“If a callous vanished each time you did that I’d have hands that never worked a day again,” Thomas teased, his tone warm in a way that indicated he genuinely was not bothered by the state of his hands and considered James’ attention to them truly flattering.
He made no move to stop the man, either, simply choosing to shift himself so that he could take a seat again – he had not even been gone long, so there was really no excuse for James’ needing to touch him, any more than there was a reason for Thomas craving the offer of it. Yet in the dark hours of the night, when all there was in the world was the creak of the ship and the slap of the waves to remind him of where and when he was, Thomas found he needed James more than ever to feel as if the world was real.
He never believed in happy endings before, and maybe that was why like James, he did not like being apart for more than was absolutely necessary – and that until they touched again, everything felt a little more brittle and fragile than before.
Thomas had been keeping an eye on the lieutenant for more of the evening than was precisely proper – but in truth, he had been preparing for a moment exactly like this. Both he and Miranda had been in silent agreement that they would not speak up on McGraw’s behalf until he did so himself – at which point, they would be well beyond reproach for stepping in and quashing such remarks at future engagements.
When it did happen, his heart had swelled with pride for the way McGraw held his chin up, daring anyone to challenge him for such willful commentary. It was not the greatest opening, but it was a large enough one that Thomas and his wife had room to maneuver as their guests were leaving, to subtle lay the reminder that McGraw was their guest as surely as they were, and was to be treated as such.
Eventually, the room was mostly cleared, with only their dearest friends still in the parlor with Miranda, granting Thomas a free moment to excuse himself and address their fuming lieutenant before he gave himself an apoplexy. Securing them in his office, Thomas found himself temporarily startled by the outburst, but not so much that he could not recover swiftly.
“I tolerate them because I must, James,” Thomas was not about to fall back on formality now of all times. He had worked too hard to wear the lieutenant down to referring to him by his given name to surrender it now on account of his idiotic companions. Society chose his counterparts as surely as he did, an unfortunate truth Thomas had learned to stomach long ago. “You, however, are in no such position.”
Stepping over to the man, Thomas unconsciously tended to the man’s nerves as Miranda would manage his own, reaching up and gently straightening his lapels in a quiet reminder that appearance was everything, and so long as we looked our part, what we did behind closed doors – who we were beyond the mask – would remain safe.
“I will never fault you for excusing yourself, or making your own opinions known. You are as much my associate as they are – whether they like it or not,” He assured firmly, laying his palms soothingly upon the man’s chest now, and simply gazing down into his eyes in the hopes of impressing upon the lieutenant how intently he meant this. “I value your stances James – and if anyone in my parlor is making you feel like you don’t belong there, that is as much my failing as it is theirs.”
Thomas barely even had time to register the danger he was in before a flurry of leather and rage had burst past him, and there was a rather abrupt ( albeit short ) battle before him. Lowering his book, Thomas stared in absolute astonishment as James ruthlessly cut a man down, strangely detached from the overwhelming force of the violence at hand.
He only reacted when blood seeped its way down the planks toward his shoes – urging him to rise and step lightly over the rolling mess toward James, who was breathing heavily and staring down at the corpse he had made as if incensed beyond the capacity to truly see it. Tucking his book into his shirt, Thomas reached down and clasped both hands around the fist presently clenched around the handle of a bloody cutlass, waiting until his beloved’s glorious mixed hues sought him out.
“Thank you, my dear.” He spoke calmly, unafraid of James even in this state – and perhaps that was arrogant, perhaps that was where danger like this one was born. It mattered little to Thomas – his interest, now, was solely in bringing his lover back to him, lest he be forced along with the rest of the crew to deal with Flint for who knew how long.
“Come here,” He insisted, drawing on James’ hand with one of his, pulling him close as his other hand rose to rest on the man’s opposite shoulder. Heedless of the body at their feet, uncaring about the gazes surely upon them, Thomas leaned in and kissed the man – showing his gratitude as surely as demanding James stay with him, rather than get lost in whatever place it was he had built for himself when rage was the only emotion that made sense.
Thomas’ expression spoke rather clearly to how pleased he was about this situation, but despite the openness in which he wore his frustration, the silence that carried on between the two men was a high indication that he was as of yet still calculating a means out of the entire business.
“What do you want from me?” He settled on flatly, unwilling to budge an inch on this topic – nor desiring to have anyone else brought into it. He was functioning fine and would surely be able to stomach food again in a day or two, once the nausea and memories had worn themselves through and the needs of his body outweighed the demands of his mind to avoid food at all costs.
“My portion of whatever it is we are chasing is yours, if that is what it takes for you to maintain your customary silence.”
“Ah – thank you Billy,” Thomas did not hesitate to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders once it settled, a wealth of gratitude swelling within him. His time amid the fields in Havana had taught him well not to voice complaint, least of all over things no man could control, such as the weather. It had been bitterly cold for some time, and he doubted he was the only man to think so – that Billy was kind enough to see his discomfort and act to alleviate it despite his silence spoke volumes to the other man’s good nature. “Does the weather not bother you?” He wondered, certain that Billy’s attire was no more suited to this chill than his own.
17. Your character walking in on mine having an embarrassing fall.
Pushing himself up from the floor after a rather horrific tumble down a blessedly short flight of stairs, Thomas stilled as he noted a pair of polished shoes – upon which the wig which had flown from his head and likely slid across the polished wood had come to settle.
Flushing furiously with embarrassment, Thomas brought himself to his feet to face whom he would have to apologize to on account of his own misfortune. The sight of the young upstart from the EITC made him want to swallow his tongue entirely and feign far greater injury than that which he had actually attained solely to avoid this particular encounter, but in the end he grit out that which polite society dictated, and even managed to paint on a smile in the process.
Miranda, at least, would be proud of him for not simply storming out of the building and returning home in a right state.
Abigail’s brows rose up at the display before her, though it was Billy’s conspiratorial whisper that tugged her lips into a smile. Leaning over, she laid a delicate hand on his arm and patted it understandingly, unable to resist such an easy opening.
There were few secrets between Jane and her shadow, save what she looked like when her clothes were on the floor. Perched in the rafters, he faced the door as she changed – while Jane herself moved about the room and readied herself for the day. There must have been a misunderstanding at the inn’s reception area, as Jane distinctly heard the door unlock moments before she found herself standing bare before the gaze of a complete stranger.
No sooner had she turned around did she see the black shade of her guardian drop from above, doubtless intent on gutting the poor man for what he laid witness to. Alarmed as she was, Jane was hardly about to let there be bloodshed over a mere misunderstanding.
“Wait, Diego! Address him, if you please. I will be outside in a moment.” Her guardian had intended to be more efficient – he had a gun pointed at the head of the intruder, but was steady on her command and motioned with it. Shooing the man back and indicating they grant the woman her due privacy.
Closing the door behind him, Diego stated flatly, “Run or try anything, and I will be painting the walls with your brains. You will wait for her ladyship’s judgement.”
7. Your character walking in on mine making a shady transaction.
The coin had already passed hands when Charles noted the familiar form of Billy Bones lurking in the shadows not far off – looking less like a man with intent on keeping himself hidden, and more like one who had come to the fast conclusion he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was debating what the fuck to do about it.
Accepting the roll of leather that contained his purchase, Charles returned his gaze to the seller and held it until the man backed down, turning and heading down the opposite direction of where Bones was standing. Tucking the roll into his shirt, there was a moment in which he considered doing the same – but in the end, he shifted on his heels and marched the way he needed to go, even if it did mean right past the other man.
On his way by, he met Billy’s gaze as if daring him to say anything – admittedly curious to see if he might dare.
Ocean Archive 