The joke helped ease the sudden tension, but her mind was still reeling with the dangerous revelations. Sex wax one of — if not her favorite — things to do. To never experience that again outside of marriage was an insane concept, one she would likely grapple with for months to come.

Rather than continue on trying to explain her racing thoughts to him, Jo laughed and turned her cool blue eyes back to him. "Considering you're the first person — man or woman — to see me undressed and didn't follow it up with some move for more, yes Alfred. I'd say you're special." The attraction she felt towards him still lingered beneath the surface, but it wasn't what she wanted from him. Maybe it was that first afternoon as he showed her his tattoos, but not anymore. He was special, a dear friend she could exist as herself with.

"I'm glad you didn't die." She added quietly, unsure if he would ever be ready to share what happened with her.

  

Alfred offered her a small but genuine smile in response. He'd taken in the general feeling of what she was saying first, and reacted to that, and it wasn't until a beat later that it struck him how odd it was that she'd phrased it that way. Man or woman — what exactly did that mean? He obviously knew what more referred to when they were talking about what men would want after seeing her unclothed, but more could not, in any version of reality he had ever considered, refer to the same sort of thing when one was talking about two women. Two men, sometimes — in certain circumstances — but not two women. That wasn't something women did.

So she was talking about something else, then, and he wasn't sure what. At the moment, though, he didn't suppose it mattered, and he didn't want to derail what was looking to be quite a sincere moment by pestering her for her rationale behind a very slight phrasing issue.

"I'm glad I didn't die, too," he said instead, his smile widening slightly. "But I'll be quite relieved to put this whole thing behind me. Hopefully soon," he continued. After a beat, he added, "It looks like I can't... the curse doesn't react well with the one on the Voyager. So until she's cleared, I've got to stay off the ship. Which makes me feel pretty useless," he admitted.

  

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

Jo's understanding of cursebreaking was woefully inadequate for her to be of any use to Alfred and his ship. She knew enough to manage against the typical curse thrown on a grave, but her awareness generally stopped there. Most of the excavations she worked on had a cursebreaker in attendance at all times, and those that didn't were generally only because they didn't expect to run into any curses. Not to mention after Zelda's adamant refusal to accept the help she obviously needed Jo was uneasy about offering any other recommendations.

"At least they haven't destroyed her yet." Jo said instead of pressing for further details on what he meant by curse interactions. Something bad had obviously happened, but Jo wouldn't be of any help solving that case. "You're welcome to come keep me company in the shop when I have to work if you're that bored. There's not much to do there." Except dust. So much bloody dusting.

  

"They're not going to destroy her," Alfred responded immediately. He didn't know that, of course. No one had made any promises to the contrary, in an official capacity or otherwise. From the Ministry perspective, it probably seemed like the most logical thing to do — simply get rid of anything that had been contaminated by the difficult-to-address curse and make sure it didn't spread to anything else — but if that ever became their policy, what did that mean for him? He was contaminated, now, too, and the last letter he'd gotten from Zelda had made him wonder whether he had much to be optimistic about on that front. He could not entertain the idea that anyone was thinking of destroying the Voyager, not when his own fate was, from all appearances, tied to hers. It was one thing to sit around making vaguely lewd jokes in his parlor to keep his spirits up, but that existential dread, the possibility that he was living his last days, was still lurking within him. Now that he'd come close to death and out the other side of it, the dread had a form and shape instead of just a cloud on the horizon — and whether that made it better or worse, he didn't know.

"They're working on it," he continued, vague by necessity since he didn't know what Zelda was actually doing or how much progress she had made. "And I'll just have to wait it out. Maybe in your shop," he added lightly. "So we can both be bored together. Just somewhere other than my flat," he joked.

  

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

"Mars' shop." Jo corrected automatically. Despite how much time she spent alongside the antiques Jo still felt little passion for them. They were relics from eras she had no interest in, or were so obviously a fake that it took all her restraint not to point them out to Mars. It wasn't her business what was sold, only that things were sold and Mars wasn't homeless. Outside of that, Jo hated the dimly lit shop.

"I quite like your flat, though." The few decorations it boasted were interesting to study and there were no expectations there. Just an easy sort of relaxation. "I'd happily be bored here with you to keep me company."

  

"Yeah, the company's not half bad," he agreed with a grin. The comment could have been taken to mean either his company or hers — in the first sense it was clearly intended as a joke, in spirit with much of their earlier conversation; in the second sense it was quite a genuine sentiment. He still hadn't figured out what it was about Jo Smith that made her so easy to talk to, but there was certainly something. He hadn't walked anyone in England through his tattoos; Pablo knew their significance, but that was different, since he'd been there when Alfred had earned each of them. He also didn't tend to end up alone, flirting and exchanging dirty jokes, with women — particularly not women he'd just met, which was still the case for her even if it felt as though they'd known each other much longer.

Alfred was walking through some of their earlier conversation in his mind, as if that would reveal the answer, and a thought occurred to him. "Hey, a minute ago, you said 'men and women.' When you said I was different. What did you mean by that?" he asked, without even the slightest supposition in mind about how she might answer.

