Disclaimer:  Panzer and Disney own two of the characters in this story.   I promise to return them more or less as I found them.   Mab belongs to me.    Please don't post this anywhere without my permission.

Rated: PG-13

An Offer She Couldn't Refuse


by Gyrfalcon
May 2004


Mab had been an innkeeper in Port Royal for ten years serving pirates and assorted riff and raff. She kept a cutlass under the bar and wore a jambiyah at her belt to remind mortals and Immortals alike that she would tolerate no nonsense. A certain amount of roughhousing went with the territory - Port Royal did have its reputation as the wickedest city on earth to uphold after all and Mab was civic-minded - up to a point.

At the moment she was concentrating on the familiar sound of trouble walking through her door. The Parrot Inn was open to everyone and sooner or later everyone walked through her door - pirates, redcoats, sinners, and even one possible saint. She served everyone equally as long as they followed one simple rule - no blood on the floor. Duels, stabbings, and other assorted mayhem were to be carried outside. Mab considered herself a tolerant person, but some of her customers required more tolerance than others. From the sounds coming from the street outside, one of those customers was coming through the door.

Captain Jack Sparrow walked into the tavern with the air of a man on a mission. It was Mab's considered opinion that Jack didn't walk into trouble, he sashayed gaily towards it as if it were a lover. Secretly, she liked Jack, but the only way to deal with him was to keep a ready frown and a stern refusal to be swayed by his charm. She didn't always succeed. The challenge was to see how long she could hold out and how determined Jack was to get what he wanted.

"Greetings, m'lady," Jack said gallantly as he made an unsteady and surprisingly soggy bow.

Mab stared at him. She knew his penchant for arriving in port on sinking ships, but the last she'd heard, he had regained the Black Pearl. If there was one ship in the Seven Seas that was unsinkable, she'd put her money on the Pearl.

"You're wet," Mab observed aloud staring at the puddle growing around Jack's feet.

Jack looked surprised and stared down at the water dripping from his clothing with an air of betrayal. There were snickers from various corners of the room, but Jack blandly ignored them.

"Rum." Jack took three strides to the bar and gave Mab a winning smile.

"You're still wet . . . and dripping on my floor," Mab replied blandly, hiding her own smile. It was too early in the game to give Jack an edge.

"Rum," Jack repeated fuzzily. Mab tried to recall if Jack had ever communicated in anything other than fuzzy, but decided her memory wasn't that good.

Mab poured out a glass of rum, but held it just out of Jack's reach. "Silver."

Jack pouted for a moment, cocked his head as if looking at Mab sideways would give him an advantage, then dug into the pouch at his belt. When a silver coin appeared in his fingers, he stared at it in surprise before laying it on the bar. A cautious exchange of glass and silver took place.

Mab gestured to her serving wenches to get back to work and waited for Jack's story. He always had a story. The question was whether he was buying or selling a tale.

Downing the rum in one long swallow, Jack leaned in for a confidential whisper. Mab tried not to inhale the rum fumes. It was too early in the day to get drunk and it was a very bad idea to get drunk around Jack. He had the magical ability to make completely insane ideas sound plausible. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the Immortals move out of the shadows to a place close enough to the bar to intervene if trouble erupted. Mab smiled. Kastagir was more likely to embrace Jack's ideas than to talk her out of them, but she appreciated the gesture. Kastagir hadn't met Jack. Mab considered the prospect of the two of them becoming friends with alarm. The Caribbean was too fragile to survive that friendship.

"I happen to have an offer you can't refuse," Jack intoned spewing rum fumes far enough to cause Kastagir to blink. Mab prayed to the Lady and any other gods that might be listening to please keep Kastagir from introducing Jack to boom-boom. The world wasn't ready for Jack on boom-boom. She wasn't entirely certain the world coped well with Kastagir on it.

"First tell me why you're dripping sea-water on my clean floor," Mab countered. If Jack had lost the Pearl again, she wanted to know this upfront.

"I'm wet because I have an offer," Jack explained in his unique oblique style. Mab was reasonably certain that this made perfect sense to Jack. He tended to jam the beginning and the end of an explanation together in a way that eliminated the boring middle parts - the parts that contained all the relevant information.

Mab poured another glass of rum and held it out of Jack's reaching hand. He scowled, then tried a smile, then with an expression that indicated he felt much put upon, he continued.

"The Pearl needs a cook," he said as he smiled brightly at her. Mab stared back in total disbelief. In her distraction, Jack grabbed the rum and swallowed it before she could react.

"Rum helps a man dry out, you know," Jack offered solemnly. At the end of the bar, Kastagir snorted but assumed a look of total innocence when Mab glared at him.

"And this explains why you're wet?" Mab asked still trying to make sense out of Jack's cryptic clues.

Jack looked offended then shrugged. "My crew is a little upset. They sent me ashore to get a cook. We lost ours," Jack confessed, leaning in close to whisper this news. Mab saw Kastagir edge closer and gestured him to stand down.

Jack swiveled his head around to stare at Kastagir. "You're very tall," he commented as he took in Kastagir's looming presence. "Want some rum?" he added brightly, sweeping his hand in open invitation to join him for a drink.

Mab saw Kastagir's grin before it hit his lips and turned the full force of her frown on him. She might only be four-foot, ten to Kastagir's six feet, but he swallowed his grin quickly. Both of them knew she'd never fight him, but she might close her kitchen to him. Kastagir wasn't going to take any chances.

"Milk," he said quietly. Jack looked stunned, his mouth opened then closed again as if for the first time in his life he was at a loss for words.

Without a word, Mab poured Kastagir a large mug of koumiss. She kept some on hand just for him. It wasn't his preferred boom-boom, but it would do in a pinch.

Jack stared as Kastagir poured the fermented milk down in a long, white stream, then shuddered. Mab smothered a chuckle as Kastagir grinned widely, white teeth and a white milk moustache shining brightly.

"And so, m'lady . . ."

"How did you lose a cook?" Mab asked. Jack had a loose grip on material possessions, the Black Pearl being a notable exception, but losing a cook seemed to be going a bit far even for Jack.

"The crew decided he needed to learn to swim." Jack paused and squinted as if scouring his memory. "I don't think sinking counts. Do you?" he asked brightly. Mab tried not to roll her eyes. The gods were definitely not on her side today.

"When do we get the part where you got wet?" Mab asked with an air of innocent curiosity. As a rule, she disapproved of torture, but there were times when she was tempted - usually when trying to pull information out of Jack.

"Ah, well, you see, since I hired the cook, the crew felt it was my responsibility to find a replacement." Jack paused and smiled blearily at Mab. Mab wasn't fooled. The more drunk Jack appeared, the greater the chance that his calculating brain was operating at full speed. "They said making me swim for shore might encourage me to find a good cook," Jack said with the heavy tone of the misunderstood.

"So, your crew tossed the cook overboard and now you're here asking me if I want to be your cook?" Mab asked putting all the pieces together and wondering which god she'd offended.

Jack smiled brightly and nodded. His eyes were alight with mischief as they watched her closely for a reaction.

"Why should I leave this nice, comfortable tavern for a ship hunted by every privateer on the Caribbean?" Mab asked calmly. Yelling at Jack never did any good, as tempting as it was. Kastagir hastily wiped the grin off his face as Mab turned to glare at him.

"Go on, Mab. You're getting too damn respectable. Port Royal will be here when you get back," Kastagir urged expansively.

"Port Royal might be, but will this tavern?" Mab asked bluntly. "Are you volunteering to watch over it?" she asked with less exasperation than she expected. Jack was a damned devil to come here and interrupt her placid life with the temptation to be out and doing things again.

"I might," Kastagir replied in a more serious tone than Mab expected.

"Someone after you?" Mab asked concerned and quite forgetting Jack standing there absorbing every word.

"No, but I wouldn't mind a year or two of peace and quiet."

Mab stared at him and realized there were tired lines around his eyes. There were few places where Immortals could rest. She'd provided sanctuary before. This time it had taken some creativity to create holy ground in a city of sin, but she'd managed. Kastagir would be safe here. She'd just have a word with Robert and a few other friends who could keep an unobtrusive eye on him.

Damn.

With a groan of rueful despair, Mab realized that she was already making plans to hand her tavern over to Kastagir and take Jack up on his outrageous offer.

I'm not a pirate, she complained to her spirit of adventure that suddenly decided to wake up and be heard. It snorted.

"You'll love the horizon you see from the deck of the Pearl," Jack commented softly, his voice a husky whisper as he spoke of his ship. His eyes were dark and distant as he focused on the ocean outside the door. Mab felt the tug of the ocean's horizon and realized that she was going to do this.

"I'll probably regret this," Mab said with a sigh that lightened her heart of burdens she hadn't realized she was carrying. "I hope you brought lots of silver because you're buying the provisions." Mab smiled gaily at Jack as she pulled the cutlass from under the bar and grabbed his arm with her other hand.

"I'll be back. No boom-boom," Mab ordered over her shoulder as she sauntered out the door.

"Not to worry - I'll make some fine tej." Kastagir's voice brimmed with laughter.

"Tej? Is it good?" Jack asked, stopping dead in his tracks nearly pulling Mab off her feet.

"It is wonderful!" Kastagir exclaimed expansively. Jack looked thoughtful.

"No," Mab said firmly, shifting her grip on Jack's arm to keep him pointed forward. Jack gave a heavy sigh and allowed her to steer him towards the marketplace.

"Oh, dear gods," Mab muttered as she resolutely tried to ignore the consequences of unleashing Kastagir's talent for brewing lethal alcoholic beverages on poor, unsuspecting Port Royal.

Come to think of it, Port Royal probably deserved exactly that. This was going to be fun.

The End