Partners

A/N: Based on an RP between me and a friend, posted with his permission. I do not own the characters of Pirates of the Caribbean, and am making no profit whatsoever. pleasedontsuekthxbye.

Reviews are your friend.

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"Well, that went differently than I had expected."

Lord Cutler Beckett pulled his gaze away from the door and towards where his manservant leaned against the wall. Mister Mercer had been rather quiet throughout the whole exchange, but Mercer was the type that didn't need to use words in order to speak. His actions had been very telling. "Differently, perhaps, but not out of expectations. I think it went rather well."

Mercer couldn't keep his annoyance out of his voice. "Later on, I suppose. He seems too cocky for his own good around us. Maybe it would have been easier killing him after we got the heart."

Again; not out of expectations. Mercer had that attitude about many things. He didn't have the patience nor the taste for some of the games Beckett played. Some of the games included veiled innuendo and wordplay. It had taken three such phrases for Norrington to finally realize that he was being advanced upon; the poor man couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Though Beckett would have dearly loved to laugh, he refrained from doing so.

"You seemed interested in making him comfortable. Why?" He was direct, looking at Beckett from across the room. "Overly, interested, might I add if it's not being too harsh to say."

Beckett's gaze matched Mercer's, eyes widening slowly in exaggerated shock. There it was, out in the open. "Why, Mister Mercer. You wouldn't happen to be jealous, would you?"

Mercer looked away, sighing softly. "Jealous of what? His ability to come in here and talk down to you? If I did that you'd probably even have me censured."

"You always have my ear," Beckett reminded his friend, stepping around the desk and towards the man. "...among other things. I respect you, Mercer, which is why I would not dream of having you censured."

A small, almost bitter smirk crossed Mercer's features. He still didn't look at him. "Right..." Poor dear, he did seem to be jealous. It wasn't like him. Then again, Beckett was interested in very few men, and Mercer had enjoyed being the only one he took to bed for some time now. It seemed that some reminding would be order. He placed a finger under the man's chin, turning his head to look at them. Mercer flinched slightly, looking for a moment as if he'd dearly like to slap that hand away, but he merely set his fingers straight in a lack of impression. "Why him?" he asked. "You'll move on to him now?"

Beckett did laugh, though it was soft. "'Move on'?" he repeated, letting his finger scrape Mercer's chin as he curled it before pulling his hand away. "Norrington is a diversion, nothing more. If bedding him aids in controlling him, then I will do so."

"A diversion," Mercer said. "He had no interest in you whatsoever." Their eyes locked. "And how exactly will bedding him actually control? You'll send him away at sea immediately...possibly give him the Heart. What does that accomplish for us? Only putting us in a position that is weak." His tone of voice changed to a softer, more pleading one. The most emotion he had shown yet. "Don't let him have the Heart, Cutler. All the bedding in the world won't take his 'honour' away."

"This is why I always beat you at chess," Beckett replied lightly. "You never think far enough ahead. I don't intend on taking his 'honour' away; let him keep it, along with his title. He could be the bloody King of England for all I care, so long as he understand that he owes it to me." He paused briefly before continuing, lowering his voice as he did so. "I could have taken the heart when he first dropped it on my desk, giving him nothing more than the satisfaction of being restored to his former 'glory'. Perhaps I could have even made it so that he only received a blank slate; a chance to start over, the burning of his warrant. I could have done any number of things, but I didn't. Do you know why?"

"I don't have the patience for chess, you know that." Mercer sounded annoyed as he looked out towards the port. "You had the ability to give him many things and you gave him generosity. I hope he remembers it in the future. Had I been in your position, he'd be leaving this being carried and not alive." His eyes went back to Beckett's again, and it didn't take a genius to tell that he greatly disliked Norrington.

And yes...was jealous. "He will," Beckett said simply. "His 'honour' won't allow him to forget the kindness I gave him. And if he does happen to forget, well..."

His hand snaked its way towards Mercer's, gently pulling it towards him and turning it so the palm was facing upwards. He traced a feather-light pattern on it with his other, eyes still on Mercer's.

"You always did have a knack for getting rid of bothersome cretins." Mercer smirked at that.

"I hope he doesn't forget..." he said, which surprised Beckett slightly - wasn't he just saying how he'd liked to have ended Norrington then and there? Nevertheless, Mercer soon found himself distracted with what Beckett was doing to his hand. "Yes, I do have a knack for that; which is why you decided to keep me around all this time..." Smiling again, he brought his free hand up to Becket's cheek, stroking it between his thumb and index finger briefly. The touch was delightfully warm, despite the fact that he still had his gloves on...rather typical of him, even in situations like this. But Beckett sighed softly at Mercer's touch, eyes closing slightly.

"That's not the only reason, Joseph," he practically purred, using Mercer's rarely-used first name. Few knew it; fewer still used it. He only did when he was feeling particularly fond of the man.

Mercer's expressions softened. "Yes...you'd know all about the other reasons as well." He withdrew both of his hands and removed his left glove, pocketing it within his coat. The distance between them quickly closed, and he rubbed Beckett's lower lip with his uncovered fingers. "Our partnership was always mutual. It still is and I would like to see it see it remain that way..."

"I see no reason why it wouldn't," Beckett said with a smile, gently stroking Mercer's hand with his fingers. "We both...compliment each other, don't you think?" he continued, leaning into the taller man while looking up with a gentle look on his face.

But Mercer didn't bite. "Yes, very well I'd say." He pressed another finger onto his lips, to silence or perhaps restrain him as he brought his face just an inch from Beckett's. "I don't think we should do much more here...there are windows and the door leading outside is glass."

He really was paranoid, Beckett thought to himself. But it had been far too long. With an impish smile on his face, he opened his mouth just enough to take the fingers before closing it. He kept his eyes on Mercer's as he sucked on the tips, tongue brushing up against them. Mercer smiled, pressing his fingers further in for a moment before removing them.

"I missed this," he mused aloud, before returning to his normal demeanor. "What can I do for you, Lord?"

Beckett couldn't keep a chuckle from escaping. So he was going to play the subservient clerk, was he? Then it seemed he'd better take action. "I believe you're wearing entirely too much clothing for this situation, Mister Mercer," he said slyly, starting to lead the man away from the wall. "You should rectify that."

"...Cutler," Mercer said with wide eyes, his demeanor shattering. "The windows and doors are open...someone outside could see," he protested.

"So?" He rather found the risk of being caught quite stimulating, and knew better than Mercer that it was a very low, and thus acceptable chance.

"I'm..." the man was at a loss for words. "...I can't do it...not here."

Beckett searched Mercer's face, then slowly nodded, hiding his disappointment. He should have expected it; Mercer was rarely one to be...adventurous. And he would respect him. Despite his goads, he wouldn’t force the man into doing something he truly didn’t want to do. Their partnership...relationship...wasn’t worth that.

But neither would he be denied.

"Tonight, then," he urged. Mercer relaxed slightly, losing some of the worry that had come over his face. He gently pried himself away from Beckett.

"Yes...that would be fine."

Without another word, he took a seat along the wall. Beckett watched him for a few moments, before he smiled again and turned away.

Tonight couldn’t come quick enough.