There is absolutely no way this story can be written on a day-by-day basis so expect jumps in timeline (typically just days and I'll give you a heads up if it's been weeks/months and only much later will there be a jump in years). Hope you've enjoyed thus far-I welcome criticism equally to praise; though criticism is more useful to making a story better and praise just feeds the ego.
Early misgivings aside, it had thus far been an easy enough week of sailing. No major storms or mishaps had occurred; well no mishaps save the "accidental" man overboard incident that the ship was currently recovering from. James stood with Gillete and the captain as the rest of the mid-ship crew recovered the "lost" man. While he hadn't seen the actual event he'd heard about it from Gillete and could picture it easily enough. It seemed that the crew that he served with was determined to kill itself one way or another.
The boy, Ashlin, had been out with her cabinmate Groves during the luncheon when a few of the crew members had approached the pair. Some loose words had been traded, a few challenges thrown down, and then a fight had broken out. From his understanding, there were no hard feelings amongst any of the crew, just a few of the lads had taken it upon themselves to "toughen up" the clerk and Groves had only gotten in the way. James understood the jests and tests fellow shipmates put each other through and was surprised that Groves had even stepped in between the lot. If he had been nearby he would've let the other sailors have their way with the boy-he at least liked to reassure himself that he would've instead of focusing on the initial discomfort he'd felt at the thought of Ashlin beat.
In any case, as Gillete relayed, Ashlin had managed to evade all hits swung at him-though Groves had not been so lucky-and had been scurrying away up the rigging when the man in pursuit, the ship's cooper Hardy, had gotten thrown off balance and tossed into the sea. James had a hard time picturing the rest, as he'd seen little action out of the clerk aside from laughing and writing, but Gillete and the captain had both been witness to it. Ashlin had gone from scurrying away to acting as savior. He'd managed to tie himself off to the rigging and jumped in after Hardy within moments of the man's fall. It had been the cries of encouragement from the crew that had brought James out of the chart room and onto deck with the other officers.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the captain smile as both Ashlin and Hardy were finally hauled on board in a heap of tangled, wet flesh. The clerk was almost immediately on his feet, untying himself and attempting to get away back to his cabin. However, he was held back by Hardy's mates, Thomas and Davies, as well as by Groves. The rest of the crew drew closer and soon had Ashlin hoisted over their shoulders in delight, tossing the boy up and down in celebration as Hardy continued to catch his breath and recover on deck.
"It seems our clerk is a man of many talents." The captain commented from his left. "He can organize charts and logs even when you purposefully sabotage his efforts Lieutenant, avoid hits as if he were born on the boxing ring, and apparently swim like a fish." The captain turned to move back into the chart room. "Make sure that he gets an extra serving of ale tonight Lieutenant."
"Aye sir." James nodded and waited until the captain was out of ear shot before he turned to Gillete. "Let them have a few more moments of fun but then get them all back to work. I'm going to have a word with the clerk."
He didn't wait to hear Gillete's reply before he left down the stairs and towards the now retreating clerk, he'd managed to extract himself from the rest of the crew and was currently making his way towards his quarters. As James drew closer he took in the appearance of the lad with hidden amusement. His shirt had been tugged away from his skin and now hung limply around him, though James could detect traces of skin color through the thin material. It looked as if the lad wore another shirt beneath his outershirt, an odd thing to do, but he wasn't going to fault him. Perhaps Ashlin did it to make himself look bulkier and tougher.
It was when his eyes traveled down from the sagging shirt that James was appalled to realize that he'd noticed how the lad's breeches now clung to his legs like a second skin, emphasizing strong but lithe muscles and almost feminine hips. His eyes lingered a moment longer than was heterosexually appropriate before he cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the rather shapely bum he'd been unexpectedly ogling.
"Mr. Fitzpatrick." James noticed how the clerk's shoulders tensed as if he'd been struck. When he turned to face him, however, his face was calm, albeit wet from sea water. James chose to ignore how the water caused the auburn hair to stick to the lad's forehead and how droplets began to streak down his face and neck. "That was a noble thing to do. The captain commends you for your bravery and authorized an extra ration of ale tonight as reward."
The clerk maintained eye contact and his face was passive but James got the distinct feeling that he desperately wanted to say or do something that would perhaps not be wise. He knew this from the way the lad angled his body sideways, kept his shoulders squared, and his chin up. A moment passed until the lad loosened his stance and jerked his head in acknowledgment. He turned back towards his cabin.
