|Sequel to "Tómas"
Overall rating: PG-13
Category: slash, adventure, humour
Other characters appearing: Lord George Cutler Beckett, Lt. Greitzer, Lt. Groves, Will Turner plus cameos by Prince Frederick of Prussia and Voltaire
Feedback: very welcome. Good or bad.
Author's note: I thought that "Tómas" was the weirdest story I've ever written. Well, I was wrong.
Summary: There is nothing that a leprechaun wouldn't do for his treasure, so all is not lost for James Norrington.
Gillette didn't stop before they had brought a good distance between themselves and the ship. Then he sat on a huge rock and let out a sigh of relief.
"Another adventure survived." Voltaire reached in the pocket of his coat and took out a flask, offering it to his cousin. "Here. To revive your spirits."
Gillette accepted gratefully and took a big swig.
He took another swig, then he handed the flask back to Voltaire and pointed at Cutler Beckett.
"I've kept my part of the deal, now you keep yours. Where is my captain, Seoirse?"
Cutler Beckett looked a bit uncomfortable.
"He died aboard the Flying Dutchman," he replied.
"Yes, I know that. But where is he now?"
"Aboard the Flying Dutchman."
"I'm not in the mood for joking, cousin. Where is the Flying Dutchman?"
Cutler Beckett chewed his lip. "I - have no idea."
Gillette jumped down from his rock and grasped his cousin by the sleeves of his coat, shaking him hard.
"How dare you say you don't know if you promised to tell me!" he cried.
"Let go of me!" a struggling Cutler Beckett shrieked. "I promised to tell you where James Norrington is, and I've kept my promise! Not once did I promise to tell you where the Flying Dutchman is!"
Voltaire put his hand on Gillette's shoulder.
"Let him go, Tómas. As much as hate to admit it, but he is right."
Gillette hesitated a moment, then he pushed Cutler Beckett away. Without another word, he returned to his rock, sitting down with his back turned to everyone and sighing.
Cutler Beckett adjusted his coat.
"Well, I'll better be off then and bring Robert to justice."
"A good idea. The faster, the better," Voltaire snapped.
"Farewell, dear cousins, and if you should ever be in trouble again, please don't hesitate to call me. I offer special rates for relatives. Oh, and Tómas? Here's one advice for free: all good things come to those who wait!"
With that cryptical remark he blinked, and both he and Robert the fairy disappeared.
"Mr. Voltaire, is there anything we can do for Lieutenant Gillette?"
Voltaire turned around, and saw Henry standing there, turning his cap in his hands. Being dead aside, he looked like a normal lad again, and also the seamen behind him were back to their human form.
Voltaire sighed. "No, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do for Mr. Gillette, lad. But you're free now, you and your friends. You can leave to whatever afterlife mortals go to."
Henry shook his head.
"No, we can't. We have to wait."
"Wait? What for? Fair weather?"
"No. Means of transport."
Voltaire scratched his head. He turned to Gillette, who still sat on his rock, looking forlorn into the distance.
"Can you make head or tail of this, Tómas?"
Gillette didn't reply, but stood up and narrowed his eyes.
"There is something," Gillette said, and pointed southwards. "Something is moving towards us, can't you see?"
Voltaire couldn't see a thing, but he reached in his pocket and took out a spyglass.
"Wait a moment, let me see... good grief! You are right! There is something!"
"What is it? A whale?" Gillette asked.
"No." Voltaire began to step from one foot to the other, getting all nervous. "Believe it or not, Tómas, but it's a ship!"
Gillette looked puzzled. "A ship? Are you certain?"
"Absolutely, completely, perfectly certain." Voltaire scratched his chin. "That's amazing. After all, we're still thirty years from the invention of the first submarine!"
* * *
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|THE FLYING SCOTSMAN 14/18
by Molly Joyful