A/N: This is my first foray into Black Sails fanfiction. I loved the romantic twist in the middle of season two and had to write something. Major spoilers ahead.

"Did you just ask my father to leave his own house?" Thomas sounds like he wants to burst out laughing.

James stands up. He had been surprised by his own passion when speaking to Lord Hamilton, but he is now certain that he did the right thing. "People can say what they want about you, but you're a good man. More people should say that, and someone should be willing to defend it."

Thomas stands, too. "Thank you," he says softly. "My true friend."

James looks at Miranda, still seated in her position. "I should leave," he says. It feels terribly wrong suddenly, being here, taking Thomas's gratitude, while standing opposite Thomas's wife, his recent lover. Even with the rumours that Thomas knowingly turned a blind eye to his wife's infidelities, it still feels like a betrayal. That's why he had reacted so strongly to Miranda's father-in-laws insinuations, not just because he believed in Thomas's cause.

"Don't go yet." Thomas walks around the table, coming to face James. For a moment James thinks Thomas is going to shake his hand, but instead he places his hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. James feels the same sensation he felt the first time he met the other man. It was the sense of being in the presence of a truly great man, as Miranda had said, but there was something else there too, something he couldn't put a name to.

When Thomas leans in for the kiss James instinctively pulls back, but keeps his eyes on Thomas's face, on those startling blue eyes. There's a longing in those eyes that reflects the feeling that James has been trying to push away for these past few months. When the taller man leans in again James doesn't resist this time. Their lips meet, and James finds his arms coming up to hold Thomas as he allows himself to feel, finally, the feeling he didn't want to name. As Thomas's hand comes up to stroke his cheek, James has the sensation of leaving his body and watching himself as if from a great distance.

It's Thomas who breaks off the kiss, looking anxiously into James's eyes as if to gauge his reaction. James suddenly remembers Miranda, still sitting there, watching her two lovers kiss with a strange expression on her face. It's a sad, resigned look, a little angry, but not the least bit surprised. Suddenly it all makes sense, why Thomas tolerates his wife's affairs, why she is willing to be slandered as unfaithful, because the truth about her husband can never be known publicly. The consequences would be unthinkable.

James removes his arms from Thomas's waist and steps back. "Round up as many men as you can."

"Sorry?"

"Your friends, peers, other lords. We need to explain your plan to them before your father can get to them."

Thomas looks a little disappointed, but he nods.

James comes to Thomas's office the next day, just as arranged. They sit and talk about the pirate problem and how Thomas's father's attitude could stand in the way of their plans to reform Nassau. It's as if the rest of the previous night never happened until Thomas says, almost conversationally: "You must have questions about what happened after my father left last night."

James hesitates. "I thought we had an unspoken agreement not to talk about that. My Lord."

Thomas sighs at the use of his title. He leans forward, clearly searching for the right words in this situation. "If I made you uncomfortable, I apologise."

"I wasn't uncomfortable, sir." The words come automatically, but James realises they are true as he says them.

Thomas looks relieved. He smiles. "You've probably realised by now that my wife and I don't have a ... conventional marriage."

James thinks of Miranda straddling him in the back of her carriage. "Yes, I've gathered that."

"We love each other. But we don't confine each other. She has her affairs and I have mine."

James thinks about this. "So do you kiss all of your wife's lovers?" It sounds more accusatory that he intended. He's hardly in a position to judge the Hamiltons' marriage.

"No, you're the first." Thomas sounds amused and James looks at him.

"So why me?"

"Why not you?" Thomas looks confused by the question. "Your lack of social standing?"

James remembers the comments Thomas made at their first meeting about his background, how he had resented the implications at the time. But that's not what's bothering him now. "You know how much I admire you... Thomas. I have the greatest respect for you. But I'm not... you know... that kind of man."

"So you just kiss all your lovers' husbands?"

James smiles in spite of himself and lowers his gaze. "You are most definitely the first."

Thomas reaches across the table and takes James's hand. His thumb makes slow circles across James's skin. "This doesn't have to be complicated, you know."

There's a rap at the door and James pulls his hand away as Miranda enters, carrying a tray. "Tea, gentlemen?" she says cheerfully.

"Thank you, darling." Thomas accepts a cup with a smile. James can't quite bring himself to meet Miranda's eyes.

Miranda sets the tea tray down on her husband's desk, bending to give him a peck on the lips as she does so. "I'll see you after your meeting, darling." Thomas smiles up at her and James feels the same strange tug of jealousy he had felt while watching the couple together before in this room. Only it hadn't been Thomas he was jealous of. Now he can admit that to himself. He allows Miranda a small smile as she sweeps out of the room.

"Where were we?" asks Thomas when the door closes.

"You were saying that this didn't have to be complicated."

"Ah, yes." Thomas gets up and comes around to lean on the chair at James's side. James finds it hard to take his eyes off him, his presence almost hypnotic.

"As long as we all know where we stand. My wife and I are happy with our arrangement. If you still want to see Miranda, I won't stand in your way. And she... won't stand in our way."

James attempts to verbalise some of his fears. "If your father or anyone else ever found out..."

"My wife and I are masters of discretion. When it's necessary."

Thomas reaches out to caress James's face and he can feel his will to resist slipping away again. Thomas must still be able to see the doubts in his eyes, because he adds: "If you want this to stop, it can stop right now."

James looks into those piercing blue eyes again and knows it's already gone too far for that. He moves in towards the other man's lips. "I don't."

Present

Know no shame. James's fingers traced over the words Thomas had inscribed to him. Knowing no shame was easier said than done after all the crimes he was guilty of. But the one thing that haunted him most, the one thing he would never stop being ashamed of, was that he hadn't tried to save Thomas. His superiors had told him that the affair was disgusting, loathsome, and he'd believed them. He had gone along with the pretense that Thomas had been committed over distress at his wife's affair and fled England with Miranda, bringing her here and leaving Thomas to rot. At the time he had rationalised that it was what Thomas wanted, for he and Miranda to protect each other, but he knew there had been a certain amount of cowardice involved too. So much easier if he had lost his position because of an affair with his best friend's wife, rather than being considered unnatural. He'd told Miranda that he wasn't ashamed of his and Thomas's relationship, but was that really true, even now? Could he imagine his crew, the people he did business with, knowing who he really was?

That was why he had to go ahead and seize control of Nassau. This was all he had left. It hadn't just been Thomas they killed when they committed him. They'd killed him too. He'd lied and stolen and murdered and become someone that Thomas, his gentle Thomas, wouldn't even recognise, for the sake of this task. James McGraw was dead and Captain James Flint, the most feared pirate of the new world, was going to fulfil the mission of the man he loved. And God help anyone who stood in his way.