Scarlett & Giselle Series - 4: 'Tis Much More Better to Give...
Author: mamazano
Title: ‘Tis Much More Better to Give…
Rating: R (suggestive situations)
Characters: Jack / Giselle / Scarlett
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with him
Summary: Giselle asks a favor of Jack. He agrees to help…on one condition.
Note: Another installment in the ongoing saga of Scarlett and Giselle. Previous episodes can be found here.
( Index to all Episodes )
A special thanks goes out once again to my beta queen, compassrose7577. A never failing cornucopia of knowledge, be it nautical or needlework.
‘Tis Much More Better to Give…
****
Giselle hummed softly to herself as she tied the festive ribbon around the brightly colored package. A brand new sewing kit was inside, complete with a colorful selection of threads, as well as an assortment of scissors, needles, and other odd-shaped items with even odder names. Mr. Beasley, who owned the haberdashery shop directly below the room she shared with Scarlett, insisted that all the items in question were essential and would surely delight the lucky lady receiving such a splendid and thoughtful gift.
“Splendid as in expensive,” Giselle had commented, but bought the kit in spite of her reservations, with coins she had been saving for the occasion. Scarlett’s birthday was the following week and even though she’d made Giselle swear not to tell a soul, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be pleased with a gift.
“Not to mention the fact,” Giselle thought ruefully, “I sorta owe her a new one anyways. Can’t help it if she left hers sitting on the windowsill. Was only trying to get the bloomin’ thing open, to let in a breeze. How was I supposed to know it’d fall out?”
****
“Now look what you’ve done!” Scarlett had screeched, hurrying down the outside stairs to the street below.
Giselle had followed at a much slower pace, not eager to face her roommate’s wrath. She’d found Scarlett standing in the street holding up the remains of her sewing kit, mud running down both her arms.
“It took me a month to save up for these and now look! Ruined!”
Giselle had avoided her eyes, bending down to rescue a piece of lace from the muck. She bit her lip as she tried to think of something to say that would smooth the situation.
“I’ll buy you a new one!” she’d finally settled on, smiling brightly as she held out the brown-stained bit of lace. “A better one!”
Scarlett just grabbed the lace with an irritated heave of her bosom. “You’d never be able to save enough. You barely make the rent as it is.”
Giselle protested but secretly had to agree. It seemed there was always something she needed whenever she managed to scrape two coins together.
“I’ll just work harder,” she’d thought resolutely, and trudged her way back up the stairs behind the ramrod straight back of her obviously displeased roommate.
So, when Giselle had heard the following day that the Black Pearl had made port, she decided to seek out Jack and see if he could drum her up a little business.
Little did she know the Pandora’s Box she was opening…
****
“Giselle!” Jack was exuberant as ever in his greeting, flashing a gold-rimmed grin before sweeping her along with him towards the nearest tavern. “You’ve come all the way to the docks, just to welcome me back! You’re as thoughtful as you are lovely.”
Giselle smiled at him, tempted to leave him with that thought. Instead, she blurted out her reason for finding him. “Jack, I need you…”
“That’s why I’m here, darling,” he interrupted, smiling as he curled an arm around her waist. “Just let me get me men settled and we can get to that bit of needin’ you’re needin’.”
Giselle pulled away and put her hands on her hips. “Not that needin’, you ninny. I need yer help.”
Jack’s face fell. “Oh.” But then he immediately brightened. “Help, you say? Well, luv, you’ve come to the right man.” Then, as if finally realizing what she’d said, he paused, raising a finger to his open mouth. “What sort of help you needin’?” he asked cautiously, cocking his head slightly and squinting at her. “Are you in trouble?” He suddenly went serious as another thought occurred to him. “Am I in trouble? Are you…?” he pantomimed with his hands a bulging belly.
Giselle laughed and put her arm through his as they resumed walking up the street. “No, Jack, not that sort of trouble. It’s just that, well I need to buy someone something and I’m skint broke as always and I was wondering…”
“Ah!” Jack grinned with a sigh of relief. “So it is that sort of needin’, you’re needin’. And in that needin’, my needin’ could easily be needed, so your needin’ can be met. Savvy?”
Giselle found herself nodding, not sure exactly what she’d just agreed to. But it was a start, at least.
The tavern was its usual tangle of jostling bodies, and finding a table proved to be a more difficult task than expected. Jack finally located one crammed against the back wall, between a boisterous group playing cards and another one wagering bets on everything from throwing knives to throwing up; the perfect location to have a private business conversation.
Setting the two tankards down on the grimy surface of the table, Jack plopped down on the bench and patted his knee. “Now, we could just dispense with the preliminaries and get straight to the matter at hand,” he paused, demonstrating by running one of his hands along the slim lines of Giselle’s figure. “But I’ve got me another thirst to quench first.” He raised his cup and drank deeply, setting it back down with an “Ahh!” and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
Giselle was snuggled on his lap, being somewhat necessary, since there was little room for her to sit elsewhere. Seeing as how Jack’s lap was one of her favorites, there was no quarrel there; she could think of much worse places to sit. Sipping her own drink she tried to explain what she needed.
