A/N: This is my first Temeraire fic completely without Temeraire. Also my first with Tharkay as a main character. I must admit I used to despise the guy, but slowly I'm growing fond of him. He's still far from being one of my favourites characters (those are Laurence, Temeraire, Granby, Iskierka and Emily), but at least I do not despise him anymore. *shrug*

The plot bunny of this story bit me when I was thinking what I would like to see in book six or seven. And well… what happens here is something I would love to see in a future book. :)

Disclaimer: all Novik's.

As usual, thanks to my friend Michael for the beta!

Caught in the Act

Covert of Sydney, 7th November, 1811

It was not often that Tharkay allowed himself mundane joys such as a stroll across the covert grounds, but today, after having listened to Iskierka's endless complaints about Temeraire not being willing to mate with her, he felt he badly needed some time to be alone and enjoy the early evening's peace and calm. The only companion he would not have minded was his kestrel, but the bird of prey was away, very likely hunting.

Being November, spring in the southern hemisphere, the days were growing ever longer, thus shortly before dinnertime sunshine was still merrily filtering across the foliage, the elongated shadows of the trees looking like hundreds of dark green stripes painted on the grass.

The Sydney covert was huge but its population small – about thirty aviators and only four dragons – therefore the current peace and calm was not unusual here, provided that you put enough space between yourself and Iskierka.

Tharkay was just about to cross the lengthy row of bushes at a spot where their branches allowed for a fairly easy passage, when he was forced to stop in his tracks. The sight that greeted him beyond the shrubbery made him feel both warm and cold at the same time: in the small clearing there were two people standing pressed up to each other, arms entangled, lips plastered to one another's.

Oh, young love, Tharkay found himself suppressing a sigh, annoyed that he still managed to turn sentimental after all these years... He had thought he had long overcome such feelings, the longing, the vulnerability… the feeling of being an ordinary, flesh and blood man. Yet now as he was watching these young people, his coolness gave way to emotion and he could not help but remember the first and only time he had kissed Sara Maden. It had been spring, just like now, and her lips on his had been so soft, the kiss itself so chaste… much, much more chaste than the one he was currently witnessing.

First he tried to think of something sarcastic to fight down any emotions – sarcasm being one of his great talents – but nothing came to his mind; then he tried to avert his eyes, but could not help it – the lovebirds were such a pleasant sight to look at… at least until he looked closer. After a minute of keen observation it became obvious to him that something was wrong with these two. The girl did not seem to be enjoying herself; she clung to her partner, but only in a way that suggested she could not think of anything else to do. As seconds ticked by, she seemed less and less enthusiastic about the whole experience, her hands no longer roving on the boy's back, her lips no longer moving, as if she only endured what was happening to her, but was herself no active participant. She looked more like a victim, the victim of an inexperienced youth whose clumsy advances she could by no means take pleasure in.

Tharkay made a grimace – at least Sara had seemed to enjoy their kiss all along. Then again, he had not been a green seventeen-year-old boy when that kiss had taken place.

Some more seconds passed, and the girl's impassiveness began to turn into self-defence – she seemed like she was close to pushing her partner away. Tharkay secretly began rooting for her to gather enough courage and do just that, but time went on and still nothing happened – probably she had decided to give the boy another chance to prove to her that he could kiss her in a way that was at least remotely enjoyable.

But her hopes seemed to be dashed – the youth was undoubtedly the clumsiest buffoon Tharkay had ever seen – instead of gently caressing her lips with his, he was biting at her lips like some hungry dog, something that cannot have been pleasant for her at all. And yet she bore it heroically, and Tharkay was sure that the reason why she had not pushed him away yet was not that she did not have the courage. It was rather that she was testing her own endurance and hoping that perhaps the next moment, or the moment after the next, she would start to feel that wondrous thing she was supposed to feel.

