Chapter Text
The Captain rubbed the corners of his eyes as the sun’s first rays illuminated the mess he had made on his desk. He let out a long sigh and cleared a clump of dried petals into the bin. Why was pressing flowers so hard?
Sure, it seemed nice in theory. Put the flowers he had gotten from his secret admirer in the books he had borrowed from Havers, then take them out and put them in his journal. It should’ve been easy, he should’ve been finished before 00:00, but no. The flowers had to stick to the paper he had wrapped them with, shed petals and leaves everywhere and refused to stay in his journal without triple the amount of adhesive he had thought he needed.
The whole time he was slaving away at them a little voice in his head popped up, nagging at him that pressing flowers was something that only little girls and old women did and honestly, frankly embarrassing that a man his age was spending time on it instead of sleeping. However, he persevered.
The result was pretty though. The Captain felt genuine pride in it. He ran his hand over a pressed rose. They’d last forever now.
Not that he’d reciprocate his admirer’s sentiment. No, he’d never. But he appreciated the effort he showed and the passion and the tenacity and the…
The Captain quickly got up from his chair and packed up his things. He needed to clear his head. They had organised some target drills for the morning, maybe he could get down early. Pressing flowers had proved to be an effective diversion from thoughts that were…well, less than proper.
He left his quarters and walked quietly through the empty hallways of Button House. It was times like these when only the dull morning sun and eerie calls of the first birds filled the empty rooms that the Captain wondered if the house was really full of ghosts. But of course it wasn’t.
The Captain walked out to the targets that were set up on the front lawn of the grounds, blinking away sleep. How on earth was he supposed to direct his troops in target practice when he himself couldn’t focus? He probably should’ve left the flowers for another time and got some sleep. Although, now he didn’t have something to immediately busy himself with he started thinking.
Two flowers in one day again and a note. In his bedroom no less. The Captain’s face went red at the thought. He had found and read it (despite the god-awful handwriting) when he had returned to his quarters the night before. He was slightly ashamed to say that in his reluctance to deal with the … dreams he had been getting he had memorised the note word for word. It went like this:
Dearest Beloved,
I wish to see your breath hitch and your face flushed the colour of a rose. I want to stand by your side and hold your hand in mine. I ache to tell you to your face all the ways you make my heart flutter. Do you feel the same?
You unravel me. I’ve always been a dreamer, but now I find myself carelessly wandering off with my head in the clouds. Do you notice? Every day and night I drift off into my own world rethinking all the interactions that have happened between us, searching for more, for a sign from you. I think I have found those signs. I think you feel the same. But lately, you have seemed more distant and reluctant to even be near me. Have you figured out who I am and are avoiding me? Or is it that you are avoiding your feelings? I think I know which it is.
I know I may not be your equal and I don’t know what the others say of me, but I want to be the one who whispers sweet nothings to you in the morning. I want to be the one who knows you better than anyone. I want to be yours. Nobody has to know, just us. It is so odd. I am getting reckless. I am finding myself willing to throw away everything I have for you, my job, my relationships and my reputation. Christ, what have you done to me?
Sincerely yours,
A
From what the note said, the Captain was almost positive it was Adam Gibson. He did notice that he was always off somewhere else most of the time and he had been avoiding him. Like the plague.
It’s not as if Gibson wasn’t attractive. He did have nice… hair? He was tall and the note the Captain believed he wrote was beautiful, but he was just… he was strong, yes, but in a sort of imposing way rather than a majestic one. Not in the same way a Greek god is or Havers— no.
He had to stop thinking about him. No, the reason why he was avoiding Gibson was because he wasn’t going to be in a relationship. Especially one of that sort .
But also because Gibson really wasn’t what he was interested in, he was baby-faced, clumsy and twenty-seven was much too young. He didn’t look wise and knowledgeable unlike a certain high-foreheaded officer with a knowing smile and intelligent eyes and-
Nooooo he wasn’t going to start thinking about Havers again.
Anyway, the Captain could’ve read into the wording a bit too much, and besides Gibson was with Miss Nolan. But then again he had heard they fought quite a bit, maybe they didn’t get along as well as he thought they did. Maybe there was a reason Gibson didn’t get along with the young lady…
His foot caught on a lump of grass, grounding him to reality. He took a deep inhale of the freezing morning air. Why was he thinking about this so much? He wasn’t looking for a relationship. Sure, he had certain…feelings towards Lieutenant Havers, but it wasn’t as if he wanted to woo him. However, if that were true why was he now paying attention to every interaction with the man?
He could feel it like it had happened a second ago: Havers’ hand holding his. God, the way his heart leapt when he called him handsome! Good Lord, he flushed just to think of it.
What had he meant by that? Surely not…
No. The Captain shook his head. He had to stop this. Drooling over his Lieutenant, it was beyond disrespectful.
He picked up a rifle, a Lee Enfield Mark III. It was old, but it was all they were issued. A stiff creaky remnant from the Great War that had never seen battle. Sounded like someone he knew.
The Captain needed to distract himself. This… infatuation, if it was even decent enough to call it that, was getting out of hand. He didn’t think he could deal with it, his heart beating faster than whatever could be considered healthy, a constant flush on his face and dreams every night featuring a certain officer.
It was completely indecent.
The Captain huffed and aimed his gun at one of the targets. He might as well get some practice himself before the others arrive.
He stared down the barrel of the suddenly very human-looking wooden cutout. It had no face, it was just a silhouette, but the Captain’s hand still shook on the trigger. What a coward he was. He forced his eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
BANG
The Captain’s shot didn’t even hit the target. It managed to uproot a tiny patch of grass.
“Damn and Blast.” He said aloud.
“Good morning, sir.” A bright voice behind him said.
The Captain jumped.
“Ah, Havers.” He chuckled nervously. “You should really consider joining the Secret Service.”
“Oh, sorry, sir.” A guilty expression passed over the Lieutenant’s face as he walked over. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No harm done.” The Captain replied, rocking back and forth on his toes.
His heart was still beating fast. Why couldn’t he be normal?
A silence passed between them. It was not comfortable.
The Captain cleared his throat after what felt like an eternity.
“They’re late as always.” was all he could think to say. Why was he so tongue-tied?
Havers let out a light laugh, like a willow warbler.
“Sir, you keep saying that when you’re at least half an hour early.”
“Ah…well. I just thought I might get some…” The Captain helplessly waved a hand around. “Practise in.”
Havers smiled gently back at him.
“Please don’t let me interrupt you. Sir.”
What was this? He could’ve sworn that “Sir” had been added on as an afterthought. Did Havers want to speak to him in more friendly terms? He had hinted at it the night before. No, he was looking too deep into it. He had to focus his attention elsewhere! Why was he still doing this?
“Yes, well I’m a little rusty and these rifles, Lee Enfield Mark III…well…” The Captain sighed, hoping he didn’t sound too nervous. He missed the first shot by a long way and he couldn’t have a repeat of that, not in front of his second, especially Havers. No wait…
The Captain aimed his rifle before he had any more time to dwell on that thought. He wasn’t going to focus on the horror of missing in front of Havers or the way the targets were suddenly looking more human and staring at him with pleading looks in their eyes... He pulled the trigger.
BANG
The Captain’s shot grazed the target’s elbow.
“Oh for the love of-!”
Embarrassment heated his ears. He took aim again. He could hear his own heart pounding.
“A bit higher.” Said a soft voice behind him.
The Captain nodded and lifted the rifle higher. He didn’t look back.
“Is that right?”
“No, a bit lower now.”
He took aim again.
“Er…no. A bit to your left. Now a bit higher.” He heard Havers let out a small sigh. “Now it’s too…here just let me…”
The Captain felt two hands being placed on his arms. He suppressed a gasp from leaving his lips and went as still as possible. He could feel the heat radiating off the person behind him.
Havers was embracing him.
“Is this alright, sir?” He practically whispered into the Captain’s ear. “Sorry, I should have asked your permission before.”
“I..er…yes. No..it’s fine.” The Captain spluttered. He tried not to focus on Havers’ breath on his neck. No, he couldn’t. And he wasn’t going to take an extra big sniff of air to see what the man smelled like. No.
Havers gently guided his aim to the right path. His hands emitted a warm heat that seared through the Captain’s uniform. His face grew uncomfortably hot. God, he hoped Havers didn’t notice that his face was growing red.
“Alright, sir.” Havers whispered and the Captain shivered. “Whenever you’re ready.”
With Havers’ arms around him and his mind full of fog, the Captain pulled the trigger.
BANG
The shot went straight through the target’s wooden head. It was alright, it was just a slab of wood. Maybe, it still felt all wrong. No, it felt completely off. Why was he like this?
“Well done. “ Havers said and he stepped away. The Captain shivered, but he wasn’t cold. “That was perfect.”
“Ha…Don’t flatter me, Lieutenant. That was all you.” He replied with a small laugh. His cheeks still burned in the fresh morning air.
Havers smiled at him. God, he was brighter than the summer sun. The Captain couldn’t tell if his legs had entirely disappeared or if he’d collapsed on the dewy grass. He stood still and returned the smile.
Then a group of loud voices made him turn.
…
The Captain wished he could say that the target drills went swimmingly but he'd be lying.
Gibson almost shot Harris. He didn’t even know how he managed that because everyone was standing behind a line. Cartwright made it his mission to constantly complain about the quality of the equipment they were given. Of course, the Captain agreed, the rifles were practically relics, but an officer should never complain in front of the troops. It would bring down morale. Private Jones also thought it would be an absolutely hilarious idea to scare Private Anderson just when he was aiming. The Captain didn’t think he’d seen Havers act so stern. It was oddly… satisfying?