“Jack, I need you to help me get a sewing kit.”
Jack paused, tankard halfway to his lips. “Come again?”
“A sewing kit. You know, needles, threads.”
Jack set his drink back, with a disappointed look. “That’s what you need me help with: bits of ribbon and thread? And here I was thinking you were wanting me help with something else.” He set her on her feet and went back to his drink. “Sorry, luv. Not my line of work…unless you're asking me to pilfer one.” He waved his hand dismissively towards her.
Giselle frowned. This wasn’t going right at all.
Loud shouts came from the table on her left, the card game turning into a brawl, with accusations of cheating followed by a mad tumble of men across the floor. Twisting to avoid the melee, she ended up back in Jack’s lap. Time for negotiations.
At that moment, a familiar figure came bobbing through the crowd, ricocheting his way across the room, with a bottle of rum in each hand and a wide grin on his face.
“Mister Gibbs! I see you found a buyer for our goods, aye?”
Gibbs sank down on the bench and beamed. “Aye, Cap’n. Feller bought the lot. Paid top price without question. Knew we’d find a market for all them…”
Jack hastily interrupted his quartermaster. “Good job! Well, this calls for a celebration.”
Gibbs nodded at Giselle perched on Jack’s knee and waggled his eyebrows. “Seems t’ me you’ve already started.”
Jack gave Giselle a pat on the rear. “A damsel in distress what needed rescuing.”
Gibbs raised his eyebrows even higher. “From what, Cap’n?”
Jack leaned forward and said in a conspirical whisper, “Lack of thread.” He sat back with a satisfied smirk, eyes twinkling.
Gibbs didn’t move, only sat there, with his mouth open as he tried to process the information.
Giselle knew she was being poked fun at, but bristled anyways. “Fine pair of gents you are! Girl tries to get some help and what does she get? Laughed at.” She stood up indignantly, her cheeks hot, resisting the urge to slap the smirk off of Jack’s face.
Gibbs blinked and leaned closer to his captain. “Are they all like this when they run out of thread?”
Jack glanced over at her, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “In my wide and varied experiences with the finer sex, I have found there to be only one other calamity that strikes as much terror into their ample, and I must add agreeable, breasts.”
Gibbs eyes widened in anticipation. “And what might that be, Cap’n?”
“Lack of frocks.”
“Of which you promised me two new ones,” Giselle pointed out, arms crossed and toe tapping.
Jack buried his nose in his tankard, studiously avoiding her eyes.
“I ain’t askin’ for nothin’ I ain’t willin’ t’ work for,” she added. “I was hopin’ maybe you might be able to find me a bit of business, you know, maybe refer a few gents my way. If yer not wantin’ t’ help, fine. I’ll go ask that lot over there.” She turned and pointed at the table next to them, where a group of unsavory men were engaged in a highly vocal match of arm wrestling.
Jack raised an eyebrow and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down on his lap. “Why didn’t you just say that, darling? Of course ol’ Jack’ll find you a few willin’ gents. I’ll send you me whole bloody crew if you want. Be able to buy you loads of thread when you’re through.”
He gave a wicked grin and pulled out a handful of coins. “Starting with this gent over here. On me.” He slapped down the coins on the table and tilted his head towards Gibbs, who about choked on his mouthful of rum.
“Why that’s mighty generous of you, Cap’n, but you ought t’ take the first go. I’ll just save yer place here.”
“No, no, Mister Gibbs. You first. I insist.”
Giselle looked back and forth between the two of them, not sure if they were still poking fun or serious.
Jack finally sighed and gave his quartermaster a long -suffering look. “If you insist, Mister Gibbs. But I expect t’ find you here when I return, not off gallivanting with one of those wide-bowed, broad-sterned wenches you seem to fancy. Giselle here needs our help and it t’would be a shame to let her down. Savvy?”
“Aye, Cap’n.” Gibbs gave Jack an anxious look before returning to his examination of the inside of his mug.
****
“Man’s positively terrified of you,” Jack said later, sweat glistening on his forehead and bare chest. “Been wantin’ to approach you for ages. Can’t get up the nerve, though I’m supposin’ he can get up other things.”
Giselle pulled her gown on and looked over at him sprawled naked on the narrow bed, one leg dangling over the edge, an arm beneath his head, looking quite comfortable.
And making no move to leave.
“No reason for him t’ be scared of me,” Giselle replied, her voice muffled by the pins in her mouth. She finished fixing her hair and stood to go. “You planning on paying for another go or what?”
Jack shifted slightly in the bed and gave her a crooked grin. “As tempting a proposition that might be, I have a much more better one for you.”
