Perfect Duet's paid account and the Oakum Meme (II)

[esteven]

Some lovely person was so kind to gift perfect_duet with two months of paid time. Whoever it was, please pm me, so I can thank you properly. :D The gift makes the Oakum Meme so much easier because it brought the subject headers back.

So, once more onto the breach:

Here at this post you will find all prompts/requests we have so far received on LJ and on DW

Comments

Re: 007 - physician - naval officer - spy - oh my (1)

[anonymous]

Please note that this fic contains excerpts from MC and TGS, The quotes are in italics and, like Jack and Stephen, belong to Patrick O’Brian

Even in the dark Stephen would not have missed this path. It wound up, crossing and recrossing the stream, its steps kept open by the odd fisherman after crayfish, the impotent men going to bathe in the pool and by a few other travellers; and his hand reached out of itself for the branch that would help him over a deep place - a branch polished by many hands. Up and up: and the warm air sighing through the pines. He watched the boats below for a while and then sat down by a great stone. The friend had been a mere pretext for this retreat into the country.

He smiled; the conversation with Aubrey about fresh water had offered him the perfect opportunity to leave the ship for a few hours without arousing suspicion. Not that he had anything to hide, but Sophie was small and cramped and he had been missing the wide open spaces and the solitude of the countryside for some time. The commander had assumed that he wanted to go ashore to pay a visit to a buxom female. Aubrey may have looked aside to hide his grin, but Stephen had seen it nevertheless. His smile faded when he remembered the concern in Aubrey’s voice. It still touched him to be so valued, and he had hastened to add that he would present himself the next morning, or the morning after that - a whole series of mornings, if need be.

Stephen also remembered James Dillon’s harsh words about the short way from prize-money to breaking bulk and plunder, thereby misjudging Aubrey so completely. Stephen had defended the captain, but his friend had talked on and on about discipline, as if he did not wish to hear one good thing about the commander of Sophie.

He could no longer make out the sea below and he realized only then that dusk had fallen and turned the pines into mysterious shades. They were the ever-present guardians of the country and Stephen knew them well. They had often provided shade on his walks across the country. He got up, absentmindedly brushing at the seat of his breeches, and breathed deeply before setting out to find some shelter within the remains of the Roman villa.

A little after sunrise the next morning, and the next and the next, he walked to the beach at the agreed time, but there were no boats, no Sophies, and most of all, there was no Jack Aubrey. Stephen hoped that nothing untoward had happened to the little ship which had been his home for some time. How easy it had been for him to get used to the company of others in the past months! He felt strange as he walked from the beach towards the path. Only a few days ago he had been glad of time alone and without Naval discipline, and now he missed the Sophie and her men.

He slowly made his way to the ruin, turning now and again to scan the horizon for the sloop, but to no avail. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a big flattish stone with a number of scratches lying to the side of the path. He picked it up, squinted at the lines undoubtedly carved with a knife and made out Regrediar, a date and the initials JA. It was a shame that he had missed j the ship’s party, but the short message was a sure sign that he had not been forgotten. Stephen turned the stone this way and that, unable to fathom why Jack Aubrey had felt the need to leave the message in Latin.

I shall return; these words, holding the promise of friendship and a future in which he would not be alone, brought a flush of pleasure within his bosom. He again remembered their conversation about fresh water. Admittedly Aubrey had not looked his best then, had really been a disagreeable sight, for the left side of his face, head and neck was still seared a baboonish red and blue, it shone under Stephen's medicated grease, and through the grease rose a new frizz of yellow hair; all this, taken with his deep brown, shaved other cheek, gave him a wicked, degenerate, inverted look. But his eyes had been as blue and brilliant as they always were and J.A. possessed such a singularly sweet smile when he was delighted.