Ficlet: The Airship
TITLE: The Airship
AUTHOR: Pearlsie
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Nevah mine. Belong to Disney and whoever does "The Secret Adventures of Jules Verne".
Characters: Norrington, Groves
Rating: G
Warning: very mild x-over-ing with the above mentioned show - this is the result of a few too many snow days. *glances at clock* Oooh! It's about to come on!
Summary: Eh... 700 or so words doesn't deserve a summary
The Airship
“But what the hell is it?”
Norrington squinted at the cramped scribble in the corner of the diagram.
“An air…ship. That’s what I can decipher, in any case.”
Theodore Groves shook his head in disbelief as he inspected the papers strewn across his commander’s desk. Diagrams in black ink, cross-sections of a monstrous ballooned device (if the measurements given were to be believed), and seeming miles of tiny handwriting cluttered the pages in a confused collage. Admittedly, it wasn’t as bad as some ship design papers he’d seen, but at least those had adhered to an understood principle.
“I just don’t get it. It makes mathematical sense but…who came up with these?”
“No idea.”
“You’re not hiding some talent for design, are you, sir?”
Norrington arched an imperious eyebrow at his lieutenant.
“And where would I find the time, Mr. Groves? You know as well as I that I can barely sit still long enough to sign papers, let alone design this… vessel.”
“Airship,” Teddy corrected absently, tracing the bulbous curves of it’s outside. It wasn’t pretty in the least. A distinctive keel and rudder (ignominously labelled as ‘stabilizer’) protruded from the bottom. Severel guns stuck out of a ‘gun carriage’ level along the bottom and the rest…was just plainly unbelievable.
Norrington wrinkled his nose.
“It’s no business being named a ship. The beast is an embarrassment even to a lowly dinghy.”
Teddy chuckled and straightened up. Two swift tugs pulled his uniform into some semblance of ‘straight’. He shuffled the papers together, a small frown marring his usually carefree face. With the papers organized he looked up to see Norrington watching him carefully.
“Where did you get these, anyway?” Teddy couldn’t help but ask. Norrington had summoned him to his office first thing that morning with the bewildering message of “Come now, you aren’t in trouble”.
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I found them. This morning. On my desk.”
Teddy grinned. “Weren’t you here all night?”
Norrington scowled at his lieutenant, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. “If you must know, I fell asleep. When I woke, the window was ajar and these papers were here.”
Teddy’s grin grew broader. “Really James, falling asleep when you’re working? I know someone who would hit me for that.”
Norrington glared and stood up abruptly. “You falling asleep while overseeing the swaying in of a new mast is one thing - me falling asleep in the middle of the night doing God-damned paperwork is another!”
“So you’re saying you deserve more sleep than me?” Teddy’s eyes were wide with innocence. The act didn’t fool Norrington any, though.
“Miserable wretch,” he growled, swinging half-heartedly at Teddy’s head.
Teddy ducked easily, laughing. But he sobered up with surprising speed, and leafed through the papers in his hand, squinting at the bottom corners of the drawings.
“What are you looking for?” Norrington leaned across his desk with a frown, trying to see the sheets.
“A name. Whoever it was might have left a name on one of the drawings.” Teddy’s voice was airy and absent - the tone he got when he was concentrating on something else.
It was still early morning - late enough that the morning chorus had stopped singing, but still too early on for the insufferable heat of Jamaica in July to set in. The single window in the room was still ajar, a faint breeze cooling the stifling confines. It whispered around the room, tugging at shreds of horsehair from a tossed off wig and the corners of long forgotten coat.
“Aha!” Teddy’s triumphant shout broke the lazy miasma of the room. He flapped a piece of paper in his superior’s face. Norrington blinked, trying to focus his eyes.
“See? Right there on the page: ‘Courtesy of Jules Verne’, whoever he is.”
“Some educated bugger with too much time on his hands, like a certain lieutenant of mine, I'd expect,” Norrington snapped at Teddy. “Stop waving that paper in my face, would you?”
“Right sir, sorry sir!”
The commodore glared. “You are too damned cheerful, Mr. Groves.”
Teddy paused in his improvised victory dance, and bowed apologetically.
“Of course sir, my apologies sir!” But he then continued dancing around the room, ignoring the glares of his commanding officer.
