Master and Commander - 4. Chapter 4

April 17, 1794

“And what sort of problem do we have Mr. Andrews?” Granger asked. He didn't want to be interrupted, he wanted Calvert to fuck him; alas, duty came first. But did it have to be a problem?

“Sir, I opened up the cask of salt beef for dinner and it was rancid. I was going to bring a piece to show you sir, but it was so horrible I didn't want to ruin your dinner,” Andrews said.

“Thank you. I will look at it later. How many casks are rotten?” Granger asked. He was not in the mood to deal with rotten meat. He was in the mood to get laid.

“We don't know yet. We had to dig past the entire first tier to get to some that were acceptable. With your permission sir, we'll begin hoisting them up and evaluating them in the morning.”

The whole first tier was rotten? That did much to focus Granger's attention away from his libido. This was no mere problem, this was a crisis. Waiting until morning went against all of Granger's training and instincts, but it would be easier and safer to do in daylight, so he yielded. “Very well. We can convene a court of inquiry and formally condemn those casks that are foul. Then we can dump the contents overboard and clean the casks out.”

“Aye aye sir,” Andrews said, and then hesitated.

“Are we in immediate danger of running out of food?” Granger asked.

“No sir. The livestock we have on board, and begging your pardon, but the personal stores you brought and those acquired by the wardroom will ensure we don't starve, even if all the casks are rotten. I don't think they all are.”

“Why not?” Granger asked.

“The numbers on the casks aren't sequential. I think that the casks in the second tier are almost all from the same yard, and the cask we pulled out from that grouping was good.”

“Still, losing half of our beef and pork will cut our endurance down to somewhere just over a month,” Granger said. He went into his office followed by Calvert and Andrews. “We should be off the coast of Spain by morning,” Granger said, pointing to La Coruna. “Depending on the winds, we may be able to make St. Helena with only half our food.”

“Mr. Carslake is worried about the doldrums sir,” Calvert added. It would be a fine thing for Granger's first command to have his crew starve to death in the middle of the South Atlantic.

“We'll see where we stand tomorrow after we inspect all the casks. We have a perfect northerly wind, and it seems designed to give us maximum speed, so I am loath to waste it by putting into port,” Granger observed. Time was critical. He wanted to meet the convoy at St. Helena.

“Well beyond Spain there's the island of Madeira, or Tenerife,” Calvert pointed out. “Madeira is Portuguese while Tenerife is Spanish. Surely the Portuguese will sell us some food, while Spain is our ally sir.”

“The Portuguese will sell us food for a price, sir,” Andrews said. “We could make Gibraltar and resupply there.”

Andrews’s suggestion was logical from his point of view. It would be much easier to victual in a British port. “We could end up trapped in the Straights for days,” Granger said, shaking his head. No one dealt with the fluky winds around Gibraltar unless they had to. “No, we'll press on as long as we have a fair wind. We'll address this issue at first light.”

“Aye aye sir,” Calvert and Andrews both said.

“Was there something else Mr. Andrews?” Granger asked. Would the man never leave?

“I hope you won't hold this against me sir. I wasn't on board when these casks were loaded. This much waste would make this voyage quite expensive for me.”

Granger smiled. “Mr. Andrews, you can't possibly be held responsible, and I will see that you are not. Keeping the men fed, with good food, and providing them with fruit to fight scurvy, is paramount. If you had been aboard, and these casks had been shipped, you would have to answer for it. Since you weren't, you aren't responsible. I will make a note of it in the report.”

“Thank you sir,” he said, actually smiling, and practically fled from the cabin.

“So far he seems to be an anomaly sir,” Calvert observed.

“How so?” Granger asked.

“An honest purser. A rare breed, sir.”

“Honest? You have proof of this amazing feat?” Granger teased.

“I do. But is that what you really want to talk about?” Calvert asked.

“No, it isn't,” Granger said and guided Calvert into his sleeping cabin. They undressed, which went quickly since they were dressed so casually, and then they were in the dimly lit cabin, naked, staring at each other, taking in each other's true beauty: Granger, with his thin, agile body, almost as bereft of hair as Calvert, but the hair that was there, that golden blond hair, seemed like a halo around his nice six and a half-inch dick. Calvert, with a frame the same size, albeit with more muscles and his huge dick jutting out from his groin, making his pubic bush seem insignificant.

Granger reached out and took Calvert's naked dick in his hand for the first time and stroked it gently. He looked into Calvert's eyes in time to see him inhale sharply at the physical contact. Granger used Calvert's dick to pull them together, and then they embraced, their mouths met again, their tongues intertwined, and their arms wrapped around each other, pulling themselves as tightly together as possible.

Granger moved his hand down Calvert's back to his ass, that beautiful, muscular ass with its irresistible dimples, and felt Calvert flex his cheeks playfully. They broke their embrace long enough to move to Granger's cot. Granger got in first, lying on his right side facing Calvert, who lay on his left. “This is like a dream come true,” Calvert murmured huskily into Granger's ear, his deep, melodic voice like an aphrodisiac. He moved his hips forward so his cock and Granger's were rubbing against each other, then he took his large hand and wrapped it around both of their dicks and started gently stroking them.

Granger moaned at the feeling of the hand stroking him, and of Calvert's huge dick smashed next to his. He kissed Calvert, using both of his hands to hold Calvert's face, to stroke his hair lovingly. Calvert picked up his pace, and Granger felt his own orgasm rising. He broke off their kiss abruptly. “Gonna cum!” he said urgently. “Gonna cum!”

“Me too!” Calvert said, and then he started exploding. His semen lubricated his hand, and it began sliding up and down their cocks freely, and that just set Granger free. He arched his head back, barely remembering to stifle his screams, and then blasted his load into the space between them. He panted and blasted for what seemed like an eternity, and then he was spent. Calvert grinned at him and he grinned right back. “That was just the appetizer,” Calvert said.

“It was eh?” Granger said, and scooped some of their cum up, their loads having blended together as they'd blown, and sucked it off his fingers.

Calvert laughed. “You are the sexiest man I have ever met.”

“And you've only had the appetizer,” Granger teased back. With Travers, after he'd cum, he liked to snuggle up to Travers’ chest, but with Calvert, they just lay there side by side, gazing into each other's eyes and smiling. The connection between them was intense, so intense it was amazing.

“Do I have to call you sir when I'm cumming?” Calvert teased.

“No, when we're in bed, or fucking around, I want you to call me George,” Granger said, stroking Calvert's smooth cheek.

“It's a deal, as long as you call me Francis,” Calvert said, then leaned in and kissed him. “When we're on deck though, I promise I'll behave as if this never happened.”

“Good,” Granger said, then pushed him onto his back, taking control. He gently kissed Calvert’s neck, admiring its length and the muscles that spread out to his shoulders. Then Granger began moving down, kissing his chest and sucking on his cute, minute little nipples. He ran his tongue around the bottom of Calvert's pectoral muscles and nuzzled into his armpits, taking in his scent. It was strong, but not unpleasant, and Granger took that opportunity to get used to it, to memorize it, to savor it. Then he playfully took a few of Calvert's pit hairs between his teeth and pulled a little, getting a yelp in return.

“Hey!” Calvert teased, and reached down to pinch Granger's nipple. But even then his pinch wasn't hard, and it ended up being pleasant, not painful. Granger moved his mouth lower, to Calvert's cum-covered abdomen. Most of their load had splattered on Calvert, so Granger licked his stomach clean, being as seductive as possible. He looked up at Calvert as he did it and noticed that his smile had vanished, replaced by the look of someone who was really turned on. Granger wanted to stay longer, to enjoy Calvert’s belly button, but his hormones were kicking in now, and he couldn't wait. He moved lower to where Calvert's big dick had regained its hardness, and took it into his mouth.

Calvert moaned and thrust his hips up, appreciating Granger's amazing oral skills and begging for more. Granger went slowly, his plan not to make Calvert cum, but to get to know this massive organ, to taste it, to appreciate every rib, every vein. He felt Calvert getting excited, too excited, so he moved down and nuzzled his balls, sucking on one, then the other. Now he really smelled Calvert's true, male scent, not just his body odor, and it was marvelous. He had to have more. He moved down so he was between Calvert's legs and pushed his legs up, then moved his nose down into Calvert's taint. Here the aroma, the smell of this man, was irresistible. He had a strong male odor with its own unique tanginess, an odor that was driving Granger wild. Lower and lower he went until he found Calvert's cute little pucker. He ran his tongue around the edge, eliciting a sharp moan, then a sigh from Calvert. Then he dove in, licking, probing, working Calvert's hole with his mouth, Calvert's soft moans and his strong smell merely urging Granger on.

Granger felt something pressing against his hand and looked up and met Calvert's eyes. Calvert had Granger's jar of lanolin and was handing it to him. “Come on George. I want you. Make love to me,” he said. His voice was so sexy; his eyes spoke of the urgency of his lust.

Granger took the lanolin and slathered it on the ass he'd just licked. He moved his mouth back onto Calvert's dick, keeping him keyed up while he used one finger to probe him. He felt Calvert resist, felt his hole fight back against this intruder, but Granger knew what he was doing. He took his time, alternately pushing his finger in then taking it out, all the while playfully sucking on Calvert's cock, keeping him stimulated, but not stimulated enough to cum. Finally Calvert's ass loosened and welcomed his finger in. Granger explored his cavern, looking for that spot, the one spot that would set Calvert free. He found it, and Calvert moaned almost too loudly and thrust back into his fingers, his ass open now, begging for more. Granger pushed another finger in, then another.

“Please George, please!” Calvert begged softly. Granger pulled his fingers out and grabbed Calvert's legs, pushing them back to expose his cute little hole. He slathered some lube on his dick then lined it up and pushed in. It was magical. In the past, when Granger had fucked a virgin, this was always the hardest part, and it took the longest, going slow to let the man's ass adjust to his penile invader. Not Calvert. Calvert wanted him so badly, was so ready, it was almost effortless.

Calvert tossed his head back and bit his knuckles to stifle his moans as Granger began to move in and out of him. Granger gave in to the feeling, surrendered himself to the sheer ecstasy of Calvert's ass, fucking him with a steady rhythm designed to make the joy last. It was as if the two of them had separated, and each was just enjoying the feelings of his own body. Then Calvert moved his head back up and locked his eyes on Granger, and then they connected; now they were together, making love to each other, and it was marvelous. Granger kept their eyes locked but for the occasional glance at Calvert's massive dick. He watched it flop around, slapping against Calvert's abdomen, and thought about how good it would feel when it was his turn to be fucked. Then, too late, Granger realized that he'd allowed himself to get overly stimulated, and he knew that in just a few seconds, he was going to cum. He was going to say something, to warn Calvert, but their eyes met, and he didn't need to say anything. Their minds locked, their eyes locked, and then their bodies locked. Granger felt his balls rising and then he was at the point of no return. He stifled his cry at the last minute as he began to blast his load into Calvert, deep into him, slamming his dick into him over and over again.

Granger felt Calvert's ass quiver, felt Calvert spasm, and looked down to see his huge cock start to explode; it's only stimulation being Granger's dick in Calvert's ass. Granger watched, amazed, as spurt after spurt flew from Calvert's dick and splattered across his chest and abdomen. He looked at Calvert's handsome face and smiled at his expression, the expression of someone who had totally surrendered to his body's desires, who was perhaps at his most vulnerable and most fulfilled, all at the same time. And then the ride was over, their balls empty and their hormones sated.

Granger grabbed a rag and gently wiped Calvert off. Calvert was still quivering and shaking, still affected by his massive orgasm, so Granger lay on his back and pulled Calvert to him, holding him tight and caressing him, waiting for the powerful force of Calvert's orgasm to subside. “God, that was amazing,” Calvert said.

“It was,” Granger said, and they lay there, with Granger gently stroking Calvert's back, relishing each other's company and the physical contact.

“I have the dog watch, so I better go,” Calvert said sadly.

“That ends about an hour before dawn, if I'm not mistaken,” Granger said with a grin.

“It does,” Calvert said with an arched eyebrow.

“Then you should stop back in when you're off watch.”

“Is that an order sir?” Calvert teased.

“It is, Lieutenant,” Granger said, grinning back. He watched sadly as Calvert stood up and got dressed. He was truly a magnificent male specimen. And then Calvert was gone, leaving Granger to his own thoughts.

And think he did. His first instinct was to feel guilty, for having betrayed Travers, but then he put that thought out of his mind. They understood each other, and there was no celibacy requirement in their relationship. Granger allowed his mind to open up to self-exploration, and only then did he understand the meaning of his guilt. Calvert wasn't like Arthur or Iggy, a friend that he fucked. He wasn't like Jeffers, who gave and got sexual release. No, the problem with Calvert was that Granger really liked him, and Granger realized that it was entirely probably that by the end of this voyage he'd be totally in love with Calvert. And that was why he felt guilty.

But should he? Travers was off in the Mediterranean, fucking Robey's brains out. Travers was probably experiencing the same thing he was. Why should he feel guilty? Why should he sit here and pine away for Travers, while Travers had his dick buried in Robey's ass? Maybe he was just over-thinking this. He knew that he would always love Travers, that Travers would always have a place in his heart. Their careers were destined to keep them apart for long periods of time. Maybe having a place in his heart was all he could offer Travers, and all he could expect in return. Granger ruminated about that, allowing his mind to travel down different paths, but in the end, he came to the same conclusion, and he decided to embrace this new relationship with Calvert. Carpe diem, as the Romans would say. Seize the day. He finally drifted off to sleep, lying on his stomach, subconsciously grinding his hips into his cot as he thought about Calvert.

April 18, 1794

A hand was moving down his back gently and lovingly, much too lovingly to be Winkler. Granger turned his head and saw Calvert there, sitting on his cot, stark naked and smiled up at him. “I told Winkler I'd wake you up,” Calvert said with a grin. His hand moved lower then, to Granger's ass. Granger spread his cheeks willingly, all but begging Calvert to fuck him. “We don't have much time.”

Granger handed him the lanolin. “Then get to it,” he said playfully. Calvert took the lanolin and began to lube Granger's ass, taking his time to make sure that Granger was ready for him. Clearly he'd done this before, but not enough to know that Granger was an expert at getting fucked and didn't need nearly as much foreplay, at least not when they were rushed. “Francis, I want you inside me, I want you inside me now,” Granger said urgently.

He felt the cot squeak and Calvert positioned himself over him, saw his left arm bulging as he supported his weight with it, the veins bulging out from his triceps, while he used his right hand to line his dick up with Granger's hole. Granger felt that massive dick probe him, and forced himself to relax, to welcome Calvert into him. Calvert pushed in slowly, so slowly it was almost maddening, and then he was in all the way. Granger felt Calvert's pubic hair brushing against his ass cheeks, felt Calvert's weight as he lay atop him. Then Calvert started to fuck him, slow and deliberate at first, with deep long strokes. God, he felt so good.

“Oh God, George, I've never felt anything like this. You are just amazing, you are perfect. Oh God!” Calvert cooed into his ear. “I love this; you make me feel so good. You like my big dick in your ass?”

“Yes. God, yes. I love it. I love it!” Granger whimpered back, thrusting himself back into Calvert's huge spear.

“Yeah, I can tell. You want me to really fuck you now? You ready for that?” Calvert's deep voice, so soft and husky, seemed to pour into his ear like liquid.

“Mm hm,” Granger said, all hope of coherent conversation lost, as he gave himself over to lust, to Calvert's ministrations. And boy could he minister. Calvert proved himself to be an expert lover, keeping up a pace that held them both at the edge of ecstasy, varying his strokes and angles, until they could stand no more, and then Calvert brought them both to another spectacular orgasm.

Afterward Calvert made to get up but Granger reached around and held his ass in place. “Stay in me for a second. I love the way you feel.” Calvert rewarded him with kisses on the back of his neck, by nuzzling his ear.

“More than anything that's ever happened to me,” Calvert said, “I'm so glad you kept me on board and sent Carmody off with the prize.” Granger squeezed his ass, forcing Calvert's dick out with a “plop” and making both of them giggle. He turned to face Calvert.

“Really?”

“Really,” Calvert said. “Didn't you notice that I really wasn't upset? Didn't you notice that I really didn't care? I wanted to be here, with you, just on the slim hope, the chance, that we'd be able to be together like this.”

Granger smiled, and pulled his head down until their lips met. “Well I'm glad I could make your wish come true. Mine certainly has. But now duty calls.”

Calvert got off of him, and put his own clothes on while Granger dressed. Granger emerged from his cabin with Calvert to find a grinning Winkler setting the table for breakfast. “Shall I set another place sir?” he said cheekily.

“Yes, thank you Winkler,” Granger said. He noticed that Calvert had stopped moving, was staring at Winkler horrified. Winkler scurried from the cabin.

“He knows about us,” Calvert said, almost in a panic.

“And he will tell no one. He knows me, knows that I enjoy other men, and I can trust him. So can you,” Granger said.

“Other men eh?” Calvert asked jealously.

Granger swallowed hard. “Yes.” Calvert looked at him. “You're not a virgin either.”

Calvert digested that, and relaxed. “Excellent point. I'm sorry. I guess I can't imagine sharing you right now, it's too new, too exciting.”

Granger smiled. A very honest response. “Well for right now, you won't have to.” They ate a quick breakfast, so fast there wasn't even time for small talk, and then headed up on deck.

Granger strolled onto the quarterdeck just as it started to get lighter. As usual, there were double lookouts, but as dawn broke, there was no real need for them. There wasn't a ship, or land in sight. The sea was calm with a light steady breeze, the promise of a beautiful day, which was just as well since they had a lot of work to do.

“Mr. Calvert,” Granger said to get his attention. “We'll get the studding sails on her. Mains and topsails.”

“Aye aye sir,” Calvert said with a smile. They would get to see what Intrepid did with all of her possible sails set.

While those sails were being set, Andrews appeared on deck, and they began the laborious task of swaying up cask after cask of salt pork or salt beef. It was a long arduous job, and a disgusting one at that. Granger formed a commission of himself, Calvert, Dr. Jackson, and Andrews to evaluate each of the casks and make note of the numbers on the bad casks for his reports. Some of the meat was so rotten it must have been in the cask since the last war. It was too disgusting even for Ranger. So Intrepid sailed on, making over ten knots in perfect weather, leaving a string of rotten pork and beef in her wake.

It was nightfall before they had resealed the casks and reorganized them below, just enough light for Granger to have himself rowed around the ship to readjust the trim. He met Andrews, Calvert, Carslake and Jackson in his cabin for dinner to discuss their new dilemma.

“We have food for two weeks, maybe three,” Andrews said, alarmed. “Sir, I must strongly recommend that we put into Gibraltar for stores.”

“With the winds blowin' the way they does this time of year, getting back out may not be easy,” Carslake said, echoing his own thoughts.

“What about Madeira?” Granger asked.

“Thank you sir, I've got plenty of wine,” Andrews said.

Granger laughed. “Not the wine Mr. Andrews, the island. It is directly in our path. We can reach it as easily as Gibraltar.”

“That's an excellent idea sir,” Calvert added supportively. Granger eyed them both strangely. They'd discussed this very possibility this very morning.

“What if the Portuguese won't sell us food sir?” Andrews asked.

“They will at least provide us with enough to survive long enough to get to Tenerife, maybe St. Helena,” Granger observed. He hoped that was right. “In any event, our need for speed and food are now one and the same.” He could tell that Andrews wasn't happy, but that was alright. He was just doing his job. After that, dinner degenerated into small talk until Calvert broke things up.

“I'm on watch in fifteen minutes, begging your pardon sir,” Calvert said. Everyone got up to leave. Granger escorted them out of his cabin and then shut the door, blocking Calvert's way.

“If you're on watch in 15 minutes, I have a good use for that time,” Granger said with a grin. He dragged a smiling Calvert into his cabin and dropped his breeches then pulled Calvert's down; they were both already hard. Granger grabbed the lanolin and rubbed it on Calvert's dick, put a blob on his own ass, and bent over, offering himself to Calvert.

Calvert seemed torn at first, clearly wanting to take more time with this, but then he got into the spirit and seemed to realize that a quick fuck was better than no fuck at all.

“Next time I want you to do me,” Calvert said as he buttoned up his trousers.

“It will be my pleasure,” Granger said. Calvert grinned and walked out of his cabin, leaving Granger to his thoughts. Granger lay on his cot, a huge smile on his face, totally enjoying this new man in his life. He thought about Calvert and missed him, then cursed himself for being an idiot. There was no reason he couldn't go on deck and enjoy his company. He was about to leave when there was a knock on his door.

“Enter!” Granger called.

The door opened slowly and Fitzwilliam peered in. Granger could tell by his eyes he was troubled. “Am I bothering you sir?” he asked.

“Not at all. Come on in Mr. Fitzwilliam. A glass?” Granger asked and poured him some wine, not waiting for a response.

“Thank you sir,” he said. Then he just sat there nervously. “I can't forget what he did to me.”

“Rape is a traumatic experience. That is why barbarians visit it upon the conquered,” Granger said sagely. “You must remember, you must keep in mind that it was not your fault.”

“It upsets me because I liked what he did, I liked the way it felt,” he said, a tear falling down his face. “I don't want to become a sodomite.”

Granger swallowed a gulp of wine. “There's a part of your body, in your ass, and when that's stimulated, it can feel very good. It doesn't mean you're a sodomite, it just means your body likes the way it feels. A woman could do the same thing with her fingers.”

“Only I don't want a woman to do it,” Fitzwilliam said.

“When you pleasure yourself, what do you visualize, men or women?” Granger asked.

“Mostly women sir. Always women until this happened. Now, though, all I think about is how good his fingers felt.”

Granger sighed. “I'm not sure what to tell you. You certainly could fulfill your desires with other men. You're young and handsome, the next best thing to a woman when at sea,” he joked. Fitzwilliam smiled at him. “But I think that in the long run, you'll find a woman and she'll make you happy. And maybe you'll love her enough to tell her what you like.”

“If I get caught, I could get thrown out of the service sir,” Fitzwilliam said.

“That is always a risk, and one you must keep in mind,” Granger said evenly. “My personal feelings are that what my officers do in their spare time is their own affair. That just means I don't persecute sodomites, not that I won't take action if it is forced upon me.”

Fitzwilliam studied him carefully. “I think I understand sir. Thank you for listening.”

Granger stood up and gave the boy a quasi-hug. “You are still a boy, and you have been forced to deal with something that would have laid a man low. I am here for you if you need me.”

“Thank you sir,” he said, and turned to leave Granger's cabin. Granger eyed his tight little butt, remembered the scene of him bent over the cannon, and of his pubic hair caked with his cum, and felt his dick rising. It would have been easy to fuck him, and Granger was pretty sure that's why Fitzwilliam came by his cabin, but he'd resisted. Somewhat proud of himself, Granger headed on deck.

Calvert was there, visible in the light by the binnacle. Granger had decided darkened decks were dangerous after Carmody's transgression, so now there was a light on the quarterdeck. “Good evening Mr. Calvert.”

“Good evening sir,” Calvert said.

“All is well?”

“It is indeed sir,” Calvert said. The two of them instinctively began pacing the deck, side by side, while the other members of the watch cleared away to the other side as was fit and proper.

It was a beautiful night, probably 60 degrees with a gentle wind, the sky clear, the stars and moon vivid. They were so bright they seemed close enough to touch. There was nothing quite like the sky at night at sea, when there were no clouds. “A beautiful night,” Granger said.

“It is,” Calvert said noncommittally.

“So where are you from? Tell me about your family,” Granger said.

“I'm from Norfolk sir. Men in my family have served in the army or navy for generations, but my father opted to farm instead. He's got a modest estate, about 250 acres.” Nelson was from Norfolk, so that might explain that connection.

“But you're not a farmer?” Granger teased.

“No sir. Not even close. I’ve known I wanted to go to sea since I was a boy,” Calvert said. “I just knew it was my destiny.”

“You would have liked the Agamemnon,” Granger said. “Captain Nelson is a most impressive man.”

“I'm happy here sir. I like this just fine,” Calvert said.

“Well I hope to make it up to you, not giving you that brig. If we have another chance like that again, I'll make sure it's yours,” Granger said. This capable man deserved to move up.

“Begging your pardon sir, but I'd rather stay right here.” He dropped his voice a bit. “With you.”

“You have no ambition?” Granger asked, shocked. This was a foreign concept to him.

“I'm not saying I don't want my own ship someday, but it seems that when one is happy, like I am right now, why try to change things? I've seen too many ambitious people drive themselves into unhappiness.” His response was so strange to Granger, yet at the same time it was entirely logical.

“I'm just not used to officers who live for the moment. Most, including myself, always have their eye on the next rung of the ladder,” Granger said.

“Yes sir. But if you're always looking up, you're not looking around. It may just be that this is the best time of my life, so I'd better enjoy it,” Calvert observed.

“You know Mr. Calvert; I think that's excellent advice. And I think I'll work on that as soon as you are off watch,” Granger said quietly.

“Aye aye sir,” Calvert chirped as Granger headed below to think about this lack of ambition, and to try and decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing.