A/N (A REAL A/N): Um, so I lied. I decided NOT to let Bordon get drunk. It's just not him. Ok guys, I am completely winging this chapter. You probably wouldn't guess, but up until now, I have actually at least attempted to hand-write something. And Izzy—I'm sorry: for some reason, Fife just takes on some random characteristics of "Haldir the Happy" *sniggers* Be afraid. Be very afraid. Key part to this chapter: love makes asses of us all.

Everyone was sullen in the mess tent. Even Wilkins had been struck deep enough by the butchered corpses to give Joseph a day's reprieve on taunting. Instead, the captain sat with a face of iron in the corner, clenching a mug of ale but was seemingly too afraid to drink. Occasionally, he would shudder and squinch his eyes closed.

It was raining outside. Constance frowned with displeasure. A streak of lightening followed by a God-awful chord of thunder made her jump. Ever since her dunce middle brother had forgot her outside in a thunderstorm when she was three, Constance would become panic stricken at the onset of a storm. And these southern storms were particularly vicious.

Fife strolled in, dripping wet, with a handsome grin thrown across his features. Bordon noted him in the corner of his eye and nodded courteously.

"Well, fellows, why so glum?" the chipper lieutenant asked, folding his arms across his chest. "We ought be thankful and celebrating that we're not the ones dead!"

A chorus of half-hearted ayes and amens circulated the tent. Fife settled down with some rum. He downed it, then smiled again. "That's enough to purge my memory."

Bordon sneered and moved to sit by Constance. "That man is horrid, though I guess he had no particular attachment to any of those men. I did not either, but I believe it more respectful to—"

"Miss Tavington is gone, there's nothing to do!" Wilkins cried aloud finally. A few others snickered.

"Captain, that is hardly an appropriate comment," Bordon returned snappishly. "Especially when it is about the colonel's sister."

Fife had to add his two cents. "Oh, pish, Captain Bordon, sir. I take it you are married then? Either that or gelded."

The captain was indignant. "No, Lieutenant Fife. I find it better to keep my inclinations to myself. You find yourself in less trouble that way. As a gentleman, Fife, I suggest it as a good tenet to live by."

The lieutenant giggled. "Oh, really, captain? Pray tell us, what are your inclinations' toward the lady?"

"That is my own business."

"Very well, sir. I respect that, but you are definitely no fun."

Bordon stewed, growing red in the face.

Fife chuckled at his expression and carelessly waved a hand at him. "Lookit him, fellows! He's gone scarlet as a grenadier's coat! Methinks he adores the lady. No, loves her!"

"And what of it?" Bordon snapped. "I am as entitled to affection as you. Give me a good reason for why she should prefer you over me?"

"I am younger," Fife said a little arrogantly. "And more handsome." The others snickered.

The captain looked down at the table. Constance put a hand on his arm.

She rose and faced Fife. "She is not a good woman if that is all she would dare to fall in love with."

"Well said," Bordon murmured.

"Perhaps, perhaps," the lieutenant replied, nodding. "At least it is a place to start."

Captain Bordon pulled his friend back onto the bench. "Fine, Lieutenant Fife, I will admit that I have a soft place for her in my heart, but who here does not? Perhaps my intentions are more pure than most of yours, but we are all bound by that common feeling."

"Soft place? I think hard" Wilkins laughed.

His statement was not dignified with a response. "Yes, and so, Mr. Fife, I do believe I will have her brother's consent to escort her to the Middleton Ball."

"Sorry, sir. She's going with me."

Constance rose again. "Does anyone care what she may think?" The others erupted in laughter and a few even snickered "buggerer." She was not deterred. "You seem to think that woman was put on the earth for the whim of man."

"Indeed, Mr. Carleton," Bordon nodded.

"No one cares, Carleton! Sit down," Wilkins bellowed.

Bordon came to his friend's defense again. "What a fine lot of gentlemen you are, believing you may use such a small frail thing in such a horrible manner. A woman's heart, when set, is the truest thing you may ever find, but yet you gentlemen' ignore it and go and play about with your mistresses. I know a good number of you here are married, Captain Wilkins."

Though offended by the frailty part, Constance nodded in perfect agreement.

"Well even better! The better chances we unmarried fellows have if half of you are chained," Fife beamed. "You know, she'll probably be up for a bit of fun after the party."

"You would not dare." Bordon looked dangerous.

"What's stopping me?'

"The colonel."

Fife waved him off. "Oh, enough! Everyone knows very well he has no control over her. Last night, in the tent, did you see how he burned when she invited us to play cards? He wasn't happy, but he sure as Hell wasn't going to say anything. And why'd she just run off? He couldn't have stopped her. You know it. And you couldn't have either."

"What great charm do you have that would have kept her here?"

Constance shook her head mournfully. Why Captain Bordon was sinking to this level was bewildering. But the fact they were about to kill each other over her was sort of an ego boost. She couldn't let this go too far. She got up and ran.

---

Constance returned just in the nick of time. Bordon had just launched himself at Fife and had begun to pummel the little man when the rustle of skirts caught everyone's attention.

"Evening, gentlemen," she chirped with a curtsey to the stunned Captain Bordon. "Oh dear, what's this?"

"We, um, ah" the lieutenant stammered. Bordon dropped his fist and gawked at her.

Constance wrenched Bordon up by the arm. "You boys. Children, we must be able to play nicely together. Mr. Fife, please get up before I have to get my brother in here. He will not be pleased."

Tobias Fife climbed to his feet and brushed off his breeches. His eyes narrowed on Bordon, who was now straightening out his jacket. The captain was humiliated, crossing to the very farthest corner of the tent and seeming to melt into the shadows.

"I can ignore the fact I saw this, you two," she warned, wiping at Fife's bloodied lip with her handkerchief. The lieutenant sent a mocking look to his superior. "Captain Bordon?"

He pretended not to hear. Constance walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his eyes to hers, then looked away in shame. Whatever chance he may have ever had with her, he knew he had just lost. She lifted his chin.

"Are you all right?" Her tone was soft and maternal, and her eyes were wide.

He nodded, but his visage expressed that he did not wish to go into depth.

"Very well then," she sighed, seeing he was alienating himself. Their eyes met again for a moment, and he squinted in recognition. No, it couldn't be. Constance rose from his side, then bent down and kissed his forehead before she exited as suddenly as she had appeared.

Fife's jaw dropped as she left him with only her handkerchief dabbed in his own blood.

Next chapter: Constance vents to her brother.