Pairing: Horatio/Archie
Rating: R
Category: POV, angst
Summary: Horatio finds out that sometimes denial can lead to things worse than giving in. (Sequel to "Midsummer Night's Dream.")
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, much less these fine characters (if you know where I could buy them, please let me know *g*). I refuse to make any money off them in any event, so please don't sue me.
Notes: Fourth in a series, after Easy Terms , Precipitate, No Words and Midsummer Night's Dream. Thanks to Cori for reading all 3-4 drafts and to kaly and Ruth for their valuable input as well. And many thanks to Erin and Helen for making sure I at least sounded like I knew what I was talking about when it came to ships. :-)
Spoilers: The Duchess and the Devil


Deception
by Nicole D'Annais
Copyright 2001


I turned the page of my book, mindless of the words printed there. Evenings in the wardroom had always been like home, but since returning from the festival in Winsley, they were a new form of torture. I hadn't read a thing in the two weeks we'd been back, but I'd gone through three books just on pretence.

"More wine, Horatio?"

I looked up at Archie's question. "No, thank you." He put the bottle away and returned to his customary seat beside me while I wondered how late it was and if I could retire yet. If I were to take my leave too early, it would arouse suspicion, which was the last thing we needed. After all, this whole strain between us was to keep us above suspicion in the first place. If I could not act normal, I would ruin any good this suffering was doing for either of us.

Not that Archie had said a word; but then he hadn't needed to. I could read it on his face, see it in his eyes, feel it rolling off him like waves. If anyone else had noticed anything, they had most likely attributed it to settling back into life aboard ship after his time in prison, or perhaps they assumed he was missing a lover from his trip home.

In that last assumption, at least, they were not far from the truth.

Only he had not left the lover behind, just the...intimate relations. Much of our leave at the festival was like a sweet dream, one that visited me every night--yet another form of torture I wished to rid myself of. I had tried exhausting myself before sleep, I had tried indulging in too much alcohol, I had even tried turning in early, but nothing had worked. Each night in my dreams I was tantalised and tortured by the phantom sights, sounds and feels of those nights in Winsley. And from the dark bruises under Archie's eyes, I would wager he had been having similar problems.

We wouldn't have to go to Hell for what we'd done; we were already there.

Lieutenant Bracegirdle rose from his chair. "Well, gentlemen, I believe I'll say goodnight." He retired to his cabin, pulling his door shut behind him, and leaving Archie and myself alone.

A long, uncomfortable silence followed before Archie cleared his throat. "Horatio?"

I closed my book and pushed back my chair. "Yes?"

He blinked rapidly before he slumped down into the chair with a sigh. "Going to bed now?"

"Yes." I knew that was not what he'd planned to say, but then I'd gotten rather good at detouring Archie from any discussion involving any subject that might cause me to waiver in my determination to keep us from...losing our heads. Figuratively and literally.

"Ah, well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Archie." As I shut my cabin door, he was hunched over the table. I hated to see him miserable, but what choice did I have? Better we were both miserable than dead. Not that that helped me to sleep. I lay there, my mind racing to occupy itself with safe thoughts that did not involve Archie in any way.

In the midst of a dream far more pleasant than anything I would allow myself to think of in my waking hours, I woke suddenly to a thump in the next cabin. Archie's cabin. My hope that he'd simply dropped something faded as I heard a serious of rapid thumps. The sound was all too familiar and it had me out of my cabin and knocking softly on his door in an instant.

When there was no answer, I walked in and closed the door quickly behind me, dismayed but not surprised to see Archie on the floor, shaking violently.

He'd not had a fit since our time in prison--at least not to my knowledge. With the growing confidence he'd had since his promotion to Acting Lieutenant, I assumed he'd no longer suffered from the affliction. Perhaps I was wrong.

Then again, perhaps recent events were to blame for bringing the fits back.

I knelt beside him on the floor and took him in my arms, rubbing my hands over whatever parts of him I could reach--soothing myself more than him at that point, most likely, but it was all I could do until the fit passed. At last, the shaking subsided and Archie blinked up at me. He smiled, then his face darkened with comprehension. "I had a fit?" he asked.

I nodded, still stroking his hair and rubbing his arm. "I heard the noise and came to check on you."

"I don't understand. I haven't had a fit since...well, since Spain."

Memories of that fit and the eventual outcome suffused me in heat. I realised my hand had slipped down his chest to his stomach and snatched it back quickly. "Well," I said, trying to ignore the sudden fire in Archie's eyes, "let's get you back into your bunk."

I kept as much distance as I could while I helped him stand. He fell into his bunk, and I brushed his hair back off his face once before I fully realised how close I was to giving into temptation. "Sleep, Archie," I whispered as his eyes closed. One more look, and I left for the relative safety of my own cabin.

***

Apparently there are no limits to Hell.

I sat on the floor in Archie's cabin, waiting for that night's fit. A week had gone by since that first one, and two days ago I'd started sneaking into his cabin after he fell asleep to wait for them to start. He never had more than one, so once it was over, I could go chase sleep myself.