AUTHOR: Pearlsie
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Nevah mine. Belong to Disney and whoever does "The Secret Adventures of Jules Verne".
Characters: Norrington, Groves
Rating: G
Warning: very mild x-over-ing with the above mentioned show - this is the result of a few too many snow days. *glances at clock* Oooh! It's about to come on!
Summary: Eh... 700 or so words doesn't deserve a summary
The Airship
“But what the hell is it?”
Norrington squinted at the cramped scribble in the corner of the diagram.
“An air…ship. That’s what I can decipher, in any case.”
Theodore Groves shook his head in disbelief as he inspected the papers strewn across his commander’s desk. Diagrams in black ink, cross-sections of a monstrous ballooned device (if the measurements given were to be believed), and seeming miles of tiny handwriting cluttered the pages in a confused collage. Admittedly, it wasn’t as bad as some ship design papers he’d seen, but at least those had adhered to an understood principle.
“I just don’t get it. It makes mathematical sense but…who came up with these?”
“No idea.”
“You’re not hiding some talent for design, are you, sir?”
Norrington arched an imperious eyebrow at his lieutenant.
“And where would I find the time, Mr. Groves? You know as well as I that I can barely sit still long enough to sign papers, let alone design this… vessel.”
“Airship,” Teddy corrected absently, tracing the bulbous curves of it’s outside. It wasn’t pretty in the least. A distinctive keel and rudder (ignominously labelled as ‘stabilizer’) protruded from the bottom. Severel guns stuck out of a ‘gun carriage’ level along the bottom and the rest…was just plainly unbelievable.
Norrington wrinkled his nose.
“It’s no business being named a ship. The beast is an embarrassment even to a lowly dinghy.”
Teddy chuckled and straightened up. Two swift tugs pulled his uniform into some semblance of ‘straight’. He shuffled the papers together, a small frown marring his usually carefree face. With the papers organized he looked up to see Norrington watching him carefully.
“Where did you get these, anyway?” Teddy couldn’t help but ask. Norrington had summoned him to his office first thing that morning with the bewildering message of “Come now, you aren’t in trouble”.
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I found them. This morning. On my desk.”
Teddy grinned. “Weren’t you here all night?”
Norrington scowled at his lieutenant, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. “If you must know, I fell asleep. When I woke, the window was ajar and these papers were here.”
Teddy’s grin grew broader. “Really James, falling asleep when you’re working? I know someone who would hit me for that.”
Norrington glared and stood up abruptly. “You falling asleep while overseeing the swaying in of a new mast is one thing - me falling asleep in the middle of the night doing God-damned paperwork is another!”
“So you’re saying you deserve more sleep than me?” Teddy’s eyes were wide with innocence. The act didn’t fool Norrington any, though.
“Miserable wretch,” he growled, swinging half-heartedly at Teddy’s head.
Teddy ducked easily, laughing. But he sobered up with surprising speed, and leafed through the papers in his hand, squinting at the bottom corners of the drawings.
“What are you looking for?” Norrington leaned across his desk with a frown, trying to see the sheets.
“A name. Whoever it was might have left a name on one of the drawings.” Teddy’s voice was airy and absent - the tone he got when he was concentrating on something else.
It was still early morning - late enough that the morning chorus had stopped singing, but still too early on for the insufferable heat of Jamaica in July to set in. The single window in the room was still ajar, a faint breeze cooling the stifling confines. It whispered around the room, tugging at shreds of horsehair from a tossed off wig and the corners of long forgotten coat.
“Aha!” Teddy’s triumphant shout broke the lazy miasma of the room. He flapped a piece of paper in his superior’s face. Norrington blinked, trying to focus his eyes.
“See? Right there on the page: ‘Courtesy of Jules Verne’, whoever he is.”
“Some educated bugger with too much time on his hands, like a certain lieutenant of mine, I'd expect,” Norrington snapped at Teddy. “Stop waving that paper in my face, would you?”
“Right sir, sorry sir!”
The commodore glared. “You are too damned cheerful, Mr. Groves.”
Teddy paused in his improvised victory dance, and bowed apologetically.
“Of course sir, my apologies sir!” But he then continued dancing around the room, ignoring the glares of his commanding officer.