It's Five O' Clock Somewhere

[Alan]

Alan liked being drunk. There was something so deliciously fuzzy about it.  Like the way you woke up the next morning without any memory of the previous night, the only proof that it happened being the headache from hellgates and the bucket on the pillow next to you that apparently you?d slept with.  But even with the pain and misery, you could be guilt free.  Because even the most gory, cold-blooded atrocities that you might have committed the night before, would have been washed away in the flood of alcohol surging through your veins.


Unfortunately, he had not been that drunk.


?Captain Blacktip, sir, rise and shine.?

Alan moaned and shut his eyes tighter against the sudden flood of sunlight on his face.  Guilt free mornings did not always make up for the headache from hell.

?Radish,? he snarled, ?If you don?t close those curtains by the time I count to three I?ll eat your tail for breakfast.?

The light remained.

?Yes sir, sorry sir, but your troops are waiting on the grounds for inspection, and Lord Tirian gave you your orders yesterday about what to tell them concerning the slaves.?

?One.?

?And your mother wrote, she wants to know about your brother.   Also, she?s rather irate that she and your father were not invited to tonight?s feast.?

?Two!?

?Sir, what shall I do with this??

Alan cracked one eye open, and glared at the little mouse holding up an article of clothing that was decidedly... female.  He squinted at it.

?How in ?gates should I know? If its owner isn?t somewhere in here then throw it away.?
                             
Radish dropped the whatever-it-was in the dustbin, and continued bustling around the room, picking up discarded clothing and putting the cork back into an empty wine sack.  The mink growled and sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

?What time is it??



?Time for you to be briefing your troops, sir.  After that you have your weekly report to Overseer Yvo, and I?m afraid that Sergeant Airya has some words for you.?

Alan forced himself out from under his covers and stumbled over to the wash basin set up by his closet.  ?Tell her I can?t see her.?

?I did sir, she said you would.?

?I will not.?

?In that case sir, she said that-?

There was a loud knocking on the door.

?Sergeant Airya to see you sir,? said Radish, heading for the door.

?Don?t you dare!? snapped Alan, snatching his pants from Radish and stuffing his leg in.  ?Tell her I?m indisposed!?

The knocking got louder, and Alan tripped as he tried to put his right leg in with his left.

?Other leg, sir,? said Radish as he reached the door.

?Radish, if you-?

?Captain Blacktip!?

Through the door bustled a female rat in full dress uniform, her heavy cheeks jiggling with each step.  Despite his admirable powers of retaining almost as much alcohol as blood, Alan?s disturbed stomach threatened to give up everything then and there.  Coming to the middle of the room, Sergeant Airya came to a full stop and saluted smartly.

?Captain!?

Closing his eyes, Alan wrestled himself up from the floor and, with as much dignity as possible, got his legs untangled and his pants buttoned up. Then, standing at his full height, he crossed his arms and nodded frigidly at Airya?s salute.

?At ease,? he snapped.

She rushed into her next words with such haste that spittle flew out of her mouth.  ?Captain, it has been brought to my attention that you have put up young Brutus for promotion to Lieutenant, and I have some choice words to say about-?

?Yes, thank you Sergeant, is that all??  Alan glared past her shoulder at Radish as the mouse inspected his claws.

Airya?s mouth hung open.  ?Sir!  He failed his preliminary testing twice!  He completely bungled your orders last season concerning the disappearance of the first beast that turned out to have been murdered by the ghosts!  He?s a slob, comes late to drill, and-?

?Sergeant, if all you?ve come to do is complain about your fellow officers you are dismissed.?

Alan turned and picked up his breastplate from where Radish had set it neatly on a chair.

?With all due respect, Captain, your actions are causing me to doubt your authority.  First there was the, forgive me, somewhat brutal execution of Private Kurt, who may not have even been at fault, and now, with the promotion of obvious bunglers, I?m tempted to write my own report with-?

Alan threw his breastplate back onto the floor with a crash.

?I followed orders, Sergeant!? His voice was harsh and cold in the silence of the room.  ?No one knew Kurt?s history better than I, and presented with the evidence that I was, I did the most merciful thing I could do!?

He turned slowly to glare at the female rat.  ?I?ve been a captain for three seasons now, and I?ve seen what our esteemed masters are capable of.  Would you have had me put him up for trial, and turned him over to the mercies of our great overseer under Lord Tirian?  I spared him weeks of solitude alone in a cold cell, followed byVulpuz knows the intensity of the torment that Yvo can dish out.  And you dare to question my authority concerning the promotion of a very promising young beast instead of putting forth your disgusting and self proclaiming carcass.?  He stopped and spat on the floor.

Airya looked at the floor, her heavy cheeks quivering as she bit her lip.  ?Sir I-?

?Get out of here,? Alan snarled.

Without another word she turned and stumbled out.  Radish shut the door after her.

?That was harsh,? he commented.

?Shut up and help me with this confounded thing.?  Alan threw his breastplate at the mouse.  Radish caught it expertly and examined where it had hit the floor in Alan?s rage.

?Nasty dent, sir.?

?Shut up.?

?As you say, Captain.?


                                                       *   *   *

Alan looked at his assembled troops and cleared his throat.

?As you all know, today has been proclaimed a day of feasting to celebrate the completion of our master's great fortress.  However, due to the increased activity of our still unknown adversaries, the slaves will be remaining for another few weeks before being released.?

There were snickers from the crowd.  Alan allowed a tight grin.  ?Yes, lovely.  However, that makes more work for us.  Many of the slaves expect to be going home tomorrow, and it?s our job to?  let us say, assure them that this is not the case.?

There was movement in the corner of his eye, and Alan glanced across the grounds to see the young builder, Tobias, exiting the main hall.  He turned back to his troops.

?Violence is discouraged, as there have been enough deaths from the ghosts.  However, use whatever means necessary.  Meanwhile,? he spread his paws, ?enjoy the feast.?


There was a cheer, and then the ranks broke as each beast went about his business.

?Quite the inspiring speech, Captain.?


Alan looked over at Tobias standing few paces away.  ?I?m not a public speaker, I?m an army captain.?

The architect laughed.  ?Still, there has to be a better way to say, ?Hey look, a celebration!  Get drunk, but you?re all still on duty.  By the way, don?t kill anybody.??

Alan scowled.  ?All right, next time I?ll come to you for my speeches.  Radish!?

?Here, sir.?


?Go do whatever it is you do for awhile.  I?m going for a drink.?

As the mouse scuttled away, Tobias raised an eyebrow.  ?Little early for a drink, but according to the state of the cellar this morning, I suppose that technically you are simply continuing from last night.?

Alan put his arm around the younger mink's shoulders.  ?Wouldn?t do you any harm to join me.  And maybe then I could get you drunk before you have a chance to ask that new mink girl to the feast.?

Tobias snorted.  ?Small chance.  She?s mine, Alan, I saw her first.?


Alan winked.  ?That may be, but I can guarantee you that I?ll get her first.?

?You cad!?

?That?s Captain to you.?

?You?re disgusting.?

Alan grinned.  ?Thank you.  Fates, it?s too early in the morning to be up.?


The younger mink snorted.  ?It?s past noon.?

?That?s what I said.?

Despite Alan's insistence, Tobias declined the drink.  Alan snagged a passing rabbit girl and ordered her to find Radish, who, upon appearing, he sent to retrieve a full wineskin from the cellar to Alan in his quarters.  As far as Alan was concerned, only slaves and nobodies fetched their own drinks. 

?Anything else, sir??  The mouse hovered.

"Have my other uniform laundered and pressed for tonight," Alan said, organizing papers on his desk between swigs from the skin.  "And don't let anyone in."

Desk work, in Alan?s opinion, was for other beasts.  However, it came with the job of Captain and aside from his weekly report to Yvo, signing forms was about as complicated as it got.  He stared at the blank paper in front of him and took a drink of the wine. 
                                                                                                               
To Overseer Yvo, weekly report from Captain Blacktip.  Actions regarding Lord Tirian?s orders as follows:

Keep it simple.

He had passed half an hour in this fashion, a mild dizzy haze settling behind his eyes and soothing the headache from the night before until there was a tapping on his door.  Alan scowled; if somebeast unimportant was coming to bother him, then Radish was not doing his job.

"Radish!" he growled.  "I told you not to let anyone in!"

He heard the door swing open behind him, and turned in his chair to see Airya standing there.

?What in the name of Vulpuz are you wearing??  Alan stared at the ruffled gown that showed all the wrong curves, and the laughter came despite his best efforts.

?Are..?  the rattess was purple under her fur.  She took a deep breath.  ?Are you taking anyone to the feast tonight?? 

"No,? he choked out.  ?Ahem.  No.  But I intend to leave with someone.  However, it?s decidedly not you.  Despite your ruffles.?

Radish poked his nose around the departing female.  ?The feast has started sir, and your attendance is appreciated.  Lord Tirian likes to see all his officers in their places, at least for the start of the feast.  And you know the Lady of the castle does not like to be kept waiting.?