"Mr. Fitzpatrick." James couldn't stop the irritation from entering his voice. He'd just complimented him and told him of his reward and he had nothing to say in return? He waited until the clerk turned to face him again, though he'd shaken out his damp hair and it hung in front of his face by now, sheltering a good portion of his eyes from sight. This did nothing but further James' irritation since he'd earlier found himself staring into them wondering why they appeared to be so hypnotic. "I expect a great deal more respect from you. When a superior officer addresses you, though you are a mere civilian, you are still expected, by contract, to properly reply."
The lad's jaw tensed and again James got the sense that the lad wanted to do something but it was only a moment before the lad nodded and bowed his head slightly, "I apologize, sir," he definitely put more emphasis on the "sir" than was necessary, James noted, "I will be sure to thank the captain the next time I see him for his generosity. Is there anything else that you need of me sir? I would like to change into dry clothing before returning to my duties, sir."
The mention of his clothes had James' eyes straying downwards again, though he quickly brought his eyes back up when he realized what he'd been about to do. He tensed his jaw and nodded, giving a little wave but no verbal reply before he turned on his heel and hurried back up the stairs to the poop deck. What was it with the cursed lad that drew his attention so much? Never before had he ever paid so much attention to clerks, let alone any civilian posted on a ship. He'd served with many an interesting fellow, all shapes and sizes, from all sorts of backgrounds, but never had he stopped to inadvertently admire the shapes of their thighs. James clenched his jaw and put a stop to his scattered thoughts. They had begun to go in a direction he was not interested in going, not now, and not ever.
She couldn't believe they hadn't guessed her sex, her clothes were molded her to skin and only by carefully standing and angling her body had she been able to keep from being discovered. Ashlin tore into her cabin and latched it. Perhaps the age-old saying that one sees what one wants to see was correct. Within moments she had her wet clothing off and hurriedly pulled on dry ones. It had all gone horribly wrong so quickly. She'd acted without thinking about her disguise and that fact could not make her any angrier. This was not a vacation or a social experiment. The lives of her family members were at stake!
Her anger at herself had not lessened but had grown in fact, and found a new target, when that damn lieutenant came up to her when she was just shy of freedom. Her instinctive reaction had been to fight, but then remembering her location and rank she'd managed to communicate politely enough. Thankfully she'd managed to pull her shirt away from her body and wring it out a bit and so the lieutenant was none the wiser. His uppity attitude had gotten under her skin of course, as it always did.
How she could find herself so attracted to such a prat she'd never know. Ashlynne growled to herself as she toweled off her hair before hanging up her clothes to dry, the lone window in the cabin propped open for the breeze. He seemed to be just as aware of her as she was of him and that did not bode nicely for her. Today should've been the day that he guessed her sex, if hell really was as close to her heels as she felt it to be. However, he'd surprised her and did little more than turn his nose up at her. She should've been grateful for that fact, but instead she found herself frustrated with her own sense of disappointment.
Did she expect him to suddenly open his arms and welcome a lying, cross-dressing female into his arms whilst on board a British naval ship? She could hang for what she was doing, even with her background and high up contacts. She was not authorized by anyone other than herself to be doing this as she was. If caught, she'd be strung up and abandoned by all but her family. If caught, her family would be doomed to destruction as well. And the pretty lieutenant would know none of this. He'd scorn her and watch her feet kick after the short drop through the wooden planks.
Readjusting her bindings and double checking her appearance one last time, Ashlynne jerked open the cabin door and made her way back to the charting room to resume her logs. She knew she was over exaggerating the lieutenants supposed reaction. He was a rational man; she knew this from observing his interactions with the crew around her. He did not often allow his emotions to dictate how he treated the crew or when he delved out discipline. If worse came to worse and she had to reveal her identity, as long as she had her speech planned out and evidence handy, she figured he may at least forgive her and perhaps would try to keep her from hanging and only push for life imprisonment.
Ashlynne hoped the the lieutenant had vacated the charting room but was disappointed, or satisfied—she still couldn't quite tell—to find him still in there, plotting something or another. He glanced up at the sound of her arrival but did nothing more than notice her dry clothing before returning to his task. She mentally sighed. She should not be disappointed in his dismissive stance. She should relish it.
Ashlynne sat on the stool and picked up her quill and looked back over the parchment in front of her. She would lose herself in her duties, that always seemed to help. She would ignore him just as he was ignoring her and they would strike up a truce in their silence. At least she hoped they could.
James glanced over at his silent companion. Ashlin certainly lacked in the conversation department. Upon returning the lad had almost looked disappointed to find him in there. Did the clerk think that this was his domain only? He hadn't said anything however, only sniffed and sat down to resume whatever he'd been doing prior to his "swim."
