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"Eirnin, if you think I'm going out there and talking to him you're out of your damn mind."
"I am not the head of this household."
His husband's tone is calm - measured, even pleasant. He is relaxed - nose in a book, as a matter of fact, and is that a cup of tea that Hal spots in his hand?
Hal flops into a chair, and gives Eirnin a frank gaze.
"Well I'm certainly not - I'm a bloody pirate."
"I do not recall the pastor mentioning that he wished to see the head of the household provided that person was a decent, upstanding, god-fearing man," Eirnin answers. "In fact, I daresay the boy has come to the island to save souls." He snorts at the thought, and Hal frowns.
"Well then why don't you go out and see to it that the lad has a soft landing, so to speak, rather than a knife in his gullet when he tries to convert someone like Teach?"
"I believe the head of household is generally taken to be the one considered most responsible. That cannot, by simple logic, fall to me."
"How the fuck do you figure that?"
"You," Eirnin answers, "are an officer of a sort, yes? Quartermaster aboard your ship?"
Hal rolls his eyes.
"Just because the men can't find their arses with both hands and a map and I happen to be able to keep them from murdering each other occasionally does not make me somehow more responsible than you. You were a fucking admiral!"
"I was," Eirnin agrees. "Note the past tense."
"You're a successful business owner! A pillar of the community!"
"A community full of pirates, women of dubious repute, the desperate, the depraved, and the damned," Eirnin answers, and Gates raises one eyebrow.
"If I were caught, they'd hang me for piracy. If you were to be taken in right now, the worst anyone could say you've done is to-"
"In the unlikely case that I were to be apprehended without Charles, James, or you yourself rearranging someone's innards and preventing it, the charge sheet against me would read as though someone had decided to read aloud from a book of law," Eirnin says dryly. "Let me see - desertion in a time of war. Treason. Murder, of a lord, no less. Aiding and abetting piracy. Receiving stolen goods. Harboring pirates. Forgery. Prison-breaking. Deceit with intent to commit a crime. Bribery. Harboring sodomites. Sodomitical -"
"Jesus, alright!"
Eirnin grins.
"I trust I've made my point?"
Hal can't help it - he grins in return, and wonders just exactly when his husband became so skilled at talking him into things.
"That's - quite a list, love," Hal says finally, getting his breath back, and Eirnin shrugs.
“I regret none of it,” he says - and that is the moment that Thomas sticks his head through the door.
“Regret none of what?” he asks, and Hennessey turns.
“The actions I took which led us here or the situation in which I now find myself in regards to the pastor and his demands,” he answers. Thomas quirks one eyebrow.
“He’s asking to see the head of the household,” Gates informs him, and Thomas’ other brow joins the first.
“Well it certainly isn’t me,” he says, and Gates snorts.
“I know that,” he says. “Apparently it isn’t Eirnin, either. Question is which one of you is actually less responsible.”
“Nine capital crimes,” Eirnin repeats, and Thomas turns, startled.
“Nine?” he asks, and Eirnin nods.
“If I’ve counted them correctly. God knows they’ve probably found a way to make the others punishable by death as well in the interim.”
“I would like to point out that I’ve committed only -” Thomas stops. “Alright, it can’t be more than five such transgressions,” he says after a moment’s consideration, and Gates snorts.
“Yes, but Eirnin here doesn’t spend his time chasing chickens ‘round the yard or teaching Walrus to go and drag innocent bystanders through the streets,” he says. “And he also wasn’t the bloody idiot that’s recruited Charles Vane to help him put a stop to slavery on the island and in the process brought the pastor to our door.”
“It’s vile, Hal,” Thomas answers. “If Pastor Lambrick takes issue with that view, then perhaps he should re-read his own holy text.”
Gates rolls his eyes.
“You’ll hear no argument from me,” Eirnin says, “but you will forgive me when I say that I should prefer it if he received his lesson in Christian charity somewhere further removed than the front parlor. You’re kicking at a hornet’s nest, my lad.”
“Aye,” Hal agrees. “Which just goes to show that none of us should be the one to answer the sanctimonious prick.”
“James-” Thomas starts to say, and then subsides. “No - best not,” he says, looking at touch concerned, and then brightens again. “You realize this makes me more responsible than someone?” he asks, and Hennessey groans.
“No, I refuse to have it,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I am not less accountable than my own son-in-law.”
“Less responsible than Miranda, though,” Gates says, and Thomas snorts.
“We’re all less responsible than Miranda,” he says, and then, as one, they look at each other.
“I’m sure she’s already aware,” Hennessey says contemplatively. “There’s no need to make it formal.”
“There’s every reason,” Thomas says, also flopping into a chair. “I’ll say it here and now. I abdicate. All hail Queen Miranda, long may she reign, as I’ve certainly no desire to. Besides - she deserves to hear it now and again.”
“Sap,” Hal murmurs fondly. “Should one of us go tell the Pastor?”
“Let him stew,” Hennessey says. “Besides - I’m certain our newly named sovereign will have already brought the man in for tea -”
They look at one another in sudden realization, and then to the door, where Miranda stands, one eyebrow raised.
“If one of my subjects could possibly put the kettle on, I should appreciate it greatly,” she says, eyes sparkling, and all three men jump to their feet, suddenly bustling about the kitchen - or, in Thomas’ case, grinning up at his wife.
“Congratulations, your Majesty,” he says, and rises to give her an overly formal, ridiculously elaborate bow.
“You,” she says, “might just make a courtier’s rank. Now - come and join us, and I shall attempt to talk the Pastor into aiding in your latest crusade.”