Loosen Up

James Norrington sighed, raising a hand to rub tired eyes. He looked back down to the surface of his desk, which was littered with paperwork of all kinds and varieties.

The lamp at the corner flickered and dimmed, coating the office in darkness suddenly. He sighed heavily again and stood, leaning forward. He snatched the lamp. The day was already long enough without the extra trouble of rifling through the supply closet to refill the lamp.

He never made it to the supply closet. The lamp was tossed aside carelessly, forgotten.

"What is the meaning of this?" James demanded, head swiveling between his two Lieutenants, "Theodore, Andrew! Let go of me at once!" Each of them held an arm as they half guided, half dragged him along, away from the fort.

"We have made an executive decision, James." Theodore Groves told him, "You've been working yourself far to hard these past few weeks."

"Months, rather." Andre Gillette interjected. "Everyone but you can see it. The men are starting to talk."

James could tell by the feel of their grip that any attempts to escape their clutches would be in vain. He knew his friends better than that. He wondered what they had in store for him. It worried him.

"At least tell me where you're taking me, and why it's so much more important than my duties…"

"No more talk of duty." Theodore waved his free hand in the air dismissively.

"That's the point of our intervention. So don't be so stubborn." Andrew added.

"Where are we going? Surely you two trouble makers can divulge that bit of information. Besides- I'll find out once we get there, so long as you two don't plan to blindfold me as well." James immediately cursed himself for the last line, fearing he might give them ideas.

"And have you already plotting you escape? I don't think so, James. You'll just have to wait and see. And there shall be no need for a blindfold, unless you keep this up." Theodore tsked.

"Don't you trust us? We're your friends- we wouldn't knowingly lead you into something dangerous."

Leave it to Andrew to play the guilt card.

James sighed again, for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening alone. "All right. But I can walk on my own. I don't need you to hold onto my arms for dear life, as you are."

Andrew's grip loosened instantly, but Theodore's held steady.

"How do we know you wouldn't run away?"

"He's not going anywhere, Teddy. Let him go already."

"He is directly between you and can hear you. And he wishes to inform you that he doesn't like it when you talk about him as if he's not there. And no, I'm not going to suddenly make a mad dash back towards the safety of the fort."

The trio came to a stop before a rickety wooden door, dark wood weather-beaten and aged. Above it hung a faded sign, swaying back and forth on rusty, creaking hinges in the light breeze.

"The Captain's Quarters?" James asked incredulously, turning a skeptical eye on his companions.

A grin crossed Theodore's face, "What happens behind the Captain's closed doors, stays behind closed doors."

"No one pays attention to anyone else here. We figured it would be the best place for you to ease your nerves." Andrew explained, opening the door for them.

The tavern was dimly lit, with scattered tables in the center of a single, large room, built-in cubby-like booths lining the walls on three sides. A bar stretched out across the fourth side. Behind it stood several waitresses in slightly ragged and smudged dresses. Smoke clouded the air and clung around the few lamps.

Theodore guided them to the bar and sat down, ordering ale for himself and James, inclining his head towards Andrew.

James barely had time to think of how exactly he had let himself be dragged here before they were served. He pressed his lips together as the tankard was placed in front of him.

Theodore raised his own, "To luck."

Andrew followed, "To luck, and life."

James slowly joined them, tankards clanking together, "To luck and life, indeed." He tilted his head back and slowly drained the amber liquid. He was here, he might as well try and enjoy it…

Theodore laughed heartily.

"Captain Elkheart never found out who did it!" Andrew nodded emphatically.

"I never knew you two were such mischief-makers." James shook his head. "Well," He turned to Theodore, "I'm not surprised about you. But, you, Andrew?"

"I'm just better at covering my tracks than he is." Andrew laughed, shrugging. He signaled the barmaid for another round.

"Hey, I take offense to that." Theodore pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Shut up and have another ale."

"I've ne'er seen a group o' men so jolly before." The barmaid turned to the keep, "An' I don't think I e'er seen the Commodore havin' a good time." She smiled. "It's good the man isn't workin' himself so hard, now."

"How much 'ave they had?"

"Oh, plenty, I'm sure. But they be payin', so I'm not gonna cut them off any time soon." She lifted a round and carried it to the table.

"This one's on the house, loves." She winked at Andrew as she served.

"She likes you, my friend." Theodore told him as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Oh please." Andrew rolled his eyes, "Don't be ridiculous, Teddy." He took a drink.

"Is that a blush I spy?" Theodore teased, seeing nothing but an opening.

"She seems nice enough, but honestly Teddy- she's not my type. Perhaps you should court her." Andrew poked back, as he did after a few drinks.

Neither of them were paying attention to the Commodore and consequently didn't realize he has farther ahead of them on number of drinks. He tossed his head back and drained his tankard, again.

