Chapter Text
Time had passed since the Captain had, seasoned by combat and seasalt, returned to English shores. As far as his higher ups were concerned, he’d had more than enough time to reacclimatise and reset. But concern was a means more tightly rationed than the essentials, and this bout of tiredness was something Theodore couldn’t quite shake. It had seeped into his very bones. A dense quagmire, determined to submerge him in its depths.
And, truly, he was in the thick of it.
He was amongst hundreds of men, the biggest military gathering that he had seen in a while. Green bled into olive green, the many denizens of Button House training and interacting, with a sense of affability that had long since remained lodged in the back of Theodore’s throat. Even as he stood amongst them they seemed distant, out of reach. A background noise, destined to remain just outside his eyes’ dull glaze.
He and his men had been summoned to the grand country estate for his men to recieve tutelage on the maintenance and care of Churchill Tanks, the higher ups choosing to specialise them again for the umpteenth time this year. He would have complained, had it not been a good sight cheerier than the combat training they had received. At least they could receive their instruction somewhere with fair scenery for once. But no amount of natural beauty could assuage the work that needed to be done and, unfortunately, being a Captain meant more than just watching demonstrations of tank locomotion.
The clock struck eleven, signalling the other duties that Theodore had to attend to. He excused himself from the room quietly, so as to not disturb his men. Their focus was on the tanks alone, and Theodore would loathe to drag them away from it. It was enough of a shame that he had paperwork to take care of. He would slowly trex through his piles of reports, requests and God knows what else, giving each the attention required, signing dutifully on the dotted line. The unread notes he had received from the lecture no doubt calling to him as he did so. Sadly, they were his last priority, and he would probably have to save them for his bedtime reading. So he hurried away. No attention was spared for the paintings, or the faded wallpaper of the corridors that held them. Best to just get on with things. He could consider devote thought to his aesthetic opinions only when he was off duty.
But the wicked did not rest, and so neither could His Majesty’s forces. One workload was swiftly replaced by another, often dwarfing the size of its predecessor; Theodore was not left wanting for things to do. Not with the careful eye he had to keep focused on his men taking up the remainder of his time. The days bled into each other, fused seamlessly with the fog in his brain. It threatened to overtake him before sleep could and, in truth, was rarely avoidable. Even his best efforts to push on left remnants clinging to his peripherals. It simply became familiar, as all things do with time, and could be stored comfortably in his subconscious. It would have its moment, but today would not be it.
After all, there was still work to be done.
His latest task saw him knocking upon the office door of one Captain Phillips. It wasn't an urgent matter- another unit had received a shipment of specialised pistols destined for his own boys - but he was still responsible for it. And he would be damned if those issue numbers didn’t match up exactly as they ought.
“Captain Phillips?” He demanded, as no answer manifested. He could tell the room was occupied, the ill concealed sound of raised voices made that quite clear, but he refused on principle to reschedule. Theodore did not have the time to return later for an errand such as this! The fact that the other Captain was (in some technicalities) his junior clearly had no connection to his rancor.
“It’s Captain Rosenbaum, I need to speak to you!” His voice echoed through the bustling hallway.
The door swung open just as Theodore was about to knock again, and he just narrowly avoided knocking rather insistently upon Captain Phillips’ lapels. He could not help but notice that his office was a great deal nicer than his own.
“Of course!” Phillips responded. His voice boomed louder than Theodore had anticipated, perhaps on account of the sheer volume of tawny moustache it had to be heard through. He seemed all the world like a rather sullen lion. “My lieutenant was just leaving.”
“Oh, was I?”
Theodore’s head was turned.
To say he’d noticed Phillips’ Lieutenant would be inaccurate, just as it would to suggest the man was imposing his presence upon him. One’s gaze stayed with him despite how casually he propped his narrow frame against the wall, compelled to keep listening despite the light nature of his tone.
His arms had remained folded even as Theodore had entered - an action considered improper at best - and it hardly seemed he’d tried to make his hair presentable. Yet his gaze, fern green and sharp as a whip, had not wavered for any of Phillips’ bluster. His expression became no less steely.
It could not escape Theodore’s attention that he dwarfed both of by several inches. It did not escape Thedore’s attention that he was rather handsome, either, though that was a detail Theodore rarely let slip past him.
“Well,” Theodore said, neatly dispersing the cloud of argument that fizzled between them. “this won’t take long.”
