Discalimer: No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended. Warning: Rated [MA] Mature Adults only. Contains strong m/m sexual scenes, violence, coarse language and adult themes. Disclaimers: Not for profit just for fun. All characters belonging to Bernard Cornwell will be returned after use [although he might not want them back when he sees what I have done with them <G>] All other ORIGINAL characters belong to me. Rating: R 18+ Warnings: Slash, that means m/m sex [as in male/male] violence, blasphemy, ummm and there might be some m/f sex there too in later parts. If any of these things offend you then please read no further. Thanks: A special thanks to BC for writing Sharpe�s Tiger [my personal favourite] and leaving so many questions unanswered. All feedback to [email protected] I probably should mention for all the RS fans that RS doesn't make an appearance in this story until part three. The story takes place while Sharpe and Lawford are undercover [g] in Seringapatum and deals with what happens to Tom G and the rest of the 33rd in his absence. I hope this will not deter anyone because I THINK you will still enjoy it. JJ   Tom's Tiger Part One   "No!" insisted Tom Garrard. "It can't be right. Dick wouldn't leave without me!" The group of infantrymen shuffled their feet and looked at one another, but most were reluctant to speak. It was Percy Peter's who finally answered. He'd known Tom the longest and was one of his closest friends. "It's true Tom, Dick's deserted and taken Mary Bickerstaff with him. They left some time last night. The flogging must have been the final straw." Tom Garrard shook his head and wished for a moment that his musket was loaded because then he could shoot his own bloody head off and be spared this pain. He'd known that Sharpe was discontent for some time. Morris and Hakeswill had become relentless in their persecution and Sharpe's flogging being the culmination of a vendetta they had carried on for years. But amid the pain, rational thoughts slowly began to filter back. Surely if Sharpe was going to run he'd take along his long time friend rather than a women he'd taken up with barely two months beforehand. It just didn't seem right and Tom began to wonder if perhaps Sharpe's disappearance was the result of foul play by Sergeant Hakeswill or Captain Morris. "No, there's more to it than that Percy," Tom replied trying to sound confident. "Dick wouldn't leave me!" The others shook their heads and mumbled amongst themselves, but none were game enough or foolish enough to disagree. Garrard and Sharpe had been best mates and more since they met in Flanders 5 years earlier when Sharpe had been a new recruit, just turned 17, and Tom Garrard had stepped in to protect him. But boys grow into men and more than a few of Tom's friends wondered if Sharpe had finally tired of his relationship with Garrard and decided he'd prefer women from now on. As the men slowly walked away, Tom was left feeling empty and alone. Oh Dick, he murmured to himself, suddenly afraid for his friend's safety. He'd only seen Sharpe briefly last night at the campfire while they had eaten their supper and then a little later, just before Sharpe had left to do sentry duty. Sharpe had been in pain from the flogging, but had given no hint that anything else was wrong. Tom had wanted to speak to Sharpe alone; to check his back and offer some comfort, but he'd been given no opportunity. He wanted Sharpe know that he'd done all he could to save him from the punishment, even going to Lawford in the hope that their Lieutenant could help out in some way. But it had all been useless, or at least so Tom believed. He had to endure the sight of his friend and lover flogged until his back was raw. Perhaps the watching had been as bad as the flogging, Tom decided, for it was a different type of torture, a vision that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Every time he touched Sharpe's back or held him, he would be reminded once again of his inability to save his friend. "There you are, Tom Garrard. Crying your eyes out because Sharpie's left you?" Sergeant Obadiah Hakeswill stared at Tom Garrard, the light of victory shining in his half-crazed eyes. Garrard remained silent, refusing to be baited. But Hakeswill was only just beginning. "Finally got tired of you did he, Garrard? Got tired of fucking your arse and found himself a real woman?" Hakeswill taunted. Tom's mouth fell into a hard line. "Bloody unnatural, the things you two buggers got up to, says so in the Scriptures. Bleeding Sodom and Gomorrah you two were! But Sharpie got his punishment, all right, and you'll get your's too, me lad. I'm watching you, Tom Garrard. One step out of line and I'll have you flogged just like I did Sharpie!" Hakeswill paused and Tom wondered if this was the end of his diatribe. But Hakeswill had one more petty vengeance to extract. "Come with me Garrard. The Major wants a new latrine dug and you're just the man for the job."   That evening Tom was aware of the guarded looks that his messmates gave him. Peters, O'Neill, Rawlings and even Bill Hanson sat off to one side with their wives, making small talk and skirting around the absence of Dick Sharpe and Mary Bickerstaff. It was Josh Smith who sat next to Tom and gave his knee a gentle touch. "Come for a walk with me Tom," Smith said quietly. "I've got some things to tell you."   Tom wondered if Smith was simply manoeuvring to get him alone and offer a little comfort, physical comfort, something that Tom certainly needed tonight. He'd thought about Smith often since Sharpe had taken up with Mary Bickerstaff and Tom was forced to spend the long Indian nights alone. But thinking was a far as it had gone. Tom knew it was his own jealousy that drove him to think of someone else. But to use Smith that way would be unfair. Now, however, things had changed. They found a quiet spot down where the oxen and horses were tethered, out of sight of the sentries or passers by. Smith had brought his blanket and spread it out for them to sit on. But when Tom reached for the younger man, Smith held back. "I thought you'd be too upset tonight Tom?" "I just want to forget about it for a while." Tom said feeling a little guilty, but it was the truth. He'd worried over Sharpe's disappearance all day as he dug in the blazing sun and still he had found no solutions. "He wouldn't just leave me like this Joshy, something's happened!" Smith smiled "That's what I wanted to tell you Tom. I think there's something going on with Dick and Lawford." "Lawford!" Tom almost spat the word. "What's bloody Lawford got to do with it?" Smith bit his lower lip as if considering how to put his words. "Lawford disappeared last night too. That's not the story put out of course. I was told to write in the Company records that he left this morning carrying the dispatch to Madras." Smith was the Company Clerk, a position that made him privy to information that the average infantryman never heard. "But it wasn't Lawford. The dispatches were given to another Lieutenant." Tom considered Smith's story. "So you think Lawford deserted too?" he asked in disbelief. "No Tom! He doesn't need to desert. I think he and Dick have slipped out on some sort of mission. Maybe they've gone to survey Seringapatum ahead of the column. "With Mary Bickerstaff in tow? You can't be bloody serious!" Tom sat back, leaning on his elbows. He wanted to believe that Sharpe hadn't deserted but Smith's story sounded outlandish. "I think they went undercover. Yesterday Lawford had me get a private's red jacket from the quartermaster's stores along with a few other bits and pieces of kit. Now what would our Lieutenant want with those?" Smith lay back and stretched a little, "It just seems odd to me, that's all." Tom lay down on the blanket and peered up at the stars. "Just like it's damned odd that Dick would go without telling me. He'd never leave me like that!" Tom felt sadness well up in his heart again and reached out for Smith. "He wouldn't unless he was under orders, unless he knew he'd be back with you again." Soft lips lightly touched Tom's. "I hope you're right Joshy," Tom murmured amid kisses.       