Giselle gave him a suspicious look. “Much more better?”
“Aye. I’ve always heard ‘tis much more better to give…”
Giselle snorted. “I thought yer motto was, ‘Take what you can, give nothin’ back’!”
Jack nodded. “Aye, the Pirate’s code, which also includes a clause regardin’ takin’ care of your less fortunate brethren, compensating them for what they’re missing - arm, leg, eye.”
Giselle was unclear what Jack was trying to say; the night was still young and she didn’t have time to listen to one of his elaborate explanations.
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Jack sat up and gave her a serious look. “I happen to have a member of me crew that is in need of some serious compensating. Seems his more pertinent parts go missing, at times.”
Giselle headed for the door. “Well, you best be getting dressed and go tend to him then. I wish I could dally, but I have t’ earn a living.”
“I’ll pay you for the whole night,” he called, his words stopping her in her tracks. “Ought t’ be enough for a bloody cartload of thread.”
Giselle smiled. A whole night! No wonder he wasn’t getting dressed. Girl could do much worse than a spending the whole night with…
“Mister Gibbs will surely appreciate it.”
Giselle thoughts were interrupted with a jerk. “Mister Gibbs?” she echoed.
Jack was nodded vigorously, his beads and trinkets clattering. “Man has this ungodly, and totally unhealthy habit, of choosing the worse sort of woman to keep company with. Bleh!” Jack grimaced and stuck out his tongue. “Can’t see how Gibbs can abide touching one of ‘em. Though, I supposed you don’t have t’ technically touch one,” he added in a thoughtful voice, “Especially if they’re doing the touching. Yet, nevertheless, I feel it is my duty, as captain and purveyor of fortune, to find him a more alluring and appealing female to help him overcome this sad affliction of his. Man is terrified to even approach a wench as lovely as you; gets all quivery when I mention it.”
Giselle was standing by the door, mouth open, watching Jack pace around the room, still naked, hands expressively embellishing his words. She had no qualms about entertaining Gibbs, but was stunned that Jack was willing to pay for an entire evening. T’wasn’t like Jack at all.
“What do you get out of this?” she asked him suspiciously. She knew Jack better than this; he wasn’t usually this magnanimous. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been that way.
He stopped in front of her and brushed a wisp of hair off her cheek, lightly running his finger along her jaw. “The satisfaction of seeing a good mate of mine enjoy his birthday.” He grinned slyly. “Same thing you’re getting out of that sewing thingie you are so adamant on getting Scarlett.”
Giselle’s mouth gaped. “Why I never! How did you…?”
Jack gave her a big grin and spread his arms wide. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow! Savvy?” He dropped his arms to his side. “And, Scarlett told me what happened to her old one. Put two and two together and Bob’s your uncle, Fannie’s your aunt, there you are! Never saw you as the type to be spending your time bent over a needle.”
Giselle started to protest.
“Don’t worry,” he added hastily, “I won’t ruin your surprise.” He retrieved his clothes and donned them. Bending down to pull on his boots he paused and asked, “Will you do it?”
Giselle sighed. She’d rather have entertained Jack, but she did need the money. And he did seem sincere. “Sure, Jack. Why not? Mister Gibbs is about the only member of your crew I haven’t entertained. Should be interesting.”
Jack paused, straightening slowly. “You’ve been with all of them?”
“Well, not at the same time,” she snapped, impatiently. “Jack, it’s what I do for a living, remember?”
Jack sat back down on the side of the bed, obviously troubled. “Mister Cotton?” he asked looking up, hesitantly.
Giselle smiled. A really sweet gent, she’d taken him in one night when he was down on his luck…. before he’d joined Jack’s crew. “Yes; his parrot mutters. Did you know that? And watches, too. Rather unnerving.”
Jack’s face twitched, either from trying not to laugh or trying to envision Giselle with the old geezer. “And Marty?” he inquired, almost fearfully
“Just because a man is short, doesn’t mean he’s not able.” And that shortness proved an interesting twist to the evening. She had even learned a few new tricks that night.
Jack shook his head in dismay, apparently having never thought of his crew enjoying the same privileges as he when it came to the wenches.
Swallowing, he stood. “Well then, no worries, eh?” he announced, brightly. “You and Gibbs should get along splendidly.”
****
It took some prodding on Jack’s part, and wheedling on Giselle’s, but eventually, she found herself alone in the room with Mister Gibbs.
“Remember, the night is young. Make sure to pace yourself.” Jack’s parting words had only served to make the poor man more nervous.
Once upstairs, Gibbs stood just inside the doorway, with a look of terror on his face. Giselle had made sure to bring a bottle of rum; it appeared they were going to need it.
Gibbs’ body went rigid as she approached and ran a practiced hand up his arm. “What would you like to do?”