“Then there shan’t be much for me to interrupt?” The Lieutenant served his question with a shrug and a grin. His gaze did not waver. “Do forgive me, Phillips - I’d rather like to hear what Captain Rosenbaum has to say.”
If Theodore were willing to spare much time for little things like amusement, he could have garnered a great deal of it from watching Phillips contend with his outspoken junior.
The Phillips in question, had either man cared enough to ask, could not have said the same. He showed enough complaint through the vein in his forehead; it had been pulsing quite enthusiastically for the past minute and a half and, much like his Lieutenant, had no immediate plans to stop. A more masterly Captain would have sent the man out. As it was, Phillps’ patience was swiftly thinning.
“Oh, for-” Phillips sighed, his moustache fluttering under the force of his sigh. “Do you
need
something, Captain Rosenbaum?”
“Hmm, yes, quite.” Theodore nodded, detachedly. “Your men have been receiving new weapons designated for my division, and while I’m sure more will arrive in time, I rather need them returned. By tomorrow morning, if possible. I’m sure that won’t cause you too many problems.”
“All the boxes we received were labelled for my division I’m afraid, Captain Rosenbaum. I can appreciate that your division may be in need of proper arms training, but specialised units shouldn’t expect priority treatment here. If you think there’s been some sort of mistake I’m afraid you need to appeal higher up.” Phillips responded with relish, and all the airs of a man who cared far too much about interdepartmental politics for Theodore’s liking. The Lieutenant’s, too, if his unrestrained eye roll were anything to judge by. Smarmy little man.
Theodore bristled. “Well, if you can explain to me what on earth your division would want with non-standard, Royal Engineer issue handguns, I’d be happy to leave the issue in your capable hands.”
“Phillips, I hate to ask this in front of our new Captain.” The Lieutenant intoned. He was nonchalant despite his grin, having stood to his full height, and meandered his way over to Phillips’ desk. “But did you read the entire label?”
Phillips shot his Lieutenant a truly venomous look.
“Only,” He continued, coming to loom absently on the outskirts of the exchange. ”there’s been an influx of new divisions as of late.”
“I suppose there may have been some mistake.” He turned to Theodore, giving his back to his amused junior. “Though it’ll need time to be properly verified.”
“A lot more technicalities to look over,” The Lieutenant continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted. His tone was sharper, now. Had there been any pretences of patience before, it had certainly been lost. “and resources to allocate, Captain. I’m sure nobody would want to see this division refusing to cooperate with our lot, Captain . It’d look rather ugly, don’t you think? Captain.”
Theodore glanced at him, glad that his moustache concealed his deep desire to smirk. Good lord, the man was impertinent, but pleasingly so; it was of great personal benefit to his standing. He was only glad he had no obligation to reprimand the man.
“Dixon . ” Captain Phillips spat, looking rather red in the face. “Stand down. Should I need your ‘input’, I’ll ask for it.”
“As I was about to say,” Theodore cut in. “I’m sure there’s no need for any inflammatory accusations. I’ll receive those guns back first thing tomorrow, I’m sure.” He smiled, with all the air of a man making a veiled threat and getting away with it, which seemed to amuse the Lieutenant more than enough.
“Of course.” Phillips replied. “I’ll have Lieutenant Dixon see to it personally.”
“As you wish.” Lieutenant Dixon gave a salute cheerful enough to seem uncharacteristic. “My pleasure, even. I can certainly make sure everything is being run properly!”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Theodore nodded at him, accepting his salute. It should be rather enjoyable to have him around, provided he himself was not in receipt of the man’s ire. “I’m sure we can coordinate everything between us. Now since that’s settled, I’ll intrude on you no longer.”
He glanced around with satisfaction at the two men he was leaving behind as he opened the door back to the corridor. Behind Lieutenant Dixon’s head a clock could just be seen on the far wall, slipping quietly past the mark of twelve. “Good afternoon.”
He closed the door behind him and strode away triumphantly to the beat of heated conversation reigniting in his wake. For the first time that day, he looked outside, and noted to himself the sunlight that radiated in. It was, on measure, a lovely day.
Dinner was a grand affair, and it owed that entirely to the room it was held in. The place felt fit to serve a King. A feat it had once achieved, if the Lord of the house was to be believed. Light walls and rich, wine red curtains made the space feel much larger than it had any right to, the York stone floors giving it a slight medieval flair. It could almost make one nervous, wondering how long it could take before a careless private might mark the paint, or scuff one of the whitewashed pillars that framed the room.