No one thought it strange that Tom Garrard took up so quickly with Josh Smith. It was whispered behind their backs that they were tarred with the same brush. That men like that would never be happy with a woman. Perhaps it was true. Tom Garrard didn't care. He ignored the rumours going around and the looks that followed him. There was one thing that kept Tom going each day as Sergeant Hakeswill continued to provoke him at every opportunity. It was the thought that he would see Dick again when they reached Sergingapatum that stopped Garrard from tearing out Hakeswill's throat with is bare hands. Tom knew that if he retaliated to Hakeswill's barbs he would be flogged and there was no one here to save him from the punishment. So he held his tongue and bided his time knowing that when he and Dick were together again they could take great delight in laughing in Hakeswill's face. The nights were lonely and sleep often eluded Tom as he thought back over Sharpe's flogging, but Smith's story began to make more sense when Tom thought about how Colonel Wellesley had stopped the punishment. But why Sharpe? That was the one thing that Tom had trouble understanding. Was Sharpe chosen because Lawford had asked for him? Bloody Lawford, it always came back to him! Lawford with his blue eyes and pale hair, looking more like a choirboy than a Lieutenant. Tom turned over and pressed himself against Smith's warm back. It was thoughts of seeing Sharpe again that got Tom through the days, but it was Josh Smith's presence beside him that got Tom through the nights. Smith moaned a little in his sleep and settled back into Tom's warmth. The nights could get chilly on the high Deccan plain. Tom let his hands slid under Smith's shirt to caress the smooth skin. His lips dropped to Smith's neck and he began to kiss and nip his way down to Smith's shoulder, hoping the younger man would wake up. "Bill?" Smith murmured and rolled over, his eyes registering his instant embarrassment when he realised his mistake. "Oh Tom, I'm so sorry. I was asleep. I didn't mean it." Smith reached up and rubbed at the sleep in his eyes, a gesture that made him look far younger than his nineteen years. Tom smiled and brushed a kiss across his forehead.   "Shh, it's all right, Joshy. I understand. Christ, I've probably called you Dick at times too and not even realised it." But Smith shook his head hurriedly. "No Tom, you've never done that." The words held no censure and Smith rolled onto his back, an invitation for Tom to continue. "Do you think Bill minds what we're doing?" Tom asked, his desire cooling a little. Smith and Hanson had a strange relationship. They were lovers, but only when it suited the older man. For Bill Hanson, his wife and children would always come first, but that didn't stop him sneaking off with Smith when the mood took him. Smith idolised Hanson and seemed content with the arrangement, however Tom had often seen a wistful look in Smiths eyes as he watched Bill and Rose from afar. "He doesn't care. He's got Rose to think about and the baby that's coming. You know how he worries." It was Tom's turn to offer a little sympathy now as he looked into the sad dark eyes. "But he can be a jealous bastard when he wants to be Josh. I haven't forgotten that." His hand brushed the scar above his eye. "He was ready to kill me once for messing with you." Smith's dark eyes took on a new light, one that Tom remembered well. "And was it worth it Tom?" The soft voice was like a caress, mirroring Smith's hands that had somehow found their way inside Tom's trousers. All thoughts of Dick Sharpe were forgotten as Tom gave himself up to he feeling. "Oh yes, it was worth it, Joshy," he sighed knowing it was the truth.   October 1999 Tom's Tiger Part Two It was maddening to be so close to Sharpe and yet so far, Tom thought to himself at evening parade. The regiment was encamped on the western side of Seringapatam and Tom had no doubt that Dick was behind those walls. He had convinced himself of this now and nothing was going to change his mind. If only he could get inside the city, he could find Dick and all would be well again. The rumour that the Regiment was to be involved in a night sortie was therefore welcome. "I don't know Tom, it won't do you any good getting your hopes up like this." Bill Hanson said as he checked his musket for the fourth time while they waited for Captain Morris' inspection. "I wonder what we're bloody going to do anyway? Doubt they want us to storm the walls!" They were interrupted by Josh Smith running up. "Wellesley himself is on his way to inspect you lot!" Smith panted breathlessly. "He must have something important in mind if he's going to lead you himself." Smith looked from Garrard to Hanson, his eyes suddenly serious. "Keep your's heads down now, both of you." As company clerk, Smith was often exempt from battle but Tom could hear the fear in the young man�s voice, fear for their safety. "Aye Josh, don't worry," Hanson said absently, still intent on checking his ammunition. "And will you keep an eye on Rose tonight. She's in a bit of a state. It's only a month till the baby comes."  Something like disappointment flashed through Smith's eyes. "Yes, Bill, anything you want." He waited but Hanson had nothing more to say. Tom reached out and lightly touched Smith's hand drawing the dark eyes. "It'll be all right Joshy. We'll look out for each other, won't we Bill." That last was directed at Hanson, but the there was no time for a reply as Sergeant Hakeswill scuttled into view, face twisting, eyes searching the ranks for anything not in order. "You get on back to where you belong Smith, with the bloody woman and children. Ought to put you in a bloody dress!" Smith hurried away and Hakeswill turned his attention to Garrard. "You drunk Garrard? I'll give yer a floggin' if yer drunk Garrard, mark my words!' When the Sergeant had moved on Hanson turned to Tom and whispered, "I'd love to stick a bayonet right between his ribs. Might have a chance tonight, in the dark. What do you reckon, Tom?" The suggestion took Tom by surprise. What Hanson was suggesting was murder, cold-blooded murder. But for all that, it was something that happened from time to time to unpopular Sergeants and even officers. Tom hesitated, weighing his thoughts. It would be something to be reunited with Dick and be able to say that Hakeswill was dead. Perhaps there was merit in Hanson's idea? Tom's thoughts were interrupted when the party of Officers arrived. Major Shee was so drunk that he looked in danger of falling from his horse. A quick glance at Morris revealed