He swallowed. “Perhaps we oughtta have a drink,” he said rather hoarsely. “And get t’ know one another a bit first.”
Giselle shrugged. She was used to all sorts - some wanted to talk, some wanted to sing (those were the most difficult). Most just wanted to get what they paid for and get back to drinking. Gibbs, well… it wasn’t definite, but he looked like he wanted to run the other way.
She poured them each a cup of rum and handed him one. He slumped down in the only chair and took several quick gulps, leaving Giselle to perch herself on the edge of the bed. That move seemed to only make her companion even more nervous.
“So, whatcha want t’ talk about?” She figured to try to get him to relax…somehow. “I know, tell me what’s it like sailin’ with Jack.”
Gibbs took another swallow, rolling his eyes in relief. “Jack’s a fair captain. Never asks the men to do nothin’ he’d not do himself. Treats ‘em right, feeds ‘em well, generous with the rum. A good man.”
Giselle sighed. That life seemed so exciting, so adventurous. She would love to be able to sail away from the squalor, and despair and filth of Tortuga. Yet, all those seafarin’ gents seemed to love comin’ back here.
“So why do all the gents love Tortuga so?”
Gibbs raised his bushy brows and opened him mouth to respond then clamped it shut. “For the scenery, mostly,” he mumbled, looking away sheepishly.
Giselle laughed. “That’s a good one! Been called many things before, but never been called that! Scenery. Gonna have to remember that one.” She was still chuckling when she realized that Gibbs was looking quite mortified.
She rose and walked behind him and wrapped her arms around him. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she ran a hand down the front of his shirt, playing lightly with the curls on his chest. He stiffened slightly and she sighed. Jack was right. Poor Gibbs needed more than compensation. “Jack told me I was t’ show you a good time. Don’t you want to play?”
“I’d rather play cards.”
Giselle blinked. Straightening, she stepped around and peered into the man’s frozen features. “Cards?”
Gibbs swallowed another large gulp “No offense, miss,” he blurted out. “You’re lovely; prettier than any other wench I’ve seen. That’s the trouble I’m a-having: you look just like my sister’s Nina.”
“Nina?”
“Aye, Nina. Uncle Josh she calls me.”
“Uncle Josh.”
“Aye.”
“I see. We do have a bit of a problem, don’t we?”
“Aye.”
****
“Wonder how Mister Gibbs is makin’ out,” Jack mused aloud, glancing up at the ceiling with a smirk.
“Past that point by now,” Marty grunted, dealing the cards.
“Past that point and passed out, probably. Told him to pace himself.” Jack chuckled and took a peek at his hand.
Marty just grunted again.
****
“Your deal.” Giselle yawned. “I’m about done in.”
Gibbs picked up the rum bottle and tipped it upside down. A single drop plopped onto the table. “Rum’s gone too.” He looked at the door. “Reckon it’s been long enough?”
Giselle smiled sleepily at him. “Yeah, Jack must have figured we’ve done all we could do, by now.”
Gibbs gave her a grateful smile. “Best keep this our little secret.” He yawned as well and rose to leave. “Appreciate you not havin’ no hard feelings.”
Giselle shrugged and hooked her arm into his. “I enjoyed myself. Really. But remember, if you ever change yer mind, I owe you.”
They made their way through the tavern, much quieter by that hour of the night, weaving through the assorted drunks draped over tables and passed out on the floor. They found Jack at the back of the room, asleep on the bench.
Gibbs winked at Giselle. “Maybe you oughtta take ‘em back to the room,” he suggested, quietly “Man paid fer it, might as well get some use out of the bed.”
She bent down and whispered in Jack’s ear, one eye opening.
“Done already?” he mumbled sleepily. “Told ‘em to pace himself.”
Giselle smiled and winked broadly at Gibbs.” Oh, he did. Best time I’ve had in ages.”
****
True to his word, Jack did not spoil her surprise. Scarlett was thrilled when she opened her present and saw the beautiful new sewing kit. In a very unusual display of emotion, tears sprang to her eyes and she ran over and hugged Giselle.
“This is wonderful! Look at all these! How did you ever afford this?”
Giselle smiled and thought back to ‘the night of cards’, as she fondly referred to it. “Had some help from some old friends,” she said simply.
Scarlett squealed with delight like a young girl as she removed each item. “Oh look! There are scissors, and thread winders,” Scarlett exclaimed, her nose deep in the basket. “And bobbins and bodkins!”
Giselle snorted silently to herself. Bobbins and bodkins - sounded like a team of mules.
“This is the nicest gift I’ve ever received!” Scarlett had tears in her eyes as she sat back, her bits and bobs surrounding her. “I don’t know how to thank you!”
Giselle shrugged. “Least I could do, seeing I ruined the last one. Just wanted to see you have something nice for yer birthday.”