I tried not to think too hard on my reasons for waiting there. I didn't have to be in his room. The sounds would wake me in the next room; they'd never failed to do so. Of course, there was less chance that the return of Archie's affliction would be discovered if I kept the noise to a minimum by being here immediately. If this were discovered, it could ruin Archie's career. And I would not allow that to happen, especially as I felt partly responsible for this current situation.

And then there were the motives I tried to ignore. As terrible as these fits were, they were an excellent excuse to touch Archie. I could hold him, feel his skin warm under my fingertips, and even if someone were to walk in, it would be perfectly acceptable.

It was turning into a sick addiction, and I couldn't seem to stop it.

The bunk began to shake and I hastened to my feet, at his side in a second, soothing him with my touch. The shaking was particularly bad this time, worrying me more than usual until it stopped suddenly, and Archie lay perfectly still.

"Archie?" I whispered. No answer. "Archie?" Just a bit louder this time, but still nothing. I leaned closer, my ear to his nose, listening for his breath.

I felt it warm against my ear a second before he cleared his throat. "Horatio?"

I turned to smile at him in relief that fled the instant I realised just how close our mouths were. Before I could think enough to force myself to move, he leaned up enough to capture my lips with his.

A week of touching what I most wanted, but could not have, exploded something inside me. I pulled him closer, my arms tight around him as I returned the kiss. When I broke free, it was merely to allow my lips to trace the lines my fingers had taken down his throat each night.

Our bunks were not ideal for such activities, but I somehow managed to lean on him without tipping us both into the floor. He pulled my head up until we were face to face again, his hands locked in my hair, and smiled before pulling me into another kiss.

Kisses were wonderful, really, but I wanted skin. My tongue traced his jaw until I found his earlobe, which tasted every bit as good as I remembered.

"Oh, God, Horatio...I thought I'd never...." The hushed words washed over me, meaning slow to follow. "I knew...I knew there was no way you could touch me like that, night after night and not want...."

I was busy reaching for the hem of his nightshirt when my mind caught up. Knew? But he'd never had any recollection of his fits. I paused and looked up at him. "I thought you couldn't remember your fits."

He blinked and looked down at my chest. "Well, no...but I remembered coming to in your arms quite vividly."

I stood, staring down at him, barely able to even think what somewhere in my gut I suspected to be the truth. "So you remember nothing from your fits?"
His eyes met mine for a second before he looked away again. He was a horrible liar. And he knew it. "I remember nothing from my fits."

The truth, but not the answer to the question I asked. "And were any of those real fits?"

"Yes." He looked up at me then, and there was truth in that answer as well.

"Were they all real?"

His silence stretched into an answer in itself. After a moment, I turned and walked back to my own cabin, for once able to switch my mind off completely.

But I did not sleep.
***

I walked the length of the deck without really paying any attention. The Indy had a trustworthy crew for the most part, thankfully. If anyone were to do something wrong, I don't think I'd have noticed. Most of them were used to the solitary Lieutenant Hornblower, and paid me no notice as I stared at the darkening sky and ocean, lost in thought.

I'd thought the nights of dreams had been torture, but they were nothing compared to the four days since Archie's last...'fit.' He'd caught me every time I was alone and tried to explain, but I'd always managed to get away. As if he could ever explain away such tricks.

As if I could explain away the enjoyment I took in 'taking care of him.'

My conduct was no better than his. I had thought he was lying there, suffering, endangering his career, and yet I couldn't help taking a little pleasure in being able to touch him, even if only in an effort to help. Though I doubt I needed to touch him quite so much to 'help.'

Then again, he hadn't actually needed help after all, so what did it matter?

But no, it did matter. What I did was so close to what Simpson had done to Archie...how could I possibly have come to such acts?

Of course, I was quite certain Archie would never compare the two. But to my own reckoning....

In an effort to turn my thoughts away from the endless circle they seemed to be following, I joined three young seamen on the deck. Before I could speak to them, however, as a load of supplies flew over our heads, and we all dropped to the deck. Once it was clear, I jumped up, almost happy to have a focus for my anger, happier still to find that it was Archie in charge of the supplies.

"Mr Kennedy! Perhaps you could take a bit more care with the supplies--you nearly took my head off!"

"I-I...." He glanced at the men working the yard tackle nearby. "I apologise, Mr Hornblower. I was not watching the men closely enough."

"Clearly." I noted once again the deep bruising under his eyes from lack of sleep, and felt a moment's remorse. He was clearly exhausted. "If you are not fit to do your duty, perhaps someone else should be keeping watch over this delivery."

