Author's Notes: This is in response to the Norrington
Christmas Party
Challenge, made by AvalonAuggie from the Norrington Defense League Yahoogroup.
(It's great fun. If you're a Norrington fan, come and
join us, if you haven't already!) Things
that were supposed to be included: Commentary on
dull socialite women,a
puppy, kicked or otherwise,
a pianoforte, someone spilling hot apple cider, the sentence: "I think
you broke it, sir."
Extra points for any Coupling references, Jane Austen characters
(historical accuracy? what's that?), or use of mistletoe.
Whee. I hope you enjoy it. :) Peace, Elske
"Happy Christmas to All!"
by Elske
"Happy Christmas!" Governor Swann gushed as the door opened to reveal another group of party guests. He always loved the Christmas season…and since he was a newlywed, he was in an even better mood this year than he'd been in ages. He was terribly fond of his new wife…socialite women were so…dull, and he'd always preferred the company of humbler women, really.
Somewhere across the room, Commodore James Norrington flinched as Elizabeth Turner hit another sour note on the pianoforte. It was one of the new occupations she'd taken up since becoming pregnant and having everyone forbid her from doing anything interesting. Unfortunately…she still had quite a bit of learning to do, and to the ears of the Commodore – himself an accomplished pianist – listening to the musical stylings of the woman he'd very nearly married was rather torturous. Luckily for Elizabeth, her husband Will was not nearly so discriminating; he stood nearby, beaming down at his hugely-pregnant wife with something akin to rapture on his face. The poor man.
Somewhere in the distance, bells began tolling out the hour. The Commodore frowned when they were done…surely he'd been at the fête for longer than a quarter-hour? It felt like ages. Well. Christmas certainly wasn't ever one of his favourite holidays, he didn't much care for grand parties, and his Lieutenant still wasn't here.
Elizabeth was finally persuaded off of the piano to give someone else a go; she submitted, grudgingly, then brightened when she saw Norrington out in the crowds, quickly made her way to his side. "Commodore!" she said, rather brightly, beaming up at him. "I'm so pleased you came."
"It is my pleasure, Mrs. Turner," he replied, lying smoothly. "It was an honour to be invited. I wasn't sure that I'd see you here…I thought you might be preparing for the birth of your little one."
Elizabeth grinned once more. "Ohh, I wouldn't miss Papa's Christmas party for the world! Will and I have just been discussing names, you know. I like Jane and Susan for a girl. He wants to name it William…but that's such a boring name, don't you think? I like Jeffrey. Or possibly Patrick."
"What about Steve?" Norrington wondered, with a small smile.
The young woman wrinkled her nose. "Steve? Oh…that's awful. William would be better."
He shook his head. "Of course."
A long moment passed in silence, as the two ran out of things to say to each-other. Fortunately, Norrington quickly came up with a distraction. "I say, Elizabeth," he murmured, his eyes falling on the figure of the new Mrs. Swann cooing up at Mr. Turner, "What do you suppose Mrs. Swann is going on about?"
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, Commodore," she said, rather politely, before stomping across the room, returning to her husband's side, rather jealously. That woman had always had a bit of a thing for the handsome young blacksmith, after all, or at least she appeared to.
Norrington watched the goings-on with a smile on his face, glad they were going-on far away from him. The former chamber-maid did seem rather flirtatious…until her husband joined their conversation, and it was quite clear where her affections truly were oriented. It was odd, but then…well, Commodore Norrington was hardly one to judge odd relationships, was he?
Hearing someone softly clearing their throat behind him, the commodore turned around, wondering who it was that was pestering him now. The icy gaze he adopted softened when he turned his eyes on the young maidservant – Estrella's replacement, in fact.
"I beg your pardon, sir," Sally-Ann murmured, "But I was wondering if you'd like some cider? Apple cider? It's very good, sir. Very…apple-y?" She offered him a goblet, her eyes wide and hopeful.
Because he didn't want to hurt her feelings, he accepted, reaching out to take the goblet of cider. Unfortunately, the maid let go too fast…and so the glass slipped, about to fall to the floor. The commodore made a grab for it; he managed to keep it from falling…unfortunately, however, the entire contents of the glass ended up sloshing and spilling all over the unlucky servant.
"Oh, dear," Norrington said, blushing profusely. "I'm so sorry, I…here, let me help you…" He extracted his handkerchief from his pocket, offered it to the girl.
"You're very kind, sir," she whispered, looking up at him, starry-eyed.
At the girl's look of admiration, he flinched. "Yes. Well. Carry on," he told her, a bit icily, and quickly left the scene of the crime. The last thing he needed was the hopeless infatuation of a servant twice his age. Such things may have worked out for Governor Swann, but…would have ended up being nothing but a mess for him. He sought out his host, with the hopeful thought that maybe he'd be able to slip out of the party soon, and find his Lieutenant…where was Gillette?
The Governor was sitting in front of his fireplace, his wife at his side, the little puppy she'd received from her husband as an early Christmas gift sleeping placidly in her lap. "Ah! James! Are you enjoying the party? I'm so glad you could join us this year."
"I am sir. It was an honour to be invited," he told the governor, lying smoothly, just as he'd done to Elizabeth.
"We're always glad to have you, James. You're like family…even though you didn't marry Elizabeth and become actual family…you're as good as."
Norrington smiled at that, quite unexpectedly touched. "Thank you, sir."
"You're quite welcome. Happy Christmas!"
"Happy Christmas, Weatherby." Norrington smiled back at his host, before turning away, disappearing in the crowds once more. He was almost at the door, and then…
"Leaving so soon? I just got here."
He turned his head, and grinned when he saw the speaker. "I didn't think you were coming!"
"I got held up…some of us had to work today." Lieutenant Armand Gillette snorted, then smirked, reached out and took Norrington's hand, began threading his way through the crowds. "And I was trying to think of what to get you for Christmas, and then…" he stopped, in a doorway. "I thought of it."
"What is it?"
"Look up."
Norrington obeyed, and then smiled, softly. "Mistletoe?" He made a surreptitious glance around the room, hoping no one was watching.
"Mmm-hmm."
And so he did what was proper, reached out and kissed the other man, softly, quickly…hoping no one would notice.
"Mm. That was delightful." Gillette grinned. "That's only the start, you know. To your Christmas present."
"How thrilling." A pause, and then, "Didn't we have a rule…about public displays of affection?"
"I think you just broke it, sir."