She laid back on the bed, listening to Scarlett’s joy at the gift she’d received and smiled. Jack was right, after all. It was much more better to give…
****
Title: ‘Tis Much More Better to Give…
Rating: R (suggestive situations)
Characters: Jack / Giselle / Scarlett
Disclaimer: Disney owns them, I just play with him
Summary: Giselle asks a favor of Jack. He agrees to help…on one condition.
Note: Another installment in the ongoing saga of Scarlett and Giselle. Previous episodes can be found here.
( Index to all Episodes )
A special thanks goes out once again to my beta queen, compassrose7577. A never failing cornucopia of knowledge, be it nautical or needlework.
‘Tis Much More Better to Give…
****
Giselle hummed softly to herself as she tied the festive ribbon around the brightly colored package. A brand new sewing kit was inside, complete with a colorful selection of threads, as well as an assortment of scissors, needles, and other odd-shaped items with even odder names. Mr. Beasley, who owned the haberdashery shop directly below the room she shared with Scarlett, insisted that all the items in question were essential and would surely delight the lucky lady receiving such a splendid and thoughtful gift.
“Splendid as in expensive,” Giselle had commented, but bought the kit in spite of her reservations, with coins she had been saving for the occasion. Scarlett’s birthday was the following week and even though she’d made Giselle swear not to tell a soul, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be pleased with a gift.
“Not to mention the fact,” Giselle thought ruefully, “I sorta owe her a new one anyways. Can’t help it if she left hers sitting on the windowsill. Was only trying to get the bloomin’ thing open, to let in a breeze. How was I supposed to know it’d fall out?”
****
“Now look what you’ve done!” Scarlett had screeched, hurrying down the outside stairs to the street below.
Giselle had followed at a much slower pace, not eager to face her roommate’s wrath. She’d found Scarlett standing in the street holding up the remains of her sewing kit, mud running down both her arms.
“It took me a month to save up for these and now look! Ruined!”
Giselle had avoided her eyes, bending down to rescue a piece of lace from the muck. She bit her lip as she tried to think of something to say that would smooth the situation.
“I’ll buy you a new one!” she’d finally settled on, smiling brightly as she held out the brown-stained bit of lace. “A better one!”
Scarlett just grabbed the lace with an irritated heave of her bosom. “You’d never be able to save enough. You barely make the rent as it is.”
Giselle protested but secretly had to agree. It seemed there was always something she needed whenever she managed to scrape two coins together.
“I’ll just work harder,” she’d thought resolutely, and trudged her way back up the stairs behind the ramrod straight back of her obviously displeased roommate.
So, when Giselle had heard the following day that the Black Pearl had made port, she decided to seek out Jack and see if he could drum her up a little business.
Little did she know the Pandora’s Box she was opening…
****
“Giselle!” Jack was exuberant as ever in his greeting, flashing a gold-rimmed grin before sweeping her along with him towards the nearest tavern. “You’ve come all the way to the docks, just to welcome me back! You’re as thoughtful as you are lovely.”
Giselle smiled at him, tempted to leave him with that thought. Instead, she blurted out her reason for finding him. “Jack, I need you…”
“That’s why I’m here, darling,” he interrupted, smiling as he curled an arm around her waist. “Just let me get me men settled and we can get to that bit of needin’ you’re needin’.”
Giselle pulled away and put her hands on her hips. “Not that needin’, you ninny. I need yer help.”
Jack’s face fell. “Oh.” But then he immediately brightened. “Help, you say? Well, luv, you’ve come to the right man.” Then, as if finally realizing what she’d said, he paused, raising a finger to his open mouth. “What sort of help you needin’?” he asked cautiously, cocking his head slightly and squinting at her. “Are you in trouble?” He suddenly went serious as another thought occurred to him. “Am I in trouble? Are you…?” he pantomimed with his hands a bulging belly.
Giselle laughed and put her arm through his as they resumed walking up the street. “No, Jack, not that sort of trouble. It’s just that, well I need to buy someone something and I’m skint broke as always and I was wondering…”
“Ah!” Jack grinned with a sigh of relief. “So it is that sort of needin’, you’re needin’. And in that needin’, my needin’ could easily be needed, so your needin’ can be met. Savvy?”
Giselle found herself nodding, not sure exactly what she’d just agreed to. But it was a start, at least.
The tavern was its usual tangle of jostling bodies, and finding a table proved to be a more difficult task than expected. Jack finally located one crammed against the back wall, between a boisterous group playing cards and another one wagering bets on everything from throwing knives to throwing up; the perfect location to have a private business conversation.
Setting the two tankards down on the grimy surface of the table, Jack plopped down on the bench and patted his knee. “Now, we could just dispense with the preliminaries and get straight to the matter at hand,” he paused, demonstrating by running one of his hands along the slim lines of Giselle’s figure. “But I’ve got me another thirst to quench first.” He raised his cup and drank deeply, setting it back down with an “Ahh!” and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
Giselle was snuggled on his lap, being somewhat necessary, since there was little room for her to sit elsewhere. Seeing as how Jack’s lap was one of her favorites, there was no quarrel there; she could think of much worse places to sit. Sipping her own drink she tried to explain what she needed.
