A/N: In response to the amount of time Mike and Charge are left alone on the Bridge together in season three.
"You hear the about the football last night sir?"
"Cowboys?"
"Yep. Had a shocker"
"Hmmm…"
"Call the crew in now?"
"…"
"…"
"Why not…"
---
It took Mike a while to realise that as time passed, he was increasingly stuck on the bridge alone with Charge.
The crew went swimming - it was those two stuck behind glass watching the others splash amongst the swell. RHIBS went out - he held the binoculars whilst his friend kept him updated on progress.
He wasn't complaining, really. There had been many a time when he and Charge had gone fishing or played cards. They'd even ended up at the movies once together, though that had been by accident and ignored by both parties.
Above all, however, he considered Charge a good friend, not just a good work mate.
It was for this reason, and the numerous fishing trips they'd planned to go on, that he was stuck wondering why it was so hard to find something to discuss when they were alone on the bridge together.
Sure they'd thrown a few lines into the ocean before, and caught a movie, but there'd always been something to do then, something to occupy their minds from the thought of actual conversation.
This, he reasoned, was why men stuck so closely to their female counterparts during conversation. Sometimes, without women, there was very little for men to discuss.
Apart from when they discussed women of course.
---
"So"
"Hmm?"
"You seeing any one at the moment sir?"
"…"
---
Maybe that was the problem. Buffer and 2dads and Spider and even Robert, occasionally, could branch to the topic of women when all else failed.
But between the captain of the ship whose substantial relationships over the past ten years consisted of a doctor who'd almost wiped out (by accident) half of Cairn's tourist population, a French Naval officer who was to pushy with her hips whilst dancing, a few women in port who he'd forgotten to call (again, by accident) after he was back on Hammersley and his current executive officer.
Really, he considered, there was nothing to talk about, at least on topics that wouldn't jeopardise his career.
---
"Really sir, another graunch boarding?"
"What else could I do?"
"…really?"
"…"
"You do know one of these days something like this is going to come back to bite you in the bum"
"But not today Charge, not today"
"I'm just saying"
"Well, don't"
"... all right"
"Trust me Charge, it won't be the graunch boarding's that get me in trouble"
"Sir?"
---
He had a good head on his shoulders, Charge that was. Sometimes Mike was glad to have the experience of the slightly older man on board even if he was the captain.
They saw eye-to-eye on most aspects of the Navy and safe Patrol Boat procedure. Like when Spider saw fit to play hide and seek with the French and their flag, or when Buffer nose-dived it towards a mine. When RO worried himself sick over the complications of his job and Charge merely rolled his eyes and took the call.
Simple, safe and occasionally unorthodox - relaxed the two of them were.
There were times however when he could feel Charge's gaze boring through the back of his cap, no doubt wondering where the hell the young cowboy had found the audacity, or the balls, to make such a call. It was times like this that made Mike's skin crawl, because as much as he felt completely in control and at all times a cool, calm and collected captain, he still secretly sought the praise of someone a little older, a little more experienced.
---
"Impressive work Captain Flynn"
"Thanks"
"You been working hard on the move?"
"Only all summer"
"I see"
"Hmmm…"
"Well it was very impressive. Reckon you can follow it up?"
"Oh I'm sure I can"
"Really?"
"Hmmmm"
"Go Fish then"
---
It was sad, really, that they'd resorted to card games (Though he was secretly impressed to find the cards had colourful, little cartoon fish instead of suits)
Maybe next time he should try steering the conversation towards actual fish. Like the ones he'd caught off the rocks last week when the crew were getting drunk down the pub and his brain had been hammering away to escape the metal and the noise and paperwork and general frazzlement that was associated with running Hammersley.
He loved his ship, dearly, and his crew like they were family. But like all family they had the tendency to grate, and it was on days like that that all he could do was escape to the rocks and pray that the fishing gods would be kind.
He'd never been to the rocks with Charge, he mused, they'd always taken a tinny out to the heads. Perhaps there lay a point for discussion, the merits of both locations.
