Chapter Text
“No games for a week!” Alison declared as she stormed into the kitchen. Mike startled, having been entirely invested in his cereal.
“What did I do?” He asked, genuinely concerned by his wife's anger.
“Not you.” With one arm still gripping her hip angrily Alison pointed to the cabinet the ghosts leaned on, singling out Julian, “ Him! ”
“Oh-ghost stuff.” Mike shrugged off his confusion and settled back into the cornflakes.
“Yes ‘Ghost stuff’. Listen Julian, I think it’s great, well no, impressive-“ she corrected, “that you’re getting stronger but if I wake up one more time to the doors slamming—“ she scrunched her face, the threat still hanging in the air unsaid.
“But it wasn’t me! ” Julian dragged out the last syllable, which didn’t help his case.
“Who else could it have been?”
“Well-ah-how about a new ghost?”
“Is there a new ghost Julian?” Alison asked unconvinced.
“We’ll not that I’ve seen, no.” Julian patted down his tie.
“If I may Alison.” The Captain cleared his throat, “Did you see Julian slam any doors?”
Alison shot him a look that could have killed him again. Shutting the man up before he could even start.
“No games. One week. And if they slam again tonight I’ll make it a month.” Alison turned to storm out, ignoring Julian’s cries of protest as she left.
…
Julian stared out the window. Hopelessly bored. Watching Kitty and Mary run around the garden playing some tag/hide and seek/dance game. He didn’t understand the rules but in all likelihood, neither did they. As they ran off towards the gatehouse giggling Julian wished he could entertain himself so easily. Robin had insisted on saving their daily go with the chess board until after his mouse family went to sleep. Apparently the momma mouse was pregnant.
Once again he wished he had a hobby that didn’t rely on Alison’s smartphone.
“Fawcett.” A confident yet unsure voice sounded out from behind him.
Julian turned slowly. Taking in the sight of the Captain stood so rigidly, practically at attention. Somehow he was even more high strung than usual.
“…Captain.” He acknowledged suspiciously.
“I just wanted to say.” The Captain seemed to look past Julian, as if prepping himself to deliver bad news.” I just wanted to say that I believe that you did not slam those doors last night.”
Message delivered, the Captain nodded, making an effort to turn and leave as quick as he’d arrived.
“Why?”
“Pardon me?”
“Why would you,” Julian pointed with both hands,”be on my side? I’m infamously a man of poor moral repute.”
Quoting the Captain's own words stung both men but it had the desired effect. Putting the Captain on defence.
“I-she-she had no evidence.” The Captain bounced on his toes, punctuating the heal strike with, “None!”
“Ah but you have evidence of someone else!”
“Well-Not quite, I-“
“Then you’re useless to me. Alison will never give me back my games if I haven’t got an alternative suspect.” Julian interrupted.
The Captain stared at his polished shoes. His shoulders were slumped, defeated and not for the first time Julian worried he’d broken the man.
“Julian.” The Captain still stared at anything but Julian’s face.”You discovered your ability quite soon after your death.”
Realization dawned across Julian’s face. Eyes bugging out of his head he launched to his feet.
“ YOU!” He all but screamed.
“Goodness man! Quiet down.” The Captain held his hands up in surrender. Julian settled slightly, gratefully backing out of the Captains personal space.
“Since when do you have powers then?” He asked.
“Well.” He cleared his throat, “Quite a while actually. Do you remember last week when Alison thought Mike left all the cupboards open?”
“ You little rascal. ” Julian was suddenly finding himself extremely intrigued.
“I’m not quite sure how it all comes about.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I-it..” The Captain was waving his hands around like Thorne does, “it seems to be emotionally prompted.”
Julian digested that information, quickly coming to a conclusion only he would find.
“Now, what were you doing last night that made all them doors slam?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh Hell,” He cursed, “will you take this seriously for once?” The Captain blushed but offered no defence to Julian’s innuendo, “I can’t control it and it’s getting more and more destructive.”
…
They’d transitioned outside, far enough past the fence that no one would bother them. And by the Captains insistence they’d done so as if traversing enemy lines. Doging everyone, even Mike, like Button House had been taken over.
“It started with that armoire in the east wing.” The Captain began to explain. “Pat and I were discussing the film we’d watched that morning. He had some asinine opinion that if he’d actually watched the movie—“
He was interupted by a cracking above them. Both men looked up to see a thick branch snap from the old tree that shaded them. It plummeted to the ground narrowly avoiding Julian. He jumped away as if it could even bruise him.
They took turns looking between the branch, the tree, and each other.
“So…the armoire.” Julian braved, purposely stepping away from the Captain.
“Yes. So the armoire…” He went on to explain how the old Armoire had collapsed in on itself as he and Pat argued, then it was how the kitchen cupboards flew open when Pat had run off from him distracted by a song coming from Mikes office, then it was how he’d merely been attentively listening to Pat sing the praises of his wife when Humphrey’s portrait had fallen from the wall.
Julian was clearly the only one noticing a common theme here.
“She was an adulterer!” The Captain scoffed, “Not that you’d have a gripe with that, Fawcett.”
“So…Pat’s always there then?”
The Captain paused, considering it.
“Not every time. Most of them though, yes.” He admitted, “I mean, thinking back, there’s been other events I always attributed to the aging of the house, or simple bad luck.”
“Bad luck?”
“Bad luck.” The Captain confirmed.
Julian could have laughed at how obtuse the old military man was being.
“Sounds to me like Pat can trigger some pretty strong emotional responses from you.” He prodded.
Steeling himself with a deep breath the Captain responded with a shockingly cool demeanour.
“I can admit he is important to me.”
“Just important.”
“Patrick is not just anything. He’s-“ He cut himself off. Julian let him gather himself, shooting a small glance to the tree branches that still swayed overhead.
“He’s my best friend. My right hand man.”
“Just like how Fannys your friend.” Julian faked belief in the Captain words.
The Captain could only nod. Although based on how he clenched the stick under his arm how he felt about Pat vs. Fanny were no where near similar.
Julian wasn’t stupid. The crush the Captain had on Pat was obvious to anyone who paid attention. Unfortunately, it seemed Julian was the only who was at all attentive. As far as he could tell everyone, scout leader included, was clueless to the torch the Captain held for him. It didn’t help that the Captain himself couldn’t admit it to anyone, Hell he barely seemed to acknowledge it himself.
“You know, if you have feelings about Pat that you don’t have about Fanny…that’s alright.”
The Captain stared. Quietly examining Julian’s face. He breathed slowly in and out, cracks from the tree next to them were the only hint that maybe Julian had crossed a line.
For the first time literally ever, Julian was worried that he had said to much.
“Things have changed a lot since I died.” Was all the Captain said.
“They sure have.”
“For the better. Perhaps.” He admitted.
“Perhaps.” Julian repeated, grinning.
…
As they walked back to the house, the Captain was silent. But he seemed at ease. Just as they made to part ways in the entrance he suddenly piped up.
“I think his glasses are cute.”
Julian couldn’t help but grin. The Captains own smile was just as bright even hidden under the moustache.
“You should tell him that.” He suggested.
“No I-“ The Captain laughed lightly to himself, “I don’t think I can do that just yet.”
“Fair enough.” Julian laughed too as he watched the Captain march off. His steps lighter than earlier.
His games may still be off limits but this was certainly entertaining enough.