  

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

"Oh." Jo replied, somewhat startled by the question. Alfred was a sailor...how did he not know the answer to his question? Even if he hadn't encountered it himself, his compatriots had to have discussed it, no? Attraction to both men and women was just a fact of her life. It hadn't ever occurred to her that people — Alfred in particular — might not know.

She shifted in her seat, curling her feet tighter beneath her. "Erm. Generally, ... erm...generally if either a man or a woman had their hands on me like we did things progress differently, is all." Jo explained. She wasn't ashamed of her sexuality or unafraid to talk about it. She just hadn't ever had to. "Sex. Things generally progress into sex." Jo continued abruptly.

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   J. Alfred Darrow

Alfred had been following right up until the last sentence, when he realized he only thought that he'd been following, if this was where she'd been leading him. He blinked, trying to process this entirely new bit of information.

Alfred had a much more lenient view of this sort of thing than most did, he thought. He had known several sailors who had turned out to be in those sorts of relationships, so he thought it was the sort of thing that could happen to good, honest people. He was slightly less charitable towards those who engaged in that sort of behavior on land, when there were plenty of women around, because he didn't know why anyone would choose to do that if there were alternatives — but it wasn't as though Jo necessarily fell into that category. She'd traveled, and been in remote corners of the world. The scenarios she was referring to could just as easily have happened there, where they were to a large extent excusable. If she were a man, that would have been the end of his thoughts on the matter — he could brush it off without much further comment — but she wasn't a man, and that part made no sense.

On one hand, Alfred had been raised with the assumption that women didn't want those things with the same sort of insistence that men did. He was willing to allow, however, that he might be mistaken on that front. He'd seen plenty of evidence to the contrary, in his own experiences and in his observations while abroad, but he'd never had cause to directly question the assumption. Maybe it was still true in certain cases, even — proper English ladies didn't crave that sort of thing, and Jo wasn't a proper English lady — no surprise there. But even putting that aside, there was another mental hurdle he simply couldn't overleap.

"But that's not... that's not sex," he replied, laughing a bit at the absurdity of this conversation. In his mind he played through all of the activities he associated with the act, and there were several that he supposed were just as possible when both parties were lacking a certain part of anatomy, but what Alfred thought of as actual sex was not in that category. "I mean, that's just... what do you do?"

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   Jupiter Smith

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

Jo had to sharply remind herself that while Alfred was well traveled and experienced, he was still a traditional, English man at heart. Even so, his laughter and comment stung. The women she'd been had given her beautiful, memorable experiences — moreso than most of the men she'd been intimate with. To demean all those with 'that's not sex' was morally wrong.

"It's not sex in the traditional sense, no." She agreed, because there was no denying that. Penetration was required for the exact definition, of course. "You can still do plenty with your hands and mouth, though. There are even things you can do with an apparatus that are more similar to traditional sex..." she tried to keep her tone light and open, but failed at that at a few points. Alfred had laughed. Jo wasn't prepared for his ridicule.

"Have you never used your hands or mouth?" She questioned, determined to make light of this situation to avoid any further negative connotations. It occurred to her only seconds after voicing her question that if he was a traditional Englishman, then he certainly hadn't been instructed on how to properly pleasure a woman. And that, while not totally out of the realm of possibility, was truly unfortunate for any of his lovers.

  

An apparatus. Alfred had to bite his tongue to stop from laughing again when she got to that bit, and only managed to do so because he thought he gathered that she was a little annoyed by his response. That term, however, was probably the least arousing thing he'd ever heard, and only cemented his foregone conclusion that what she was describing could only really be a viable option when there were no suitable alternatives around. Why get a thing involved if you had a real, living thing available for the purpose?

Her question caught him off guard, and his response was light but rather defensive. "Sure I have," he said, which was only sort of a lie. He'd used his hands before, and he knew how the rest of it worked. The truth was, though, that he wasn't nearly as experienced as she probably assumed he was. The last time he'd slept with anyone had been Zelda, nearly two years ago, and it had only happened once, which... didn't leave a lot of time for exploration, or anything. The way she'd asked the question made it seem like both of those were activities he should have experience with, though, and he didn't want to let on that he wasn't as, er, prolific as she might have been.

"I just think — if you think it's all the same, maybe you just..." he hesitated, not wanting to offend her and feeling that he might have been on the verge of it. "... haven't had particularly enjoyable sex," he suggested, making the phrase at least half a question through his tone. "Maybe you've had the wrong partners."

  

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

His disbelief in the various types of sex was equally met by her conclusion that he was lying. No one who knew how to draw pleasure from someone using only their tongue would deny it as sex. It was more surprising to her that he wasn't comfortable enough to be honest (just like Holsten, she realized suddenly) than his lack of experience was. After all, Alfred evidently wsd more similar to her respectful family members than herself.

