giselle, raising her glass and promptly passing out, her cup slipping noisily to the floor.
Jack frowned at the spilt rum, then leered slightly at the disheveled woman sprawled across his bunk. He gave a quick glance towards his other guest, only to find Scarlett asleep as well, chin resting on her most ample and appealing bosom. He looked back over at his bunk, from which a slightly nasal snoring was softly emanating. Sighing, his eyes darted back to the redheaded beauty, now slumped in a most unladylike manner against the windows.
Jack strolled over to the table and picked up the bottle of rum. Heaving another sigh he took a long swallow then turned and set about making the girls more comfortable. Dragging a footstool over he managed to get Scarlett settled across the window seat; Giselle seemed quite comfy where she lay.
Chuckling to himself, Jack took the rum and went out on deck, breathing deeply of the salty tang of the sea and raising the bottle in a silent salute to the night. For it wasn’t every evening a man was lucky enough to have two beautiful wenches in his cabin, and an even more beautiful one under his feet. With a caressing hand he rubbed the worn wood of the rail and smiled.
Not all treasure’s silver and gold. It also came in red, yellow and black.
****
Title: Three’s Company
Rating: PG-13 (suggestive situations)
Characters: Jack / Giselle / Scarlett
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with him
Summary: Jack Sparrow helps call a truce between his two favorite ladies of the night.
Note: This silly piece evolved from a plot bunny suggested by my recent drabbles Lost Wages and Empty Bed. How DID Scarlett and Giselle meet, and more importantly becomes friends?
A special thanks goes out to
geekmama for her last minute beta work. I dedicate this bit o’fluff to her!
( Index to all Episodes )
Three’s Company
****
Their first meeting was acrimonious, at best.
“Who’s she?” she asked him, furious at having been bested by the redhead. Her resounding slap had put him right, though. She’d savored that moment all evening, replaying her indignation over and over as she plied her trade along the docks.
It was only later, when she’d finally retired to her small straw-filled cot in the back room of the Faithful Bride that she’d realized with disappointment that he hadn’t sought her out, as was his custom when he was in Tortuga. Regretting her fit of pique she rolled onto her side and stared at the moon rising over the sea beyond the dingy confines of her tiny room.
“Probably with her,” she seethed in disgust. “The men always prefer the redhead.”
****
The redhead rested her arms on the windowsill, leaning out to catch the faintest breeze blowing in from the bay, her bare arms and bosom gleaming like alabaster in the moonlight. Scanning the now quiet street below, she fretted to herself, angry at her irrational reaction at seeing him. What possessed her to act in such a way? Who was she to lay any claim to such a free spirit? Yet her heart ached when she thought of him. Unlike all the others with whom she spent her evenings, he alone bothered to give something in return. What he lacked in gold he made up for in finesse. A Midas touch he had, and how she ached to have him touch her again.
Returning to her narrow bed she wrapped her arms around herself. “He’s probably with that blonde,” she sighed. Men always seemed to favor the blondes.
****
The second time they met, they came to blows.
Scarlett was coming out of the local haberdashery, clutching her newly purchased ribbons and threads. A flurry of gold brushed roughly against her, knocking her notions from her hand into the mud filled street, then shouldered past her into the shop without so much as a by-your-leave.
Furiously, Scarlett followed the reprobate into the shop, demanding that she make good on the now-ruined ribbons that were floating away down the lane.
“You!” the other woman screeched. “A waste of fripperies it’d be. Like buyin’ pearls for swine.”
“How dare you!” Scarlett sputtered, leaning forward, waggling her finger. “You couldn’t get a pig to poke you!”
“You painted hussy, I’ll poke you one!”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh wouldn’t I?”
With that Giselle grabbed the redhead with both hands, wrenching handfuls of hair as Scarlett kicked her in the shins. Grabbing at the nearest display, Scarlett smacked her opponent soundly on the back with a parasol. Giselle countered with a box of talc, showering the two of them in a fine powdery mist.
The haberdasher ran out from behind the counter, wringing his hands and imploring, “Ladies, ladies, please!” They paid him no heed. Giselle wrestled Scarlett down onto the ground and straddled her, slapping her face while the redhead kicked and screamed.
“Ladies, would you please stow it?!” The loud command from above caused them to pause. Looking up through their disheveled hair and dusting of powder, they realized they must look for all the world like two wayward children caught misbehaving. He grinned crookedly, a golden gleam to match the one in his eyes.
“My two favorite ladies in all Tortuga! A sight for sore eyes to be sure.” Jack reached down and hoisted Giselle onto her feet, ducking her right hook as he held out a helpful hand to Scarlett. Dodging her left, he brushed off his coat and stepped back quickly, giving both women an appraising look and a wide berth.
