Author's Note:
Ah… I find this drama quite entertaining. (Perhaps not as much as my love for action, but I like it nonetheless…)
Scroop carefully made his way to the captain's quarters with a tray of lunch held between his pincers. He kept his eyes glued to the tray, hoping to avoid spilling the soup that he had balanced upon it, so he wouldn't grant himself extra work.
The young arachnid had become so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice a young brunette man in the same corridor, until he bumped his tray against him.
Scroop winced, as if expecting to be hit. Jim simply grasped the bowl of soup before it could spill a drop onto the floor.
"Good afternoon, Scroop." Jim smirked in introduction. "I have a favour to ask of you."
"What's that?" Scroop averted his golden eyes.
"Well, you see my older brother has been avoiding me for the past week," Jim idly swished the contents of the bowl around, "and I'd like to speak with him."
"What do you need me for?" Scroop asked.
"Well, Scroop, you happen to be the only person who's seen him for any length of time, all week…" Jim smirked. "So I reckon that you can get me into his quarters."
"I haven't been in his quarters." Scroop stated. "I only deliver his meals; he just opens the door and takes them."
Jim chuckled. "Oh believe me –Scroop- I only need the door to be opened." He smirked, his amber eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Captain Silver?" Scroop's recognizable voice came from the other side of the door to John's quarters. "Your lunch…"
There was noise within and John came to the door. "Thank yeh lad." he nodded as he took the tray of food. "Now on with yeh, I imagine yeh 'ave more work teh get done." Scroop mutely nodded and skittered down the hallway.
Just as John was closing the door, Jim slid the blade of a knife between the doorjamb and the door -close to the door's hinges- stopping the door from closing completely. John didn't take notice that the door to his quarters wasn't shut, and he set the meal down on the corner of his desk, looking out through the port windows of his quarters.
Jim stealthily grasped the doorknob and opened the door, loosening the knife he had wedged between it and its frame. He crept around the door, gently closing it behind him and he tiptoed towards his older brother.
"Yeh 'ave gotten a little craftier since I last saw yeh, haven't yeh Jimbo?" John asked without turning around.
Jim chuckled and stopped tiptoeing. "And you're hearing has gotten better, despite your growing age, hasn't it Johnny?" The young brunette speared a hunk of bread off of John's tray and took a bit out of it.
John scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What do yeh want, Jimbo?" He turned to face his brother.
Jim shrugged innocently. "Do I have to want something to see my older brother?"
"So, yeh don't want anythin'?" John raised an eyebrow.
"Well…" Jim gulped down the hunk of bread. "I didn't say that…" He smirked.
John sighed, sitting down in an armchair behind his desk. "What do yeh want, Jimbo?"
Jim prodded the desk's top with his bread-impaled knife. "I want to know why you're so down, Johnny." He twirled the knife between his fingers. "Usually you're an okay guy, but lately, well… not so much."
"What are yeh getting at?" John raised an eyebrow.
Jim shrugged. "There's something bothering you." He waved the knife at John. "And I wanna know what that something is."
John sighed. "It's none of yer concern, Jimbo."
"Oh yes it is!" Jim snapped, dropping the knife back onto the tray, "It is my concern, Johnny-Boy, because you are unhappy and that's affecting me!" He stared frankly into his older brother's coal-black eyes. "You are hiding something from me and that's what's eating away at you, so spit it out!"
"Are yeh talking down teh yer older brother, Jimbo?" John challenged.
"Yes, I am." Jim retorted. "Because right now he's just acting like a big baby."
"Now see 'ere!" John stood from his chair to meet the challenging eyes of his younger brother.
"No you see here, John!" Jim snapped. "I know something's up and I've got half a mind that it has something to do with you and Rebecca."
"Well, if that's the case, Jimbo," John began, "then I suppose it would only concern me an' Rebecca."
"No, because it's affecting everyone!" Jim shouted.
There was a pause between the feuding brothers. Then Jim let out a sigh.
"You'd be able to see that if you came out of this prison of yours." He turned away, opening the door. "And if not, Johnny, then have your self a nice, happy birthday… all alone. You could sit here bellyaching all night, get drunk…" Jim began walking out. "Read a book, for all I care!" He slammed the door forcefully behind him.
There was a moment's silence as the quiet of solitude settled in the captain's quarters. John reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and retrieved the navy-blue-covered journal.
The words of Rebecca and his brother echoed freshly in his mind as he opened up the pocketbook, smoothing out the first page, and began to read into its contents.
Author's Note:
Thank you for the reviews and to Whisperwings, thanks for betaing!
MG#6