Jo was about to address his lie when he continued on with the most ludicrous statement she'd ever heard. For a minute, sll she could do was stare confusedly at him. Alfred, the man with seemingly little bedroom imagination, was questioning her partners. A laugh escaped her then. "I think it's you who hasn't." She said once her laughter subsided enough to speak.

  

What was that supposed to mean? Alfred felt defensive for the second time in as many minutes, which was stupid — why was he defending himself when, of the two of them, he was the one who was normal? Regardless, he had no intention of recounting his whole sexual history so that she could critique the list of women he'd slept with. Honestly, this entire conversation was a bit much. He realized that he'd been the one to bring it up, but he certainly wouldn't have done so if he'd known exactly what he was asking. He wanted to go back to just joking around — actually joking around, not what they were doing now, which sounded like joking but was really a thin cover over an incredibly awkward and maybe slightly passive aggressive conversation. To that end, he said the most ridiculous thing he could think of in response, which was, "Oh, were you offering to fix that for me?"

As if there was anything to fix. It stood to reason, at least from his perspective, that if she'd only ever had bad sex she might think doing some sensual things with other women was an equivalent experience and she wasn't missing out on anything. He hadn't meant his comment as an insult; that was just the only thing that seemed logical to him. On the other hand, her counter — that there might be someone out there who was... so good at sex they made him want to stop having it? made absolutely no sense at all.

  

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

Jo never really knew what to expect when it came to Alfred. Their conversations had a habit of covering subjects she hadn't knowingly given free thought to in some time. Even when they weren't conversing about their life philosophies they were still sharing intimate details of their lives, they were explaining the stories inked into their skin. As attracted as she was to Alfred, Jo wasn't sure she wanted to ruin what they had with (what she thought would be) mediocre sex. Especially not after their conversation about syphilis only minutes ago.

Besides, he wasn't even attracted to her so who was to say whether or not he'd even be able to perform.

Jo quirked a brow and rolled her eyes at him. "Are you even interested in me?" She asked instead of directly answering his question. "I mean....you had your hands on my chest and gave no indication..." Alfred had been wrapped around her as she explained what she knew of the vines. If there'd been some reaction she would've known.

  

If he'd been trying to get the conversation back to something light-hearted and superficial, it seemed this hadn't been the best avenue to do it. Alfred raised one hand and awkwardly tugged on a curl of hair behind his ear. "It was a joke," he said flatly, because at this point he didn't think he could leave it unsaid and hope to get the air between them clear again. It wasn't the sort of thing he'd wanted to announce, though. Aside from further derailing the mood he'd been trying to restore, there was also a chance (based on the questions she'd asked in response, anyway) that stating it so plainly might be a blow to her self-esteem, which certainly wasn't what he had been intending.

"It's nothing to do with you," he assured her. "If circumstances were different, maybe — I mean, you're certainly attractive," he continued, slightly flustered now. If he hadn't met Zelda, maybe, or if he'd met Jo earlier. Maybe even if he'd met her six months later, or next year — if he'd gone to India as intended, and instead of getting further entangled in this doomed relationship he'd been moving on, and so had she — maybe there would be a point in time when Alfred could get invested in casual sex with attractive young women who demonstrated a willingness to show up at and undress in his flat. That just wasn't where he was, though, emotionally — and even if it wouldn't mean anything to either of them, and even if Zelda would never know, and even if there was no reason, on paper, that he shouldn't — it was never going to happen.

"There's just..." he started, unsure how best to explain this to Jo without going into detail that he didn't want to bring up and she likely didn't want to hear. Wistfully, he leaned his head on his hand and glanced in the direction of the fireplace. "Somebody."

  

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

"Zelda." She confirmed with a slight shrug. While Jo still didn't know the truth of what happened between them, his admission was all the truth she needed. "We were school friends, met up for drinks a few weeks ago and I guessed there was something more to her ... frustration than just a cursed ship." Jo explained before he could ask questions. It wasn't duplicitous that she never told him of it, as the topic of Zelda hadn't ever come up before this. Or, at least that was what she told herself.

"I'm not offended that you're uninterested, by the way. Like I said, you're different. I'm happy to just sit here with you."

  

Alfred tensed when she said the name, because he knew he'd never said anything about Zelda to her, which begged the question: how did she know? She might have read the letter that he'd left in her care, and then sealed it again before she returned it to him. Such things were easily accomplished, with the help of magic. Even then, though, he didn't think she would have drawn that conclusion — he'd written it still thinking that Zelda wanted to move on, and so nothing had been particularly explicit.

She explained before he could ask the question, but her explanation just left him with more questions. Frustrated how, exactly? What had they been talking about, and what had Zelda said? When had this conversation happened and how much had she pieced together from it? It didn't make sense to think that she knew everything. Would she have more or less offered to sleep with him if she knew how enamored he was with Zelda, or gotten undressed to show off her tattoos the last time she'd visited? Particularly if the two of them were, as she said, old school friends?

"A cursed ship is plenty to be frustrated about," he pointed out mildly.

  

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