“Why don’t the two of you come join meself in a celebratory drink, aye? I’ve treasure in me pockets enough for the both of you.” He flashed his most engaging smile, cocking his head, eyes twinkling.
Neither one of the women wanted to go with the other, but then neither did they want the other to go with Jack. So a temporary truce was called, and the three of them made their way out into the Tortuga streets. Jack wrapped one arm around each lady, joking and laughing with them as they picked their way through the mud and filth that made up the pirate haven.
“Now don’t tell me you ladies haven’t missed me!” Jack planted a wet kiss on each of their cheeks, wrinkling his nose from the fine coating of powder. “Ah! A bouquet as fresh as springtime, and both lovelier than a summer morn.” The girls twittered, each of them determined to be the one with whom Jack retired at the end of the night.
Jack found them an empty table in the Faithful Bride, signaling to the serving girl as he gallantly seated the two women on either side of him. “Now tell me, how could two such agreeable and, I must add, delectable ladies such as yourselves come to such a disagreeable disagreement?”
“She ruined my ribbons!”
“Did not!”
“Did too! And called me a pig.”
“You did?” Jack eyes widened.
“I did, she deserved it.”
“Did not!”
“Ladies, please!” Jack held up a hand in supplication. “Listen to me. Yes, I will find you new ribbons. No, she is not the least bit like a pig. If you won’t take me word on it, I’ll fetch Mr. Gibbs, a virtual expert on the subject of swine.” He took a long swallow of rum and added, “And, if the two of you can learn to get along, ol’ Jack has a real treat in store for you both.”
The women ooohed in unison, eagerly sipping their drinks, and wondering what marvel Jack would pull out of his hat. He sat back in satisfaction, draping an arm around each of their soft, round shoulders. The night was beginning to look promising indeed.
****
The hour was late, yet the town was just coming alive. Jack and the girls picked their way through the brawling, jostling crowd and out into the Tortugan night, where the sound of random gunfire and carousing accompanied them as they ambled drunkenly towards the waterfront. Both women were teetering along, leaning heavily against Jack, whose rolling gait was even more pronounced, causing the entire party of three to bob and sway like a small boat in a choppy sea. Their destination was Jack’s pride and joy, the Black Pearl, which Jack had promised to show them.
The two women had found, after their initial dislike and distrust had been dispelled by copious amounts of alcohol, that they actually had quite a lot in common. Well, besides their chosen profession and their mutual fondness for Jack. It turned out both had been born in Whitechapel, and had traveled to the Caribbean as young girls. Both of them had a weakness for fripperies, and a wicked right cross. And both of them were determined to be the one with whom Jack chose to spend the night.
****
Having thrown enough coin at each of them to pay for an entire night, Jack felt entitled to share it with both of them. The question was, would it be one at a time or a happy threesome? After witnessing the brawl earlier in the day, Jack was pretty much convinced he’d be having to chose one over the other, which was a scary notion at best. Rubbing his jaw thoughtfully he decided to broach the subject. Feel it out so to speak.
“Ladies, I have a proposition to put to you.” Jack gave them his most charming smile, handing each of them a cup of rum. He had saved the best for last, ending their tour of his ship in the Great Cabin. He poured himself a rum and held his cup up. “But first a toast, to the two most delightful and delectable women in all of Tortuga… no, not just Tortuga, the entire Caribbean!” His gold edged grin glimmered in the soft candle light. Scarlett was listing to starboard on the seat beneath the stern windows, Giselle, to port on the edge of the bunk.
“To us!” slurred Scarlett, her head lolling to one side.
“Hear, hear!” seconded Giselle, raising her glass and promptly passing out, her cup slipping noisily to the floor.
Jack frowned at the spilt rum, then leered slightly at the disheveled woman sprawled across his bunk. He gave a quick glance towards his other guest, only to find Scarlett asleep as well, chin resting on her most ample and appealing bosom. He looked back over at his bunk, from which a slightly nasal snoring was softly emanating. Sighing, his eyes darted back to the redheaded beauty, now slumped in a most unladylike manner against the windows.
Jack strolled over to the table and picked up the bottle of rum. Heaving another sigh he took a long swallow then turned and set about making the girls more comfortable. Dragging a footstool over he managed to get Scarlett settled across the window seat; Giselle seemed quite comfy where she lay.
Chuckling to himself, Jack took the rum and went out on deck, breathing deeply of the salty tang of the sea and raising the bottle in a silent salute to the night. For it wasn’t every evening a man was lucky enough to have two beautiful wenches in his cabin, and an even more beautiful one under his feet. With a caressing hand he rubbed the worn wood of the rail and smiled.
Not all treasure’s silver and gold. It also came in red, yellow and black.
****