Caution (for
elessil simply because the first one was.)
Sands watches him warily from behind dark sunglasses - except, as Norrington now knows, he can’t possibly be watching him. The caution is all contained in his perfect knife-edge stillness, the way Sands is making absolutely no noise himself in order for there to be nothing to interfere with his hearing the rest of the world. There’s a hint of defiance in his posture, much more than just a hint of hostility, and a sense of waiting for something - his reaction, the Commodore realises. He recognises a test when he sees one.
"I suspect," Norrington says finally, "that even thinking about pitying you would be a nice, quick way to commit suicide. Or perhaps," he lets affection and sardonic amusement creep their way back into his voice "neither nice nor quick."
Sands relaxes imperceptibly - almost imperceptibly - his fingers tapping idly against the table, and Norrington lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.