"No, not really." Jo muttered before taking a longer sip of her beer. Mothering Ilona was rewarding — taxing and stressful, but rewarding. However, Zach and she still hadn't fully worked out how they were to provide her with a decent reputation and life. Jo often times felt as though they were waiting for some great catastrophe to decide for them, and this was without their continued argument of whether or not Jo was to remain in Ilona's life or not.

None of these details were ones she felt comfortable divulging to Alfred. That he knew of Ilona's existence was already stressful enough. "It's complicated and messy. I might not be fully submerged in the sand anymore, but I'm not out of it, no." Jo often wondered if she would ever be free. Somehow, she suspected the answer was no.

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beautiful set by mj

If he'd been hoping for reassurances, this was lackluster at best. There was a knot in his stomach and Alfred thought a little desperately I can help, but could he? He wanted to, because he didn't want to feel that he had contributed to Jo's life crumbling around her, but he wasn't exactly well equipped to offer advice or support. She said it was complicated and messy, but he didn't know anything about it; he didn't even know who the us was when she'd talked about settling down during their last conversation, though he could suspect or assume. If he was actually going to be of any help, though, he needed to know a lot more about where she was and what was going on, and that wasn't information he had any rights to any more. Did she even want his help? And supposing she did, what was he actually going to do? Pay for her dinner and then march her down to his cabin on the Voyager and go alright, now tell me everything?

Zelda wouldn't like that. She trusted him, probably, and if he explained it then she would forgive him, but she wouldn't like it. If it was just a chance run-in with Jo in Capetown it might have been alright, but a heart-to-heart following a confessional letter he only vaguely remembered writing, which in turn followed a market conversation he'd neglected to mention for no very good reason... this was becoming a pattern of things that Zelda would not care much for at all.

"I wish you hadn't left. In the blizzard," he admitted, staring at his beer. "Not that I'm blaming you — I understand why you would. I just... wish things had happened differently."

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

Alfred had been the one to abandon her first. Zelda was still willing to fight — even physically if it came down to that — but Alfred had given up first. 'Let her go,' he'd said. And now he was claiming to have hoped it would've ended differently? Sure, he had kept her captive when it was just them, but when push came to shove that hadn't mattered anymore. Not when Zelda was present and his obvious choice.

"My toes also wish I hadn't left." The pinky toe was beyond repair and she had lost two of the tips on others. At least her big toes were still intact, though, so her feet didn't look too grotesque.

Then, more seriously, she continued with her bidy tense, "It was always going to end that way. Whatever happened that Thursday had solidified it for you."

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beautiful set by mj

Alfred wasn't sure whether to be surprised that she still remembered that Thursday with enough clarity to bring it up as the driving point behind the dissolution of their friendship or not. It had been a long time, and there was, actually and in point of fact, nothing that had actually happened on that Thursday. Viewed that way, it was ridiculous (perhaps as ridiculous as the pair of them being in the same bar in Capetown tonight) to have called it out specifically. On the other hand, she wasn't wrong. That was the watershed moment in his mind; the day (minute, second) that everything had changed. Of course she would recognize it, because she would have felt the shift between the two of them, even if she didn't know why.

He sighed and raised his class listlessly. "Suppose you're right," he admitted. He certainly hadn't felt like he'd had many options left to him, the day of the blizzard. If he'd had real choices, surely he would have chosen anything — anything — rather than letting her throw herself into the blinding snow.

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

Perhaps it was wrong of her to expect more of a response, but the disappointment that settled in her chest proved that she had. An explanation, maybe? An admission of a mistake? Anything that might have provided her some answers. She sipped at her beer, unable to even look in his direction now that the disappointment had settled in so heavily.

"I wrote you a letter. That's why I was there that day." She offered after placing her glass back down on the bar.

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beautiful set by mj

Alfred looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. He had known (or at least suspected) that she had not really flooed to his flat in order to pay him for the rum. He hadn't asked her then, and hadn't expected her to tell him. The offer of information now was suspect. He still hadn't asked. Did she want him to? Did she think it would help anything for her to tell him what the letter would have said? It couldn't change the past, and it seemed unlikely it would make much difference in the future.

There was a question on his face that he didn't verbalize. If she wanted to tell him, she could.

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

She felt the weight of his gaze but didn't turn to meet it. He hadn't asked for her to elaborate (he hadn't asked at all) and so doing wouldn't help matters much. Jo wasn't sure why she'd said it at all, either. Maybe it was some foolish hope that he'd give her answers if she gave him some. Except, he hadn't asked for answers. Was she breaking some unknown boundary by providing them?

She shrugged. The coin would be impossible to explain, not without sounding clingy and desperate. "I wanted to say goodbye, I guess. It feels ridiculous now."

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beautiful set by mj

Well, that wasn't the truth. At least, it couldn't have been the whole truth. If the letter had only said goodbye, she would have given it to him. So there was something there she wasn't saying, and Alfred didn't think he ought to ask, only — she had been the one to bring it up in the first place, so there had to be a reason she'd done that. She wanted to talk about it, right? At least on some level. Maybe she was going through the same internal back-and-forth he was, torn between what he wanted to say and what he thought he had the right to say, after so long holding each other at arm's length. Maybe she was weighing what someone else would think of this, too, like he kept thinking of what Zelda would say. Did they both have someone's voice in the back of their heads?

