"Bloody crew," Jack mumbled, as he walked down the deck to the captain's cabin - his cabin and none other's, certainly not that scurvy knave Hector Barbossa. Without looking to see if Will were stil behind him - where else would he choose to go? - he flounced into the cabin, leaving the door invitingly open, making straight to the ever-present bottle of rum on the map table. He pulled out the cork, and took a good long draught of the potable, before wiping his mouth and offering it to Will.