She was a martyr, no doubt. If Tharkay had been a girl and had had a partner as hopeless as this one, the boy would already be rolling on the grass, clutching at his crotch and howling. But perhaps the girl thought this boy – whom, despite his clumsiness, Tharkay knew to be a kind-hearted person overall – did not deserve to be mistreated like that… that he deserved a second chance, perhaps even a third. But only God knew how many chances this unfortunate youth had used in the past few minutes – Tharkay would have bet it must have been at least a hundred.

Just when Tharkay decided he had had enough of watching the girl's misery and the boy's futile attempts at rekindling her fire – or kindling it at all, as he was not sure it had burned for a second in the first place – the cracking of twigs indicated that someone was approaching.

"Roland! Allen! What does this mean?" Laurence's harsh voice tore at the air, making the couple jump apart and stare at their captain with flustered faces.

"Sir… this is not… what it seems to be…" the boy stammered, only to be silenced with a wave of Laurence's hand.

"I shall discuss this with you later, Mr. Allen," the captain said firmly, then turned to the girl who, despite having been exposed to the advances of the Worst Kisser Ever, seemed much less shaken than the boy did. "Roland, a word, if you please."

Behind the bushes, Tharkay felt his lips tuck into an involuntary grin. He was normally not one to eavesdrop on matters of personal nature, but he had always been very good at stealth, and even if with some pangs of remorse, he decided to put his spying skills to use and listen in on the rest of the conversation. He was not particularly interested in what Laurence had to say to Allen, but what he had to say to Roland – and especially what Roland had to say in return – was a wholly different matter. Tharkay still vividly remembered Emily's cheeky answer to being forbidden to bathe with the others in the ferals' cave, and he would have loved to see Laurence embarrassed by a teenage girl's outspokenness once again. He could not help it – he found the embarrassed Laurence one of the most entertaining things in the world.

The captain beckoned to his midwingman – midwingwoman – to follow him, and Emily did so without a word. They put at least thirty yards between themselves and the still madly blushing Allen before they came to a halt. Since they had moved alongside the row of bushes, all Tharkay had to do was follow them on the other side of the shrubbery.

"So," Laurence finally rounded on the girl, folding his hands behind his back and trying to glower down at her, which did not seem to intimidate her in the least. Her initial flush had completely disappeared and she gave him a stoical, dispassionate look.

"So what, Sir?" she too folded her hands behind her back, her stance as defiant as Tharkay had ever seen from a sixteen-year-old girl.

"So what?" Laurence snapped. "Heavens, Roland! I have just caught you with a boy, and you are asking me 'so what'?"

"Yes, Sir," Emily nodded. "I seriously do not understand why you are so upset. Have I done something wrong?"

Laurence looked upwards with a helpless expression, as if hoping to receive assistance from above. "Christ… of course you have! It is not suitable, anyone could have seen you, Emily!"

"I thought bathing together with boys was not suitable, but what is wrong with a little kissing?" she arched an eyebrow at him. "We did it fully dressed!"

Laurence nervously ran a hand across his locks. "Of course, but a 'little kissing' might lead to… to things that young people do… not fully dressed!"

"Oh, please, Sir, call things by their name," Emily said with a hint of amusement in her voice. "You are afraid we were going to go to bed."

Behind the bushes, Tharkay bit into his lower lip to suppress an urge to laugh. This little girl did not disappoint him – she was as outspoken as ever. He peered through the leaves and saw that for a moment Laurence stiffened, then his shoulders sagged and he let out a resigned sigh. "Yes, Emily. And that is why I wanted to talk to you first, not to him. He is a boy of seventeen, and I know what every seventeen-year-old boy wants… therefore it is you who need to be the clever one here! It is you who have to be circumspect because you cannot expect him to be that!"

"I am circumspect, Sir," Emily replied.

"You did not look like you were," Laurence shook his head with a frown. "You are playing a dangerous game, Emily… And I hope I need not explain why it is dangerous… why it is wrong."