"Or maybe she's James's type." Theodore turned his attentions from Andrew.

James looked up, eyes slightly glazed. "What?" He asked, staring at them, completely oblivious to the question.

Andrew and Theodore burst out into laugher.

"You know, James, you look quite fetching with that mustache- perhaps you should consider growing one."

James raised a hand to his upper lip, wiping away the foam. He thought for a moment, a look of deep concentration on his face, "Honestly?"

Theodore nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes- the ladies would love it." Andrew giggled.

James thought again. He nodded, considering. "Hmm."

"Another round!"

The evening was turning out to be very favorable, indeed. James thought, as the refreshing taste of ale crossed his tongue. He rarely indulged; perhaps he ought to more often. Just a drink or so, every so often.

He looked over at his companions. They were once again arguing over something. Pointless, most likely. He rarely saw them like this, though, he though, that was probably due to the fact that he really didn't see anyone off-duty, much. He was always wrapped up in work, somehow. There was always work to be done, plus the emptiness of his house once the servants had gone home for the day was not the most welcoming.

He smiled lopsidedly and tossed his head back, finishing the tankard. He looked over at Andrew and Theodore. Still at it. No drinks on their expense, then. He signaled the barmaid.

"How do you do it?" James asked, suddenly.

Theodore and Andrew stopped and turned to him.

"Do what, James?" Andrew asked, slowly.

"You two seem… 'appy. You go home at night to an empty house, like I do." James waved his hand around wildly in the air.

"I don't go home to an empty house." Andrew said. "I have Mademoiselle Anastasie, she keeps me company."

"I have cats, too. Two of them: Jewels and Dorothy. You pawned them off on me- that last litter you found in your office." Theodore nodded.

"Oh." James said softly, somewhat dejected. He sank back. His eyes brightened, slowly.

Andrew tilted his head to the side, watching the slow, but steady, thought process, as James's expressions changed visibly with each shift.

"That's what I need!" James announced triumphantly. He looked back and forth between the other two men, "A cat. I need a cat."

Theodore chuckled, "We'll see what we can do come tomorrow, all right James?"

Andrew mumbled something and stood, disappearing out towards the back of the tavern.

"Where's he goin'?" James asked.

"He's going to find you a cat." Theodore told him.

"Oh, okay."

Silence fell between the two men. James found himself absorbed in the patterns in the polished wood of the table. He traced them deftly with his finger, leaning down close, nose nearly touching it.

Theodore sighed, contented. He thought for a moment, "Perhaps a final pint to finish off the night…" He started to raise his hand to call the barmaid.

James's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "It comes in pints?!" His voice squeaked slightly. His head fell forward suddenly, hitting the table with a dull thud.

Theodore stared at him. He turned back forward, taking in the last of his drink.

Andrew returned a few moments later, to see James passed out on the bar, one arm dangling at his side, the other lying haphazardly across the bar, fingers still holding onto a near-empty tankard.

Theodore slowly pulled his fingers away, taking it from him. He drank the last few swallows. He looked up to see Andrew staring at him. "What?" He gestured at James's prone figure, "He's not going to miss it."

"He's passed out!" Andrew cried.

"It appears that he is."

"Teddy!" Andrew cried again, dismay clearly slowing on his face, "What did you do to him?"

"What do you mean, what did I do to him? You bought him four rounds yourself!"

"I bought him three. How many did you buy him?"

"Three."

Andrew was unconvinced.

"Five."

"He doesn't usually drink that much… Perhaps we over did it." Andrew sighed.

Theodore tilted his head, "I don't think that was all us. He ordered some himself, too."

"Good lord- how many has he had, then?"

"Enough to call it a night."

"You're a riot, Teddy." Andrew said dryly. He tossed a couple of coins on the table, "Come on, we have to get him back."

Carrying a drunken, limp Commodore back from the tavern proved to be a harder task than either of them had expected.

"Watch out!"

"That was my foot!"

"Don't drop him…"

"You've already done that."

"It was an accident! I tripped."

"It's not like he's going to remember in the morning, anyway."

They made it to James's home after what seemed like hours of half-carrying, half-dragging him from the tavern and up the stairs. They laid him somewhat unceremoniously on the bed, letting him flop down on top of the blankets.

"There's some extra blankets in the linen cupboard, throw a couple over him."

James mumbled incoherently and rolled onto his side, curling up into a fetal position.

Andrew tucked the blanket lightly around him. He looked over at Teddy. "This is rather amusing, isn't it?"

Theodore nodded tiredly. "Best we not mention the details in mixed company."

Andrew chortled, "If we value our positions and our lives."

"I was thinking more of avoiding castration."

They cast a glance back at the sleeping Commodore.

"He does look rather sweet like that, though."

"Indeed."

The End