sunburned | (no subject)

And perhaps Granby's cheeks do colour at that, a touch at that. He raises his glass in a toast before he sets it down.

"As far as I know," he says. He's aware of the so-called ITF, though he has no interest in serving with it. "Still, I'm sure could press me into service. I can't promise to be any good, of course."

"I daresay I may have seen more able recruits, but none that I trust more," Laurence replied, smiling fully now. As a matter of fact, he had seen far less capable recruits than Granby many times before -the naval press gangs being less than choosy when times were hard and manning was low- and he would have never put Granby remotely near that category of men.

"Would you be willing, then?"

"And you can use me one-handed then?" he asks, which isn't exactly a 'yes' but definitely isn't a 'no', either. Because Laurence knows exactly what will follow, and Granby doesn't have to say it.

"I suppose there must be fellows must worse off already on ships?"

"I am certain that it will prove no great impediment, John."

Or so Laurence could only hope. It was always a shame when a man lost a limb, but at least it was better than losing a life and Granby at least seemed to be adjusting to it with ease and and good grace.

"I'm sure I'll make do," he says, grinning now. And, honestly, he cannot think of a better way to spend his time than pressed into service by Laurence, especially if it makes him smile. "And will I be required to call you 'Sir' again?"

"Only if you must, John." Laurence was still smiling even though he knew full well Granby's history regarding the term. "We are both of the same rank in any case."

He didn't exactly have the best history with the word where Laurence was concerned, although his insubordination had made up a relatively small fraction of their relationship.

"Surely you'd outrank me on a ship? In terms of capabilities, if nothing else. You've seen me at sea."

He had seen Granby at sea and he quite distinctly remembered the injury that had caused the eventual loss of his hand. So for a moment or two Laurence wisely said nothing before continuing. "I am certain you would be fine aboard the one of the ships available here."

"With limit possibility of disaster, you mean," says Granby and then he's still for a moment, his hand wrapped around his glass because, sometimes, Granby wants to touch Laurence so much that it all but kills him.

"I'd love to try it, if we can find you a ship to Captain."

"We may yet," Laurence said somewhat hopefully. He had seen the ships already sailing island waters. Surely they must have come from somewhere or someone and surely he would be able to get one eventually.

"While I, on the other hand, appear to have decided to become a clerk," he says, with a little sigh and a definite roll of his eyes. "Though I don't suppose I should be much use to Helen otherwise. The only animals I've a fair understanding of are dragons and there's only one of those."

"But if you were to be pressed aboard a ship I'm sure your employer would relieve you of your clerical duties for at least a time," he said, smiling as he spoke.

"Are you proposing rescuing me from Helen?" teases Granby, grin broadening again. "I'm sure she could be negotiated with."

Laurence took a sip of his beer, his eyes happy over the rim of the glass. "Have you need of rescue, then?"

"If you have need of a damsel, I suppose I could play the part," says Granby, rolling his eyes, but still grinning, reaching for his own glass. "And a man with my hand always needs rescuing."

Laurence laughed, more at the first part of Granby's speech than the second, though he wasn't certain he was meant to. "If you truly do have need of rescue then I hope I am always able to help."

"Who else do I have?" asks Granby and in that sentiment, at least, he is genuine. "We've always muddled through before."

"That we have." Laurence put his hand quite carefully atop Granby's. "Thank you for that."

It's only a small touch, a casual touch and one totally acceptable between friends but it still quickens Granby's pulse a tiny little bit. He glances at their hands and then back to Laurence.

"What else am I to do?" he asks, smiling. "I've got to make up for being such a terrible scrub at the beginning."

"You have more than made up for anything in the past," he replied, well aware that he himself was not entirely without blame in those early days. Neither of them had necessarily been at their best. And now here they both were. Laurence blushed a little. "I hope I have as well."

He nods, his thumb grazing against the length of Laurence's, the barest shift of movement. He notes the blush.

"A hundred times over."

Laurence smiled at that, his blush deepening. He let the contact remain for another moment or two before pulling his hand back and taking another drink. "Thank you, John."

He's grinning himself, flushed under the sunburn, and he rubs the back of his neck before he reaches for his drink.

"You're welcome, Will," he says. "I'd have stayed with you and Temeraire forever, if Iskierka hadn't come along when she did."

"I am certain Temeraire would have found that arrangement entirely to his liking," Laurence said with a fond smile, still missing the dragon desperately, but willing and able to talk of such things. "Though I would not have had you forgo rank simply to remain in my crew."

"He didn't like to share me overmuch, did he?" says Granby, remembering the conversation that they'd had around the time that Iskierka had hatched.

"I wouldn't have been doing it just for you," he says, quietly. "That would have been only a part of it."