"Well, actually, I would not mind if you explained," Emily shrugged, "because I do not see anything wrong with it, apart from the fact that I don't like Allen in that way at all."

"For one, you are only sixteen," Laurence began vehemently, then suddenly stopped as though something she had said had only just sunk in. "Wait, you said you did not like him that way?"

"That's correct, Sir," she nodded. "I do not. But if I did, I would not hesitate to go to bed with him. And sixteen isn't that young anyway. Why, several girls of my age are married already!"

"With their parents' consent, yes," Laurence replied in a low voice, "but you are not likely to get your mother's permission to get married any time soon…"

"Not that I would want to get married," she carried on casually, "marriage is for the ordinary girls, and I am a Roland. Rolands only have sex and babies but they don't get married..."

Judging by the way Laurence's hands balled into fists and the muscles in his jaw flexed suggesting he was silently gnashing his teeth in agony, Tharkay once again had to stifle a laugh. Little Miss Roland knew exactly how to torment her captain…

"…unless they find someone really, really deserving of their hand," Emily added as an afterthought, her eyes boring deeply into Laurence's.

The man was practically sweating; sweat-drops glistening on his temples were quite visible to Tharkay even through the hundreds of little leaves separating them.

"It is exactly that, Emily," the captain said, his voice suddenly much quieter than earlier, almost insecure. "I know your mother's views of the world, even her views on relationships, but I hardly think she would be happy if I were forced to write to her and announce that you have made her a grandmother."

"But I am not making her a grandmother, haven't I been clear on that, Sir?" Emily asked, her arms akimbo, giving the impression that it was her interrogating her captain, not the other way around. "I am not attracted to Allen! Not in the least!"

Tharkay seriously hoped that these two had put enough distance between themselves and young Lieutenant Allen, or the boy must be feeling wretched now. For the time being Tharkay could not decide whom to feel sorrier for: Allen or Laurence?

"Then… why…?" Laurence stammered.

"You mean, why have I been kissing with him?" Emily helped him out. "Curiosity," she added with a shrug. "I've never done it before and he came in handy, so I asked him to try it with me. Do not worry, Sir," she made a grimace, "I don't intend to try it again. He's been practically eating my face, and it was all so slobbery as though I had been doing it with a bulldog. I only let him do it because I was hoping it would be getting better with practice, but it did not. Besides, I took pity on him. He has always been so clumsy in everything, I did not want to add another one to his failures list, so I did not push him away, though I wanted to. God, you have no idea how much I wanted to! So," she kicked a pebble, looking slightly uneasy all of a sudden, "it's damn lucky that you have interrupted it, Sir. You're a lifesaver." She sent him a grateful little smile.

Laurence heaved a sigh, and Tharkay was sure it was not a sigh of resignation this time, but a sigh of relief. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, Emily," Laurence said. "You have given me quite a fright."

"A fright, Sir?" she chuckled. "Was it really so frightening to see me with a boy?"

Laurence blushed a bit. "I think… it is frightening to see how quickly you are growing up. I remember you and your friends calling to me from a window at Loch Laggan… it seems just yesterday that you were so small and boyish… and now you are almost fully grown and boys are noticing how pretty you are... it is hard for me to accept."

Emily crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look. "You are talking like a father, Sir."

Laurence's flush deepened and he looked away – exactly in the direction where Tharkay was hiding behind the bush, but the captain's eyes were so distant and dreamy that Tharkay knew he was in no danger of being discovered: Laurence was looking but not seeing, his mind was obviously on something else. And Tharkay had a strong suspicion that the something Laurence's mind was on was definitely not being a father figure to Emily.

"You really think I'm pretty?" Emily asked all of a sudden, making her captain look back at her with a horror-stricken face.

Oops. Someone has let something slip, Tharkay commented in himself. There was no denying it: he was thoroughly enjoying the situation.

"Well… of course, everyone thinks you are pretty," Laurence muttered, rather to his boots than to Emily. "I expect Mr. Allen must have found you pretty too…"

Good excuse, Tharkay smirked, but you will have to find a better one to outwit a Roland.

