Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. If I did, they'd be a lot less repressed *Grins*
Notes: I wanted to do a nice little Norrington/Gillette piece and so we have this little drabble ^_^
Summary: Norrington thinks Gillette needs to relax.
"I don't understand why we are not pursuing them," Gillette said as he watched the Commodore.
Norrington was sitting quite languidly in a plush chair before his office window, watching the Black Pearl turn into a mere dot on the horizon. His feet were resting irreverently on the low tea table before him. A glass of brandy sat comfortably in his hand and was occasionally brought to his lips. Norrington took small sips, swirling the fiery liquid over his tongue before swallowing and letting its warmth settle pleasantly in his stomach. He knew that he shouldn't be so relaxed. He'd just lost his fiancée in a most humiliating manner. The little hellcat had stood between himself and his prey and chose a mere blacksmith over him. And yet, it was as if some knot of tension was slowly easing away from him. Gillette on the other hand, was fluttering about like an agitated humming bird.
"Sir, we shouldn't just let him off like that. Couldn't we at least fire a few cannon shots? The Admiral will-"
"The Admiral is not here Gillette."
"Gillette, don't be so uptight."
"Sir?" Gillette's eyebrows rose as the Commodore addressed him. What had gotten into his commanding officer?
A slight smile tugged at Norrington's lips. "Come here Lieutenant. You need a drink." Norrington held up his own half filled glass.
Feeling quite skittish, Gillette slowly approached, stealing glances at the Commodore. As he reached out for the offered glass, Norrington's other hand came up to grab his wrist, pulling the young Lieutenant into his lap. Gillette squeaked in distress as he landed in Norrington's lap, his hand still caught limply in the Commodore's.
"S-Sir?" Gillette asked shakily.
"Shhh," Norrington replied, raising the glass of brandy to the other man's lips.
Wide-eyed, Gillette obediently sipped the drink. Norrington slowly eased the glass away. He leaned over Gillette, placing the glass on the table before turning back to the man, who was nervously licking the alcohol from his lips. With a smile worthy of Captain Jack Sparrow, Norrington leaned in and claimed the young Lieutenant’s lips. Gillette's body pulled taut, like a sail in a good wind, but as Norrington pressed forward with his kiss, the Lieutenant slowly melted against him. Pleased with his handiwork, Norrington pulled back.
"Yes sir?" Gillette asked, forcing his eyes to rise from Norrington's mouth to his meet his green eyes, which were glittering merrily.
"Relax," Norrington smiled softly.
There we are, feel free to comment ^_^