A/N: I would really appreciate feedback on my characterization of Tavington—I've found that he is an exceedingly difficult character to write for, and I'd realllllyyyyy like to know what you guys think.

Disclaimer: Sadie and her bruised ego/ribs are all mine. Colonel Tavington is not mine, though he wishes differently---

Tavington: I beg your pardon, Madam?

Delicate: You heard me, William.

Tavington: …don't call me that. People will think we are…friends

Delicate: We are friends!

Tavington: I DON'T HAVE FRIENDS.

Delicate: ….

Chapter Two

First Impressions

"This had better be worth my while, Bordon."

The younger officer swallowed nervously as his superior officer stalked past, annoyance emanating from his every gesture. "Forgive me sir—I know the hour is late, but the girl insisted that we …er, fetch you right away."

Colonel William Tavington quirked an eyebrow at his subordinate, a sneer curving his mouth. "And His Majesty's soldiers take orders from women now?"

Bordon flushed and ducked his head. "Yes sir—I mean, no sir—it's just….sir, she says she's Sadie Braddock." A brief flicker of emotion flashed through the Colonel's glacial eyes, but his voice remained impassive. "Indeed. And does she know of her father's whereabouts?"

Bordon gestured for Tavington to follow him down the hallway to where Sadie was resting. "She's been very vague sir—she claims she and her father were being held together, and she escaped sometime yesterday, to help orchestrate his rescue. She also claims to be in possession of certain documents that belong to her father—but she will not relinquish them to myself or any of the other officers, despite our imploring."

Tavington considered this. "And you are inclined to believe her story." Bordon hesitated before answering. "I—I believe she's telling the truth, sir, yes. When we found her, she was very weak—it was obvious she had been out of doors for quite some time, and she's got numerous injuries on her person that would corroborate her story."

"This could also be a very elaborate plot by the colonists." Tavington remarked, and Bordon inclined his head in acquiescence. "It is possible sir—but, might I suggest you meet with the girl? I don't think, after seeing her and speaking with her, you will be able to deny that she is Edmond Braddock's daughter."

Tavington sighed in irritation. "If you are so certain on the matter, Bordon, I hardly see what the logic in waking me was." Bordon smiled ruefully as the two men came to a stop outside of the makeshift infirmary and made to go inside. "My apologies again sir—but the young lady insisted. She says that her father told her to trust no one but you."

Tavington paused, his hand on the doorknob, and glanced over his shoulder at Bordon, his expression unreadable. "Indeed." He said after a moment, sounding mildly startled.

"Sir?"

Tavington sighed and opened the door without further preamble. "Come along then, Bordon, and let us get to the bottom of this."

--

Since the war had started, William Tavington had become what could politely be described as sleep deprived. Less polite company—for example, the gossipmongers that dawdled about Middleton Place, criticizing his tactics and reveling in his victories—labeled him as and insomniac. Unstable, was the common adjective spoken in a hushed voice whenever he passed. To him, they were little more than mosquitoes—irritating, but insignificant in the grand scheme of the war.

Sometimes he felt as if he alone understood the importance of what he was trying to accomplish. Still, the fact remained that Tavington had come to regard sleep as more of a luxury than a necessity, and tonight had been one of those rare occasions that were free of tedious balls, the General's biting reprimands, or a midnight raid on a Colonist's home-- and the Colonel did not much appreciate being shaken awaken to interrogate a woman, even if she was Edmond Braddock's daughter.

Tavington strode into Sadie Braddock's room, consoling himself with the thought that, at the very least, Cornwallis would be have to be impressed by the fact that Edmond had specifically requested his daughter trust only him.

He was unsure what exactly he had been expecting of the daughter of his mentor—Edmond Braddock spoke infrequently of her, and even less so on the occasions Tavington had encountered him after the death of his only son and heir to the Braddock name, Nicholas—the burgeoning war hero that had been the apple of his father's eye. However, her father had painted a rather unflattering picture of his daughter, complaining of her bookish and clumsy ways, and of her insolent and argumentative temperament. Tavington had never pointed out that the girl had probably inherited most of those traits directly from her father—who, for all his military brilliance, could not dance La Volta if his life depended on it, and was the most quarrelsome man ever to fight under his Majesty's flag.

