March 9th, late night — Alfred's Flat, London

Alfred still wasn’t entirely sure whether they’d managed to get through the evening without significant incident on the strength of Miss Urquart’s discomfort with the situation (she was radiating it), through the sheer force of Zelda’s will (she had obviously not been expecting to walk in to this), through luck, or some combination of the above. Eventually, though, they’d all gone to sleep — or, perhaps more accurately, they’d all agreed to pretend they were going to sleep so that they wouldn’t be forced to make superficial conversation any more. Alfred had offered Zelda his own bed, of course, because he wouldn’t have dreamed of letting her sleep anywhere else, but had clarified primarily for Miss Urquart’s sake that he would remain on the floor in the parlor. Miss Urquart herself was on the sofa in the same room, since Bilton’s door was locked and Alfred didn’t think the situation was quite dire enough to justify breaking in to his roommate’s room, especially when he didn’t really know what the state of things might be inside. Miss Urquart might not have even felt comfortable sleeping in a bed typically occupied by a man she’d never met, anyway, so the sofa would have to do.

Of course, he couldn’t sleep. He’d spent a while watching the snow continue to fall outside the window, until he’d heard Miss Urquart’s breath slow either in sleep or in some approximation of it. Then he’d risen, padded down the hallway as quietly as he could, and cracked open the door to his room.

“Hey,” he said as he slipped inside, because of course she wasn’t sleeping, either.

@"Zelda Fisk" Cassius Lestrange

  

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

Zelda couldn’t sleep, because of course she couldn’t sleep. Today had been weird and frustrating and exhausting and she was in a strange bed, even if Alfred’s sheets smelled like him. She still had not entirely unknotted the mess in her chest, and she was lying on her side in Alfred's bed in the chemise she wore under her Ministry robes, facing the wall and the window.

Her Ministry badge rested on the windowsill, and really Zelda was waiting for it to glow green to signify that the floo was up and that they ought to report back to the Ministry. If she wasn’t going to sleep she ought to at least be useful, and she wasn’t going to sleep.

It didn’t light up, because of course things couldn’t be that easy, and Zelda was watching the snow instead now. It didn’t help that she wasn’t used to sleeping by herself - she’d shared a room with Xena her whole life, and without the sound of another person breathing, Alfred’s room was a little frighteningly silent. This was another thing she'd have to get used to once Xena was married - an empty room.

She rolled over to her other side to face the door as she heard the faint creak, and blinked up at Alfred. “Hi,” Zelda said. She bit her lip at him - there was a conversation that they ought to be having, but she didn’t even know where to start, or what she wanted to say.

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AMAZING set by MJ

It was hard to read her expression in the moonlight, even though with all the snow outside the window more of it was reflecting into his room than on a typical night. He shifted his weight and put his hands in the back pockets of his trousers, unsure what to do next. He wanted to apologize for some unspecified offense, but was worried that if he offered an apology without specifics it might seem incriminating — like an admission that there was something he needed to apologize for. Which there probably was, but… things were complicated, and he couldn’t just admit to things haphazardly because then he was going to get himself into even more trouble than he had been at the moment when she and Miss Urquart had showed up in his flat, with the flecks of snow on her hair.

“Can I come sit with you?” he asked softly.

  

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

Zelda sat up in his bed; not enough to be accused of having good posture, but if he was going to come and sit then she wasn't going to stay lying down.

“Yeah,” she said, because even if she could not untangle her feelings about - any of this, Jo or the evening or Delight meeting him like this, or the weird half-packed state of the sitting room, which she had not asked about - she could not imagine telling Alfred that he wasn’t allowed to sit with her. Especially in his own bed.

“I didn’t think we’d be here this long,” Zelda said. Whether this was a way of apologizing for showing up at all or just noise she wasn’t sure.

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AMAZING set by MJ

Alfred moved to the bed and sat down at about the space that her shoulders had just occupied, before she’d sat up. He waited a second, unsure if she was going to move to either accommodate him or avoid him (both would have been understandable, after everything that had happened). When she didn’t immediately move, he reached out and put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him, so that she could lean up against his lap and his chest.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” he admitted with a wry half-smile. Partly it was that he always liked having her around, any time he could. Partly it was a sentiment that he would much rather have her here and safe than out there in the storm. Partly, he supposed, it was also a nod towards the tension that still lingered between them from the evening. He didn’t especially want to talk about Jo, or anything, but if they were going to he’d much rather talk to her, even in whispers and with her friend in the next room, then try and explain it all through a letter — or, heaven help him, over dinner at Roslyn’s next week.

