#to clarify on my point about goodsir's niceness: i don't think that his being nice is a facade like hickey's is

[trophywifejimgordon]

not shipping, exactly, except that it is, but... goodsir/hickey works so well for me. what if there were these two characters who were foils. and, what if they both started out as minor players against an initial drama of wardroom officers who eclipse the sun?

goodsir is a surgeon, not a doctor, and an assistant surgeon at that, while hickey is a lowly caulker's mate; they both go unseen, and they both want to go unseen, until circumstances make that impossible for the people that they are--goodsir becomes the only one left, the last doctor, while hickey's dubious survival instincts kick in for him and he starts to do what he thinks it takes to survive. and then they're thrust onto this greater stage with everyone who ever overlooked them, but once there, they see each other.

goodsir sees through hickey's flattery and guileful presentation the first time it's turned on him, and he doesn't even bother to conceal it. hickey looks at goodsir and immediately clocks his potential, or at least his usefulness. and... there's a kind of peace in all that. what if there was a kind surgeon in this unkind world, and he found the one person who didn't expect or want that kindness to translate into subservient niceness? what if there was a man who was less a man than a collection of stolen traits and careful deceptions, and he found the one person who could see through all of them? at the very least, one imagines it might be freeing.