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darktrent182Title: That Certain Something
Fandom: Blackadder
Characters: George Colhurst St. Barleigh, Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett
Prompt: #096. Writer's Choice -- Happiness
Word Count: 1,886
Rating: PG for implied hanky-panky
Summary: In 1920, Melchett learns why George hasn't married, and he can't let go.
Author's Notes: Written between classes today. Unbeta'd. Originally meant for the "Children" prompt, but George and Melchett got angsty on me. I had hoped to avoid the Writer's Choice prompts until later, but there you go. Disregards "Goodbyeee..." entirely (of course!).
***
Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett was not a damp-eyed nancy boy, but he confessed himself rather comforted by the fact that when the orders came down that the Allied forces had won the war, George refused to leave his side. This was to be expected, of course -- George had always been very loyal to friends of the family, even if he tended to bumble around a bit while executing his obligations to family and loved ones.
What surprised him, though, was after the war, when they were all cleared to return home to England, George still remained at his side, a wide-eyed, grinning presence that couldn't shut up to save his life. George would still be there, keeping his own room in haphazard order, beaming at Mrs. Davis, Melchett's housekeeper, and complimenting her looks, though it seemed more like the young man was trying to keep in practice.
Melchett returned to his daily habit of taking walks before lunch, something he rather picked up when he found himself too energetic to enjoy a meal properly. And still, George remained at his side, pointing out the different sights, noticing all of the people on the streets as if seeing them for the first time. There was a kind of innocent wonder about him that the war hadn't dampened, from what Melchett could tell. He was still the same grinning lad that had blubbered when Melchett had offered him rabbit pie at his sixth birthday party.
It was on one of these daily walks on a lovely spring day that Melchett had noticed a small pack of children on the sidewalk, a faint, crudely-drawn, misshapen circle drawn in with chalk as they shot marbles at each other. One or two of the smaller children looked up at the adults, but most kept playing, grudgingly shifting out of the way for old General Melchett. The smallest lad, who couldn't have been five or six, raised a small hand and saluted them. Grinning at the little nipper, George saluted him back.
Melchett raised an eyebrow at George when they passed the children. "Who was that? Do you know?"
"Bill Something-or-other," George frowned as he tried to remember, but contentment soon took over. "His father was killed in the Big Push in 1917."
"Shame." Melchett nodded distractedly, heading for the small park, and the bench where they usually sat down to rest up for the return home. "That reminds me, have you been to see your mother recently?"
"Of course, I have..." George paused, frowning for a moment before he blinked. "Well, now that you mention it, it has been a while." He cocked his head a little, looking surprised. "Fancy that." He aimed curious blue eyes at Melchett. "Why do you ask?"
"She came to call Tuesday while you were out -- you know how we've made a point of staying close--"
At this, George nodded. "Of course."
"Well, she was visiting, and we started chatting." Melchett shrugged, looking ahead to see their bench in sight. "You came up, of course. Dutiful son, and all that." He paused. "Actually, we mostly ended up talking about you."
George frowned. "Is something the matter?"
"No, no, of course not." Melchett shook his head. "She's just wondering when you're going to find a nice girl and get married, have children, that sort of thing." He raised an eyebrow at George. "As for that matter, so am I."
George blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "You are? Are you unhappy with me staying with you?"
Melchett shook his head. "Of course not!"
"Then why are you wondering about whether I get married or not?" George noticed that their bench was in sight, and hastened over to sit down, stretching out his long legs happily.
Sitting down at a proper distance, but still close, Melchett sighed. "George, we've..." He paused, trying to find the right words. "We've kept each other company for three years now."
George stared at him, nodding. "Right."
"You're getting close to thirty, and you still haven't married."
"You've never married, and you're past forty." George pointed out, the logic stunning in its simplicity. Even if he was forgetting one thing.
Melchett smiled a little. "Well, yes, but I had an older brother to carry on the family legacy. You have two sisters, and they're hardly of marriageable age."
George blinked, and then frowned. "Well... there aren't any ladies that've really caught my eye, I guess."
"If you don't look for someone soon, you're going to miss out on a lot of wonderful things," Melchett pointed out.
George frowned. "Like what?"
"A wife to take care of the house for you." Melchett shrugged. "Children."
George had looked ready to refute the first point, but at the second, he blinked. "Children?"
Melchett snorted. "Of course, children. You'd be a good father, if little Billy is any indication."
George shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Well, he's just a lad from around the neighborhood. I don't really know all that much about raising them."
"You don't need to raise them at all," Melchett replied. "Leave it to their mother to do that. All you'd need to do is make sure that they have everything they need, and the family wealth should take care of that."
George blinked again. "Well, if that's the case, what would they need me around for?"
Melchett shot him a surprised look. "'What would they need you around for'? Are you serious? You're to be a role model, an example for your sons to live up to! Someone for your daughters to take care of when you're in your adage."
"I hadn't thought about it like that," George admitted.
"Well, you should," Melchett replied.
A few children passed by, chasing after a ball that bounced past. The two of them watched them amble by, but when Melchett looked at George, he found George looking at him instead.
"Did you always want children?" George asked.
"Of course." Melchett answered, as if there were nothing else a man wanted to do with his life than to have smaller versions of himself running around. "Why shouldn't I?"
"You never married," George remarked.
Melchett snorted, looking at George suspiciously. "I've told you before. I was searching for the perfect woman to settle down with."
"Are you still looking for her?" George asked, his usual tone of voice at odds with the look in his eyes.
Melchett frowned at him, trying to decipher the look, but for once, George seemed almost mysterious. There was something in George's look that said this was Important. What he said next was Important, and could very well affect what they had between them. A usually firm, confident response turned quiet, unsteady.
"I don't... think so." When George's face failed to light up, Melchett stumbled on. "I'm much too old anyway. You're still in the prime of life. You should have no trouble finding a lovely girl."
George nodded, not smiling but not ready to bawl his eyes out. "What if I said I already made a decision about that, and I'm bally well not going to change my mind?"
Melchett frowned at him forbiddingly. "How do you mean?"
George looked at him steadily. "I rather think I have something I want right here."
Melchett's frown turned surprised. "What are you saying?"
"I don't want children," George said simply. "And I don't want a wife."
Melchett felt his chest tighten, and he idly wondered if it would be now, of all times, when his dicky heart would give out. "You can't be serious..."
"I can't be?" George frowned.
"Anthony," He said the name with deliberate significance, and Melchett couldn't stop himself from remembering the first time Georgina had called him that. Or when George had moaned it in bed. "This jolly well means something to me. What we have together..." Melchett saw him looking for the words, and failing, he shook his head firmly. "Dash it all, I've never left your side, and I don't want to."
"And what about your family, hmm?" Melchett asked him. "They need a legacy, and you're the only male heir to provide it for them."
"I don't bloody care!" George retorted. "I have something wonderful, and decent, and-and good, and I'm not about to jolly well throw it all away just because Mum wants me to find some--"
Melchett's hand reached out suddenly, taking a firm grip of George's shoulder. George stopped, gritting his teeth, his eyes flashing. When he moved forward, closer to Anthony, Melchett shook his head. "Not here."
George's eyes widened, and he stared at Melchett as if he'd been slapped.
"George..." Melchett murmured, wanting for all the world to make that expression disappear. "Look at us, here and now. You wouldn't be able to tell anyone about us. It wouldn't be proper for me to even hold you unless it was dire. And kissing you..." He sighed, shaking his head. "You should find a girl. Marry her. Have lots of children."
"You don't--" George stopped, suddenly unsure. Biting his lip, George's eyes started to shine a little. "Do you want me to?"
He should lie. He needed to lie. It was imperative that he not hold George back at all, leave him free to find someone else. But again, those blue eyes were staring at him, imploring, begging, pleading...
"No." It came out as a broken whisper. "Of course not."
"Then I'll not do it." George replied firmly, his lips tightening into a thin, determined line.
"George..."
George shook his head. "Absolutely not. I lo--" At Melchett's hasty shake of the head, he stopped. "We care for each other. Deeply. I can't bally well turn my back on you. On what we have."
"Don't you deserve some happiness?" Melchett asked him softly.
"I already have it." A simple statement. Firm. Unwavering.
