Taking one's chances
Nov. 20th, 2006 12:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mylodonTitle: Taking one's chances
Pairing: H/A
Rating: PG
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
calavarna, to commemorate our visit to the Mary Rose Museum, where we saw nit combs and traumatised ourselves.
No claim made on or profit made from these characters.
Taking one's chances
"One. Quite a big one. Two - no, three. All of them absolute beauties."
"Must we have a running commentary on this procedure? I don't think we need to keep a log."
"I thought that you'd be interested, you being such a stickler for facts and figures. The exact latitude and longitude, to within a second - the correct time for two rolling broadsides, to part of a second - therefore the precise number of lice. I've given up counting the nits."
Hornblower grimaced. He was happy to submit to his hair being washed with some particularly foul smelling soap and for Archie to be disentangling it with a comb designed for the express purpose of removing Pediculosis capitis from its unwilling host. But he really didn't want to have the gruesome details spread abroad.
"Anyway," Archie continued, "you must have removed many more of them from me when I was in the sick bay. I was long past caring whether I was scratching my head to pieces and I had no reason to be vain of my looks. This is a mere bagatelle compared to that." He drew the comb through the dark hair again; irrespective of what Hornblower thought, Kennedy was enjoying himself. He'd rarely been asked to dress Horatio's hair, even when they were middies together - the man was far too independent to rely on a tie mate. Now Archie had his hands on his friend's head, his fingers running through those adorable curls; all still in the name of comradeship, of course, but a boy could dream...
Horatio squirmed under Archie's tender ministrations - hardly a snag or a tweak he felt, Kennedy being so gentle and caring with his hair, but he was still uncomfortable. It was hard enough being locked in a cell with a man whom you fancied, but when he was actually rubbing your scalp and caressing your temples...."Sorry Archie - did you say something?"
"I asked where did you think you got them, these little visitors?"
"Back in that wretched oubliette, I suspect. Horrid, vermin infested place."
"That wouldn't work, Horatio - these buggers only pass from head to head or so my mama used to say and I have no reason to doubt her. Who have you been tête-à-tête with?"
"No one!" Hornblower's protestation was just too quick and defensive - as if he was desperate to assure his fellow officer that he had not strayed willy-nilly into any particular arms.
"Well it's not me - I've been clean for ages." Kennedy waved the nit comb. "Been using it regularly, like a good boy." He did not have clear memories of all his time in sick bay, but the occasions when Horatio had stripped, bathed and re-dressed him, washing his hair and carefully removing every parasite from his sandy mane, were vivid in his mind. It had been truly lovely and it was fortunate that his weakened condition had not allowed his true feelings to manifest themselves physically. He'd enjoyed every minute of it, though - like now, these were stolen pleasures.
Hornblower suddenly rolled his eyes. "Mr Bowles."
"What about him?"
"Back on the Indy, before we returned here - we were looking at some charts together, so that we could avoid the rocks on our journey back in the cutter. Our heads were very close - and I remember now he'd been scratching his scalp with the end of a quill as we talked."
"Nice present he gave you to bring back. Don't feel that you have to share it with me." Archie grinned. "Six Horatio - and I suspect that's the end of the adults. Just these little clinger-onners to get at. Think we're winning, although it would be so much easier if your hair were a lighter colour."
"I shall see what I can acquire when we're next home; I'll dye my hair so it resembles yours in the height of summer if you wish." He happily remembered how it felt to tend to Archie's locks when the roles had been reversed; it had indeed been easier to pick out the vermin against Kennedy's lighter hair, paler skin. Hornblower would have happily performed those duties every day for a year, sitting on the bed, towel on his knees and a glorious dark golden head on the towel. It was very bliss to be able to touch the hair that he admired, the skin of the man he adored. It was painful, too - to be so close and not to be able to proceed further - but he would not have balked at the chore and once Archie's scalp had been entirely cleared of parasites, Horatio had missed the closeness. He had another unexpected thought. "Where did you get them from, then? There were no other prisoners in here when we arrived." He realised too late he'd said too much - alluding to a painful time for both of them and implying that Archie had been perhaps too close to his captors.
Kennedy was in too good a mood to be bothered. "After I'd been incarcerated in that hole, Masseredo thought it would be good for my soul to receive visits from a monk who was passing through. Pleasant old chap he was, but a little too literal with either mortifying the flesh or being kind to dumb animals. He was absolutely crawling, Horatio - rather like Thomas Becket or St Francis or both - and as nice as it was to discuss Thomas Aquinas' pinhead angels I could have done without the hearty embraces that let our little pals wander from his locks to mine."
"I thought all monks wore tonsures?"
"His had got a bit long during his wanderings - some sort of pilgrimage to atone for unnamed sins. Anyhow he planted the seeds of a zoological garden in my thatch." Kennedy concentrated on a particularly difficult patch of nits behind Hornblower's ear.
"I'm glad they're just on my head." Horatio shivered to think of an all round infestation.
Archie started to laugh, a sound that was less incongruous in their little cell than it would have been months previously - since his return from the Indy, no matter what that had cost him, Kennedy had been in excellent humour. Being alone in a cell with a chap you could cheerfully snog at the drop of a hat - or indeed any item of clothing -made an enormous difference to one's outlook on life. "My papa used to know an Admiral who got completely infested - head to toe - in a house of ill repute in Provincetown."
"You'd have thought the man would have had more sense than going after loose women at his age."
"Wasn't a woman," Archie gently persuaded a clinger-on to let go of one of Hornblower's curls, "it was a young man that caused all the problems. Now don't jerk your head like that - you know it'll hurt."
"A man? A male doxy?"
"Didn't you know they exist, Horatio? They may not be as obvious as those girls at Portsmouth, winking their eyes and jiggling their accoutrements, but they can be found."
"But he was an Admiral. How could he?" While the whole situation gave Horatio a glimmer of hope that he could at least talk to Archie about such things, his sense of duty made him honour bound to register his disapproval.
"Well, I don't think that all romantic inclinations stop when you get a second swab on your shoulder. Life in old dogs yet as they say." He wiped the comb carefully on the towel Bowlesy had sent them back with - a more welcome gift than his other one.
"But the Articles, Archie - how could he break them?" Horatio's voice was almost a whisper as he attempted to speak of such sacrilegious stuff.
"Mr Hornblower, you'd be stunned at how often the Articles get bent and twisted to suit people's purposes. And quite rightly at times - there are occasions when one's heart and conscience should taken precedence over the letter of the law." He ran the comb through his friend's hair once more. "Think that's enough for now. Three more times and you'll be as pristine as a bride coming to the altar."
"You use some very odd metaphors at times." Horatio was feeling rather unsettled by the whole conversation, especially the radical notion that one could break the Articles legitimately.
Kennedy continued his cleaning of the comb. "That's because I have a noble and romantic nature as opposed to your bold and opportunistic one."
Horatio smiled - three more lots of having his hair fussed over would not just be pleasant in themselves, but they'd allow some more discussion with Archie about what circumstances might allow for the bending of an Article or two. That might itself lead to a chance for him to show his bold nature. He'd already demonstrated his ability to make the most of his openings back on the Indy when he'd noticed that Bowles had let his head become infested - the things were obvious against his greying hair. Horatio knew that there was no guarantee that if he manoeuvred his head close that one of the little bits of livestock would leap across, but luck had favoured him and his plan had succeeded beautifully. And he had ended up with his head on Archie's lap being preened and priddied and purring like a cat inside, just as he had always wanted.
Whether this bold stroke had demonstrated an opportunistic or a romantic nature Hornblower couldn't be sure.
Pairing: H/A
Rating: PG
Notes: For
calavarna, to commemorate our visit to the Mary Rose Museum, where we saw nit combs and traumatised ourselves.No claim made on or profit made from these characters.
Taking one's chances
"One. Quite a big one. Two - no, three. All of them absolute beauties."
"Must we have a running commentary on this procedure? I don't think we need to keep a log."
"I thought that you'd be interested, you being such a stickler for facts and figures. The exact latitude and longitude, to within a second - the correct time for two rolling broadsides, to part of a second - therefore the precise number of lice. I've given up counting the nits."
Hornblower grimaced. He was happy to submit to his hair being washed with some particularly foul smelling soap and for Archie to be disentangling it with a comb designed for the express purpose of removing Pediculosis capitis from its unwilling host. But he really didn't want to have the gruesome details spread abroad.
"Anyway," Archie continued, "you must have removed many more of them from me when I was in the sick bay. I was long past caring whether I was scratching my head to pieces and I had no reason to be vain of my looks. This is a mere bagatelle compared to that." He drew the comb through the dark hair again; irrespective of what Hornblower thought, Kennedy was enjoying himself. He'd rarely been asked to dress Horatio's hair, even when they were middies together - the man was far too independent to rely on a tie mate. Now Archie had his hands on his friend's head, his fingers running through those adorable curls; all still in the name of comradeship, of course, but a boy could dream...
Horatio squirmed under Archie's tender ministrations - hardly a snag or a tweak he felt, Kennedy being so gentle and caring with his hair, but he was still uncomfortable. It was hard enough being locked in a cell with a man whom you fancied, but when he was actually rubbing your scalp and caressing your temples...."Sorry Archie - did you say something?"
"I asked where did you think you got them, these little visitors?"
"Back in that wretched oubliette, I suspect. Horrid, vermin infested place."
"That wouldn't work, Horatio - these buggers only pass from head to head or so my mama used to say and I have no reason to doubt her. Who have you been tête-à-tête with?"
"No one!" Hornblower's protestation was just too quick and defensive - as if he was desperate to assure his fellow officer that he had not strayed willy-nilly into any particular arms.
"Well it's not me - I've been clean for ages." Kennedy waved the nit comb. "Been using it regularly, like a good boy." He did not have clear memories of all his time in sick bay, but the occasions when Horatio had stripped, bathed and re-dressed him, washing his hair and carefully removing every parasite from his sandy mane, were vivid in his mind. It had been truly lovely and it was fortunate that his weakened condition had not allowed his true feelings to manifest themselves physically. He'd enjoyed every minute of it, though - like now, these were stolen pleasures.