Alas, needs must, and such niceties were ignored in the wake of utilising every spare inch one could. Benches took leg to leg, crammed in tightly amongst mismatched tables and dining chairs alike. A separate space was set aside for all the officers, though some preferred to mingle, mixing in with privates and a few warrant officers dotted about the place.Theodore himself preferred to take meals in his office where he could, but work had gone abnormally quickly that afternoon; there were precious few reasons to keep him there tonight.
The packed dining hall made him feel ever so slightly anxious. He had too much choice, and too few friendly faces looked back at him. Just officers with whom he had only a working relationship, or his own men, upon whom forcing his own company would feel unkind and a trifle desperate. It made him wish all the more that a few more of his contemporaries had survived the retreat from France. If he were a man like his Freddie, he would not have devoted a single thought to such a little matter, but he was not, and never would be. He regarded the somewhat watery dish of stew and bread in his hands, and made a slow approach to the officers table, silently wondering if it was too late to retreat.
Two corporals got up from the table together, still engrossed in conversation and Theodore made for the empty space, the desire to sit alone calling out to him very strongly.
As fate would have it, there was one voice stronger to capture his attention.
“Captain Rosenbaum!” A swift glance over revealed it to belong to that Lieutenant Dixon. He bore a lopsided grin, one far warmer than the one he’d donned last, and made a welcoming gesture to the empty seat across from him.
Theodore would take that invitation very gladly indeed. With one final look to the officers’ table, he changed course, sitting himself down unobtrusively between two men engaged in different conversations. He came face to face with Dixon once more.
“I’m usually far less defiant.” He stated. It was as though no time had passed since their previous encounter. “ Well .”
The man to his right snorted, and Lieutenant Dixon made a face.
“Lay off, Collins - what I mean to say, is that I am perfectly willing to follow decent orders. I do my job well. Should be able to see everything runs smoothly on your end soon enough.”
Theodore nodded. “I’m sure you’ll have everything running shipshape.”
“Naturally.” The Lieutenant offered his hand. “Oscar, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here until today.”
“I’d be surprised if you had.” Theodore admitted, with some vague trace of humility. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to come down in person.” ‘Nor the inclination’, he omitted to say. Ah, but where were his manners?
“Captain Theodore Rosenbaum.” He responded, shaking Oscar’s hand over the table, feeling it firm and cool in his own, and without the need to make the greeting into a power play with use of force. A good thing too; Theo would hate to have gone through all this to spill his fish stew.
“Well it’s excellent to officially meet you, Theo.“ He replied. This newfound nickname manifested easily, as though he’d been introduced by nothing else. Oscar sat back a little, wincing in time with the slight bang that came from his end of the table.
Theodore raised an eyebrow at how quickly he’d been demoted from ‘Captain’ to ‘Theo’ and, while he wasn’t quite officious enough to complain about it, it certainly took him by surprise.
“And you too, Dixon.” He agreed, making a somewhat last ditch attempt to keep the barriers of rank in place between the two of them. He regarded the man, noting the ease with which he sat, bashed knee excluded, and the familiarity with which he seemed to speak to just about everyone. “How long have you been stationed here?” He asked, with something between politeness and an urgent need to explain the informality.
“Since the end of last year. Around Christmas time, actually, my Ruth was delighted. And exasperated, actually, but I still maintain that it was undeserved. ” Dixon idly picked at his food as he spoke, periodically gesturing with his fork to illustrate a point. “She should really know what to expect from me, after all”
The more that Dixon spoke, the more soft his expression became. The smile brought forth was the type that took the entire face to make.
“I would ask you the same, Theo,” he continued. “But I was there when you all arrived.”
“Indeed.” Theodore was watching Dixon’s hand now, having gained an awareness of the little golden band around his ring finger, light reflecting off the inset writing. Oscar fiddled with it as though in response, unconsciously using his free thumb to twist it back and forth. It was clearly worn with a great deal of love. “We’re set to stay here for a month, perhaps more depending, so I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”
“I’m set to stay here indefinitely, so I daresay you shall. That is, unless I finally do reach the end of Phillips’ wits.” The mention of his Captain’s name came with a very automatic, very heavy roll of the eyes.
