If It Makes You Happy

"Andrew… Andrew you have to come out sometime."

"No I don't."

"Do you intend to starve yourself then, too?"

"Yes."

"Oh, come off it, And', it can't be that bad."

"Says the one who's perfectly fine and uninjured!"

"Says the one who's locked himself in his bedroom like a child!"

"I am not a child!"

"You're acting like one!"

"I'm giving you a break from your usual behavior."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Leave me alone, Teddy."

"Fine! If you won't come out, then I'll have to come in there."

"The door is locked, smart arse."

"I can see that."

"No… no you can't."

"You knew what I meant."

"Of course, Teddy. Now go away."

"No. You're being stubborn, so I'm going to be stubborn back."

"Don't you have cats or something to take care of?"

"Dorothy and Jewels are perfectly fine on their own."

"You're not taking my hints, Teddy. Go. Home. Now. Please."

"No."

"Why do you insist on torturing me?"

"You call this torture?"

"You're a riot, Theodore."

"I try."

"What are you doing out there?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"If you are defiling my bedroom door…"

"Now why would I do that?"

"You were about to last week."

"I wasn't… I was trying to open the door."

"The latch isn't that hard."

"…I was kind of drunk."

"Kind of? I could smell you as soon as you came into the house."

"I wasn't that drunk."

"Were too. You're lucky I didn't greet you with my pistol instead of a blanket."

"Why would you greet me with your pistol?"

"Because if your drunken grumbling hadn't woken me up, I would have thought a Tortugan pirate had broken into my house."

"…I wasn't that drunk."

"Right. And the next morning was a bed of clouds, was it?"

"It wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't insisted on stomping around and yelling at the top of your lungs for things you already had!"

"Why did you come here in the dead of night, drunker than a skunk?"

"I thought I went home."

"Oh, right… now I remember."

"What're you doin' 'ere?"

"I live here, Teddy."

"…Really?"

"Yes."

"I'm not at my house, am I?"

"No."

"Why are we still having this conversation? I told you to go home. Several times."

"I know. I ignored you."

"I noticed."

Theodore sighed and turned his back to the door, leaning against it and sliding down until he sat on the floor. He stretched his long legs out in front of him.

"What's that sound? What are you doing?"

"I'm sitting down, what did you think I was doing?"

"Sitting down? What? No! No, you're supposed to go home!"

"You've already tried that, And'." Theodore told him, examining his nails. "It didn't work then, it's not going to work now."

"Why are you sitting outside my door?"

"James told me to check on you. And I was worried about you."

"You've checked on me. You can go report to James, now."

"You call this checking on you? We've been yelling at each other through a door for the past half an hour."

"It's only been a half an hour?"

"You're hilarious, And'."

"Don't call me that."

"I call you that all the time."

"You're not allowed to call me that when I'm mad at you."

"Fine. Andrew Keilan Gillette."

"You're not allowed to use my full-"

Here it comes.

"HOW DID YOU FIND OUT MY FULL NAME?!"

"Lifted your records when I was filing last."

"You little… you didn't have any right… you shouldn't have…"

"What's so wrong about it? I was curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat and I'm going to kill you, Theodore Jonathan Groves!"

"That lost effect a long time ago, And'. Mum and the girls yelled it too much."

"No much has changed, I see."

Theodore didn't respond.

Andrew sighed, relieved. He rolled over onto his side, nestling down into the covers. Maybe now he could finally nap…

He expected at least a begrudging goodbye. But there was no sound coming from the outside of his door. He tried to brush it off. He opened his eyes. He groaned. He threw the covers off himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Teddy…" He said softly, unlatching and opening the door. He let out a yelp as a blur shot past him into the room.

"Ha! Got you."

"What?" Andrew stared at him. He knew that grin. His eyes narrowed, darkening, "You tricked me!"

"Yes. Yes I did."

"You little…"

"I was worried."

"It won't work twice."

"Why not? It has before. You always fall for the guilt card. Even James made you fall for the guilt card. James. Who can't trick anyone to do anything to save his life. Even you have to admit that's a little bit pathetic, And'."

"I don't like you, Theodore Groves. Don't give me that look. I'm annoyed with you."

"You don't like being tricked, I know. I've heard it before. Multiple times."

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

"Because it's so easy."

Andrew glared.

"I'm better than I used to be. Now I only use it when I actually need to. Like now. I wasn't lying when I said I was worried about you."

"I am going back to bed."

Theodore watched as Andrew turned and stalked back to the large bed, climbing back underneath the covers, lying with his back to him. "And'…" He said softly, coming up behind him and sitting on the bed.