Hornblower suddenly rolled his eyes. "Mr Bowles."
"What about him?"
"Back on the Indy, before we returned here - we were looking at some charts together, so that we could avoid the rocks on our journey back in the cutter. Our heads were very close - and I remember now he'd been scratching his scalp with the end of a quill as we talked."
"Nice present he gave you to bring back. Don't feel that you have to share it with me." Archie grinned. "Six Horatio - and I suspect that's the end of the adults. Just these little clinger-onners to get at. Think we're winning, although it would be so much easier if your hair were a lighter colour."
"I shall see what I can acquire when we're next home; I'll dye my hair so it resembles yours in the height of summer if you wish." He happily remembered how it felt to tend to Archie's locks when the roles had been reversed; it had indeed been easier to pick out the vermin against Kennedy's lighter hair, paler skin. Hornblower would have happily performed those duties every day for a year, sitting on the bed, towel on his knees and a glorious dark golden head on the towel. It was very bliss to be able to touch the hair that he admired, the skin of the man he adored. It was painful, too - to be so close and not to be able to proceed further - but he would not have balked at the chore and once Archie's scalp had been entirely cleared of parasites, Horatio had missed the closeness. He had another unexpected thought. "Where did you get them from, then? There were no other prisoners in here when we arrived." He realised too late he'd said too much - alluding to a painful time for both of them and implying that Archie had been perhaps too close to his captors.
Kennedy was in too good a mood to be bothered. "After I'd been incarcerated in that hole, Masseredo thought it would be good for my soul to receive visits from a monk who was passing through. Pleasant old chap he was, but a little too literal with either mortifying the flesh or being kind to dumb animals. He was absolutely crawling, Horatio - rather like Thomas Becket or St Francis or both - and as nice as it was to discuss Thomas Aquinas' pinhead angels I could have done without the hearty embraces that let our little pals wander from his locks to mine."
"I thought all monks wore tonsures?"
"His had got a bit long during his wanderings - some sort of pilgrimage to atone for unnamed sins. Anyhow he planted the seeds of a zoological garden in my thatch." Kennedy concentrated on a particularly difficult patch of nits behind Hornblower's ear.
"I'm glad they're just on my head." Horatio shivered to think of an all round infestation.
Archie started to laugh, a sound that was less incongruous in their little cell than it would have been months previously - since his return from the Indy, no matter what that had cost him, Kennedy had been in excellent humour. Being alone in a cell with a chap you could cheerfully snog at the drop of a hat - or indeed any item of clothing -made an enormous difference to one's outlook on life. "My papa used to know an Admiral who got completely infested - head to toe - in a house of ill repute in Provincetown."
"You'd have thought the man would have had more sense than going after loose women at his age."
"Wasn't a woman," Archie gently persuaded a clinger-on to let go of one of Hornblower's curls, "it was a young man that caused all the problems. Now don't jerk your head like that - you know it'll hurt."
"A man? A male doxy?"
"Didn't you know they exist, Horatio? They may not be as obvious as those girls at Portsmouth, winking their eyes and jiggling their accoutrements, but they can be found."
"But he was an Admiral. How could he?" While the whole situation gave Horatio a glimmer of hope that he could at least talk to Archie about such things, his sense of duty made him honour bound to register his disapproval.
"Well, I don't think that all romantic inclinations stop when you get a second swab on your shoulder. Life in old dogs yet as they say." He wiped the comb carefully on the towel Bowlesy had sent them back with - a more welcome gift than his other one.
"But the Articles, Archie - how could he break them?" Horatio's voice was almost a whisper as he attempted to speak of such sacrilegious stuff.
"Mr Hornblower, you'd be stunned at how often the Articles get bent and twisted to suit people's purposes. And quite rightly at times - there are occasions when one's heart and conscience should taken precedence over the letter of the law." He ran the comb through his friend's hair once more. "Think that's enough for now. Three more times and you'll be as pristine as a bride coming to the altar."
"You use some very odd metaphors at times." Horatio was feeling rather unsettled by the whole conversation, especially the radical notion that one could break the Articles legitimately.
Kennedy continued his cleaning of the comb. "That's because I have a noble and romantic nature as opposed to your bold and opportunistic one."
Horatio smiled - three more lots of having his hair fussed over would not just be pleasant in themselves, but they'd allow some more discussion with Archie about what circumstances might allow for the bending of an Article or two. That might itself lead to a chance for him to show his bold nature. He'd already demonstrated his ability to make the most of his openings back on the Indy when he'd noticed that Bowles had let his head become infested - the things were obvious against his greying hair. Horatio knew that there was no guarantee that if he manoeuvred his head close that one of the little bits of livestock would leap across, but luck had favoured him and his plan had succeeded beautifully. And he had ended up with his head on Archie's lap being preened and priddied and purring like a cat inside, just as he had always wanted.
Whether this bold stroke had demonstrated an opportunistic or a romantic nature Hornblower couldn't be sure.