“Good lieutenants are hard to come by, he should know that.” Theodore snorted, after making thoroughly sure that Phillips was not at dinner with them. “More fool him if he forgets. Getting new officers trained is a nightmare.”
“Oh, he’s extremely aware.” Oscar grins. A new glint comes to his eyes. “Not in the least because I often remind him. I daresay my being a good Lieutenant is the only reason I’m still in the army at all.”
He chuckled, as though sharing a private joke with himself. “If I’m to be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure how he made Captain in the first place.” Dixon then leant forward some, his voice lowering just a touch. “Have had worse, though.”
Theodore stiffened, as he realised how quickly they had fallen into dangerous talk. The sort of thing he would have reprimanded any of his boys for, had he heard them. Though he supposed that such concerns should be arranged when they were truly had. Still, he was almost bewildered to hear it from a man he had known so little time.
“You don’t rate his abilities very highly then, Dixon?” He asked cautiously.
“He has a rather narrow view, when it comes to looking at the bigger picture.” Oscar replied simply, a rare show of diplomacy in his words. “I shan’t speak too ill of him to another Captain. Consider it a warning from a friend - I doubt this will be the last time he’ll take issue with your lot.”
“Yes well, we Sappers are used to that.” Theo said. So was he. “Still, I appreciate the warning. I daresay where I can, I ought to go through you instead?”
“Your words, not mine.” But the glint in his eye made it clear that he agreed. “I’ve been told I’m not to get in too much more trouble where I can help it.”
“By your Captain or your wife?” Theo ventured, with something of a smile.
Oscar chuckled. “Both.” He shoots back. “Though I did promise I’d listen to my wife. I can happily ruffle the feathers of a Captain or five without batting an eye - but I’d sooner saw off my own thumb than actively upset her.”
“Clearly she outranks them.”
“In my book, easily.” Oscar reached into his left inside pocket, fishing out a photograph that he passed over eagerly.
It was carefully preserved, folded once neatly through the middle. It held the image of a plump woman, her dark waves of hair pulled carefully back. Her posture was impeccable, but her expression had broken into a loving grin. She had incredibly kind eyes.
“That’s her.” Came the eager commentary. “My Ruth. You can’t tell me you’d have the heart to say no to that?”
Theodore’s hand instinctively reached up to his breast pocket, the pocket that he knew carried a little photo of his own. He placed his hands firmly upon the table.
“She looks…” He searched for the words. She looked lovely, and pleasant and graceful but he never found he had the right words to use for women. As luck would have it, on this occasion he didn't need them.
“Ah, don’t let him get started, Sir.” The same man from before, Collins, chose this moment to interject. “He’ll talk all dinner if you let him talk. Did the same thing yesterday an’ all..”
Oscar frowned, half startled, the tips of his ears reddening.
“Lay off, Collins.” He huffed, giving the man a friendly elbow in the side. “If you had a woman, maybe you’d understand.”
“Hey, I have a girl!”
“Not like her.” Oscar pointed out, with all the loving conceit of a man utterly devoted. He held out his hand, gesturing for Theo to return the photo to him.
“I- She seems like a truly… capital woman.” Theodore blustered, hoping it was something near the right thing to say.
“See, Vincent?” Oscar shot Collins a victorious smirk. “A man of taste, is our Theo. I knew there’d be a reason I liked him.” Oscar’s attention circled back to him once more. “Speaking of good taste, is there anyone special waiting back home for you?”
“Me?” He said, taken aback. People so rarely asked, and when they did, he could never quite get his answer right. Not because he did not know the words to use, but because he hated them. “No. I’m- I have no... attachments.”
Collins scoffed, apparently unimpressed by the brevity of his answer.
“Quite sure, there?” Oscar teased him.
“I am.” Theodore responded archly. “Quite sure.” Though his heart hurt for it.
Captain and Lieutenant held each other’s gaze. It lasted only a moment, and it was Dixon himself who broke it.
“Alright, that’s your business.” Oscar held up his hands. It was quite the good natured surrender. “I’m sure there’s someone for you, Theo, you seem decent enough. Unlike Collins, here, who seems content to bully me for loving my own wife.”
And with that, Oscar stowed his photo away, laughing in the face of Collin’s latest good natured gripes.
Theodore blinked twice in rapid succession, and a slightly incredulous huff of laugher escaped him. He could scarcely believe it, but he was glad he hadn’t taken dinner in his office tonight.
