Fifteen-year-old Armand Gillette had by now grown so red that his companions feared his head would implode. During a long stretch in between watches, all of the mids crowded beneath the decks to escape the thunderstorm that had started earlier that afternoon. Being a group of boys, talk had turned inevitably from naval concerns to something a bit more lewd. They were talking about sex. Not just in the casual 'even our parents must have done it at least once' way, but in a manner that was personal. They were exchanging stories. About them having sex. Armand was sure by now that there was probably not a God who cared a bit about him.
Because you see, it was his turn. And there was a slight problem; he was a virgin. Normally he was not a blushing maiden-type but this interrogation made him want to crawl into a hole and die. Dirty jokes, he could crack those with the best of them; innuendos were his special forte. But actual personal account was not his strongest point.
Sure he could always lie; he was rather accomplished at that. But that only worked with his younger and more inexperienced brothers. He could no longer get away with using his catchphrase "when you're my age, you'll understand," because in addition to the, well, life experience the other mids had over him, he was also the youngest by close to two years.
Jamie, non-existent God bless him, seemed to sense Armand's discomfort and thankfully turned the talks to Theo. It was Theodore Groves who had provided the most interesting and detailed accounts so far. It was however his turn to be embarrassed as he prepared to ask a question.
"Have any of you lads, you know, tried the other way?"
A few looked sheepish while others looked disgusted. One in particular uttered a rather nasty epithet under his breath. Theo glared at MacMullen, a boorish sort of character who was a bit too old to still be a midshipman.
"Oh stuff it, it's not that bad."
He had everyone's full attention now.
"You mean you've..."
"Sure. The stable boy at home was most informative."
MacMullen snorted in disgust.
"What of it Angus? It's not like you haven't had your fair share of that sort of thing."
Gillette's eyes widened. Angus MacMullen! But with whom? That question was soon answered in a rough voice.
"You leave Tom outta this Groves, or so help me God I'll rip your gossiping tongue outta yer thick scull."
Tom! Certainly not Tom Davys, Angus' best friend among the middies, but who else could it be? But he had been dead for close to a year after a strange and sudden fever.
"What about you Frenchy?"
Ah. That would be him.
"I don't appreciate that particular name, thank you Joseph."
Joseph Murphy was on the receiving end of glares from both Jamie and Theo.
Hopefully, that would be the end of it. Angus would say something dirty again and they could all go back to hating him while feeling sorry for him.
"Well then Midshipman Armand Renault Gillette, would you be so kind as to answer the question of have you ever been some man's whore."
"No."
"No you won't answer or no you haven't."
"No I haven't, now if you'll excuse me-"
Both Jamie and Theo had pulled him back down.
"Stay a bit Armand, he didn't mean anything by it. Besides, this is getting interesting. Have you even been with a woman at least?"
The moment that he would lose any respect his sharp mind and even sharper tongue had earned him was fast approaching.
"No."
No one said anything for a moment. Then Angus started laughing, a deep guffaw that prompted nervous giggles from nearly everyone in the room except for Jamie and Theo. Instead they exchanged a look before turning their identical owlish stares on him.
"Mate, we've got to get you a piece of wench next port."
Trust Angus to not be able to rest until this was 'put right'.
"Why, pray tell?"
"Because, better it be with some pretty lass in a real bedroom than a dirty sailor next to the canons."
"What are you suggesting MacMullen?"
Now it was Jamie's turn to be deadly serious.
"Only that, if this gets out, the less scrupulous sailors will be lining up to deflower our favorite Frenchman."
It was rather astonishing to see James Norrington, known affectionately to his friends as Jamie punch Angus McMullen so hard that his head snapped back.
"What the bloody hell?" Angus lunged but was held back by Joe.
"Don't. Ever. Suggest. Something. Like. That. EVER."
James nearly bellowed the last word as he stormed up on deck. Armand moved to go after him, but was held back a second time by Theo.
"Let him be." He whispered close to Armand's ear. "I'll tell you later."
Night watch was generally given to the youngest and greenest of midshipmen aboard the HMS Lion. So it wasn't very surprising that 1 AM found Armand and Theo on deck watching the now calm sea. Armand could barely contain his impatience. He hadn't seen Jamie for hours, but Theo had assured him that their friend was all right. But that did little to soothe Armand's mind.
"Theo, are you going to tell me, or make me die of curiosity?"
Groves looked around and, noting that there was no one nearby, began to whisper quickly.
"Do you remember Lt. Burnes?"
"Yes."
"Well, he had a nasty temper and well, James served under him more often than not. He also had a taste for the lads. And didn't take no as an acceptable answer."
Armand held up a hand to stop the story. He could fill in the blanks. But James? Lighthearted, noble, beautiful-inside-and-out Jamie? He began to shake with rage.
"Did they catch him?"
"Not for that, but he was dismissed for unnecessary violence towards his seconds. You know those scares on Jamie's back? They don't take kindly to an Admiral's nephew being whipped by a second lieutenant."
"That bastard."
"I know."
"Jamie told you all this?"
Theo closed his eyes in a grimace.
"No. I walked in on it once. He swore me to never tell anyone."
"Do you know where he is?"
Theo sighed, clearly uncomfortable at even letting his best friend in on what appeared to be a close confidence.
"The infirmary. Dr. Adams was the one who finally told. He figured it out. Jamie goes there to talk with him."
The bell rang signaling the end of their watch.
"Perfect timing." Armand muttered to himself in French as he walked into the direction of the infirmary.
Sure enough, James sat on one of the empty hammocks, deep in conversation with Dr. Adams. The doctor seemed to sense that Gillette was there however, and he turned towards the door.
"Mr. Gillette! How may I help you?"
"I was just looking for Jamie, sir."
Norrington looked faintly surprised. He smiled at his younger friend before nodding at the doctor on his way out.
The two huddled in a forgotten corner of the ship, leaning against the barrels of apples stored away.
"You wanted to talk Armand?"
"Yes." God this was hard. Armand stumbled a bit before continuing. "I know."
Jamie made a face that was in between a smile and a grimace.
"I figured Theo would crack and tell you."
"James, I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"I just wish I could have done something to help you."
"Thank you Armand, that means the world to me. Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"Of course not."
"Why are you saving yourself? It does seem rather noble."
"I always," he blushed in the dark cabin, "wanted to save it for someone special."
James smiled grimly.
"I wish I had been able to."
Armand suddenly found himself kissing James Norrington. On the lips. With the slight suggestion of tongues. Jamie pulled away first, a true smile gracing his face.
"So you French really do kiss like that."
Armand laughed a strained, slightly unbalanced laugh.
"I guess we do. Jamie, if it's alright with you, I would very much like to do that again."
James gave him a chaste peck on the mouth.
"I fear I wouldn't be able to stop myself. And you deserve better than a quick tumble on the deck, however much we both want it."
With that, he was gone.
It would be years later, after all of the unpleasantness with Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, and Elizabeth Swann was over, that Armand Gillette, now First Lieutenant of the HMS Dauntless, finally worked up the nerve to approach Commodore James L. Norrington in such a manner again.