Either James scared the hell out of the lad and he was too intimidated to speak, or Ashlin truly was not much of a conversationalist. Either explanation would work, but James seriously hoped it was not the first. He hated it when the younger lads were intimidated by not only his skills but also his rank. He didn't expect the lad to warm up to him as a mate, like he had with Groves, but more than these quiet observations and disquieting awareness would be welcome.
"Mr. Fitzpatrick." He smirked when he saw the quill nearly drop from the lad's hands. Why he found amusement in his effect on the lad he wasn't quite sure, but it amused him none the less. "It seems that you and I have not been able to engage in much more than impolite exchanges."
The lad didn't look up from his paper but nodded, "Yes, sir?"
"I think we should change that." Ashlin finally looked up and over at him, his face a giant question mark. "Where do you call home lad?"
"No where really just wherever me family is." James noticed how the lad seemed to have difficulty swallowing. "We've always traveled around, so I learned from an early age to nay put stock in a place as a 'ome but rather in people."
"Why did your family travel so much?"
The lad smiled to himself and James felt a strange heat spark in his chest in response, "Weel, it was mostly me and me cousins who traveled. Me younger sister remained 'ome with the rest of the family, she wasnae as inclined towards the strange and unknown as we were. Bein' lads as we were," The lad put a strange emphasis on the last comment but James didn't put much stock in it as he listened, "And are, we naturally felt the allure of adventure in strange and far off places. Therefore, we banded together and took off, nay stayin' in one place for too long. We worked odd jobs while out there, keepin' only as much money as we needed and sendin' the rest home. That's where I learned 'ow to keep records and logs and the like." The lad sighed with a contented smile and seemed to be in a far off place, "Those years were the best years of me life thus far."
James was surprised at much the lad had spoken, in general and of himself. James had assumed that Ashlin would've told half truths or tiptoed around the questions instead of answering them. Perhaps, there was more to the lad than met the eye. "Well Mr. Fitzpatrick," James spoke aloud with a snort, "You're still quite young, I'm sure you've got more good years coming."
James mentally groaned. He sounded like an idiot. The lad only nodded before turning back to his parchment, leaving James alone with his self-loathing. Why did he care what the lad thought of him? He was a superior officer in the royal navy. He would probably go further than the lad in terms of rank in society.
"What about ye lieutenant?"
James looked up from the chart he hadn't been focusing on, "About me?"
Ashlin was looking at him strangely but repeated himself, "Are these the best years of yer life? 'ave you traveled much, beyond just to and from with the navy? Where do ye call 'ome?" When James didn't immediately answer the lad blushed and began to turn back to his parchment. "Forgive me if me questionin' ye in the same way ye questioned me is considered impertinent."
James was certain Ashlin didn't mean one bit of the apology but he wasn't offended. He was beginning to understand that Ashlin had a biting sense of humor that could easily be overlooked or confused with politeness. James was happy to have noticed this so quickly.
"I do not believe that a certain period of time can be considered the best or worst of a life. One's life is a continuous journey and while at the time it may feel as if it were 'best' or 'worst' you cannot know for certain that is so until you are at the end of your days and can look back with full understanding of all the events in your life. That being said, I am quite content with my life as it is. I have not traveled outside the navy nearly as much as you claim to have done. As for my home, it is wherever the navy sends me."
Ashlin seemed more than satisfied with his reply, nodding his understanding and turning back to his parchment. James felt both satisfied that he'd answered, frustrated that he'd revealed so much though the lad most certainly did not realize that he had, and disappointed that the clerk seemed more interested in staring at his parchment than continuing their conversation. James didn't know why he kept wanting to look at the lad. It was most exasperating, and confusing. It made him uncomfortable and at ill ease. That, coupled with his confounded desire to continue the pleasant, though awkward, conversation, probably prompted the next question.
"Are you interested in marriage and family, Mr. Fitzpatrick?"
He watched in fascination as the lad not only dropped his quill but also went solid as a stone. An odd reaction to an odd question, for sure, but James didn't comment on it. He was surprised he'd asked the poor lad the question but now that he'd asked he couldn't take it back. He watched as Ashlin stood from his stool to retrieve the quill, wiping it on the cloth on the table, before setting it back in the ink well.
"I havenae really thought of marriage to tell ye the truth." It sounded as if the lad was choosing his words carefully. "I suppose someday I do want to settle down and raise children, but I nay really saw a woman in my future."
Interesting reply, obviously carefully thought out. James nodded and he looked down at his chart, wondering if the lad would again try to get him respond in kind. He was not disappointed when he heard Ashlin clear his throat.