that their own Captain was for once sober, although the pale face and nervous grip on his sword suggested that Morris was far from confident. In complete contrast, young Lieutenant Fitzgerald was positively hopping with excitement. Bloody Hell, Tom thought to himself, the Light Company is being led by a coward and a foolhardy boy! What would Captain Hughes think if he saw them today? They set out south west towards the aqueduct where the Tippoo's men had been hiding and wrecking havoc on the British attempts to dig approach ditches towards the city walls. The men of the Light Company cheered enthusiastically when Lieutenant Fitzgerald told them they were going to clear the Tippoo's men out of the dense wood behind the aqueduct. "Piece of cake!" Percy Peters declared enthusiastically just before the first of the rockets started exploding around them. The men were surprised at first, then openly mocked the haphazard attack. But suddenly it became more threatening as the infantrymen realised that popular Lieutenant Fitzgerald has been hit and was bleeding profusely. They cheered him as he brushed aside his injuries, but Tom shook his head. "Silly fool," he muttered under his breath to Bill Hanson. "He thinks this is just a game, just wants to get noticed by the Colonel." "I'd rather him leading me than Morris." Hanson murmured back as they marched on. "Follow a man like Fitzgerald and you'd end up dead! He's out for glory, Bill and he's never seen a real fight. This is bound to be worse than what we've seen so far. These bastards aren't going to run like they did at Malavelly. They've got the advantage." Bill Hanson conceded Tom's words with a nod of his head. "What was it like in Flanders Tom? Did you lads see much heavy fighting there?" The question was asked by Seamus O'Neill, the big Irishman. O'Neill, like many of the other infantrymen had joined the regiment later. "A little, but nothing compared to the sort of fighting that went on in the Colonies. Some of the old Sergeants used to scare us lads senseless with their tales." There was no more time for talking as the Light and Grenadier Companies were ordered to fix bayonets and advance in line. Tom was suddenly grateful that Dick Sharpe wasn't here, that Sharpe's safety was one less thing for him to be worried about at the moment. "Bill, if anything happens, will you tell Dick that I .." he trailed off, embarrassed by what he was about to confess but hoping that Hanson, of all men, would understand. "Will you tell Dick I loved him? Please." "Bloody hell, Tom!" Hanson muttered, looking down at his feet. But he overcame his embarrassment, straightened and looked directly at Tom. "Sure I will, Tom and will you do the same for Rose?" Rose? Tom hoped his face didn't show the surprise he felt. "Will you look after her? See that she and the children are taken care of? I know it's a lot to ask, but I trust you Tom." "Keep quiet there!" Sergeant Green ordered. "But what about Joshy?" Tom whispered quickly, thinking that perhaps Hanson had more to say. "I doubt Josh would want to marry her, Tom? Do you think he would?" Hanson appeared to be considering the question as they began to climb the aqueduct embankment. For a moment Tom was bewildered and wondered if he should say any more. He'd known for quite some time that Smith and Rose were very good friends and it was common knowledge that Smith loved Hanson's children as if they were his own. He could often be found playing with them and was even teaching them to read and write. In the event of his death, surely Bill Hanson knew that Josh Smith would think it his solemn duty to care for Rose and the children. But there was more to Tom's uneasiness. Didn't Bill Hanson have any last words for Josh Smith? They had been together for five years since Flanders; longer than even Tom and Dick had been together. After all that time, as friends and lovers, surely Hanson would have some final message to pass on. "Well tell Josh that.."  But before Hanson could finish, the order to charge came and the infantrymen ran cheering to the top of the embankment. It was then that Hell broke loose. The tippoo's men opened fire on the line of British soldiers arrayed before them like ducks in a shooting gallery. Rockets streamed towards them in the darkness, killing and maiming. There was confusion even amongst the officers, with Lieutenant Fitzgerald charging off across the waterway, leading half of the light company into the wood. Others crouched with Captain Morris waiting for his orders. Tom Garrard and Bill Hanson plunged into the water and made their way to the trees on the other side. There they huddled, catching their breath, clutching their muskets and waiting. "Christ! What a bloody fuck up!" Hanson declared. They could hear sporadic musket fire and the groans of the wounded and dying, but could see very little in the darkness.  Something moved in the trees beside them but Tom held his fire, not wanting to shoot one of their own by mistake. Suddenly, there was the flash of a tiger-skin tunic and Tom fired, then lunged at a second figure with his bayonet. Bill Hanson was beside him firing into trees and waiting with poised bayonet, but the small assault was over. >From across the aqueduct Morris was gathering his small force and making a disorganised scramble for the woods a little further down from Garrard and Hanson.  "Shall we stay here?" Hanson asked, breathing deeply as he reloaded his musket. "Might as well wait and see what Morris is planning. Let's hope someone's sent for some bloody reinforcements!" They could hear Morris calling to Fitzgerald and Hakeswill, their captain's voice sounding anything but confident. "Bet the bastard is wishing he brought some arrack with him," Tom muttered, pulling at his stock, suddenly conscious of the sweat that seemed to be soaking his shirt and dripping down his back. The wood was hot and humid. "Did you notice where Percy and O'Neill got to?" Suddenly a new voice sounded amid the smoke and bullets. A voice that made Tom stop and listen, not quite believing his ears. "That's Dick!" Tom exclaimed, jumping up only to sit down again quickly when a musket ball flew past his ear. "That's Dick out there, he's trying to come home." Hanson made a sound somewhere between disgust and disbelief. "Christ Tom, what would Dick be doing calling out like that." They listened again, even more puzzled when Sharpe's voice called for Sergeant Hakeswill. "I don't know what he's doing Bill, but I'm going to him." Tom scrambled on his hands and knees further into the Tope, Bill Hanson following behind, cursing. "At least I might get a chance at Hakeswill!" Hanson declared as they waited for the call again to get their bearings. As Garrard and Hanson crouched low, Obadiah Hakeswill scuttled past them following the voice that called to him. Hanson held Tom�s arm as he made to follow. "Let Hakeswill get a bit ahead of us, then I can get him in the back." "But what about..." Tom was cut short by Hakeswill's voice a short way ahead of them, "Sharpie, you bastard!" Both men were on their feet and heading towards the sound of the two men fighting when they were hit by a sudden burst of musketry. They fell heavily. Tom could feel his ear stinging and a frightful pain in his upper left arm but he still had the presence of mind to fire his musket in the direction of the assault. He grabbed Hanson's musket and fired it too, dimly aware that Hanson wasn't moving. There was more musket fire, but it was aimed in another direction. Tom gently turned Hanson over shocked by the blood staining his jacket. "Bill?" he whispered, his hands suddenly unsteady as they searched his friends chest for the extent of the injury. Two holes, low in the right hand side of Hanson's chest from which frothy blood was bubbling as Hanson struggled to breathe. "Bill?" Tom tried again and was answered by a weak gurgling sound from Hanson. "Christ!" With one last fleeting thought of Dick Sharpe, Tom stood up and tried to lift Hanson. The pain in his left arm flared and Tom was forced to lie his friend down again. Examining his arm and found the ball had gone straight through his muscle. He gingerly touched his ear, surprised to find it now felt numb. It was wet and sticky, but appeared to be mostly there. Summoning all his strength, and using his good arm, Tom tried again and managed to lift Hanson enough so that he could drag him back to the aqueduct. The sounds of the slaughter that was still taking place amongst the trees seemed to drift to Tom as in a dream as he dragged his friend back to safety. Don't die, Bill, don't die yet. October 1999 Tom's Tiger Part Three Tom reached the aqueduct and stood looking at the deep water, knowing that his strength was ebbing with the blood that dripped steadily down his arm, doubtful he could make it across. The rest of the Light Company were also in retreat, the attack having been declared a failure. "TOM? What's happened?" Tom said a silent pray of thanks as Percy Peters and Sam Rawlings appeared. With the help of the two infantrymen they soon had Hanson across and up the other side and began the march back to their camp. They didn't wait for one of the wagons, but carried Hanson themselves, not wanting to leave their friend to suffer alone. Hanson was slightly conscious by the time they reached the large tent that had been set up as a makeshift infirmary. He groaned and gurgled up blood, before whispering "Rose" very softly. There were wounded men laying everywhere, both inside and out, their cries a lasting reminder of the futility of the attack.  One of the orderlies took a quick look at Hanson and shook his head. "No hope. Take him over there and make him comfortable, he'll not last the night." The three men were stunned into silence until Hanson murmured "Rose" again. "Bloody Hell! I'll get her." Sam Rawlings stated and took off towards the campfires. They could hear Rose crying long before she arrived. Rawlings had the sense to bring his own wife Sophie and two of the other women along to comfort the distraught girl. The infantrymen moved back and the women took up their vigil. Tom sat down beside Peters, white faced and pale, his arm aching and his head throbbing. He wiped absently at the blood that was still seeping down his face. "Are you all right Tom?" Peters asked, concern in his voice. Tom nodded, too tired to do any more. "Here, let me wrap that arm until the surgeons can see to it." Peters pulled an old scrap of cloth from his jacket pocket and tied it tightly around Tom's arm over his jacket. Tom watched the scene before him, feeling strangely remote from it all. Hanson was speaking to Rose, his voice a mere whisper, blood staining his lips and chin as he struggled desperately to give her his last message. "Oh God!" Tom sat up with a jerk. "What's wrong?" Peters asked in alarm, his hand going to Tom's head, looking for further damage. Tom shook him off. "Joshy, I've got to get Joshy." He struggled to his feet, head spinning, suddenly aware of how very tired he was now. "Tom, it might be better if yer waited till it was over, don't yer think?" Toby Dodds had appeared from the darkness, his uniform splattered with blood but apparently uninjured. "Bill hasn't asked for him, and Rose IS his wife after all. Getting the lad here will do no good that I can see." There was a general murmur of agreement from the others. A thousand thought's rushed through Tom's mind accompanied by anger and disbelief. Why couldn't they understand that what Hanson and Smith shared was just as strong as his marriage to Rose. He left without another word, walking slowly towards the camp. Tom knew Smith would be in the Company tent, doing whatever a clerk did after a defeat like this, listing names of the wounded and dead. With that thought Tom picked up his pace. Smith was bent over the small desk writing away in his elegant script. His face froze in shock when he looked up to see Tom standing there. "Oh god Tom! Are you all right? You're covered in blood?" I must look a sight, Tom thought with one cool clear part of his mind, but all he was able to reply was, "It's Bill."   "Has he asked for me?" Josh Smith asked nervously as they made their way back to the infirmary. "He can hardly talk Joshy." Tom replied tactfully. Smith wiped at his face. "Bill doesn't like to see me cry," he said bravely.   There was a small huddle of women standing at a discreet distance, ensuring the couple had a little privacy. Like a bloody piquet line, Tom thought with a scowl as Sam Rawlings and Toby Dodds came to intercept them.   "Just wait a while Josh," Dodds advised with a restraining hand on Smith's arm in case his suggestion wasn't followed. "Bill's with Rose at the moment." "Yes, of course." Smith brushed at his eyes again earning a look of disgust from Dodds. The other infantrymen had never accepted Smith. It wasn't simply because of his relationship with Hanson. Garrard and Sharpe, although sometimes the butt of jokes, were accepted and well liked. Smith was simply too different. He came from a privileged background and was well educated. He thought nothing of bending the truth and was distrusted because he had lied about his past. There were also rumours about how he had come to be appointed company clerk and what favours he traded Captain Morris in return. In short, Smith had developed a far worse reputation than Dick Sharpe ever had! The two men found a place to sit and waited quietly. Smith unwrapped the bandage on Tom's arm almost absently. "I think this needs stitching Tom. You should get the surgeons to look at it." He gently touched Tom's bloodied ear, "This needs bandaging too, it's still bleeding." He looked back to the small crowd surrounding Bill Hanson. "Why isn't the surgeon with Bill? Shouldn't someone be doing something for him." Tom just shook his head and looked away. One of the women broke away and ran back towards the campfires, returning a short time later with Hanson's two children. Josh Smith pulled up his knees and buried his head in his arms as he tried very hard to stifle his sobs. They waited. Two of the women finally took the two crying children back to camp and Tom cursed. He stood up suddenly finding that he was unsteady on his feet. "Come on Joshy, you've waited long enough." They made their way over and when Toby Dodds went to stop them, Tom gave him such a fierce look that he stepped aside and let them pass. Rose was kneeling on the ground beside Bill, holding tight to his hand. Hanson looked pale, almost lifeless, the gurgling sound of blood bubbling from his chest was the only indication that he clung to life. As Tom and Josh approached, Rose looked up, her eyes slightly dazed. "Oh Josh? Where have you been? Don't you want to see Bill?"   