He wasn’t sure whether the women were allowed to train with them in those types of drills or not, but he brought them anyway. If they were really going to fight for king and country then everyone had to do their bit, right?
Ross and Richards both proved to be most accurate in the unit because, Richard said, they both grew up in the country with a family who were avid hunters and were used to guns that were “rusty antiques”.
Well, at least the Captain couldn’t say it was a boring drill and deep down he was a little disappointed when they finished. This was the closest he’d get to action if he was going to be honest with himself. But God help his men if they ever requested a transfer to the front.
The Captain walked over to talk with Havers, but he was already talking with Evans. He let out a small sigh and pretended to inspect the targets while he waited.
What was this? Disappointment? Why was he waiting? He could talk to him later, he had already told himself he wouldn’t get obsessed.
Just then the Captain spotted a flash of olive uniform amongst the trees. His first instinct was to yell at whatever soldier it was who was shirking their duties. But he didn’t. He didn’t because he recognised that waddle of a walk.
The Captain signalled to Havers that he was going to go. The tall Lieutenant nodded and flashed him a smile. Oh, that smile…He turned around as quickly as he could and began to trail Lance Corporal Gibson as sneakily as he could.
Gibson moved fast despite his strides being the most awkward in the world. The Captain inwardly cursed the woods for having so many loud leaves and sticks. The Lance Corporal must’ve been distracted by something because the Captain couldn’t count all the times he expected him to turn due to the sound of a very large snap. Or maybe he didn’t because he was just Gibson.
In his attempt to go unnoticed, the Captain realised that he had fallen behind and had no idea what direction Gibson had taken. However, he didn’t have to ponder for long because the sound of raised voices cut through the serene silence of the wood. He moved toward them.
“You’re not understanding me.” Cried Gibson’s voice.
“No, Adam, you’re not understanding the situation.” A woman? Leslie Nolan?
The Captain slowly moved closer. They must be right at the boundary.
“Just because I want to choose another p-”
“It’s the Captain isn’t it?”
The Captain froze. Every muscle in his body went still.
“What?” Gibson said slowly.
“I know the type of man he is.” The feminine voice retorted. “He’s been saying things to you.”
Type of man he is? Could she mean…
“No! This is my idea!”
There was a long silence. The Captain moved closer, he could now see a glimpse of Gibson through the leaves but his face and the woman he was talking to was still hidden from him.
“You can’t leave.” Said the woman softly. Was she crying?
“Leslie, I’ve got to do this for myself!” Gibson’s voice also sounded a bit shaky.
“You could get shot!” Leslie yelled. The Captain felt the blood drain from his face. There was another long silence.
He knew what was going on here. He had heard all he needed to know.
The Captain cleared his throat and stepped out of the woods.
Gibson quite literally jumped into the air but Leslie Nolan appeared to be too upset to be shocked and gave him a teary glare.
“Captain.” She said in a low voice. The Captain felt a string in his heart snap just looking at her eyes.
“Lance Corporal, please return to your post.” Was all he could manage to croak.
Gibson gave Leslie what the Captain could only describe as a kicked-puppy expression. She shook her head.
“We’ll discuss this later.” She said in the same tone.
“Come along, Gibson.” The Captain said, trying to get his air of authority back. He then turned and started walking back toward the house. He could hear Gibson’s uneven steps behind him.
They maintained silence all the way through the woods, thankfully. The Captain had nothing to say to Gibson. He wouldn’t bring up the letter though, unless Gibson tried to say anything. The way Leslie Nolan had glared at him, all teary and red-nosed with her arms crossed like she was challenging him. Challenging him to take Gibson away from her. The Captain shuddered.
“Sir? Permission to ask you something?”
The Captain stopped dead in his tracks. They were standing in the middle of the targets. What could Gibson want to ask him? What will he say to his advances? He couldn’t possibly report him.
“Permission granted.” He said slowly. He held his breath.
‘Well, sir, I was wondering if I could…” Gibson stammered.
“Yes..?” Come on spit it out man.
“Well, if I could still go to the village dance?”
Oh. The Captain had forgotten about that.
“Lance Corporal, you have ignored your duties to go fraternise with a civiy. I’m not sure that’s good enough form to be able to get that privilege.”
“Please, sir! I’ll do extra duties!” The kicked-puppy expression was back. “I just need to talk with Leslie.”
The Captain eyed him slowly. He didn’t really want the rest of the unit knowing what he knew and keeping Gibson back might get them to start talking.
“Fine, but this is the only pass you’re getting, Lance Corporal.”
“Oh, thank you, sir!” He then smiled a very wide smile. He looked a bit like a frog.
“So…Is that..all? Lance Corporal?” The Captain asked hesitantly.
“Yes, sir.” Came Gibson’s happy reply.
They kept walking back to the house. What was he going to do?