  

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

Trepidation aside, Zelda leaned against Alfred, settling into it with a little pleased exhale despite herself. Even when she was mad at him - and she was not, actually, sure that she was mad at him, although she felt like maybe she should be - she felt better when Alfred was holding her, steady and supported and safe.

There was a lump in her throat, and she didn’t know when it had gotten there. Maybe it had been there all evening, ever since she'd tried her stunner; or maybe just since she’d been in his bedroom, thinking about how there was no way she would fall asleep.

“It felt like we were intruding on something,” she said, “When we got here.”

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   J. Alfred Darrow

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AMAZING set by MJ

Alfred let out a long breath and tried to think of how to answer that. He was worried if he said no it would just seem like he was lying, and if he tried to clarify too much it might seem like he was being evasive. It wasn’t as though their arrival had interrupted anything, though, not really. Just the same fight Jo and he had been having since Thursday, flaring up for a moment again. If Zelda and Miss Urquart hadn’t shown up, they probably would have exchanged another few rounds of heated words and then some vague, lackluster apologies and then they would have settled in to eat dinner in tense silence. Maybe Jo would have made some attempt to leave again and Alfred would have talked her down from it — but Zelda and Miss Urquart’s arrival had certainly changed that dynamic considerably.

He was still vaguely worried about Jo, even though he'd been trying to put it out of mind and certainly trying not to let Zelda catch him staring out the window every once in a while watching the snow fall. If she would have just come inside, he could have explained — but then, she probably would have left anyway, if he had. And probably she was fine. She was an adult; she could look after herself. Even in a blizzard. And anyway — it wasn't up to him to worry about her, anymore.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I know it probably sounded like that.”

  

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

Zelda exhaled. There was something about his answer that was annoying, although she couldn’t fully put her finger on it - and she was sick of being annoyed with him, because things were complicated enough even when she wasn’t. She was sick of spending so much time thinking about Jo’s feelings, too, especially since from all indications Jo didn't seem to care about hers.

And then there was the whole thing which had been - maybe illegal, when she actually thought about it, but she could not do so for longer than a few moments without feeling that same unraveled desperation she’d felt in the hallway. Her spell missed, and now Jo was outside somewhere, and - maybe she was fine, hopefully she was fine, but Zelda still didn't understand why the other woman had chosen to come here in a blizzard at all.

“You said it was over,” Zelda said, “I never asked you to choose.”

It had very much been on purpose, too, her not asking; she knew that platonic friendships across sexes were possible, she’d had them in school, and just because every time she saw them both it felt like Jo and Alfred were speaking a language she didn’t understand - well. That hadn’t been enough to ask. But Alfred said it was over.

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   J. Alfred Darrow

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AMAZING set by MJ

“I know,” Alfred reassured her, hugging her a little closer to him. “I know you didn’t.”

Which was part of the reason it had taken him so long to come to that conclusion, probably. He knew that Zelda hadn’t asked him to choose, and wouldn’t ask him to choose, and he had thought naively that her thoughts on the matter were the only thing he needed to keep going just as he always had before. He’d neglected to consider how his own feelings might affect everything, or how Jo’s might. He had just assumed the two of them were constants, impervious to change and unlikely to ever slip up. If the past week had taught him anything, it was not to take either for granted any more.

“I didn’t know she was going to be here,” he admitted. “She was here when I got back from the Voyager today, and then the floo went offline.”

  

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

Zelda felt another impotent flash of irritation, and glanced out the window at the snow that was falling outside. She’d known that Jo could just show up, of course, and that was at least part of the problem.

She leaned back against Alfred’s chest, just a little heavier, hoping that the added pressure would ground her. She swallowed around the lump in her throat again. Zelda was starting to think that she understood what she wanted to say to him, but she was not sure that she wanted - or that she could handle - an answer. So she asked something else: “It seemed as if she didn’t know things were over.”