Josh Smith cast a look at the men who stood behind them. "I'm sorry Rose," was all he answered. Rose stood awkwardly with the help of Sophie Rawlings. "I'll walk for a little bit Bill," she said softly. "The pains getting worse." Josh Smith sat down beside Bill Hanson and leaned in close. "Bill?" he whispered gently as he wiped at the blood around Hanson's lips. Tom Garrard stood a discreet distance behind, watching, praying that by some miracle Bill Hanson would live. "Bill," Josh whispered again and Hanson's eyes fluttered open wearily. "Rose?" Hanson's voice was no more than a shadow. "She's still here Bill, it's all right." Smith touched Hanson's cheek in a gentle caress. "You don't have to worry Bill, I'll take care of Rose and the children. You know I love them almost as much as I love you. I'll make sure they are all right, Bill. I promise." Tom felt his own eyes fill with tears. He knew this was far worse for Smith but for once the younger man seemed to be in control, no sign now of the tears he had shed before. "Jean..." Bill Hanson murmured. It was the name of his first wife, dead these last four years. "Yes, Bill," Smith said without a pause. "Jean will be here soon too. She's waiting for you. "Love her..." Tom saw Josh Smith bite his lip and nod. "Yes and she loves you too Bill. Jean and Rose both love you." "Where's Rose?" Hanson's eyelids fluttered again and he struggled for breath. Josh looked up in alarm and O'Neill who was standing nearby called out to Rose. The young woman hurried back and resumed her vigil, taking Bills hand again. Hanson seemed to relax when he realised his wife had returned and whispered softly "Love you.." It was with a blank face that Josh Smith returned to Tom's side and the two men sat down again. There was nothing more to do now except wait and they did that in silence. Tom dozed although he wasn't aware of it until he woke with a start to find himself lying on the ground with Smith's jacket under his head. Nearby he could hear someone crying out in pain. "If yer awake Tom, I'll stitch that arm up for you. You'll be waiting for hours if you want the surgeon to do it." Seamus O'Neill was sitting beside him and thrust a flask of arrack into Tom's good hand. "Drink that first." Tom looked at Josh Smith who sat on his other side, dry eyed and sombre. "Go on Tom," Smith said wearily "Your head needs cleaning too and there's bits of your ear hanging off that will have to be removed." "How's Bill?" Tom asked, but Josh Smith simply shook his head and proceeded to help O'Neill remove Tom's jacket and shirt. October 1999 Jenny Jones Tom's Tiger Part 4 Tom must have passed out from either the arrack or the pain and when he awoke again it was to an eerie silence. He was back at the campfire under his blanket and for a moment he wondered if the night's events had all been a very bad dream. But when he moved, the pain returned and he realised that his arm and head were heavily bandaged. He struggled up in alarm, wondering what had happened. "Shh Tom, yer all right." O'Neill placed a hand on his shoulder in the darkness. "What's happened?" Tom asked in alarm knowing he wasn't making any sense. "You were shot, do you remember?" O'Neill said cautiously. "I know that!" Tom snapped back, "What about Bill? I was at the surgeons tent with Joshy" "Bill died a while ago, it's nearly dawn." The words took a while to sink in and Tom felt his head reel as he tried to gather his thoughts. "And Rose?" he asked in an unsteady voice. "She's in labour. Has been for a while. The women said it was the shock that brought it on. Shouldn't be too bad though as she was close to her time anyway." Tom lay down again and wished the whole night was just a dream. What would happen if the baby died too? What would happen if Rose died and Bill Hanson's two children were left orphaned? Would Josh be able to look after them? "Where's Josh?" he asked quickly, suddenly worried about the younger man. O'Neill shrugged his shoulders. "Don't really know, although after Bill had gone he said he was going to see Captain Morris about getting permission to marry Rose. He didn't come back." Tom groaned. No, he thought, not Morris, not tonight. Their captain would be well and truly drunk by now and looking for someone on which to take out his frustration and anger over the failed assault. "Oh Joshy," Tom sighed to himself as he closed his eyes. There was nothing else he could do. What a mess, what a terrible, terrible mess! This shouldn't have happened. Bill Hanson should be alive not dead! Suddenly Tom remembered Dick Sharpe's voice calling out in the darkness. This was all Dick's fault, Tom thought, his anguish clouding his thinking. Bloody Dick! Why was he calling out to Hakeswill? He hated Hakeswill! If he needed help why didn't he call for me! What was he doing back there, anyway? Tom hugged his blanket tighter and wished he had another flask of arrack so he could get drunk and not have to think about everything that had happened.     The sun was high in the sky when Tom awoke again. He sat up slowly; his head and arm still aching. "How are you going Tom?" Percy Peters squatted down beside him and peered into his eyes. "Seamus thought you might have been a bit addled last night. Do you feel all right?" "Yes." Tom replied. "Just thirsty." His mouth felt dry and stale. Peters brought him a cup of tea and Tom drank it gratefully. "Rose had a baby boy." Peters continued. "Strong little thing, we could hear him crying all through the camp. Rose's fine too. She's called the baby Bill." "That's good then, I'm glad she's all right. What about Josh?" "Well he organised the regimental parson to marry them as soon as Rose is on her feet again. Probably best that way, no point in waiting around. Rose is a nice girl and there's plenty who'd jump at the chance to marry her." "I need to talk with him. Do you know where he is?" Peters gave Tom a funny look. "Why Tom, did you want Rose for yourself? Did you hope to marry her?" "No!" Tom shouted, aware that his patience was rather thin today. "I just want to bloody well make sure he's all right!" "Well he's probably doing the books for Morris, or whatever he bloody well does for him." Peter's walked off, leaving Tom feeling a little guilty for having shouted at his friend. He found Josh Smith hard at work with numerous books and papers and ledgers spread out in front of him. He looked up with tired eyes when Tom poked his head into the tent. Smith looked pale; there were dark circles under his eyes. Not surprising since he'd probably had very little sleep last night. "How are you Tom?" he asked quietly. "You were sleeping rather heavily when they carried you back to camp." "I'm all right Josh." Tom replied sitting himself down on a box. "Seamus had to cut off some of your ear. Not too much, but it was all raggy. He tidied it up for you. You shouldn't notice it if you keep your hair over it." Unconsciously Tom put his hand to his ear as if his could feel the missing bits through the bandage. Smith smiled at him gently. "Don't worry Tom, it doesn't look too bad." "Are YOU all right Joshy?" Tom asked hesitantly. Smith looked down at the papers on the desk and shuffled them around. "I'm fine, I've sorted everything out with Captain Morris and I've spoken to Rose about it all. She's very grateful that I'll look after her and the children." Smith looked up, his eyes showing a glimmer of hope. "And the new baby, have you heard Tom, Rose had a boy." He smiled a weak smile and waited for Tom's reply. "Yes, it's good news Joshy, I'm glad they are both all right. But what about you! Bill...I mean...he.." Tom trailed off, his words abandoning him as he looked into the dark eyes that were trying so hard to put on a brave front. "Bill said what he had to say Tom. He was worried about Rose and the children and I told him I'd look after them. That's what he wanted and that's what I'm doing." "Yes, but.." "That's all there is to it Tom. Bill and I were friends and he asked me to look after his family. That's an honour Tom, it really is." "Yes it is Joshy and there's no one he would have trusted more than you to look after them." The lie didn't matter, Tom told himself, for surely if Bill Hanson had given it a second thought he would never have asked Tom to look after Rose and the children. Josh was the logical one, the one who wanted to do it. But more importantly, Tom could see that this new responsibility was the only thing that was keeping Josh Smith going while he struggled with his own sense of loss. "I'm very busy Tom, I'm sorry, but I really must get back to work." Tom smiled and said his goodbyes with a heavy heart. Sometime soon Josh Smith would wake up to what had happened and the dependency of Rose and the children wouldn't be nearly sufficient to carry him through his grieving. The wedding took place two days later. There had been several weddings within the regiment since the battle, it was simply the way of things, Tom mused as he watched Josh and Rose exchange vows in front of the regimental parson. Josh surprised them all by producing a small gold ring for Rose's finger, something almost unheard of within the close knit family of the Regiment. Tom wondered where Smith had procured it, but didn't like to ask. He'd had very little time with Smith since that fateful night. Tom had spent his nights alone, thinking over what had happened in the woods, hearing Dick's voice calling out. Wondering over the many different ways he might have acted that night. Perhaps he should have called out to Dick to let him know that he was close by in the darkness. Had Lawford been there too, Tom wondered? The thought of Dick and Lawford together all this time made Tom boil with jealousy.   As Tom hovered on the edge of sleep, that night, he was surprised by an arm sneaking around his waist and warm breath on his neck. "Joshy, what are you doing here?" Smith crawled in under his blanket and Tom could smell alcohol on the younger man's breath. "It's my wedding night Tom," Smith said in a voice that slurred slightly. "Do you want to fuck me?" There was such a pitiful desperation in Smith's voice that Tom ignored the crudity of the words. "You should be with Rose, Josh," he replied gently, brushing at Smith hair that was already loose. Smith just shook his head. "I'm not a fool Tom, she's just had a baby and she's heart broken over Bill. I've made sure she's comfortable and tucked up with the children. That's all she wants from me for now." Smith rolled onto his back and stared up at the stars. "If you don't want me either then don't feel you have to. I can always find Morris, he'll do it." "Oh Joshy!" Tom gathered Smith into his arms, holding him tightly as he heard the first sobs start. "You know I'll always want you," he whispered, wanting to comfort the younger man. "He didn't love me Tom, all that time and he didn't really love me." The words were hiccupped out between sobs. "I wanted to hear him say it, but he didn't." "Of course he loved you, Joshy," Tom said with a desperate hope. "But he was dying. There was probably a lot of things that he wanted to say but he simply couldn't get them out." The crying went on until Smith finally cried himself to sleep in Tom's arms. Tom lay awake long into the night thinking of the relationship between Hanson and Smith. There was certainly something there that had kept them together. Something other than sex. What it was exactly, Tom didn't know. Perhaps it was love if you had to put a name to it, for what else would you call it? The more Tom thought about it, the more he began to realise that love was far more than a feeling! It was something greater, something not governed by the whims of passion but rooted in the rational part of the mind that made loving a choice of free will rather than a fleeting emotion. With this realisation came another discovery; Tom would still love Dick Sharpe despite what he might have done. The anger and pain that Tom felt now would eventually pass but the love would remain as it always had. Tom went to sleep hoping that he would have a chance to prove his new found discovery true. October 1999 Jenny Jones Tom's Tiger Part 5   There was one small victory to come out of that dreadful night at the aqueduct, a victory that was celebrated by every man in the Light Company. Obadiah Hakeswill had been taken prisoner by the Tippoo's men and Tom indulged himself by daydreaming about the many ways in which the Sergeant might be tortured or put to death. It was however, only a small consolation when compared to his ever-increasing concern for Dick Sharpe.   The battle for Seringapatam was hard and bloody but it was made the more so for Tom Garrard by the certain knowledge that Dick Sharpe was inside the city. Whether he was a prisoner or a deserter was unclear but Tom knew that their moment of reckoning would be soon. After the victory Tom was kept busy trying to maintain order in the streets and prevent looting and sacking. It was almost dark before he was free to roam the streets in the hope of finding Dick. Josh Smith sought him out with welcome news. "I've made a check of all the deserters that were rounded up, both alive and dead and Dick wasn't among them, so he must be here somewhere," the young man said. "I'll help you look if you like?" The dark eyes looked hopeful and Tom wondered if Smith was simply trying to offer some measure of comfort, should their search prove fruitless or perhaps worse. Tom knew instinctively what parts of the city that Dick would head for but even so it was a shock to see Dick Sharpe wander from the brothel a few doors down with Lieutenant William Lawford following him like a faithful puppy. They paused as stood in the street, their fair heads bent close together as Sharpe whispered something that caused them both to laugh. A pang of jealousy, sharp as a bayonet stabbed through Tom and he strode down the street, Josh Smith hot on his heals. He was right in front of Sharpe before the blonde infantryman looked up and smiled. "Tom.." he began but that was as far as he got. "You bloody bastard!" Tom shouted and swung his fist hard into Sharpe's jaw. Sharpe fell to the ground, more in surprise than from the force of the blow and lay there in the dust with a stunned look on his face. "Now look here Private Garrard.." Lawford began, his blue eyes angry and fair lashes blinking. "That's no way to treat Richard..er, Private Sharpe. He's a hero." Tom bit off the remark that was on the tip of his tongue and tried to harness his anger. "It's all right, Sir." Sharpe began as he slowly climbed to his feet rubbing his jaw. "Tom didn't mean anything by it." The green eyes sought Tom's warily. "Did yer Tom?" Tom looked away, not wanting to meet his friend's eyes for fear of what his own would show. "No, I'm sorry Sir, it was just a shock to see you both here and all. I've been worried." "Private Sharpe has been on a special mission with me. He's going to be rewarded for his part, made a Sergeant." Lawford declared. He looked expectantly at Tom, as if he expected this statement would to put all to rights but it was met with a stony silence. Lawford's gaze travelled to Smith who was looking at his feet before finally settling on Sharpe who slowly looked away. The Lieutenant blushed slightly as he realised that things had returned to normal and that it was no longer appropriate for him to be standing in the street arguing with a group of Privates. "Well, um..I'll leave you to it then Sharpe." Lawford paused as if waiting for some sort of reply but receiving none, turned and left. Sharpe watched him go, his eyes following the tall slim figure until it was out of sight before turning back to Tom. He raised one eyebrow as if waiting for an explanation. But Tom just stood mute, suddenly at a loss for words. He didn't know where to start and was completely unable to ask the most important of his questions; why? "I'd better be getting back to camp," It was Smith who broke the awkward silence. "Don't want to leave Rose and the children on their own for too long with all this madness going on." "Bill too busy looting to do it Joshy?" Dick's joke was met by silence. "Bill's dead." Tom said flatly. "He died the night we tried to clear out the Tope." There was a look of shock and disbelief on Dick's face and Tom waited, not wanting to speak or make accusations, because it was clear that Sharpe already blamed himself. He turned to Smith. "I'll see you tomorrow Josh. Let the lads know that Dick's here and he's been in prison." "Yeah Josh, tell the lads I'll see them all tomorrow." Sharpe said absently, his eyes still blank. When Smith had left, Sharpe took a hold of Tom's sleeve and tugged him back towards the brothel. "Come on, we can get a room here and have a talk. We need a bit of quiet I reckon." Sharpe licked his lips and added as an after thought, "And a drink wouldn't go astray." It was more than obvious that Sharpe was well known to the women here, but Tom was unprepared for the tall girl named Lali asking if Mr Lawford would be returning too. Tom waited until they were alone in a small room upstairs before speaking. "So you and Lawford came here a lot?" Sharpe tried to hide his smile at Tom's question. "Once or twice," he said with a grin, leaving Tom disgusted. "So while I was worried sick over what had happened to you, you and bloody Lawford were fucking away in a bloody heathen brothel?" Tom threw his pack down amid the gaudy cushions that covered the floor and looked around at the exotic room, with it's lurid murals and heady smell of incense, so far removed from his father's farm in Ripon. Bloody India! He hated the place. Sharpe's stepped closer to Tom, his look sobering. "It wasn't like that at all." Sharpe began quietly. "We were posing as deserters so we had to play the part. But then they found out we were spies thanks to bloody Hakeswill! Threw us both in a filthy dungeon." "Spies?" Tom asked. "Yes, Wellesley sent us to rescue General McCandless and find out what he knew." Sharpe continued. "Why you, why not someone else?" Tom asked sullenly, still not completely satisfied. "Lawford asked for me to save my bloody life!" Sharpe replied raising his voice. "Or have you forgotten they were giving me 2000 lashes?" Sharpe ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair and Tom realised how tired his friend looked. As he poured them each a cup of arrack he suddenly felt chastened. "No, I haven't forgotten. I've been worried about you." He handed a cup to Sharpe. "So how's yer back now?" he asked quietly, sitting down on a pile of brightly coloured cushions. "It's all right. Lawford looked after me. A Hindi doctor gave me some salve and Lawford helped me rub it in each night and change my bandages." Sharpe sat down also, stretching his long lean legs out in front and taking off his boots. "Hmmph, I bet he liked that too. Have yer had him yet?" Tom couldn't help his jealously bubbling up again. There was a flash of anger in Sharpe's green eyes and Tom looked away. "NO, I haven't." Sharpe levelled his gaze at Tom and asked. "What about you? Who have you been with while I've been rotting in a stinking dungeon? Josh?" Christ, Tom thought, I asked for that. "It was only because I thought you'd left me, Dick." Tom began, knowing he had no real reason to feel such guilt, but feeling it all the same. "You just up and left with Mary Bickerstaff, not saying anything, I felt so...I was.." But Dick just grinned and laughed a little, and Tom realised that his friend wasn't even angry. "Shit Tom, don't worry so. I'm not jealous like Bill Hanson." The mention of Hanson again chased away the mirth. "So was it before or after Bill died?" Dick's eyes strayed to the Tom's frayed ear. "Did Bill do that when he found out?" he asked, gently touching the mutilated ear. Tom shook his head. "We were both hit that night at the aqueduct in the ambush you set up Dick. That's what it was, wasn't it? I've had plenty of time to think about what happened that night and you were trying to set us up. That's why you called for Hakeswill." "It didn't go the way I wanted it to, I didn't know who was going to be there, I swear I didn't." Sharpe's voice sounded hollow and he sat with his face turned away for a long time before looking back again. Tom wanted to reach out to Dick, to take him in his arms and hold him again. He remembered how he had dreamed of this moment while they were separated but now it all seemed wrong and awkward. As if sensing Tom's thoughts Sharpe took a hold of Tom's hand but there was still too many questions between them. "Why did yer take Mary Bickerstaff with you and where is she now?" If they were going to sit here all night then they may as well keep talking. "I took her with me to get her away from Morris and Hakeswill of course. She'd have been fair game if I hadn't. She took up with some darky quickly enough though. But she helped us escape the prison, she was a good lass." Sharpe lay back on the cushions and closed his eyes wearily. "And what about me Dick? Why didn't yer tell me?" Tom held his breath as he waited for the answer to the question that had plagued him for so long. "If I'd have told you, you would have wanted to come along too. There's no way that you would have stayed behind. Lawford would have ordered you to go back of course, but you would have followed anyway. I know you Tom." Sharpe opened his green eyes which looked sad and tired. "Trouble is, if you had done that, then you really would have been deserting and they would have hung you Tom, if they caught you. I couldn't risk that. I just couldn't." Tom downed the last of his arrack and lay back on the cushions beside Sharpe. "Don't be angry Tom, I was thinking of you." Sharpe said wearily as if he had thought it over in his mind many times. "And while you were with Lawford? Did yer think of me then?" He didn't want to feel this jealousy, but he couldn't help it. The two men had seemed so at ease in each other's company when Tom had spotted them. Sharpe's silence was all the answer that Tom needed. "You want him, don't you? You mightn't have had him, but yer want him and he wants you!" "Do you want to know the truth of it Tom?" Sharpe voice sounded strangely defenceless as if somehow Tom had broken down all the walls that his friend usually hid behind. He wished he could take the question back because he didn't want to hear the truth, suddenly afraid. "I do want him, more than I can explain. I've never wanted a man the way I want him, Tom. I've been with plenty, but I've never felt this way before." It wasn't said to hurt him, Tom realised. Sharpe was simply answering the question. Tom knew should feel honoured at his friend's trust; that Dick felt he could tell this to Tom. But that didn't erase the hurt. "And it's more than just lust too." Sharpe continued, his eyes far away as he thought about Lawford. "He's so...fine, so much better than I am and yet he wants me too." Sharpe rolled onto his side his eyes catching Tom's and seeing the agony there. "It's not like it was with Hughes, Tom, if that's what yer thinking. I liked Hughes, he was good to me, but that's all it was." The green eyes looked deeper. "And with you Tom, well at first I only offered because I felt I owed yer something. Yer'd been so good to me Tom and I wanted to repay you. When you kept refusing yer just made me curious, I couldn't understand it." Sharpe cracked a half smile. "You were a challenge Tom, one I had to win. Afterwards of course I realised it was different with you. We're mates Tom, first and always. Nothing's going to change that." Sharpe stopped talking and belatedly Tom understood that his friend was trying to explain their own relationship in a way that would soften the blow. Well he'd asked for honesty and he'd got it. They'd never really voiced their feelings so perhaps it was as much Tom's fault as it was Sharpe's. "And what about Lawford?" Tom had to know. There was no use trying to hide from reality. "Does he feel like this too?" "Yes." Sharpe didn't have to elaborate for Tom had been aware of their Lieutenant's infatuation with his friend for quite some time. They lay together in silence, each man with his own thoughts until Sharpe rolled over and lay his head on Tom's shoulder. "I don't want to talk any more, Tom." The whisper against his throat made Tom shiver, as did the persistent fingers that began unbuttoning his jacket. More than anything Tom wanted to hold Sharpe in his arms and make love like they used to. But even as they both undressed, Sharpe's words were still tumbling through Tom's mind. Dick always lost his head when it came to women, and perhaps what he felt for Lawford wasn't that different. All of the women that Dick seemed to be attracted too were usually above him in station. Tom remembered Margaret Dowling, and even Mary Bickerstaff was considered a 'sergeants woman', far too pretty for a common private. Yes Dick always aimed high and Lawford looked like he belonged with the angels! Perhaps Dick was just dazzled by Lawford's looks and fine manners? If so then Tom had nothing to fear, did he? "What happened to yer arm Tom?" Dick's finders gently stroked the scar where the bullet had passed through his left arm. "I was shot through the arm that night too." Tom said almost absently as he lay back looking up into the green eyes. Sharpe's fingers moved across and spread out over Tom's chest. "A few more inches and it would have been yer heart Tom." It was true, but Tom had not realised it until this moment. Sharpe turned away and finished unbuttoning his own shirt. As it fell away, Tom gazed on his back, the new flesh red and puckered. "It's all right Tom, you can touch it, it doesn't hurt." Tom gently laid his hand against Sharpe's back and felt once more the terrible helplessness of being unable to protect his friend. For so long, Tom had seen himself as Sharpe's protector, only to fail in that sacred trust at the time when Dick needed him most. But Lawford had not failed. Lawford had done what Tom could not. It was as if time stood still for a moment, Tom felt the change so keenly. As if a comet streaked across the sky and in the aftermath the stars had somehow changed their positions. It was something that Tom could not ignore, that from now on it would be Lawford who would help Sharpe in ways that Tom could not. Perhaps it was only right, for Dick Sharpe held a spark that set him aside from other men. Tom saw it, Hughes had seen it and no doubt it was this that drew Lawford also. As sure as the sun rose each morning, Dick Sharpe would continue to rise above mediocrity and leave behind his humble origins. He would go where Tom could not follow and it would be men like Lawford who would walk beside him, showing him the path and providing companionship. "Come on Tom, don't look so sad. We both survived." Sharpe moved closer, his eyes full of want and hope flared again in Tom's heart. Perhaps he could make Dick forget about Lawford, forget Lawford's soft beauty and genteel manners. He searched desperately for what to do, and how to do it, trying to think for once as Sharpe thought, with his body and not his heart. For a moment Tom considered using words and finally confessing the love that he felt, but a confession such as that would most likely drive Dick away rather than draw him closer. Dick's fingers strayed through Tom's hair to the remains of his ear and he smiled faintly. "Yer getting quite a collection of scars yer know Tom," he whispered breathlessly as he commenced kissing his way down Tom's neck. But the words left Tom feeling cold inside, as he compared his own looks to Lawford's beauty and found himself lacking. "I've missed you so, Dick," Tom whispered desperately as Sharpe pushed him backward onto the cushions. "I want you so much." He relinquished his control, gave up his body because he knew that was what Dick wanted. Perhaps it was his submission that Sharpe valued most? Tom knew that few others had ever offered that to his friend. Would Lawford? Probably, Tom decided. Lawford didn't look to be the domineering type. So what else could Tom offer to Dick that would be unique? He remembered what Dick had said once about his gentleness. Tom had wondered at the time if Dick was merely making fun of him, laughing at him because he felt that such a quality was better suited to women. Dick suddenly bit him hard on the neck and Tom bit back because Dick liked to get rough at times too. Perhaps he should just follow Dick's lead like he usually did letting Dick set the pace and tone. The more Tom tried to be what he thought Dick wanted him to be, the harder it became to involve himself in it all. He wished he could stop thinking and loose himself in the feeling for surely Dick must be aware by now of his lack of response. But Dick was breathing hard and groaning, thrusting hard, too far gone in passion to be aware that anything was wrong. Tom tried one more time to leave his fears behind, but Dick's words from earlier came back to haunt Tom......I only offered because I felt I owed yer something. Oh yes, Dick used sex to repay his debts or to cheer up a friend when he felt he'd let him down. Was that what Sharpe was doing now? Finally it was over and Dick slumped down, his body hot and sweaty. Tom cradled him in his arms waiting for Dick's questions, but they never came. As he looked at Dick Sharpe sleeping peacefully, oblivious to his pain, Tom felt the keen ache of disappointment that came with a new realisation; that sometimes you can give a person everything you have and it still isn't enough.   The End October 1999