Throughout the remainder of the week, his office didn’t see a single mealtime. In that time, Theodore came to learn a great many facts about Dixon’s wife - and the odd thing about Oscar himself while he was at it. They were as follows; he did, for all intents and purposes, act more like a captain than his own commanding officer, and half the soldiers in Button House seemed as close to him as a childhood friend might be. Hiis higher ups were a notable exception.
Affable as he was, the amount of time Oscar did find for Theodore was truly surprising. Actually, it seemed an increasing amount of his time was filled by the man, both professionally and otherwise. Perhaps Theodore surprised most at himself, by taking time for the Lieutenant so willingly. It wasn’t how he did things, not usually. Not even when he had been junior enough to have that sort of opportunity.
Theodore had come from his office to the grounds, ready to inspect the new additions to his company. Reshuffles had left him well staffed enough, but there was room for more, as always. He knew what to be ready for, and it had all been explained to him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to relish it. The men he would be receiving (Boys, as they had been called, or Ex-Boys now) were apprentices; strong, fresh-faced and none out of their teens, ready to learn a trade… and fight in a war, sooner or later. His own Lieutenant stood beside him as the jeeps pulled in, looking a little grey about the face himself, but to be quite honest, he had always had a more sickly pallor.
He wondered briefly about how to approach the lads. It might help to come off more friendly, but if he knew anything about himself it was that when he was trying to be kind he had the distinct air of a beleaguered history teacher, something that boys in their teens always seemed extraordinarily strong against. Clearly he needed to be calculated in his approach, lest he find himself as overpowered by his men as some Captains he knew were. Not to name names, of course.
“Ready for them, Newton?” He asked, as if that mattered now. They could hardly send them back, or ask them to just wait in their trucks another half hour while they prepared a better welcoming speech.
“Yes, sir.” Came the rather distant reply.. That was Newton, as reserved and respectful a Lieutenant as a man could ask for. Theodore knew very little about him, save that he was excellent at chess, and it seemed perfectly agreeable to both of them that things stayed that way.
The transports stopped, and the new boys began to disembark, being lined up smartly on the front lawn by a rather loud corporal, who came with them in much the same way that a houseguest might come with an extremely yappy dog. He matched his men too, short enough to fit in with the boys under his command, and clean shaven. Theodore wondered how old he was really, officer or not. Directing the last of the new boys into formation, he scurried up to Theodore, greeting him with a sharp salute as he met his new Captain.
“Corporal Vale, sir! Pleased to be working with you sir.”
Theodore nodded. “At ease, Vale.” Then he stepped forward, regarding his new soldiers, serious and solemn. Done up in their uniforms, some of them managed to look like adults. Most of them did not. Theodore had to be careful- he couldn’t let them unnerve him. No matter what concern he had for them, he could not afford to look weak. Teenagers and soldiers had a rather strong middle ground, in that both of them could smell fear.
“Gentlemen.” He addressed them. “You, like all of us, are gathered here today, to-”
The sound of shouting broke out from the edge of the field, and Theo’s attention was drawn, losing touch with his own sentence.
“To fight for this grand country of ours!” He continued, trying to keep the attention of the men. “And to operate tanks!”
The crescendo of his sentence was cut off again, the angry noises growing ever louder.
The commotion was encroaching rather loudly over his own voice and, for all Theodore’s ability to stay focused, the attention of his men were being rapidly drawn to it. He frowned, lips pursing. Could there not be a single day that ran smoothly? What on earth could possibly be occurring?
Theodore stopped in the middle of his speech, his ear taken by the loud discourse. There was at least one voice amidst it that he recognised - not that it caught him too much by surprise. It was Lieutenant Dixon’s.
“Excuse me. I’ll see to this.” He told his new boys confidently, determined to at least not look like an incompetent history teacher if he truly must be one. “Newton, take them through their new duties.” He nodded to his Lieutenant, who looked distinctly displeased, and hurried off, breaking into a rather fast trot as he pursued the sound of shouting.
“How am I being impertinent when this should be common sense?” Oscar’s voice rang out clearly across the grounds. Theodore had much in the way of prior experience, but this was certainly the most riled that he’d seen Oscar to date.
