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Lieutenant Andrew Gillette was working studiously at his desk in his office when suddenly he was shaken out of his focus by a series of loud knocks on his door.

"Come in!" he called, slightly annoyed at being bothered while he was trying to work.

The door slowly opened and in stumbled Commodore James Norrington. His wig was askew; his shirt un-tucked from his breeches, and his hat was missing entirely. He was obviously drunk. The Lieutenant, startled by Norrington's appearance, jumped to his feet and quickly took his commanding officer's arm and led him to a chair.

"Sir, what happened?" he asked, sounding just as concerned as he was.

"Well, you said I could talk to you anytime," the Commodore slurred, referring to the conversation that had taken place earlier that afternoon at his house.

"Yes sir, I did. Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, sounding slightly nervous now.

"Andy," Norrington said in a singsong voice. "Andy-wandy."

"Erm… yes?" his nervousness had now turned to fright as the Commodore leaned toward him.

"Andy, have I ever told you how glorious your hair looks by candle light? You can see all the gold highlights in the coppery parts."

"No, you haven't told me that before Commodore." The Commodore leered at him and got out of his chair, heading for where the Lieutenant stood, just behind his desk.

"Uh… Commodore, sir, would you like me to escort you back home?" he asked.

"No. Can't walk that far," the Commodore mumbled.

"Well, I have a bed in the back room of my office for when I stay late working. You could sleep there if you wanted," he offered. The man needed to sleep off the alcohol before he did any more damage.

"That would be… nice."

"Ah, here, I'll help you," Gillette said, taking the Commodore's arm and leading him through the door behind his desk and into the back room. He was helping him over to the bed when the Commodore suddenly fell and pushed Gillette onto the bed underneath him. Poor Gillette was now pinned to the bed by his drunken commander and as he was the lighter of the two men, there wasn't a thing he could do.

"Sir, this position is entirely inappropriate," Gillette said, trying to reason with the Commodore. It wasn't that he didn't want to be pinned to a bed under James Norrington, because God and his best friend Lieutenant Theodore "Teddy" Groves knew he did. It was just that he wanted to be pinned to a bed by a sober Norrington, not a drunken one.

The Commodore had now stretched himself out over Gillette and was resting his chin on his hands, which were in turn resting one over the other on Gillette's chest. He was staring with his sparkling green eyes straight into Gillette's dark ones. The funny thing was though; Norrington didn't smell remotely like alcohol.

His eyes flicked to the Lieutenant's soft lips and straight back to his eyes. A sly smirk appeared on his mouth, and he re-positioned himself so that his face was directly over Gillette's. He hovered there for a moment, before lowering himself the rest of the way and touching his lips to Gillette's. He deepened the kiss, and as Gillette's mouth opened under his, the Lieutenant gasped. Shocked, Norrington broke the kiss and drew back.

"What is it?" he asked sounding genuinely concerned.

"You – you're not drunk," the Lieutenant stammered.

"Well of course I'm not drunk."

"Why?" it was all Gillette could ask.

"I had no reason to drink. I'm quite happy."

"But… what about Elizabeth?" The Lieutenant asked sounding genuinely confused.

"What about her?"

"You're in love with her… you just had you heart broken,"

"No. I was never in love with Elizabeth. I had known her since she was 12. It was frighteningly Oedipus like. But I am in love, and I did have my heart broken, but it wasn't this morning that I had my heart broken."

"When?"

"I had my heart broken when I was pushed into proposing by Governor Swann."

"Who? Who is it?" Gillette asked, ready to accept the very worst. It was odd really, that he hadn't gotten it yet. It was so obvious, but he was in shock and denial.

"Don't tell me you still don't know, Andrew," Norrington said, as he ran one of his hands through Gillette's smoldering copper locks.

"Is it… someone who works for the Governor?" the Lieutenant asked dumbly. Norrington rolled his eyes before he stroked Gillette's cheek and brushed his thumb over his pouting bottom lip. Gillette had been in love with Norrington for such a long time that he had convinced himself that the Commodore would never, ever feel the same way about him.

The Commodore looked down at him with a sad smile and his heart reflected in his eyes, just waiting to give it all to Gillette.

"Andrew," he said softly. "I'm in love, with you."

Dumbstruck, the Lieutenant's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

Norrington smiled at the sweet look on his love's face, and then lowered his body to kiss him again. Halfway through their kiss, Gillette broke away, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

"How did you know?"

"You don't honestly think that you're the only person who confides in Teddy… do you?" he asked with a grin.

Andrew brought his head back down and recaptured James' lips. As they kissed, Andrew weaseled a hand into James' already un-tucked shirt and ran his fingers lightly up and down the other man's spine, causing him to moan and arch into him.

The next morning when he woke up, Andrew found himself still pinned under a sleeping James who was beautiful when he slept and looked younger. He was also drooling all over Andrew's bare chest, but even so, he couldn't have woken up happier.

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This could be considered a sequel to "Broken" but if you just want to think of it as an entirely separate fic, that's fine too.

Blame my new fascination with Gillette/Norrington fics on L.M. Griffin's "Rant" because that's what got me started.

Please review. Anything, including flames, is graciously accepted.