And a FOURTH one-shot. The ideas just keep coming. It must be those donuts I ate.

Disclaimer is the same.

Petit Summary: This is just a little fic about the Norrington-Elizabeth-Will triangle sort of thing. Will and Liz are sixteen in this fic... I guess Norrington is about 35 or so. Ugh. Anywho, in order to make his daughter more "ladylike" and to train her to be a hostess, she was told to invite some people to tea. Who does she invite? Will and Norrington. Not really humorous, though...


It wasn't supposed to be like this. But it couldn't be helped.

She had been his best friend since the day he'd been pulled from the cold waters of the ocean. An old playmate, someone he could tell anything to. But, lo and behold, she had grown. And he had grown, too, and he was no longer her friend, really. He knew he couldn't be: he, a blacksmith's apprentice, her, a governers daughter. Not a match made in heaven, to be sure. So he knew it would never work, but he loved her anyways.

He remembered the day he'd realized he loved her. He was thirteen, just a boy, two long years ago, now. They had not played for ages, for both were growing out of their old games. But she came to visit anyways, she always came to visit, and they were talking. Talking about nothing in particular, just chatting, both trying to seem adult, both longing to stop the stiffness. He remembered the way she squirmed and fiddled with her new dress, and how she hated it so, and he realized he loved her.

Now he was sitting here, silent and aching, sipping at the tea. This was hell, to be blunt. He could not talk to her with Norrington about. And most likely he wouldn't see her again for quite some time.

Will sighed. This was terrible.

--

It wasn't supposed to be like this. But it couldn't be helped.

For Pete's sake, she was his friend's daughter. She was only sixteen. He was thirtyfive. Yes, he was her suitor, and that was fine, but he'd gone and done the unthinkable. He'd fallen in love with the damn girl. Blast it all! What on earth was he supposed to do?

He'd realized he loved her when she was fifteen. He'd been visiting her father, and she'd come down in a new dress, less than excited, of course. But he'd fallen head over heels like a bloody fool. His life had come crashing down. Suitors are not supposed to love the women. Men like him, he was never supposed to love. But he did, and it was a fatal mistake.

And that damn Turner boy, he had to be here, drinking tea with them. He noticed the boy seemed irked by his prescence. But the lad had always been smitten with miss Swann. And of course, she didn't seem to notice either of their discomfort. She was too busy worrying that the tea would not go well, and it would not please her father.

Norrington swallowed hard. This was horrible.

---

It wasn't supposed to be like this. But it couldn't be helped.

Why did Will and Norrington look so damn serious? Was it really that terrible? She glared at the teacups for a moment, wondering it the tea tasted awful. This was a disaster. The spoons were dirty, the tea was disgusting, her dress was crinkled and her guests were miserable.

Elizabeth slumped her shoulders in defeat. This was bloody awful.


Hmm, I don't know if anyone got the irony at the end. Basically, Elizabeth is being very petty, concerning over something like a bad tea party. Will and Norrington and sitting there, miserable because they love her. So... she has no reason to be upset, really, because, I mean.. Two guys are sitting there adoring you. *pokes Elizabeth* Wake up woman! You are damn lucky!