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AMAZING set by MJ

Alfred’s cheeks flushed, and he hoped that between the dim lighting and the angle she was at compared to him perhaps Zelda wouldn’t notice. Should he have done something differently, between Thursday and today? He’d thought that he’d made the right choice in deciding not to write to Jo, because if he wrote it would just open up the door for another heated conversation, but maybe it would have been better if he’d found some way to tell her, before she was standing in his flat and they were both feeling miserable about it, that it didn’t even matter that she was leaving anymore.

The trouble was, he didn’t think he was capable of writing a goodbye to her that really felt as final as it should. Not yet, anyway. When he’d been writing drafts of letters on Friday that he hadn’t ever sent, he’d started a handful to Jo, but they had all the wrong themes: I miss you. I’m sorry. I wish…

“Jo’s been pretty focused on her own things, lately,” he said evasively. It wasn’t untrue, but it also didn’t come right out and say what he was thinking. He’d just expected her to know, because they were always in sync about anything that was important, and he hadn’t wanted to force himself to say or do something painful if she already knew. He hadn’t been prepared for her to ask him what happened on Thursday, when she’d done that earlier. He hadn’t been prepared for her to have to ask.

  

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

Alfred seemed uncomfortable, which - fine. They could both feel a little uncomfortable about this, because certainly they had made Delight uncomfortable all day, and certainly when she inevitably talked about this with Delight later Zelda would feel nearly as bad as she did in this moment. On top of everything else, Zelda couldn’t understand why Jo couldn’t just pretend everything was fine and normal earlier - maybe then everything would actually be fine, and she wouldn't be out in the snow and Zelda wouldn't have tried to stun her.

Zelda sighed. She squirmed a little in his arms, not to disconnect herself from him, but so she could readjust her hands and start picking at the skin around her thumbnail.

“Are you -” she paused, sighed again, didn’t want to ask this, finally said “I know, I know you didn’t do anything, but - it feels like you’re both off in your own little world when you’re together. And - Jo doesn’t like me, or respect me, and I don’t understand any of it."

They had been friends, for a long time. They were friends in school and then they finished school and then they got drinks when Jo was around, but things had been awkward ever since the introduction of Alfred into their friendship, even before today, even before Thursday. And Zelda didn't know why, unless it was -

- and she didn't want to ask, because he hadn't done anything with Jo, but she had to know.

And - are you in love with her?”

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   J. Alfred Darrow

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AMAZING set by MJ

Alfred hadn’t been expecting this question, but it made sense. Especially when she laid it out like that, because it wasn’t as though he could argue with any of it. In their own little world was actually a pretty fair descriptor of the way he felt when he was with Jo, and how quickly and inexplicably they’d bonded when they met. He didn’t find people that he felt understood him very often; Jo was a rare breed, and it just seemed like when he was with her the two of them could go anywhere, or do anything. And as much as he wished he could have argued with her second sentence, Zelda was right. Jo didn’t like her, despite the fact that they’d apparently been friends first; she couldn’t seem to get through a handful of letters with Zelda without one or both of them devolving into petty chaos. It wasn’t something he would have expected of either of them, in any other circumstance, so there was something there that he couldn’t ignore or deny. And the scene on the stairs from earlier… was also hard to ignore, to say the least.

He frowned at the wall on the other side of the room. He had a fleeting moment of irritation at Jo being so obtuse about everything, earlier, because if Zelda could follow the breadcrumbs to this question than Jo really had no excuse for having to come right out and ask what had happened on Thursday.

“I’m in love with you,” he responded in a weary tone, and though it was true he was also aware that it was not exactly an answer to the question that she had asked, and he didn’t really expect Zelda to take it as one.

He sighed, and looked from the hair on the top of Zelda’s head to the corner of the ceiling. “I don’t know,” he admitted, after a moment. He could feel her stiffen against him when he said this and regretted it almost immediately, but he couldn’t take it back now. He’d just have to explain it, and hope maybe she would understand.

“I never wanted us to be anything other than friends,” he clarified quickly. “I never thought we would. It wasn’t like… It never even crossed my mind,” he said, shaking his head. Even when she was naked in his flat, the thought hadn’t occurred to him in anything other than an abstract way — but reminding Zelda of that particular instance at the moment was probably not going to help his case, he thought.