"Mm."

"And'… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you so far."

Andrew rolled over, "See? The guilt card works both ways, my dear. Now get off my covers." He swatted at him.

Theodore shifted to the edge of the bed.

"What're you doing?"

"Taking off my shoes. Unless you want me to wear them to bed."

Andrew made a noise.

"I thought not." Theodore lifted the covers and slid underneath, coming up to lie behind him. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

Andrew felt himself smile. He could never stay mad at Theodore for very long. In truth, he hadn't ever been truly mad at him, before. Annoyed, yes, countless times, but never actually mad.

"Are you all right?"

Andrew turned his head slightly to look at him. "Do I look all right?"

"Your eye does look sort of… unfortunate."

"I walked into a ceiling beam. I nearly knocked myself unconscious. I still have the bump on my head."

"And a lovely black eye to match."

"Yes, lovely."

"You're not the type to be clumsy… that's my job."

"That ship has the lowest beams I've ever seen."

"You gave James a right good scare, I heard."

"He was overreacting. You know how head wounds bleed. It was just a little cut, once it was cleaned up."

"That's our James."

"Sometimes I wonder if he's just squeamish at the sight of blood, or if he's just that genuinely worried about his commands…"

"He's seen plenty of blood, it's not that. I think your exclamations of foul-mouthed curses in several different languages riled him a bit, even if he only understood one or two of them. What's "bualadh craicinn caora" mean, anyway?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

Theodore sighed. Must have been a bad one, then. Andrew didn't swear often, even less when he was on duty. From what he had heard from the gossiping middies, there had been much colorful wording in several languages. He reached a hand up, and lightly traced his fingertips just below Andrew's hairline.

Andrew hissed slightly.

"Does it hurt that bad?" Theodore asked quietly, moving his hand away.

"You were coming dangerously close to the bruise, and the cut…"

"You really whacked yourself good, didn't you?"

Andrew snorted.

"My poor And'…" Theodore murmured, rocking him gently in his arms, "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

Andrew smiled softly. It was only slightly hard to believe that they were yelling at each other through the door not more than a few moments ago. "As long as you don't touch it."

Theodore raised his head and tenderly pressed his lips to Andrew's temple, carefully avoiding the lump. "Is that better, love?" He laid his arm across Andrew's, covering his hand with his as he settled back down.

"Mmnn."

"Why did you lock yourself away, in here?"

"Funny you're only now asking me that."

"I'm serious. It's not the first time you've done it. If you're upset, or you get hurt, you disappear. What do you do in there when you shut yourself away?"

"It's what I've always done." Andrew shrugged, shaking his head.

"Even when you were little?"

"Yes."

Theodore grinned at the mental image of a young Andrew Gillette, red hair and freckles (there was no possible way Andrew didn't have freckles as a child. Andrew denied it, but Theodore would never believe him), locking himself in his room.

"You're imagining me with freckles again, aren't you? How many times do I have to tell you- I never had them. Not everyone with red hair has freckles."

"No… But you did. You can still see them, when you get riled up."

"You can not!"

"They're faint, but they're there. Admit it, And': you were little and cute with unruly hair and freckles."

"You're right except for the freckles part."

"Whatever you say, And'."

"You were… you had… you used to…"

"There's really nothing to come back at me with. Even if there was some strange and amusing relic of childhood, you still wouldn't get nearly as much a rise out of me as I do you."

"I can't win with you."

"Not really, no. But it's so much fun to watch you try." Theodore smiled into him. "If it makes you feel any better, you've come rather close on several different occasions."

"Thanks. I think."

"You're welcome, darling."

Andrew blinked slowly as he felt Theodore's arms tighten slightly around him. "There's something about being alone…" He said quietly, after a pause, suddenly feeling the urge to talk, to answer the unasked questions. Theodore wouldn't force him to divulge anything he didn't want to. He might press him, needle him for a time, but as soon as he sensed that Andrew truly didn't want to talk of it, he always stopped. He knew when to stop, when he was about to cross the line.

"Whenever I got hurt, was sick… had been teased… I'd squirrel myself away in my bedroom, and hide under the covers." He smiled slightly, mind slipping back trough the years.

"When all else fails take a nap, eh?"

Andrew smiled, "Not always. I don't usually sleep. It's more the comfort and warmth of the bed, and the covers. It never lasted long, then, either- my brothers would always find out what had happened and make it their mission to extract me once again. Much like you've taken to doing, now."

"And what did they do to persuade you? You're right stubborn like no other. I haven't even gotten you out, though I got in."