“Jack, I need you to help me get a sewing kit.”
Jack paused, tankard halfway to his lips. “Come again?”
“A sewing kit. You know, needles, threads.”
Jack set his drink back, with a disappointed look. “That’s what you need me help with: bits of ribbon and thread? And here I was thinking you were wanting me help with something else.” He set her on her feet and went back to his drink. “Sorry, luv. Not my line of work…unless you're asking me to pilfer one.” He waved his hand dismissively towards her.
Giselle frowned. This wasn’t going right at all.
Loud shouts came from the table on her left, the card game turning into a brawl, with accusations of cheating followed by a mad tumble of men across the floor. Twisting to avoid the melee, she ended up back in Jack’s lap. Time for negotiations.
At that moment, a familiar figure came bobbing through the crowd, ricocheting his way across the room, with a bottle of rum in each hand and a wide grin on his face.
“Mister Gibbs! I see you found a buyer for our goods, aye?”
Gibbs sank down on the bench and beamed. “Aye, Cap’n. Feller bought the lot. Paid top price without question. Knew we’d find a market for all them…”
Jack hastily interrupted his quartermaster. “Good job! Well, this calls for a celebration.”
Gibbs nodded at Giselle perched on Jack’s knee and waggled his eyebrows. “Seems t’ me you’ve already started.”
Jack gave Giselle a pat on the rear. “A damsel in distress what needed rescuing.”
Gibbs raised his eyebrows even higher. “From what, Cap’n?”
Jack leaned forward and said in a conspirical whisper, “Lack of thread.” He sat back with a satisfied smirk, eyes twinkling.
Gibbs didn’t move, only sat there, with his mouth open as he tried to process the information.
Giselle knew she was being poked fun at, but bristled anyways. “Fine pair of gents you are! Girl tries to get some help and what does she get? Laughed at.” She stood up indignantly, her cheeks hot, resisting the urge to slap the smirk off of Jack’s face.
Gibbs blinked and leaned closer to his captain. “Are they all like this when they run out of thread?”
Jack glanced over at her, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “In my wide and varied experiences with the finer sex, I have found there to be only one other calamity that strikes as much terror into their ample, and I must add agreeable, breasts.”
Gibbs eyes widened in anticipation. “And what might that be, Cap’n?”
“Lack of frocks.”
“Of which you promised me two new ones,” Giselle pointed out, arms crossed and toe tapping.
Jack buried his nose in his tankard, studiously avoiding her eyes.
“I ain’t askin’ for nothin’ I ain’t willin’ t’ work for,” she added. “I was hopin’ maybe you might be able to find me a bit of business, you know, maybe refer a few gents my way. If yer not wantin’ t’ help, fine. I’ll go ask that lot over there.” She turned and pointed at the table next to them, where a group of unsavory men were engaged in a highly vocal match of arm wrestling.
Jack raised an eyebrow and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down on his lap. “Why didn’t you just say that, darling? Of course ol’ Jack’ll find you a few willin’ gents. I’ll send you me whole bloody crew if you want. Be able to buy you loads of thread when you’re through.”
He gave a wicked grin and pulled out a handful of coins. “Starting with this gent over here. On me.” He slapped down the coins on the table and tilted his head towards Gibbs, who about choked on his mouthful of rum.
“Why that’s mighty generous of you, Cap’n, but you ought t’ take the first go. I’ll just save yer place here.”
“No, no, Mister Gibbs. You first. I insist.”
Giselle looked back and forth between the two of them, not sure if they were still poking fun or serious.
Jack finally sighed and gave his quartermaster a long -suffering look. “If you insist, Mister Gibbs. But I expect t’ find you here when I return, not off gallivanting with one of those wide-bowed, broad-sterned wenches you seem to fancy. Giselle here needs our help and it t’would be a shame to let her down. Savvy?”
“Aye, Cap’n.” Gibbs gave Jack an anxious look before returning to his examination of the inside of his mug.
****
“Man’s positively terrified of you,” Jack said later, sweat glistening on his forehead and bare chest. “Been wantin’ to approach you for ages. Can’t get up the nerve, though I’m supposin’ he can get up other things.”
Giselle pulled her gown on and looked over at him sprawled naked on the narrow bed, one leg dangling over the edge, an arm beneath his head, looking quite comfortable.
And making no move to leave.
“No reason for him t’ be scared of me,” Giselle replied, her voice muffled by the pins in her mouth. She finished fixing her hair and stood to go. “You planning on paying for another go or what?”
Jack shifted slightly in the bed and gave her a crooked grin. “As tempting a proposition that might be, I have a much more better one for you.”