“But then on Thursday she — well she’s leaving, she’s got this — thing and she can’t be in England anymore, so she came to say she was leaving and — and maybe she wanted me to go with her,” he admitted, cheeks flushing. “And it was just this… this fleeting thing, and it only happened once, but when I felt like she was going to disappear forever and I’d never see her again I had this thought, like — like if it would make her stay…”

He didn’t finish his sentence; he didn’t really think he was capable of finishing it. After a moment, he shifted in the bed so that he was angled more towards Zelda and pulled her closer despite how stiff she’d gotten, despite knowing that she probably wanted nothing less than to be held in that moment — he wanted to hold her, desperately needed to hold her. “And it scared me,” he admitted, embracing her so tightly it might have been described as clinging to her. “Because I’d never realized how… how easy it would be to lose you.”

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   Zelda Darrow

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

There was a hitch in her chest and her muscles had stiffened halfway through - of course they had, because she had not actually expected Alfred to not know whether or not he was in love with someone else - but she let him talk, half because she could not even begin to know what she wanted to say to him, and half because she was hoping something he said would remove some of the impact of it.

The lump in her throat was back and it was larger and she was sure, actually, that she was going to start crying sooner or later - she hated to cry in front of people but today had been exhausting even before this and - he didn’t know. He couldn’t say either way. Jo’s disdain for her was monumental and most of Zelda’s siblings were angry with her, all the time, and she'd broken the law today, and Alfred might have been in love with someone else. She had no road map for this, other than to be rigid and unmoving as she scrambled for purchase in the new facts of the conversation.

And some of it was the old hurt, too, the whole Charlie Williams thing. Because what was to stop Alfred from changing his mind, all of a sudden? Being with Jo would certainly be easier, she would just travel the world with him and they’d never come back, and - Zelda would be ruined, she already was ruined, and she would just be stuck here.

There was never going to be anyone like him.

Alfred was holding her so tight and it felt like his touch was the only thing tying her down to the bed, like if he was not clinging to her she would have simply floated away from the sheer force of her disbelief. She squeezed her eyes shut, tight enough that it stung, like this would protect her from the wave of hurt that had already come and enveloped her whole body. She wished she hadn’t asked.

She wished she hadn’t come here today.

“Am I not good enough?” Zelda asked, and her voice cracked, and there were tears coming from behind her closed eyes even as she tried to prevent them through force of will. Even if nothing had happened - and she believed him, that nothing had happened - it was bad enough that he couldn’t answer the question, bad enough that he didn’t know.

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   J. Alfred Darrow

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AMAZING set by MJ

Alfred’s brows furrowed. “Of course you are,” he answered at once, honestly surprised by the question. He had never, in all of his pondering and fretting over the situation since Thursday, thought this reflected in any way whatsoever on her. It was all about him, in his mind. He’d screwed everything up, he’d betrayed her, he’d failed Jo. He’d slipped and he wasn’t sure if it was a stupid thing that had happened once or if it was something that had been buried inside him for the past year, just waiting to be recognized. He didn’t know if he’d ever know, was the thing. He wasn’t going to have any normal interactions with Jo again, because even if she hadn’t been holding him at arm’s length, emotionally, he didn’t trust himself to relax around her any more. And all of that depended on her surviving on her own, out there in the snow, which — wasn’t a given.

He squeezed Zelda tighter to his chest. “I love you,” he said again. “I’m not going anywhere. Jo knows that. It was just — I’m sorry,” he continued. “I’m sorry about it, and I’ll probably be sorry about it forever, but it’s never going to happen again. It’s over,” he said, which had become almost like a mantra at this point. “I know you weren’t ever going to ask me to choose, but I’d choose you. I love you.”

  

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

Zelda tucked her arms over his, some buried instinct telling her that if she was touching him more she would feel less untethered. Because surely if she had been better - if she had been enough, on her own - Alfred would have known, for sure, that he was not in love with Jo. There would have been no if it would make her stay at all. But she wasn’t enough.

Her muscles had relaxed - less because she was relaxed, but more because she could not sustain that level of stiffness for long, especially not when he was here and holding her and saying that he loved her. Her eyes were still closed, with wet tears mingling on her cheeks and she could not stop them.

“I need - I need it to be done,” she said, still in that weird broken tone, with the thickness in her throat, “I don’t want to make you choose but I need it to be done, even if she doesn’t leave, even if she comes back.”

This felt worse to verbalize now, with Jo maybe out in the blizzard and everything from this afternoon, but - she needed it to be done, because she could not continue with the shadow of Jo Smith hanging over her head.

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   J. Alfred Darrow

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AMAZING set by MJ