"I do not care for Allen's opinion, Sir," Emily insisted. "I asked about yours. Well?"

Laurence was forced to look up from his boots and meet her eyes. For a second he looked just as clumsy and green as Allen had a few minutes earlier, and Tharkay could not help but find that quality adorable in his friend. He had no doubt that if he were a woman, that lost-puppy look of Laurence's would melt his heart, as it obviously melted Emily's. She took a step towards her captain, the challenging expression on her face turning into something softer, something that suggested she was a woman first and only a Roland second. Tharkay was quite sure that Jane Roland would be scandalised to learn about her daughter's priorities, but Emily was her own person, and just as strong-willed and independent as her mother, only in a different fashion.

"It's okay, Sir. You do not need to answer. I know I'm just a little girl in your eyes," Emily said in a slightly sad tone, "but as you have mentioned it yourself, I am growing up fast. And you have to accept the fact that you cannot be the guardian of my honour for ever, not even if you think – mistakenly – that you have the duty and the authority to be just that. Whether you like it or not, sooner or later I am going to bed someone – if in a month or a year or five years, time will tell… and I will decide. But at least you can be sure that someone won't be Allen," she gave him a playful grin. "Next time I try anything intimate, even if just kissing, it will be with someone… experienced."

Tharkay saw Laurence's Adam's apple run up and down as he swallowed hard in the crossfire of Emily's eyes. He had to give it to her: for a sixteen-year-old she could cast extremely glowing glances, and he could not blame Laurence for sweating: any healthy male in his place would be equally struggling against their instincts.

"Ahem… well, that is reassuring," Laurence cleared his throat and slightly loosened his neckcloth. "Naturally I would be happiest if you did not do anything of the sort at all, but… if you must… then someone experienced would surely be a better choice…" he once again began talking to his boots, "as an experienced man knows better how to be… careful."

"Oh, he need not know that," Emily waved dismissively, "I know that myself. Mother has taught me all the tricks to avoid getting in trouble… so all I need in an experienced man is his knowledge of how to please me." She took another step towards Laurence, making him take a step backwards. "And I think I know just the right person with excellent references from the highest places."

"References from the highest places?" Laurence choked.

Emily nodded, her face solemn, but mischief glinting in her eyes. "From the Admiralty."

Laurence's face turned redder than the sun just about to dive behind the trees, and to Tharkay's utter delight he took several more steps backwards, looking like someone backing away from a dragon about to pounce. A downright dangerous female dragon.

Tharkay finally managed to decide who was more deserving of his pity of the two males involved, and it was definitely not the clumsy youth standing at a respectful distance.

Eventually Laurence was saved by the ring of a bell coming from the barracks.

"Miss Roland… I believe… it is time for dinner," he mumbled, and straightening his back, strode away as quick a he could, towards a rather pale Lieutenant Allen. The boy flinched at the captain's approach, clearly awaiting a dressing down or at least a serious 'man to man discussion' that never came.

Allen exhaled as Laurence walked past him without a word.

"Emily, what happened? What did the captain say…?" the boy asked vaguely as she too hurried in his direction, but Emily too walked past him without giving him a second glance, quickly catching up with Laurence.

From Tharkay's secret place behind the bushes the silhouettes of captain and midwingman walking towards the barracks buildings and towards the setting sun looked almost comical – they were not walking next to each other but keeping a proper distance, yet Tharkay could not help but imagine those two dark figures melding into one with the sunset as a dreamy backdrop.

I am getting soft with old age, he told himself, and with a self-critical shake of the head, climbed through the bushes, stirring Allen out of his reverie.

"You had better stop ogling sunsets, kid," he said, "also little girls walking into sunsets. Especially because that girl," he slapped the boy on the shoulder in a would-be friendly way, "will never be yours."

FINIS

A/N: be so kind and leave a review. :)