Giselle gave him a suspicious look. “Much more better?”
“Aye. I’ve always heard ‘tis much more better to give…”
Giselle snorted. “I thought yer motto was, ‘Take what you can, give nothin’ back’!”
Jack nodded. “Aye, the Pirate’s code, which also includes a clause regardin’ takin’ care of your less fortunate brethren, compensating them for what they’re missing - arm, leg, eye.”
Giselle was unclear what Jack was trying to say; the night was still young and she didn’t have time to listen to one of his elaborate explanations.
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Jack sat up and gave her a serious look. “I happen to have a member of me crew that is in need of some serious compensating. Seems his more pertinent parts go missing, at times.”
Giselle headed for the door. “Well, you best be getting dressed and go tend to him then. I wish I could dally, but I have t’ earn a living.”
“I’ll pay you for the whole night,” he called, his words stopping her in her tracks. “Ought t’ be enough for a bloody cartload of thread.”
Giselle smiled. A whole night! No wonder he wasn’t getting dressed. Girl could do much worse than a spending the whole night with…
“Mister Gibbs will surely appreciate it.”
Giselle thoughts were interrupted with a jerk. “Mister Gibbs?” she echoed.
Jack was nodded vigorously, his beads and trinkets clattering. “Man has this ungodly, and totally unhealthy habit, of choosing the worse sort of woman to keep company with. Bleh!” Jack grimaced and stuck out his tongue. “Can’t see how Gibbs can abide touching one of ‘em. Though, I supposed you don’t have t’ technically touch one,” he added in a thoughtful voice, “Especially if they’re doing the touching. Yet, nevertheless, I feel it is my duty, as captain and purveyor of fortune, to find him a more alluring and appealing female to help him overcome this sad affliction of his. Man is terrified to even approach a wench as lovely as you; gets all quivery when I mention it.”
Giselle was standing by the door, mouth open, watching Jack pace around the room, still naked, hands expressively embellishing his words. She had no qualms about entertaining Gibbs, but was stunned that Jack was willing to pay for an entire evening. T’wasn’t like Jack at all.
“What do you get out of this?” she asked him suspiciously. She knew Jack better than this; he wasn’t usually this magnanimous. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been that way.
He stopped in front of her and brushed a wisp of hair off her cheek, lightly running his finger along her jaw. “The satisfaction of seeing a good mate of mine enjoy his birthday.” He grinned slyly. “Same thing you’re getting out of that sewing thingie you are so adamant on getting Scarlett.”
Giselle’s mouth gaped. “Why I never! How did you…?”
Jack gave her a big grin and spread his arms wide. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow! Savvy?” He dropped his arms to his side. “And, Scarlett told me what happened to her old one. Put two and two together and Bob’s your uncle, Fannie’s your aunt, there you are! Never saw you as the type to be spending your time bent over a needle.”
Giselle started to protest.
“Don’t worry,” he added hastily, “I won’t ruin your surprise.” He retrieved his clothes and donned them. Bending down to pull on his boots he paused and asked, “Will you do it?”
Giselle sighed. She’d rather have entertained Jack, but she did need the money. And he did seem sincere. “Sure, Jack. Why not? Mister Gibbs is about the only member of your crew I haven’t entertained. Should be interesting.”
Jack paused, straightening slowly. “You’ve been with all of them?”
“Well, not at the same time,” she snapped, impatiently. “Jack, it’s what I do for a living, remember?”
Jack sat back down on the side of the bed, obviously troubled. “Mister Cotton?” he asked looking up, hesitantly.
Giselle smiled. A really sweet gent, she’d taken him in one night when he was down on his luck…. before he’d joined Jack’s crew. “Yes; his parrot mutters. Did you know that? And watches, too. Rather unnerving.”
Jack’s face twitched, either from trying not to laugh or trying to envision Giselle with the old geezer. “And Marty?” he inquired, almost fearfully
“Just because a man is short, doesn’t mean he’s not able.” And that shortness proved an interesting twist to the evening. She had even learned a few new tricks that night.
Jack shook his head in dismay, apparently having never thought of his crew enjoying the same privileges as he when it came to the wenches.
Swallowing, he stood. “Well then, no worries, eh?” he announced, brightly. “You and Gibbs should get along splendidly.”
****
It took some prodding on Jack’s part, and wheedling on Giselle’s, but eventually, she found herself alone in the room with Mister Gibbs.
“Remember, the night is young. Make sure to pace yourself.” Jack’s parting words had only served to make the poor man more nervous.
Once upstairs, Gibbs stood just inside the doorway, with a look of terror on his face. Giselle had made sure to bring a bottle of rum; it appeared they were going to need it.
Gibbs’ body went rigid as she approached and ran a practiced hand up his arm. “What would you like to do?”
He swallowed. “Perhaps we oughtta have a drink,” he said rather hoarsely. “And get t’ know one another a bit first.”
