Cheap, Paperback Romance Novel
Theodore Groves knocked on Andrew Gillette's office door, waiting for a moment.
He was surprised when there was no answer. Andrew hardly ever left his office while on duty, unless he was out with James, in which case Theodore was nearly always with them, also being a Lieutenant.
He knocked again, thinking perhaps Andrew merely had not heard, too engrossed in his work. He hoped he hadn't fallen asleep at his desk, again. Though it was rather amusing when he awoke, the stray piece of parchment stuck to his cheek. His friend was too engrossed in his duties for his own good, even when he was supposed to be off duty…
There was still no answer. He tried the handle. The door opened easily, swinging inward. He peered inside, "Andrew?" He called.
The office was empty.
Theodore stepped inside. Perhaps the paper he needed was on top of one of the many immaculate piles. He shut the door behind him and started to rifle through, trying to keep them at least somewhat neat.
No… No… He sighed, shaking his head. He pulled out a piece. No. He set it down again. He sat down in the chair behind the desk, trying to think of where Andrew would have put such a sheet…
He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing. In the middle of one of the stacks was a bit of stray parchment, a corner sticking out farther from the others, deviating from the strict organization. He leaned forward and slowly pulled it out, as to not disturb the rest of the pile.
It was a different color, and even thickness, than the others, and had been folded into quadrants.
What is this? He thought, unfolding it. He recognized Andrew's handwriting immediately, though the first word told him immediately this was nothing remotely to do with the King's Royal Navy…
Curiosity killed the cat. That was what everyone told him. But it had never stopped him before, and he wasn't about to let it, now.
Andrew looked deeply into James's deep, rich green eyes. There was nothing that could stand between them, now. The articles, the law, the scriptures, they meant nothing. In each other's arms, nothing else mattered. He turned suddenly and swept James into his strong arms, tenderly stroking his silky, brown hair.
Theodore's dark eyebrows raised.
"Mon chéri… James." Andrew murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips, for only a moment.
James gazed at him. His eyes slowly drank in every feature of his face, as though he had never seen him before, even though they had known each other for so many years, now. It was as though he was afraid of never seeing his love, again.
"Oh, good Lord, Andrew…" Theodore's face crumpled, "I know you can write better than this…" He had read bits and pieces of Andrew's other writings before, over the years they had been friends. Even the earliest were not nearly as bad as this.
Andrew smiled as he recalled how James's emerald eyes always darkened, flashing like lightening when he was angry, but how they always melted into the shy, loving color of the sea after the clearing of a storm, when he looked at him.
Andrew was writing badly on purpose.
Theodore grinned, I knew there you had a wild streak in you, even though you never let it show…
Their gaze held together, eyes in line with one another.
Theodore snorted. "You're at least two inches shorter than him and you know it, Andrew."
"Oh… Andrew…" James breathed, breath hot against Andrew's lips. "Andrew I love you… I will be yours, and yours alone…" He threaded his fingers through his thick, fiery red hair.
"Forever." He finished. He spun James around, pushing him hard into the back of the office door, hastily closed and latched in the middle of the day.
"Never thought James to be the type be randy on duty." Theodore smirked. He turned the thin page.
Coats and shirts fell forgotten to the ground, breeches were tugged down and kicked aside, along with their shoes.
"You and James… Somehow, I never thought of it, before. Though, it was always right in front of me. I wonder how long it took you two to notice, yourselves." Theodore murmured quietly.
They kissed feverishly, hot flushes rising against pale, smooth skin, as hands roamed and tongues battled.
"Andrew…"The scene ended suddenly, as though the author had been interrupted. Theodore had to admit, he was more than a little disappointed.
He slowly drew his tongue across his bottom lip. He folded the pages back in their original order and carefully pushed them back into the stack where he had found them.
He smiled. He was glad they had found happiness, in each other. They were both hopelessly married to their work, and lonely, he knew. At least, they used to be. There would, undoubtedly, be more where that came from, both on the page and in the flesh.
He stood, straightening his uniform, and walked out of Andrew's office, down the hallway towards his own.
At the end of the hall, he spotted two figures talking, their tones hushed. He grinned, recognizing them immediately.
"The Interceptor is under repair at the moment, but She should be ready by the end of a fortnight." Andrew Gillette said.
"Good. Excellent work, Andrew." James Norrington nodded, giving a small, rare smile.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Theodore smiled at them. He winked as he passed.
James opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He closed it again. He looked to Andrew, green eyes silently asking.
Andrew shrugged. "I haven't the slightest clue, either."
"Well, that's Theodore for you, I suppose."
Andrew smiled, "Indeed…" He nodded, slowly, wondering what Theodore had gotten up to…
The End
Author's Note:
CrimsonShinigami's Plotbunnies
65. Someone finds a novella written about him on sheets of thin parchment. It involved him being slung into a fantasy with the writer. Who is, and what does he do about it?
I cheated, though- Theo found it, but it was written about James, by Andrew. :P