The words came out much harsher than I had intended, and Archie stiffened, pain flashing in his eyes before they went carefully blank. "No, *sir*. I can handle my duty, thank you." He turned his back to me, barking orders to the men and effectively dismissing me without another thought.

~~~

Hours later I was sitting in my cabin, trying to decide if I should apologise to Archie, or at least explain what I had meant. Part of me felt he deserved no explanation. Perhaps if he took the wrong meaning from my unintended insult, he would stop trying to make peace. Part of me thought of that as a relief.

And part of me wanted to drag him into the nearest storeroom and erase that pain I'd seen in his eyes when I suggested he wasn't fit for duty.

I ignored the knock at my door, only to slide quickly off my bunk when it opened anyway. Archie stepped inside and closed the door quietly, his hand remaining on the handle. "Sorry," he said, staring at my feet, "but I knew you were here, and I have something to say that can't wait."

"Archie, I--"

"No. Please. I must get this out, and then I promise, I'll leave." He took a deep breath. "I've asked Captain Pellew for a transfer. He won't give me an answer until tomorrow, but I feel certain once he's had time to think about it, he will say yes."

His eyes flickered up to meet mine for a second before they returned to the floor. "I never intended to deceive you, Horatio. The first fit was real. But when I woke up with your hands on me...I couldn't resist. I only meant to do it once, so I could be...lucid for it, but I couldn't stop. I don't blame you if you'll never trust me again, and I'm sorry, but...I don't seem to have your willpower. I ache for your touch, and I can't seem to...shut it off the way you can."

He shook his head, turning the door handle. "Anyway, I thought you should know," he said quickly before he left the room.

I stared at the closed door long after he left. How was I supposed to react to this? Did he expect me to stop him? Or did he just want to be as far away from me as he could get?

Had he *really* asked the captain for a transfer, or was that another trick?

There was only one way to find out.

~~~

My knock on the captain's door was answered immediately. "Ah, Mr Hornblower, I was just about to send for you. I take it by the look on your face you've seen Mr Kennedy?"

"Yes, sir."

Captain Pellew shook his head. "I must admit I am quite reluctant to lose him as an officer aboard this ship, despite his obvious exhaustion. Do you think there is a chance you can convince him to change his mind?"

"I'm not sure, sir." I wasn't even sure if I *should* convince him. Perhaps his transfer would be best for everyone, not just us. Then again, the thought of sending Archie off alone, where I could not see him....

"Mr Hornblower?" "Sorry, sir."

Pellew studied me for a moment. "Did Mr Kennedy tell you why he requested the transfer?"

Lying to the captain was never easy, but with my very future at stake, I found it far less difficult than I would have imagined. "No, sir."

"Ah. He would not give me a reason either, other than 'For the good of the ship.'" The captain sat down behind his desk. "Did something happen to him on leave?"

"Not to my knowledge, sir," I answered uncomfortably. Nothing had happened to him that hadn't happened before, so in that much it was not actually a lie.

"Well, then, I believe he may still be feeling the effects of his imprisonment. I will consider his request tonight. In the meantime," he added, fixing me with a look, "if he changes his mind, he need only tell me."

I nodded. "Was there anything else, sir?" "No, thank you, Mr Hornblower."

I left as swiftly as I could without appearing anxious, halting only when I was completely out of sight of the captain's door. I had only a few hours to decide what I was going to do if I had any hope of convincing Archie to stay. If Archie did not change his mind, Pellew would grant the transfer, of that I was certain.

Memories of the time when Archie was presumed dead returned, unbidden and unwanted. England was at war. Either of us could die at any time.

If he left, I feared the chance of our deaths increased tenfold. Who would there be to live for, if not each other?

My mind made up, I went in search of Archie.

~~~

I pulled my collar up against the biting rain as I stepped on deck. The night sky, added to the rain, made it difficult to see, but I spotted Archie nonetheless, leaning on the rail near the bow, as alone as you could get on a ship this size. The lamp beside him should have warmed the area, but it only made him seem far more alone. He made no move to acknowledge me as I gripped the rail next to him, settling in beside him to stare off into the darkness.

After a moment, I turned my head to face him. "I don't want you to go," I said, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the wind.

Eyes wide with surprise met mine. "Given your behaviour, I thought that was exactly what you wanted."

"You tricked me. I was upset."

"As you had every right to be." He looked out at the water again. "I am ashamed to think of what I did. It was unpardonable."

I laughed bitterly. "As if I am better?" That earned me another startled glance, and it was my turn to stare at the water. "As much as your fits worried me, Archie, I must confess to a certain...pleasure in having any excuse to touch you."

"At least you did not invent reasons to do so, and endanger any hope of future trust in the process."

"Didn't I? I certainly had no need to touch you as much as I did while you were having those fits. I told myself I was calming you, but...if there is any blame, I must take my share. It's something Simpson would have--"

"Do *not* compare yourself to him," he demanded in a fierce whisper. "Ever." His eyes blazed, but he said no more.

I looked away, the words stuck in my throat. The silence stretched between us until I met his gaze again. "I don't want you to go," I repeated finally. "I remember all too well what it was like when you were in Spain and I thought you were dead. And...I don't want you to go."

His eyes searched mine for moments before he finally nodded. "I will go withdraw my request to the captain."

I nodded once before I turned to stare at the water again, afraid any more temptation would lead me to reveal more than I ever should in public. After all, he was not leaving.

We had time.

---

Apologies for the lack of actual sex. I promise to make up for it. :-)

Comments? ndannais@squidge.org