“How can you be impertinent indeed!” Another voice shot back, louder and a good deal more grating. “These are not your men to command, Dixon! I don’t know what you think you’re capable of getting away with under your Captain-” The man spat. “But when I give an order, I certainly don’t expect to be plagued by smarmy little Lieutenants trying to undermine me!”
“ Plagued by-” Oscar cut himself off, scrubbing a hand over his face as though scarcely able to believe what he’d heard. “I’d love nothing more than to just let you get on with it all. Do you even realise what you’re suggesting?”
Theodore by this time had caught up to the site of their blowout, and was greeted by the sight of Lieutenant Dixon all but surrounded by leering men, fronted by a rather nasty piece of work that he recognised as Captain Brannagh.
“What exactly is he suggesting, Dixon?” Theodore asked curtly, already steeped in a frown.
“That’s nothing to you, Captain Rosenbaum.” Said Brannagh, whom he ignored, looking Oscar full in the face.
“Explosives!” Oscar exploded, truly unable to restrain himself a moment longer. “He wants live grenades to be tested in land we have not been sanctioned to use. That’s people’s lives that you’re risking! I refuse to believe I’m the only man willing to take issue with this.”
“I’m sorry, you what?” Theodore turned, staring at Brannagh incredulously. “Tell me there’s been a mistake.”
“I’d thank you not to interfere with this matter, Rosenbaum!” Brannagh responded to him with a venomous glare, no doubt cultivated over many years of practice.
“ Christ .” Oscar cast his gaze to the sky. A futile gesture, though it seemed to Theo it would do little to hurt his chances of finding someone with sense. “Civilians could pass through at any moment! That’s innocent people, and that’s damn worth interfering for. Name me a single good thing that could come of this, by all means!”
“Lieutenant, it is not your place to question the value of an order when given!” Brannagh continued, unabashed by little things like morality or veracity. He was too busy utilising his authority.
“I think it’s anyone’s place to question an order given when the content of that order is,” Theodore considered his words properly for maximum effect, trying not to let the anger he felt show through too much on his face. “Extremely illegal.”
Oscar took no such liberties. He had long since passed the state of furious, but something in Brannagh’s last words saw his entire countenance change. He was stiffer, darker, the thin line of his lips crafting a palpable shift in the air. For the first time, the Lieutenant’s height truly could be felt.
If Theodore were Brannagh, and thank the lord that he wasn’t, he would be feeling more than a little afraid right now.
“ Captain Brannagh.” He was calm like a fire is hot, and his eyes burned just as intensely. “I became a Lieutenant in under three years, and I didn’t get here because I kept my thoughts to myself. The last man who said that to me followed his orders to a death he’d have otherwise seen coming a mile off, and the civilians here won’t have the luxury of that foresight. Your duty is to serve and protect your country, so fucking act like it.”
The Lieutenant hadn’t raised his voice. Its impact was stronger than any bellow.
“Stand down, Brannagh.” Theodore said, though his words were more to give direction than to command. Brannagh had lost the ability to make cogent thought, flexing and unflexing his fists. “Take all this inside.” He instructed to Brannagh’s men, indicating the crates of thankfully unused grenades.
The men obliged, along with their apoplectic Captain who stomped back inside. If Brannagh knew his fellow Captain even a little, he was aware that Theodore was not the sort to let things slide. Theodore did not know what standing they would receive, but a public dressing down at the very least might yet improve him, even if he did keep his position.
Though, Theodore had more pressing things to attend to right now.
“Dixon.” He said, tapping Oscar gently on the side of his arm. “Come to my office.”
“What for?” Oscar responded, still drawn up into the giant he was.
“Need to get you a drink, old boy.” Theodore responded, an unexpected term of endearment slipping from his lips. It was not even one of his own. Somehow, he realised, Oscar had slipped far past the ranks of junior officer and, despite Theodore’s own distant nature, there was no way he was not firmly established as a friend. After that shenanigan, blood brothers seemed almost the word.
Whatever the term, the offer seemed to be enough to surprise Oscar into normalcy. He blinked, eyebrows raising, and slipped back into the unassuming posture that was his default.
“Old boy?” He echoed, something of amusement to his stature. “I think I ought to be, sometimes. A drink sounds delightful, I daresay it’s the best suggestion anyone’s made today.”
“Thank God for little mercies, eh?” Theo agreed dryly as they made their way back across the lawn to Button House. “I have a little something special, stashed away for emergencies. Seems like high time to break it out.”
