OMG, Fic! XD
Jan. 16th, 2010 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
le_russe_satanTitle: "Trade Union"
Rating: PG-13 for suggestiveness.
Pairing: Sharpe/Wellington
A/N: The fic is not to be taken seriously. Clearly, the characters in it did not actually behave like that, though God knows... XD
“I wish one of you told me that he did not go hunting today after all,” said Lord March coming into the library. Not that the room ever deserved that name. There was a suspicious lack of books in it and only one rather tattered newspaper, which Colonel Gordon, the chief aide-de-camp to Lord Wellington, presently lowered to look at the dejected sounding youth. The others, - Colonel Burgh, Colonel Canning, Major Fremantle and Lord Worcester, - stirred as well, Lord Worcester nearly falling from the couch on which he was stretched out, using Canning's lap as a pillow and Burgh and Fremantle pausing over their chess game.
“A despatch just came for him. From Larpent,” continued March, prompting a sigh from Canning, “I just handed it to him.”
“Gordon, put me down for two and a half minutes,” said Worcester yawning.
“Five minutes and fifteen seconds, “ called Fremantle returning his gaze to the chessboard. “I'll try my luck today.”
“Three and twenty,” mumbled Canning trying to unsuccessfully comb Worcester's ruffled hair with his fingers into a more respectable state.
“One and forty,” said Burgh, scratching his chin thoughtfully. Lord March declined making a bet with a shake of his head and perched on the arm of Gordon's chair, liberating the man of the newspaper. Ignoring the 'thief' for now, Gordon nodded and noted the time on his pocketwatch.
In the silence that followed they easily heard a muffled crash from the office just down the corridor.
“Three and two. Lt.- Colonel Canning wins,” announced Gordon, stowing away his pocketwatch and tugging the newspaper out of March's hands. The younger man pouted but surrendered it without a murmur.
“My, his lordship is showing miracles of patience today,” grumbled Burgh and finally moved one of his pawns. “Yesterday I was afraid he'd box my ears simply because I had to attend to certain natural urges.”
“Clearly, you did not choose your natural urge correctly,” Worcester's suggestive grin faded as soon as Canning slapped his head lightly and told him not to be vulgar.
“If it's about any new charges, as I am sure it is, they can't be against anyone he knows very well,” mused Canning as he continued combing Worcerster's hair having just ruined any results he'd already achieved. “Otherwise half a minute would be the winning time. Not that any of us bid on it.”
“God! It does not bear thinking about!” March was prevented from falling off his 'perch' only by Gordon's timely application of his hand around March's waist. “The first man who comes into mind with such an outcome is Sharpe.” Every man in the room shuddered at the idea. Worcerster curled up against Canning, as if seeking protection, and shivered. “If it was Sharpe, you'd likely be dead now, March.”
Fremantle chuckled. “Oh, come now. The General is not a man to kill the messenger.”
“No,” drawled Burgh, “but if it was about Sharpe, he'd be in such a mood as to make us wish we were dead.”
The door opened again admitting Lord Somerset in time to hear the collective murmur of assent. The left sleeve of his scarlet jacket was liberally splattered with ink. The single black spot on his cheek only enhanced the man's stony facial expression.
“Inkwell again, was it?” Asked Gordon placidly. “We only have three left, Somerset. They are fast becoming a very scarce resource in these parts.”
“Well, don't tell me where they are because then they will become a non-existent resource for I'd hurl them all at his head,” Somerset's tone was deceptively calm, which made Worcester press closer to Canning forgetting all about bravery and gallantry. March was a little more deserving of his military rank: quickly disentagling himself from Gordon's hold, he crossed the room and poured a glass of port from the decanter standing on the sideboard.
It seemed that Somerset didn't even register emptying the glass in one go, but his posture was a little more relaxed as he sunk into the free armchair.
“You can come out now, Worcester,” grinned Burgh and finally checkmated Fremantle. “So, are we to partake of wine to excess again tonight?” He asked leaning back in his chair and pretending to ignore Fremantle's irritated stare.
“Yes, I'm afraid so,” Gordon waited for March, who had returned to his seat, to finish reading the article and turned the page. “I for my part cannot come up with any other reason for us all to either be conveniently absent or so soundly asleep that we do not hear the repeated thumping of the headboard against the wall or his lordship's somewhat poor attempts at whispering.”
“Ah, I quite forgot your room is right next to his, Gordon,” said Somerset finally looking up from the empty glass. “He really can't whisper, can he? I am just glad our headquarters here are so small they can only house us.”
“If this goes on any longer, I will never be able to look at wine or port again.”
Everyone turned to look at Worcester. “You do realise we are only pretending to get drunk?” Finally asked Somerset. The silence and the blush on the young man's face was answer enough. This time it was Gordon who fixed Canning with a heavy look, which was a more than passable impression of the ones that Wellington was capable of.
“Canning, you share a room with Worcester. Didn't you notice he was really getting drunk all this time?”
“I thought he was just acting! And then when we'd reach the room, well... he'd always distract me,” Canning's blush was even more furious than Worcester's. Somerset leaned over and patted his shoulder.
“Happens to the best of us. I remember Sharpe, erm, distracted the General so thoroughly, the man did not notice a rather clear handprint on his breeches. Lord knows, you ought not play with chocolate while you are still dressed... What is it, Worcester? Do you have something in your throat? March, you too? I hope you are not getting ill.”
“What did you do about it?” asked Burgh, taking pity on the two young men.
“I fell into the mud, taking him with me and didn't let him up until the handprint wasn't quite so obvious. Never thought I'd be so grateful for the abundance of mud.” Somerset made a face and got up to refill his glass.
“And what did he do?” March's voice trembled slightly and there was enough awe in it to make Gordon resent Somerset for it.
“Well, let's say he was very and very unflattering in his descriptions of me, though extremely inventive. Gordon here saved me from a worst fate: played up a recent wound of mine so skillfully and with such drama, I almost believed in it's severity myself.”
Gordon opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of raised voices and door slamming prevented him from doing so. “That was Alava,” said Fremantle who had by far the best hearing of them all. Somerset sighed and rose.
“Seeing as my jacket is already ruined, I shall go and see whether his lordship can spare a minute for Captain Sharpe. I suggest one of you makes sure said Captain arrives to headquarters as soon as possible. And then I suggest we take a turn or two around the town square, what do you think Gordon?”
“I think three or four turns. Seven if Sharpe is in a foul mood himself,” replied Gordon hiding behind the tattered pages.
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no subject
Date: 2010-01-16 10:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-16 10:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-16 06:06 pm (UTC)Very well written indeed. Thank you.
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Date: 2010-01-16 06:09 pm (UTC)^__^ Glad you liked it. :D
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Date: 2010-01-16 07:14 pm (UTC)Oh that's clever. Well done!
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Date: 2010-01-16 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-17 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-17 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 08:20 am (UTC)I already anticipated something good from the two tiny excerpts you sent me while I was at the larp conference. I was grinning like mad while supposed to vote and discuss the admittance of 4 new countries into the campaign. I couldn't wait to read it all.
Now, that I did I demand more! XD
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Date: 2010-01-19 10:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 10:41 am (UTC)Anyways, you got me hooked on your ADCs... and the other glimpses you bestowed me with just prove that I am right: you have to write more cause it's greatness! XDD