Surely the two could rattle on about a subject like that. Kate and Nikki and Bomber seemed very good at rattling on about nothing and he'd always prided himself on meeting Kate's standard at everything – or at least trying.
---
"So I was thinking, next time we head out we should go down near the heads but to the rocks, I've had some pretty good luck around there recently"
"Really?"
"Yeah"
"Instead of the tinny?"
"There's some really great spots down there mate, trust me"
"…"
"…"
"Nahhh…used to go down there with my brother, hated it. Stick to the tinny sir"
"Oh"
---
It was late one afternoon, Australia was being beaten to the ground in the Sydney test and all Mike wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die. He hated being sick. The general feeling of his chest trying to escape up his throat, the wheezing and the coughing and the sniveling that made him feel disgusting and not at all cool, calm and collected.
Just as a loud sneeze was about to erupt his phone flashed a brilliant green and vibrate off the edge of the lounge. He threw himself forward, sneezing violently before groaning and picking up the offending piece of technology.
He stumbled with the buttons, trying to remember which ones to press before the screen revealed its hidden message.
'the aussies r looking as terrible as u… sir'
His brow crinkled in confusion, trying to decipher who would send him such a message before remembering the crew had decided to meet up to watch the game at Buffers. No doubt 2Dads or Spider thought it would be funny to tease the him after he'd had stay at home.
The phone buzzed loudly once more, startling him as he madly pressed down on it.
'Sorry about Spider sir, I told him and 2Dads not to send it but he wouldn't listen. You know how they can get. After all, surely you couldn't look as terrible as the aussie's no matter how sick you are'
Mike grinned madly, watching as Sidle made his way onto the field. He sighed loudly, at least he and Charge would have something to talk about next week.
---
"Bloody brilliant"
"Bloody ridiculous!"
"Still can't believe they made it sir, I mean even coming off Hussey's century there was no way they should have won"
"That's Hauritz for you"
"Bloody brilliant"
"Especially that catch, hit him right in the chest!"
"Brilliant…"
"Yeah…"
"So"
"Hmmm?"
"…"
"Bloody ridiculous"
---
He wasn't sure what he was supposed to talk about now. Fishing, footy and cricket had all been used and abused to the point where he wondered if it would be rude to ignore his friend when they were stuck along together.
Surely within the confines of work he wasn't obligated to spend this much time plotting conversations with his officers. They had important work to do after all, saving Australia's coastlines from bandits and thieves and smugglers - and holding the occasional barbeque and footy match. Then there was the snorkeling and the fishing and the bush walks Kate had convinced him to go on last time they'd stopped for shore leave in a foreign port.
Really though, he had a very important job as Lieutenant Commander.
He nodded his head decidedly. This time he'd let Charge dictate the conversation.
---
"…"
"…"
"Seeing anyone sir?"
"…"
"What was that sir?"
"Nothing, sorry"
"Thought you were singing for a moment sir"
"Nah"
"It's a good song, that one, by the way"
"What one?"
"The one you weren't singing sir"
"Touché"
"Seriously though, never had you picked for a Crowded House fan"
"Really? Great songs, great songs…"
"Dream It's over, Better Be Home Soon"
"Hmm. Chocolate Cake"
"Huh?"
"The song. It's a good song"
"Not as good as Aussie Crawl though, ay?"
"And the Oils. INXS. You ever see them?"
"Yeah, playing before Chisel or something at bloody three in the morning down the pub"
"Ahh, the good old days"
"The good old days"
"Never knew you were a music fan Charge"
"Me? Oh yes sir. You?"
"Hell yeah"
"Powderfinger's new album?"
"Brilliant"
"Definitely"
"You know what…."
"Hmm? Sir?"
"How long do you reckon they'll be?"
"We can leave 'em swimming there for another few hours"
"Brilliant. I'll be right back"
---
It was two hours later when Kate stepped wearily onto the bridge that she began to wonder if leaving the Captain and Charge on the bridge by themselves was such a good idea.
Both men were seated quite comfortably, deep in animated conversation whilst Mike's iPod blared loudly in the background.
Kate sighed softly, noted the two men had yet to notice her and shook her head.
At least Mike had finally found a point of conversation.