The woman—the girl he encountered once inside the room, was displaying that particular familial trait to its finest extent, in the form of berating the physician attending to her.

"I've told you already that there's nothing the matter with me—oh will you stop fussing! As if I'm going to shatter into a thousand pieces now? Please, I just wish to find Colonel Tavington and --"

"Miss Braddock, I presume?" He queried and the girl whirled around, consternation lining her young face prematurely. Under different circumstances, Tavington might have found her attractive. Not an easy compliment, as he was very particular when it came to his women. This girl, this Sadie Braddock, possessed certain aesthetic qualities that, had he not been dog-tired and already disinclined to be aggravated with her, would have intrigued him.

Batting away the physician's hand, Sadie staggered rather awkwardly to her feet, and regarded him carefully, her tone measured and cautious. "Colonel Tavington?" Her voice was hoarse, as if she had grown unaccustomed to using it.

He inclined his head, "At your service, madam." He intoned, only the barest glimmer of sarcasm coloring his words—he did need this girls' cooperation, after all, and it would not hurt him to be polite to her—for the moment, anyway. Sadie came forward; her rather disconcertingly green eyes studying him carefully. "And…you're going to help me? And my father?" She clarified, wincing at her sudden movement and clutching discreetly at her side, lips pressing together as she attempted to keep from crying out in pain.

Tavington forced a tight smile. As always, agitated with anyone who's line of questioning, no matter how appropriate, impeded his own agenda. "Indeed. According to Captain Bordon, you are in possession of certain documents that might help us in that matter?"

"Oh, of course." She said hastily, a little taken aback, but grateful for the swiftness with which he had gotten directly to the crux of the situation. She pulled two folded sheets of paper from her stomacher and handing them over carefully, as if they were extremely fragile.

He broke the seals and strode over to the fireplace to read them more clearly. An uneasy silence descended over the room, Sadie watching the Colonel with an anxious, pained expression on her face, as if keeping silent was an extreme effort for her.

Tavington offered no verbal explanations for what was enclosed in the documents, and his expression similarly betrayed nothing. He read each document twice, before re-folding them and tucking them into his jacket, and turning to fix his gaze on Sadie. "You have not read these?" Sadie blinked, and glanced at Borden briefly before answering. "Obviously not, as they were sealed." She pointed out, her voice purposely slow, with a bite of the very insolence her father had warned Tavington about in his letter.

"And you had no previous knowledge as to what was contained in these letters?"

Sadie's eyes narrowed and Tavington saw Borden cringe, as he always did, when Tavington's blatant disregard for courtesy became clear. Less than five minutes, Tavington thought, the briefest bit of amusement flickering through his mind at the sight of Sadie Braddock's affronted face.

"I have just said as much, Colonel." She said carefully, and he could tell she was making an effort to keep her temper in check. Tavington considered her for a moment. She looked a complete mess; her hair was in disarray, she was still clutching painfully at her side, her movements were awkward, hindered, he supposed, by a sprained ankle she had sustained in her escape attempt, and there were dark circles under her eyes, belaying the exhaustion that the brightness in her eyes and the readiness in her stance hid.

"Very well then, Miss Braddock—we will be riding out in ten minutes time for Lord Cornwallis' estate—it isn't too far from here. I suggest you ready yourself if you wish to go with us." The girl's face paled at the thought of being on horseback, and Tavington sneered unhelpfully. "You can ride, can't you, Madam?"

Sadie frowned at him, slowly becoming aware that, even if her father had instructed her to trust Colonel Tavington, clearly they were not going to become fast friends. Still, she couldn't let them leave her here, not while her father still needed her help. I hope you appreciating this, old man. She thought morosely, knowing, of course, that her father rarely appreciated anything she did.

"Of course, Colonel. I will be with you shortly." She said, as politely as she could. He nodded and left without further ado, already tired of dealing with her. Borden bowed a bit more graciously and grinned at her in a slightly apologetic manner before scurrying after his superior officer, leaving Sadie alone, with bruised ribs, a bum ankle, and the prospect of several hours on horseback looming ahead of her.

"Fantastic. Just fantastic." She grumbled, grabbing her scant belongings and limping from the room.