Melchett inhaled slowly. "George."
George folded his arms across his chest, looking like a much older child defying his father. "If you think you're going to try to convince me otherwise, you're dashed mistaken, I'm afraid."
Melchett shook his head. "It's not that."
George blinked, his defiant pose giving way to curiosity. "Then what is it?"
"Let's head home."
George looked at him suspiciously. "And we'll have no more of this nonsense about me leaving?"
'Me leaving'. The phrase stuck in Melchett's head. Not 'me getting married' or even 'me having children', but 'me leaving'.
Dear Lord... Melchett thought to himself with no small amount of wonder. I do believe he really means it.
"Anthony?" George frowned, looking concerned.
Melchett shook his head. "No more talk of it. I promise." He stood up from the bench. "Though I can't promise your mother won't bring up the subject."
George snorted. "I think I can last against her. Or I can be conveniently absent when she comes to call."
"George," Melchett growled reprovingly.
"Oh, all right," George replied. "But if I ever think about marrying a girl on my own, I shall bally well find my old service revolver and shoot myself."
Melchett nodded, making a note to himself to hide George's revolver at his earliest convenience. "But, of course."
George beamed happily at him, nodding once as if satisfied by the calm response. "Shall we head home now?"
Melchett nodded again, and the two of them headed back home.
Fandom: Blackadder
Characters: George Colhurst St. Barleigh, Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett
Prompt: #096. Writer's Choice -- Happiness
Word Count: 1,886
Rating: PG for implied hanky-panky
Summary: In 1920, Melchett learns why George hasn't married, and he can't let go.
Author's Notes: Written between classes today. Unbeta'd. Originally meant for the "Children" prompt, but George and Melchett got angsty on me. I had hoped to avoid the Writer's Choice prompts until later, but there you go. Disregards "Goodbyeee..." entirely (of course!).
***
Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett was not a damp-eyed nancy boy, but he confessed himself rather comforted by the fact that when the orders came down that the Allied forces had won the war, George refused to leave his side. This was to be expected, of course -- George had always been very loyal to friends of the family, even if he tended to bumble around a bit while executing his obligations to family and loved ones.
What surprised him, though, was after the war, when they were all cleared to return home to England, George still remained at his side, a wide-eyed, grinning presence that couldn't shut up to save his life. George would still be there, keeping his own room in haphazard order, beaming at Mrs. Davis, Melchett's housekeeper, and complimenting her looks, though it seemed more like the young man was trying to keep in practice.
Melchett returned to his daily habit of taking walks before lunch, something he rather picked up when he found himself too energetic to enjoy a meal properly. And still, George remained at his side, pointing out the different sights, noticing all of the people on the streets as if seeing them for the first time. There was a kind of innocent wonder about him that the war hadn't dampened, from what Melchett could tell. He was still the same grinning lad that had blubbered when Melchett had offered him rabbit pie at his sixth birthday party.
It was on one of these daily walks on a lovely spring day that Melchett had noticed a small pack of children on the sidewalk, a faint, crudely-drawn, misshapen circle drawn in with chalk as they shot marbles at each other. One or two of the smaller children looked up at the adults, but most kept playing, grudgingly shifting out of the way for old General Melchett. The smallest lad, who couldn't have been five or six, raised a small hand and saluted them. Grinning at the little nipper, George saluted him back.
Melchett raised an eyebrow at George when they passed the children. "Who was that? Do you know?"
"Bill Something-or-other," George frowned as he tried to remember, but contentment soon took over. "His father was killed in the Big Push in 1917."
"Shame." Melchett nodded distractedly, heading for the small park, and the bench where they usually sat down to rest up for the return home. "That reminds me, have you been to see your mother recently?"
"Of course, I have..." George paused, frowning for a moment before he blinked. "Well, now that you mention it, it has been a while." He cocked his head a little, looking surprised. "Fancy that." He aimed curious blue eyes at Melchett. "Why do you ask?"
"She came to call Tuesday while you were out -- you know how we've made a point of staying close--"
At this, George nodded. "Of course."
"Well, she was visiting, and we started chatting." Melchett shrugged, looking ahead to see their bench in sight. "You came up, of course. Dutiful son, and all that." He paused. "Actually, we mostly ended up talking about you."
George frowned. "Is something the matter?"
"No, no, of course not." Melchett shook his head. "She's just wondering when you're going to find a nice girl and get married, have children, that sort of thing." He raised an eyebrow at George. "As for that matter, so am I."
George blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "You are? Are you unhappy with me staying with you?"
Melchett shook his head. "Of course not!"
"Then why are you wondering about whether I get married or not?" George noticed that their bench was in sight, and hastened over to sit down, stretching out his long legs happily.
Sitting down at a proper distance, but still close, Melchett sighed. "George, we've..." He paused, trying to find the right words. "We've kept each other company for three years now."
George stared at him, nodding. "Right."
"You're getting close to thirty, and you still haven't married."
"You've never married, and you're past forty." George pointed out, the logic stunning in its simplicity. Even if he was forgetting one thing.
Melchett smiled a little. "Well, yes, but I had an older brother to carry on the family legacy. You have two sisters, and they're hardly of marriageable age."
George blinked, and then frowned. "Well... there aren't any ladies that've really caught my eye, I guess."
"If you don't look for someone soon, you're going to miss out on a lot of wonderful things," Melchett pointed out.
George frowned. "Like what?"
"A wife to take care of the house for you." Melchett shrugged. "Children."
George had looked ready to refute the first point, but at the second, he blinked. "Children?"
Melchett snorted. "Of course, children. You'd be a good father, if little Billy is any indication."
George shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Well, he's just a lad from around the neighborhood. I don't really know all that much about raising them."
"You don't need to raise them at all," Melchett replied. "Leave it to their mother to do that. All you'd need to do is make sure that they have everything they need, and the family wealth should take care of that."
George blinked again. "Well, if that's the case, what would they need me around for?"
Melchett shot him a surprised look. "'What would they need you around for'? Are you serious? You're to be a role model, an example for your sons to live up to! Someone for your daughters to take care of when you're in your adage."
"I hadn't thought about it like that," George admitted.
"Well, you should," Melchett replied.
A few children passed by, chasing after a ball that bounced past. The two of them watched them amble by, but when Melchett looked at George, he found George looking at him instead.
"Did you always want children?" George asked.
"Of course." Melchett answered, as if there were nothing else a man wanted to do with his life than to have smaller versions of himself running around. "Why shouldn't I?"
"You never married," George remarked.
Melchett snorted, looking at George suspiciously. "I've told you before. I was searching for the perfect woman to settle down with."
"Are you still looking for her?" George asked, his usual tone of voice at odds with the look in his eyes.
Melchett frowned at him, trying to decipher the look, but for once, George seemed almost mysterious. There was something in George's look that said this was Important. What he said next was Important, and could very well affect what they had between them. A usually firm, confident response turned quiet, unsteady.
"I don't... think so." When George's face failed to light up, Melchett stumbled on. "I'm much too old anyway. You're still in the prime of life. You should have no trouble finding a lovely girl."
George nodded, not smiling but not ready to bawl his eyes out. "What if I said I already made a decision about that, and I'm bally well not going to change my mind?"
Melchett frowned at him forbiddingly. "How do you mean?"
George looked at him steadily. "I rather think I have something I want right here."
Melchett's frown turned surprised. "What are you saying?"
"I don't want children," George said simply. "And I don't want a wife."
Melchett felt his chest tighten, and he idly wondered if it would be now, of all times, when his dicky heart would give out. "You can't be serious..."
"I can't be?" George frowned.
"Anthony," He said the name with deliberate significance, and Melchett couldn't stop himself from remembering the first time Georgina had called him that. Or when George had moaned it in bed. "This jolly well means something to me. What we have together..." Melchett saw him looking for the words, and failing, he shook his head firmly. "Dash it all, I've never left your side, and I don't want to."
"And what about your family, hmm?" Melchett asked him. "They need a legacy, and you're the only male heir to provide it for them."
"I don't bloody care!" George retorted. "I have something wonderful, and decent, and-and good, and I'm not about to jolly well throw it all away just because Mum wants me to find some--"
Melchett's hand reached out suddenly, taking a firm grip of George's shoulder. George stopped, gritting his teeth, his eyes flashing. When he moved forward, closer to Anthony, Melchett shook his head. "Not here."
George's eyes widened, and he stared at Melchett as if he'd been slapped.
"George..." Melchett murmured, wanting for all the world to make that expression disappear. "Look at us, here and now. You wouldn't be able to tell anyone about us. It wouldn't be proper for me to even hold you unless it was dire. And kissing you..." He sighed, shaking his head. "You should find a girl. Marry her. Have lots of children."
"You don't--" George stopped, suddenly unsure. Biting his lip, George's eyes started to shine a little. "Do you want me to?"
He should lie. He needed to lie. It was imperative that he not hold George back at all, leave him free to find someone else. But again, those blue eyes were staring at him, imploring, begging, pleading...
"No." It came out as a broken whisper. "Of course not."
"Then I'll not do it." George replied firmly, his lips tightening into a thin, determined line.
"George..."
George shook his head. "Absolutely not. I lo--" At Melchett's hasty shake of the head, he stopped. "We care for each other. Deeply. I can't bally well turn my back on you. On what we have."
"Don't you deserve some happiness?" Melchett asked him softly.
"I already have it." A simple statement. Firm. Unwavering.
Melchett inhaled slowly. "George."
George folded his arms across his chest, looking like a much older child defying his father. "If you think you're going to try to convince me otherwise, you're dashed mistaken, I'm afraid."
Melchett shook his head. "It's not that."
George blinked, his defiant pose giving way to curiosity. "Then what is it?"
"Let's head home."
George looked at him suspiciously. "And we'll have no more of this nonsense about me leaving?"
'Me leaving'. The phrase stuck in Melchett's head. Not 'me getting married' or even 'me having children', but 'me leaving'.
Dear Lord... Melchett thought to himself with no small amount of wonder. I do believe he really means it.
"Anthony?" George frowned, looking concerned.
Melchett shook his head. "No more talk of it. I promise." He stood up from the bench. "Though I can't promise your mother won't bring up the subject."
George snorted. "I think I can last against her. Or I can be conveniently absent when she comes to call."
"George," Melchett growled reprovingly.
"Oh, all right," George replied. "But if I ever think about marrying a girl on my own, I shall bally well find my old service revolver and shoot myself."
Melchett nodded, making a note to himself to hide George's revolver at his earliest convenience. "But, of course."
George beamed happily at him, nodding once as if satisfied by the calm response. "Shall we head home now?"
Melchett nodded again, and the two of them headed back home.
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-24 06:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-24 06:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-30 05:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-22 01:30 am (UTC)George nodded, not smiling but not ready to bawl his eyes out. "What if I said I already made a decision about that, and I'm bally well not going to change my mind?"
I like how Melchett is worried he'll burst into tears. And I like George's diction here. You're great at writing dialogue for him.
"I already have it." A simple statement. Firm. Unwavering.
Ahhh! So simple and forthright. I just want to hug him.
"Anthony," He said the name with deliberate significance, and Melchett couldn't stop himself from remembering the first time Georgina had called him that. Or when George had moaned it in bed.
WIN. So much WIN. The tiny little flashback image embeded in this snippet of narration is brief and tantalizing enough that I'm just, I'm imagining it. And oh man. To think that over the years, finally, something happened. Guh. My brain.
"Oh, all right," George replied. "But if I ever think about marrying a girl on my own, I shall bally well find my old service revolver and shoot myself."
Melchett nodded, making a note to himself to hide George's revolver at his earliest convenience. "But, of course."
This is pretty cute. He's worn the old codger down into a protective, grumpy gay bear. :D
no subject
Date: 2008-03-28 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-14 05:39 pm (UTC)You should write more of them, really. I just love the way you write.
Aren't they cute together? ^^
no subject
Date: 2008-09-14 08:50 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed the story. As for writing more of them anytime soon, I'll have to see, because I'm about hip-deep in a Dresden Files series (based primarily on the TV show, but with elements of the books thrown in), and I want to finish the series before I get back into any old fandoms.
But thank you for the comment!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-14 09:58 pm (UTC)