"It runs in the family. Mum was a force to be reckoned with, and she passed it on to all three of her sons."

"Sounds like that household could be a riot at times. Four stubborn Gillettes going at it?"

"You can't even imagine. Father wouldn't even attempt to break us up, sometimes."

"Too dangerous?"

"And that was just Mum."

Theodore laughed. "I find it somewhat disappointing that I'll probably never meet your mum."

"You two would probably get along quite well, which is what frightens me. But as I don't see her coming out here, and we're not bound for England anytime soon, I doubt that will ever happen."

"Shame."

"Indeed."

"So, tell me what ingenious plan your brothers devised in order to extract their baby brother. I could learn something from those two."

"It's almost a pity you'll probably never meet them, either. Though I daresay the world would not be able to take it. I was still young enough that I didn't have a locking door. Mum and Father learned quickly from Darren and Marshall never to do that again. They would come in, unannounced and loud, as always. Jump on the bed. Pull the covers off me. The standard brotherly things." Andrew sighed. He lightly drew his fingers across Theodore's hand, as he held his arm around him, keeping him close.

"Once they'd gotten me from a lump under the covers to trying to fight them off they'd get me to talk about it. Make me feel better. Get me to play. I didn't mind it as much as I put on, even at the time. It didn't last, either. I was only four when Darren was married. Two years later, Marshall left.

"But they did come back, one time. They were both married with children of their own, but they heard about my fever… I woke up, still slightly feverish and feeling miserable to find them there with the toys spread out, waiting for me."

"I can see you sitting up in bed, with your brothers on either side, the entire toy chest emptied out in front of you. It's rather sweet." Theodore lightly kissed his cheek, brushing his lips across his ear as he settled back down.

"Sometimes. They usually just brought out my favorites."

"Oh? And what would those be?"

"My collection of wooden ships."

"You've always loved the sea."

"Yes."

"Well, I'm sorry I don't have your toy ships to coax you out of your hiding place with."

Andrew laughed once.

"I know that laugh."

Andrew didn't answer.

"You still have them, don't you?"

Andrew said nothing.

"You hid them in your sea chest when you first became a midshipmen, didn't you?"

Andrew remained quiet.

"Where are they?"

"What?"

Theodore was already up and out of the bed, looking around the room for the sea chest.

"Theo… Teddy what are you doing?"

"I know you've got them, now I just need to figure out where. Where do you hide things? You're not a back of the wardrobe type. Behind the books in the case? No, that's more of James's style."

"It'd be a little hard to hide wooden ships behind books, Teddy."

"In the back of a drawer? That's more like you. But that's also more for scraps of paper and such…" Theodore continued his search, ignoring or not hearing Andrew's interjection.

"Why are you so intent on finding them?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"Not really, no."

"That hurts, And'."

"I apologize."

"You could make it up to me by at least giving me a hint."

"And why would I do that when it's so amusing to watch you?" Andrew asked innocently. He turned onto his side, watching. "If you've already said I'm not one to hide things in the wardrobe, then why are you looking there?"

"Good question."

Andrew sighed, his eyes rolling skyward. He listened idly to the scraping and sliding noises, the low, murmured mumbling. A long, low scrape resonated through the room. "It's under the bed! Good lord, Teddy… I was unaware I had a chalkboard for you to run your nails down."

"So was I. Under the bed you say?"

"Yes. That's my hiding spot of choice. It's just a small box."

"Found it."

Theodore emerged with the wooden box in his hands. He set it on the bed and climbed up, lifting the lid and setting it aside. "And'…" He breathed, looking down at the contents. He slowly reached a hand in and withdrew a small, exact carving of a carrack. "These are perfect."

Andrew smiled slightly, "They were a gift."

"A gift worthy of a king. I've never seen anything like it before… never so much detail…"

"Grandmother had a soft spot for her youngest grandson. And Grandfather thought they might persuade me to put aside my books and play with the other normal boys."

"Did it work?"

"Not as well as he'd hoped, I'm sure. It just made me want to read more about them. Plus I didn't want anyone else to touch them, unless it was my brothers, and they were with me. Especially after Grandmother died." Andrew shrugged. "Why exactly did you want to find them, anyway? Now you have yet another secret of mine. I've never been able to part with some of my toys."

"No one in their right mind would part with these."

"I suppose they're still serving their purpose, then, even if it is amusing a grown man."

"They make you happy, though. That's why I wanted to find them. You always light up when you talk about when your brothers."

"That's why you came here, wasn't it? James may have asked you to check on me… but you would have done it, anyway."

Theodore smiled, "You know I'd do anything to make you happy."

The End