A chuckle. “That’s certainly one way of putting it.” He let out a heavy breath and, otherwise lost for more words, Oscar simply settled for giving his friend a worn look.
They turned down the corridor leading to Theodore’s broom closet turned office, which one had to be careful of missing. If it were not for the plaque on the door with his name, it might not have been there at all. Still, it would serve just fine for a drink with a friend, and Theodore unlocked the door, allowing Oscar in first, before following him in and opening the desk drawer that contained an ill gotten bottle of Scotch Whiskey. Two glasses, too, since if he needed it in the first place he most certainly needed the benefit of a cut crystal glass to look at. The privilege of his disposable income.
Oscar for his part, elected to utilise the benefits of being behind closed doors in full force. He sank heavily into the chair opposite Theodore’s. His sitting position was off kilter and his head was heavy, for it sank immediately to bury itself in his hands. He only remained down for a moment, but the respite was deeply needed.
The drink, when offered, was taken with grateful eyes.
“Good work, out there.” Theo raised his glass to his friend before treating himself to a sip, savouring the throaty burn of the drink.
“Someone has to do it.” Oscar took a much larger sip of his own. More of a gulp, to be honest, though Theo wasn’t keeping score, so to speak.
“Quite.” Theodore agreed. “And a painful slog it is. But someone will thank you for it, down the line.”
“If they don’t dismiss me first.” The smile oscar gave was wan, wry. He shifted so as to face Theo a little better. “Do you know, I don’t actually like to lose my temper. Not to the point I get like that. Always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
Theodore nodded, doing his best to look like he understood- he did, but it was not always as implicit as he would care for it to be.
“In fact, I’d quite happily not say anything at all. I just can’t fathom how a man can be so callous, especially when you’re directly responsible for people. I think I’ve only met two men I could call good Captains and you, Theo, are one of them.”
Theodore smiled at him, genuinely taken aback by Oscar’s statement. Touched, too.
“I shall keep doing my best to live up to your good opinion of me, then.” He said softly. “I hope you’d be as angry with me as you would be with anyone else if I did something thoughtless.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t hesitate to be.” Oscar assured him, his tone light. “I put a great deal of stock in doing the right thing, so don’t be expecting yourself to get special treatment, Theo.”
A grin. “But men don’t often step in on my behalf in these things, so I expect you’ll be safe in my esteem.” There was a slight pause, in which Oscar turned his gaze to his drink. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
“Nonsense! It was well deserved.” Theodore insisted, before putting down his own glass, still half full. “Besides, you’re a friend.” He said, hoping the fact that he had gone slightly pink would be put down to the effects of alcohol and not his own bashfulness.
“I am, aren’t I?” Oscar made the questionable decision to finish the rest of his glass in one fell swoop, and set it down a touch heavier than he meant to. “Your good taste knows no bounds.”
Theodore squinted at him. Was he being mocked? Oh, he had set himself on edge with all this unmitigated honesty. He offered Oscar the bottle.
“Fancy a top up? Though I suppose I shouldn’t give you too much, someone’s bound to need your presence sooner or later.”
He simply received a scowl in response, though it was far from directed at Theo. “Brannagh with some backup, hoping to dismiss me I’ll expect. Or perhaps Phillips had gotten himself into another fix. So nothing new, at least.”
“You live a wild and eventful life, Dixon.” Theodore noted, without malice though perhaps just a tad of amusement. He would not laugh at Oscar, but the constant litany of chaos that followed him about seemed like fair game. “Brannagh can’t touch you though, he’s going to be under enough scrutiny for the next few weeks to keep him more than busy. If they come for you, for any reason, I won’t let them.” He leant back in his chair, something of a twinkle coming into his eye. “Besides, you were clearly acting under my orders, eh?”
Refilling his drink, Oscar found himself once again catching Theo’s gaze. He eyed him carefully.
“Yes.” He responded. “I suppose I was.”
There was a moment of silence, then a slight laugh. “I’ll warn you, though, if he’s anything like my last Captain he’ll make a good go of it.”
“All the better for him to see that he can’t get his way for once, what. Still, I hope you don’t get it too hard from the bastard. He’s certainly a nasty piece of work.”
“Now that’s a sentiment I’ll gladly drink to.”
Their little chat was interrupted by a knock at the door. Theodore took a second, placing the bottle and glasses out of eyesight before allowing his own Lieutenant to enter.