Giselle shrugged. She was used to all sorts - some wanted to talk, some wanted to sing (those were the most difficult). Most just wanted to get what they paid for and get back to drinking. Gibbs, well… it wasn’t definite, but he looked like he wanted to run the other way.
She poured them each a cup of rum and handed him one. He slumped down in the only chair and took several quick gulps, leaving Giselle to perch herself on the edge of the bed. That move seemed to only make her companion even more nervous.
“So, whatcha want t’ talk about?” She figured to try to get him to relax…somehow. “I know, tell me what’s it like sailin’ with Jack.”
Gibbs took another swallow, rolling his eyes in relief. “Jack’s a fair captain. Never asks the men to do nothin’ he’d not do himself. Treats ‘em right, feeds ‘em well, generous with the rum. A good man.”
Giselle sighed. That life seemed so exciting, so adventurous. She would love to be able to sail away from the squalor, and despair and filth of Tortuga. Yet, all those seafarin’ gents seemed to love comin’ back here.
“So why do all the gents love Tortuga so?”
Gibbs raised his bushy brows and opened him mouth to respond then clamped it shut. “For the scenery, mostly,” he mumbled, looking away sheepishly.
Giselle laughed. “That’s a good one! Been called many things before, but never been called that! Scenery. Gonna have to remember that one.” She was still chuckling when she realized that Gibbs was looking quite mortified.
She rose and walked behind him and wrapped her arms around him. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she ran a hand down the front of his shirt, playing lightly with the curls on his chest. He stiffened slightly and she sighed. Jack was right. Poor Gibbs needed more than compensation. “Jack told me I was t’ show you a good time. Don’t you want to play?”
“I’d rather play cards.”
Giselle blinked. Straightening, she stepped around and peered into the man’s frozen features. “Cards?”
Gibbs swallowed another large gulp “No offense, miss,” he blurted out. “You’re lovely; prettier than any other wench I’ve seen. That’s the trouble I’m a-having: you look just like my sister’s Nina.”
“Nina?”
“Aye, Nina. Uncle Josh she calls me.”
“Uncle Josh.”
“Aye.”
“I see. We do have a bit of a problem, don’t we?”
“Aye.”
****
“Wonder how Mister Gibbs is makin’ out,” Jack mused aloud, glancing up at the ceiling with a smirk.
“Past that point by now,” Marty grunted, dealing the cards.
“Past that point and passed out, probably. Told him to pace himself.” Jack chuckled and took a peek at his hand.
Marty just grunted again.
****
“Your deal.” Giselle yawned. “I’m about done in.”
Gibbs picked up the rum bottle and tipped it upside down. A single drop plopped onto the table. “Rum’s gone too.” He looked at the door. “Reckon it’s been long enough?”
Giselle smiled sleepily at him. “Yeah, Jack must have figured we’ve done all we could do, by now.”
Gibbs gave her a grateful smile. “Best keep this our little secret.” He yawned as well and rose to leave. “Appreciate you not havin’ no hard feelings.”
Giselle shrugged and hooked her arm into his. “I enjoyed myself. Really. But remember, if you ever change yer mind, I owe you.”
They made their way through the tavern, much quieter by that hour of the night, weaving through the assorted drunks draped over tables and passed out on the floor. They found Jack at the back of the room, asleep on the bench.
Gibbs winked at Giselle. “Maybe you oughtta take ‘em back to the room,” he suggested, quietly “Man paid fer it, might as well get some use out of the bed.”
She bent down and whispered in Jack’s ear, one eye opening.
“Done already?” he mumbled sleepily. “Told ‘em to pace himself.”
Giselle smiled and winked broadly at Gibbs.” Oh, he did. Best time I’ve had in ages.”
****
True to his word, Jack did not spoil her surprise. Scarlett was thrilled when she opened her present and saw the beautiful new sewing kit. In a very unusual display of emotion, tears sprang to her eyes and she ran over and hugged Giselle.
“This is wonderful! Look at all these! How did you ever afford this?”
Giselle smiled and thought back to ‘the night of cards’, as she fondly referred to it. “Had some help from some old friends,” she said simply.
Scarlett squealed with delight like a young girl as she removed each item. “Oh look! There are scissors, and thread winders,” Scarlett exclaimed, her nose deep in the basket. “And bobbins and bodkins!”
Giselle snorted silently to herself. Bobbins and bodkins - sounded like a team of mules.
“This is the nicest gift I’ve ever received!” Scarlett had tears in her eyes as she sat back, her bits and bobs surrounding her. “I don’t know how to thank you!”
Giselle shrugged. “Least I could do, seeing I ruined the last one. Just wanted to see you have something nice for yer birthday.”
She laid back on the bed, listening to Scarlett’s joy at the gift she’d received and smiled. Jack was right, after all. It was much more better to give…
****