"Sure," he agreed easily, focused for the moment just on the task. He wanted her to succeed at de-cursing his ship, after all, because it was his livelihood, and because in its current condition he wasn't being permitted to actually sail it, which was fairly problematic for a sailor. He turned to lead the way, and that was when he realized that what he had just offered to do, and what he had then agreed to, was taking Zelda Fisk on a tour through the bowels of his ship. Just the two of them, in an enclosed space on an abandoned vessel — which had happened before, to disastrous effect.
Not that he had to worry about ending up in a similar situation. If she wasn't even returning his letters (his painstakingly written and heartfelt letters that he'd been sitting around waiting for a response to for actual months before he'd decided to give up hope and get out of town), the likelihood that they'd end up in bed together before the day was over seemed slim. Still, there was the optics of the thing to worry about, if anyone was around to see them disappearing belowdecks together or heard about this later. More worrisome, at least for Alfred, was the fact that once they were down in the cargo hold together it might be difficult to keep their conversation this... aloof. And he didn't really want it to get any more personal. If he'd wanted some sort of closing statement from her where she came right out and said she wasn't interested anymore (and maybe never had been as interested as he'd thought in the first place), he could have sought her out for one. Instead, he'd planned a trip to India, which was about as far away from seeking closure as he could have gotten.
"There're three cargo holds onboard. We found it in the midships hold," he mumbled in explanation as they preceded down the first ladderwell. There wasn't any going back on his offer now, he figured; he'd just have to take her there and explain what had happened (for the fourth time) and hope she didn't feel inclined to bring up... anything else. "It's three levels down from here."
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER
Not that he had to worry about ending up in a similar situation. If she wasn't even returning his letters (his painstakingly written and heartfelt letters that he'd been sitting around waiting for a response to for actual months before he'd decided to give up hope and get out of town), the likelihood that they'd end up in bed together before the day was over seemed slim. Still, there was the optics of the thing to worry about, if anyone was around to see them disappearing belowdecks together or heard about this later. More worrisome, at least for Alfred, was the fact that once they were down in the cargo hold together it might be difficult to keep their conversation this... aloof. And he didn't really want it to get any more personal. If he'd wanted some sort of closing statement from her where she came right out and said she wasn't interested anymore (and maybe never had been as interested as he'd thought in the first place), he could have sought her out for one. Instead, he'd planned a trip to India, which was about as far away from seeking closure as he could have gotten.
"There're three cargo holds onboard. We found it in the midships hold," he mumbled in explanation as they preceded down the first ladderwell. There wasn't any going back on his offer now, he figured; he'd just have to take her there and explain what had happened (for the fourth time) and hope she didn't feel inclined to bring up... anything else. "It's three levels down from here."
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER