Alfred had still been looking at her this whole time, but he hadn't really been seeing her; his eyes had unfocused as he'd taken in the news. Her hey brought him back, and he noticed the look on her face and the clouds in her eyes as she pressed her fingertips up against his palms. He wasn't sure if her words brought him any real comfort, to be honest. It was all well and good to say you weren't giving up, but that didn't mean things got any easier, or even that you were guaranteed success in the end. There were plenty of people on the Sycorax who hadn't given up, but they ended up just as dead as the ones who had lost hope. And this curse was... they'd been working on the Voyager for a month, and they hadn't managed to rid her of the curse yet. This curse was old, and challenging, and no one knew how to handle it — and you could fit a lot of fifteen-minute blocks into a month. Plenty of chances for him to die and spare them the trouble of trying to extricate the curse from him.

Whatever her efforts, he was most likely going to die. He was going to die, and for all he knew this could be the last time he saw Zelda face to face, or the last time he saw her alone — and he couldn't even say anything that was on his mind. He didn't have the words, and even if he did, this wasn't the time or place. They were meeting in a Ministry conference room, after all, because there was no way she would have wanted to see him elsewhere, and this was just a professional meeting. She was here in her capacity as a Ministry worker, and he as the captain of a cursed ship, not as Zelda and Alfred.

But there was at least a hint of that left, because she'd left her hands on top of his. Alfred wanted to say something, and started to try, but his throat swelled and he couldn't manage anything at all. Instead, he closed his hands around hers and held them tightly, as though he could communicate everything he couldn't say if he just held her hands tight enough.

  

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MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

She just wanted to say something that could make it better, but she knew that wasn't possible. It was hard for her to stay quiet as Alfred held her hands; to hold off from saying unhelpful. She just wanted to do something and she knew that she couldn't; there was nothing she could say that would change anything. Only the work would change anything - this was why she was practically killing herself trying to do something, and it wasn't working.

She could have held his hands forever. She only moved because she felt something damp on her face; a tear had escaped from her left eye. Zelda pulled one hand out of his, but left the other gripping it tightly. She wiped the tear away even as another crept down from the same eye.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

---

  

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AMAZING set by MJ

Alfred would have been quite content (well, content being the exact opposite of the right word, but that was how the saying went) to sit there and hold her hands for another twenty minutes, at least. This was significantly more real than anything that had happened in their conversation so far, and it was the first time he'd felt connected to her in months — and it might be the last time, ever, so he was in no rush to bring the moment to a close. He was surprised when she pulled one of her hands away, but when he looked up he noticed the tear as she wiped it away.

Heaven help him, he'd made her cry. Alfred felt his stomach sink and he pulled his remaining hand away from hers hastily. "I'm sorry," he said, pushing his chair back from the table slightly. He didn't know what he was apologizing for, exactly. Everything, he supposed. He should not be here. He wanted someone to tell him things were going to be okay, which she couldn't do. Failing that, he wanted comfort, and it wasn't fair to ask that of her, considering everything that had happened recently. The crying was proof enough of that. "I should go."

  

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MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

This wouldn't be happening if she had been getting more sleep - or, it wouldn't be happening if she had prepped more for this meeting - or, it wouldn't be happening if she had just transferred the case as she should have in the first place. She didn't want him to leave. She tapped the fingers of the hand he had pulled away from against the table.

"Wait," Zelda said, wishing that she could pretend like nothing was happening to her emotions or to her face at all. "The boat."

Because - well, if he was still willing, she could use his help. And because despite everything, she wanted to spend more time with him. God help her. She had really mostly thought that everything was over, and then Alfred had waltzed back into her life with a curse, and now she had to save him. Never mind if she drained herself empty in the process.

---

  

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AMAZING set by MJ

The Voyager. Right. It would have been better if she just hadn't told him about his own curse, he thought, because then he could have gone about his life as though nothing was different. He would have had something to occupy his time, working on de-cursing his ship, and he wouldn't have had this on his mind. But she would have, he realized, and so he supposed keeping it from him couldn't really have been feasible. Particularly if they were both working on the Voyager — he would have noticed she was hiding something. Her face would have told him.

"Right. I'll still help," he decided, because what else was he going to do? If there was any chance that they could get him de-cursed, it would probably come after they'd found a way to get the ship de-cursed. If the alternative was just sitting at home in his flat, doing nothing and waiting for the curse to find him... he shuddered to think.

"When do we start?" he asked, looking at the corner of the table instead of her.

  

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MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

She had hoped he would still help, but of course he would still help, and for some reason that made her feel worse. She was going to have to cry in a bathroom after this.

"I need -" Zelda started. She needed to sleep. But she couldn't tell him that, and couldn't use it as an excuse, because he might very damn well be dying. She would not be at her best, but she needed to be there, didn't she?

Zelda shook her head, as if to jostle the idea of 'rest' out of her brain entirely. "It doesn't matter. When works for you?"

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AMAZING set by MJ

Alfred shrugged as if to say it did not much matter. "Anytime," he answered, but a sudden thought made him reconsider. He had a niece, as he'd recently learned, and he'd been meaning to visit her and get to know her, and he hadn't managed to make it happen yet. The weekend would be no good for that sort of thing, because he'd have to either invite Evander along or else convince him to stay home, both of which seemed like daunting tasks which, in his current state of dread, he did not have the emotional energy for.

"Tuesday," he amended. That would give him the weekend to get his things in order (both literally and metaphorically, since his head was a mess at the moment) and Monday to spend with Charity before he turned his attention back to this bloody curse. "I've got... things to take care of in the meantime. Just in case."

  

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MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Tuesday. Tuesday meant that she could sleep, which was a relief, and she could spend Monday doing some research. This gave her a chance to get her feet underneath her again, and that was a relief - if he had said 'tomorrow' or 'why not Saturday?' she would have shown, but she was not sure how she would have handled it. She was still not sure how she was going to handle it.

"Tuesday," she said, "I'll see you on the dock at 10?"

They could do this. Or, they could try. She was going to try.

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AMAZING set by MJ

Tuesday at ten am seemed like a lifetime away — at least when you thought about it in fifteen minute increments. But he needed to take some time to get out of his head, he knew, or else he wouldn't be any good at all to Zelda or the Voyager or anyone. He needed to write to the crew and have them all come in to the Ministry to get screened. He probably should tell them all to look for work elsewhere, too, and tell the ships he'd been planning to escort to India to find another accompaniment — get things wrapped up, just in case. He could handle all of that by letter today, and then he could take the weekend for himself, and Monday for Charity, and whatever time he had left for the Voyager and her curse.

"Tuesday at ten," he repeated, heading for the door.

Assuming, of course, that he made it to Tuesday at ten.

  

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MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER