A/N: The Patriot is obviously not mine. :P This is quite an amusing lil fic about our dear Tavington. I can't really explain it to you. It is more or less a story about the hatred between O'Hara and Tavington. You'll have to read it to find out for yourself. :) And believe me I think you'll find this Tav. fic particularly funny.

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Tavington sat hunched over a mug of beer. He was in a dark, gloomy loyalist pub, late on a Saturday evening, drowning his many frustrations in alcohol. He sat in the furtherest corner from the door at a tired, old table. He had a clear view of the door so he could watch anyone coming and going. At the moment, though, he really wasn't paying much attention to anyone else in the pub. He was to intent on glaring down into his mug of beer.

            He was seated across from Captain Bordon, who was still on his first drink. By now, Tavington had drunk about three mugs of strong beer and was well on his way to being deliriously drunk. Tavington could not have cared less about the huge hand over he knew he was going to have tomorrow. He'd live through it, unfortunately. He sighed down into his mug, swishing the contents around and watching them whirl about. He lifted his mug and chugged down about half the liquor in one go. It slid down into his stomach, sending an unnatural warm rush through him, but he didn't mind. He rather enjoyed the feeling of warmth the alcohol gave him. H slammed the mug back down on the table with more force than was necessary, causing Bordon to jump slightly in surprise.

               "Are you quite alright, Colonel?" Bordon asked, with something between concern and worry in his tone.

            He was probably worried about Tavington causing trouble again. He had taken to accompanying the Colonel to the pub after what had happened a few months ago. There was not much to say about the whole matter of that bar brawl. It had just involved Tavington and another officer, some broken beer kegs and tables, and the death and injury of several good British men. Needless to say Bordon would rather not see that kind of display of aggression again for a long while. Since that last incident he had actually been ordered by another higher ranking officer to go with Tavington and keep him out of trouble at the pub. This had not been exactly Tavington's "cup of tea" and he had made quite a fuss about the whole matter, but in the end. Mostly because the Officer had threatened to excuse Tavington from his duties for several days until he got his temper back under control. For Bordon it was not always the easiest job in the world, considering the Colonel's volatile nature. Nearly every time they visited the pub Bordon had to divert a disaster, mostly between General O'Hara and Tavington. The two had acquired a rather deep loathing for each other early on the war.

               "No, Bordon, I am not," Tavington growled, sarcastically. He pulled off his black riding gloves and flung them into his helmet on the table.

            Bordon was not sure whether he should press the matter or not. He would rather not be caught in the line of the Colonel's fire, but he'd rather not have someone else get it either. Luckily, he did not have to debate long about it. Tavington went on without his prompting. Oh, the horror a mug of beer or two did to Tavington, Bordon sighed to himself.

               "Once again, Bordon, I was invited into the Cornwallis' private office for a verbal beating. This time it was about my conduct towards higher ranking officers then me, essentially toward that daft idiot O'Hara. General O'Hara seems to have been complaining about me once again!" Tavington snarled out General like it was some kind of poison.

            It never ceased to amaze Bordon how open the Colonel could be when he had been drinking. He sighed and pushed his mug aside. No use in him being drunk as well. He had a feeling he was going to need his wits about him again tonight.

               "O'Hara told Cornwallis that I had blatantly disregarded the orders given to me by the little nit over a matter of not killing the colonials in the skirmish yesterday but capturing them," Tavington went on, rolling his eyes. "I suppose O'Hara would try to walk right up to those rebels in the middle of a firefight and kindly ask them not to shoot him while he takes them all hostage."

            Bordon could not help smiling at this, which made Tavington smirk in amusement. The though of O'Hara being shot down while trying something that stupid was pretty funny.

               "No, of course not," the Colonel shook his head, serious once again. "He would hide behind the burliest soldier he could find and let others do the dirty work for him, which of course is why I am still here. I do all the dirty work, and then get punished for doing the dirty work that no one else has the guts to do!"

               "Sir, really-," Bordon tried to cut in with no success. 

               "That prissy little doll of a man hides behind Cornwallis and his army because he is to afraid to spoil his perfect complexion or get his hands dirty!" Tavington's voice was growing steadily louder by the second.

            Several of the pub patrons had gone silent, nervously shifting in their seats. They had all been around long enough to know what happened when the Colonel got angry. No one ever liked to be near Tavington when he was in one of his moods. Hopefully, Tavington's rage would run its course without to much raucous and mayhem this time. Bordon almost laughed at that thought. Not bloody likely.

            It was right at that moment that General O'Hara came stalking into the little pub. He looked around with a disdainful sniff and his eyes settled at last on Colonel Tavington. Everyone had fallen deathly silent and the tension in the pub increased ten fold. Everyone had been seen the near fights between the two British officers. They were all waiting for the day when Tavington would snap and give O'Hara what he deserved. Maybe tonight would be that night.

            Bordon swallowed hard and glanced over at the Colonel. Tavington was gripping his mug so hard that Bordon thought for sure it would break. If looks could kill, O'Hara would have been dead before he knew what hit him. O'Hara being as stupid as he was, headed straight over to Tavington's table. Bordon unconsciously gripped the edge of the table anxiously, praying that Tavington would be able to keep his temper under control but knowing that it was useless.

               "Colonel Tavington," O'Hara greeted in his high, girly formal voice.

            Tavington did not even glance up at him. "O'Hara," he growled.

            Still O'Hara was to daft to take the hint that now was not a good time to try and talk to the Colonel. Apparently he had not learned from all his previous encounters with Tavington. He did not seem to understand the fact that right at this moment he was walking on dangerous ground. Or maybe O'Hara just liked poking the already angry cobra. Whatever the case, he didn't leave but continued to stand there. Bordon almost felt sorry for him, but anyone who was stupid enough to bother the Colonel in the state he was in was asking for whatever Tavington gave him.

               "Is there something you wanted?" Tavington snapped, in an icy tone. He could have frozen their drinks with that voice.

            O'Hara suddenly seemed to realize he was provoking the wrong man. He shifted uneasily, but his pride would not allow him to leave. He had come to deliver Tavington his orders and by God he would do so. "I have come to speak to you about tomorrow's raid."

                "Oh?" Tavington gave O'Hara a bored look.

            O'Hara took a deep breath, forcing himself not to get irritated by the Colonel's response. "Yes. There are strike orders that must be fulfilled on the raid tomorrow. One of them is that you are to capture the colonials that surrender and bring them back to fort. Under no circumstances, will you be allowed to kill them unless they attack you."

               "I don't know why you bother, O'Hara, seeing as I will "blatantly" disregard the orders anyway," Tavington remarked, as glared up at O'Hara with undisguised disdain.

            O'Hara looked as though he'd swallowed something bitter. "You will do as you are ordered-!"

               "Or what, O'Hara?" Tavington shot back, standing up menacingly. "What are you going to do about it? Run back to Cornwallis and tattle like the spoiled little brat that you are?"

            O'Hara's face had gone bright red in outrage. "How dare you!"

            Bordon grabbed Tavington's arm and jerked him back down in his seat. "Now, Colonel, don't go getting yourself into trouble that you will regret in the morning. I think you've had one to many drinks."

                "Yes, Colonel Tavington, listen to your Captain. He seems to be the wiser of the two of you," O'Hara said, snottily.

            Tavington clenched his teeth and curled his hands into fists. O'Hara had done it now. He had gone to far.

                "You would not be so brave if you didn't have someone to constantly protect that porcelain white ass of yours," Tavington snarled, his expression becoming that of the cold, controlled look of the "Butcher."

            O'Hara swallowed hard, and had a brief glimpse of his life flashing before his eyes. Yet, that horrid pride of his would not allow him to back down. "How dare you!" he exclaimed, once again in great indignation and because he was unable to think of anything else. He was not the most intelligent of being ever.

               "How dare I? It's quite simple really," the Colonel stood up with a nasty sneer.

            Bordon sensed the danger before O'Hara did. Unfortunately, he was not fast enough to divert it. Tavington hauled back and punched O'Hara right in the jaw. O'Hara reeled backwards, grabbing onto a near by table to keep himself from falling to the floor. He blinked several times, and clutched at his jaw. He felt very close to passing out. Those annoying black spots would not clear form his vision.

               "Well, General, you have a rather glass jaw. To bad I didn't hit you harder," Tavington smirked.

            He calmly sat back down and picked up his mug of beer. O'Hara seemed to have gained some control of his senses back and was glaring, murderously, at Tavington. The Colonel took another gulp from his mug and sneered at O'Hara. "Go ahead, O'Hara, and run back Cornwallis. Tell him that you got beat by a subordinate you are supposed to have control over."

               "You…you ill mannered arrogant…bastard!" O'Hara cried, still shaken and unwilling to even go near Tavington again.

            Tavington glanced up at him. "Get out of here you prissy doll before I spoil your pretty face more."

             O'Hara's eyes glinted with fury. He sputtered angrily, unable to find a come back to Tavington. O'Hara straightened up into his normal haughty position, despite the pain in his jaw. He gave Tavington a last malevolence look, then turned on his heel and marched out. He did not look at anyone, but held his head high. Tavington watched him go with a deep satisfaction. That had felt incredibly good. A small smile played across his lips as the pub door slammed shut.

            Bordon shook his head and sighed. "That was not a very wise thing to do, sir."

               "I suppose I will regret that tomorrow," Tavington grudgingly agreed. He sighed heavily and chugged down the rest of his beer. He picked up his hat and gloves, then headed for the door. "It was certainly worth it though, Bordon."

            Bordon bit back a smile that threatened to expose his amusement.

               "Come on, Bordon. I think we've seen enough excitement for the night," Tavington remarked, as he strode out of the pub. Behind them, Bordon could feel the tension in the pub decrease immediately. Laughing and talking picked up as the door shut behind them.

            There was no doubt about it. Tavington was far to complicated to figure out, Bordon thought with a smile. He definitely preferred Tavington when he was drunk. At least when the Colonel was drunk he had a sense of humor like normal people. He followed the Colonel back to down the street toward the fort. He glanced over his shoulder at the little pub and sighed. Yes, Colonel Tavington would deeply regret his actions tomorrow. Not mention the massive hang over he would have as well.

               Such is life, Bordon grinned.

The end.

p.s. Don't forget to review!! ;)