"And ye, lieutenant, will ye one day settle down with a missus and raise future naval officers together?" James got the distinct feeling that the picture Ashlin just painted was amusing to the lad, though his outward features betrayed nothing but polite interest.
James tipped his head to the side and narrowed his gaze on the lad, "The navy is my missus, Mr. Fitzpatrick." A flash of amusement that almost bubbled into laughter was obvious in the lad's eyes but he nodded quietly. "But should a woman of quality show herself compatible with the lifestyle of a naval officer then yes I will marry and we will raise a family together. Make no mistake, the navy is my lifeblood first and foremost."
The lad maintained his gaze for a few moments longer. The amusement was gone from his eyes and in its stead seemed a hint of, was that understanding or pity? A heartbeat more passed with their gazes locked before Ashlin nodded and turned back to his parchment. James felt that their conversation had gone on long enough. The room suddenly felt a little warmer, and smaller, and his charting had long since been done with.
"Do not forget about that extra ration of ale tonight, Mr. Fitzpatrick." He spoke over the lad's shoulder, fascinated when in response his fingers tightened on the quill. "I enjoyed our exchange here. Perhaps this can be how we communicate from now on." James didn't wait for a response before he moved out of the room and out into the sea air. A welcome difference after such a odd exchange.
Once he was gone she sighed in relief. Of course the small smile on her face turned to a frown when she noticed the deplorable work she'd been doing while in his presence. Shaking her head she began to the process of correcting her errors, a process that always served as a much needed humbling experience.
During their "polite exchange" she'd almost panicked more than once and had to swallow past a lump of fear. In answering him she knew she could go with half-truths, vague truths, or bold-faced lies—none of which left a good taste in her mouth. On the other hand, she could tell the complete truth and just let him assume her answer was coming from a man. She'd opted for that and found that telling him the truth, from the guise of a man, was most satisfying. Of course, being able to communicate with him rationally despite their "awareness" was satisfying as well.
Ashlynne didn't know what it was about him that made her so edgy but every time he turned his eyes towards her she felt like doing one of two things. One: confess her sins to him and fall at his feet for mercy, or two: throw herself into his arms and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. Ashlynne smiled suddenly. It was probably the latter idea that made her uncomfortable, because not only did James not know how close he was to being ravished every time he looked at her so closely, but also she couldn't afford to give into her more carnal yearnings
Ashlynne suddenly stiffened and snapped her mouth shut when she remembered his line of questioning. He was serious, and very curious, about her. She fascinated him; she didn't have to be gifted with mind reading to know this. While their conversation had done some good to ease the tension between them it also opened up more windows of opportunity for her to mess up or him become more curious about her.
Ashlynne groaned and shook her head. That extra ration of ale would be most welcome.
James shook his head and downed the rest of his tea. He seriously needed to get his mind off Ashlin. After he'd left the cabin and strolled about on deck, making sure the crew was at work, he'd found that his mind was still in the cabin with the clerk. More than once he'd had to shake his mind free of the confusing lad in order to concentrate on his conversation with either the captain or Gillette.
James glanced over to where the lad leaned against the rail, his gaze on the circle of shipmates who'd pulled out their instruments and were currently attempting to create an impromptu performance for them all. The captain had authorized it only as a reward for a job well done, and a life saved.
As he observed the lad, James frowned. There really was not anything spectacular about Ashlin; he was of average height and lanky, not large enough to be a true fighter, but very quick and stealthy, as proven from the earlier "mishap." His smile was charming, er, handsome enough and his laugh was indeed infectious. But none of that should have captured his attention the way he had.
Ashlin must have sensed his gaze as he turned his head and stared straight into his eyes. James clenched his jaw and tightened his hold on the cup but didn't shift his gaze. There was a challenge in them, the spark of awareness yes, but also a vulnerability that James was surprised he hadn't noticed before. They continued to stare at each other, dark green orbs staring into honey, until some of the men suddenly began to sing.
Ashlynne jumped from where she was leaning against the rail and quickly shifted her gaze down to the planks of wood beneath her feet. That had been too close for comfort. If the man did not know she was a woman already, surely he would know soon if she continued to stare at him like that. She had not meant to stare that long, mere curiosity over whether or not he was still looking at her had made her turn her head. It was just that his eyes were so mesmerizing, and it felt so comfortable and warm just to stare at him. Ashlynne frowned as she downed the last of her ale.
James frowned as well, not at all understanding his attraction and curiosity for this lad. He was not like men who were attracted to other men, he had always been attracted to women, but here he was ogling a poor lad. James shook his head as he stood up and walked up the stairs, away from the confusing lad.
There had been enough tension for one day. Though neither said this, they were both in agreement with the sentiment.