He pushed his plate towards the far edge of the bar, slowly and deliberately. He didn't think he'd eat anything else tonight. Once he'd accomplished that he looked at her for a long moment, then said as though he were testing the air for something: "Jo."

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

For a split second, Jo thought he was leaving. She thought she had said too much, the boundary crossed, and this was to be their absolute final encounter. And, for a moment, she didn't dare turn to face him. These brief run ins, however painful and distressing, were at least a reminder that their friendship had existed. That once upon a time he had been her best friend who understood so much more about her than anyone else in her life could. To leave that door close meant finally saying goodbye to that understanding and Jo wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready for that.

When she finally did turn her head towards him, Jo found that she could think of nothing to say. She'd offered a small, partial truth and now it was his turn to do the same.

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beautiful set by mj

There was the feeling in the air of something unfinished, of potential, of things that could happen. He'd been waiting to see if it resolved itself into something definite and concrete and small. It easily could have. She could have brushed past his saying her name, and moved the conversation along to something less consequential than the crossroads they were standing in. The moment might have simply collapsed in on itself, buried under the weight of its own possibility without any action from either of them at all. But Jo looked over at him and said nothing, and the air crackled between them with something that defied names. Alfred slid one hand along the countertop until it brushed against the top of hers, and he thought of all the times he'd touched her before: the day she'd shown him her tattoos because he was dying and desperate for distraction, and sitting on the sofa with their shoulders and knees rubbing because they were too intoxicated to mind, and grabbing her wrist when she was looking for the floo powder in the same spot it had always been, and pulling her out of the Thames and having to ask before he patted her back to help dislodge the water in her lungs.

"Let's stop all this," he said.

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

The silence that followed her name drowned out the crowd around them. Alfred could have followed it up with anything: a half formed excuse to leave, a brief explanation, an accusation. Nothing had the potential to surprise her when it came to him anymore.

Well, nothing aside from him touching her gloved hand and suggesting they 'stop this'.

"I don't understand." Jo hesitantly answered. What exactly was he suggesting they stop? The run ins? The awkward small talk? Then why touch her? He'd touched her on the docks that day, but that was out of necessity only. They hadn't had any positive form of physical contact since he taught her how to do a bit of wandless magic, and even that wasn't exactly a wonderful experience.

Jo kept her hand perfectly still, neither withdrawing nor moving closer. "Stop what, exactly?"

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beautiful set by mj

Alfred looked from his hand on hers up to her face. "Pretending we can get on without each other," he said, as though it were obvious. His voice as he continued was slow and steady, as though he were explaining immutable facts of the universe rather than trying to convince. "We're not very good at this. These conversations where we try to pretend nothing about us mattered. And it's clear neither of us are very happy about the way things are now. So — let's just stop." He paused, trying to gauge what impact, if any, his words had had on her. He should have stopped there, probably, but he worried suddenly that it wouldn't be enough and she would pull her hand away and this moment, the moment heady with possibility, would be gone forever — so in a rush he added, "I'm tired of not having you around. I want you back in my life. I want my friend back."

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

Jo knew he missed her — one didn't send drunken letters about tattoos without at least thinking of the person — but she hadn't expected the sharp turn of events. Her response had been equally emotional and vulnerable, and he had answered with such a brisk, distant letter that Jo had briefly wondered if it was him who penned the initial one at all. But now...now he wanted to be friends again? The abrupt turn of events didn't sit well with her, not when she was halfway convinced he resented her.

"Happiness doesn't count for much these days." Jo responded, withdrawing her hand an inch to create some space. "Our friendship caused complications in your marriage — I caused complications. Would she be okay with us being friends again? I've hurt enough people and still am likely to hurt more." Ilona, Zach, now possibly Alfred (again). This novel hunting adventure wasn't guaranteed to work long term, and they still hadn't settled the plan for marriage or not.

She withdrew her hand another inch, breaking eye contact and to look just past his head. "I needed you then. I needed you and you rightfully chose her, I - there's a lot still to be settled and I can't need you again if you can't be there."

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beautiful set by mj

When Jo moved her hand away Alfred mirrored her, until there were about six inches of clear bar between their hands. He heaved a sigh at her I can't need you again, but it was a fair criticism. Especially given how she'd described the turn of events her life had taken lately: he'd let her down, before. He didn't have the right to ask for her back if he was only going to do it again.

Which brought them to the question of Zelda. Alfred should have talked to her about Jo already, he knew, but it had never seemed like the right time and he still wasn't sure if it was a sore subject. Aside from when he'd first seen Jo back in the country and told Zelda he'd run into her, they hadn't discussed Jo at all since the blizzard. Back then, in the thick of things, Zelda had said things like this makes me crazy and I need it to be done, and then she'd seen Jo back in England and hadn't told him about it at all, until he'd brought it up first. Avoiding the topic had certainly been the safest way forward; don't rock the boat. But as a consequence when Jo asked now if Zelda would be alright with their friendship, he didn't actually know.

He wanted to say that of course she would, because she trusted him and because things were different now. She'd trusted him even back then, when Alfred and Zelda were surviving on a few minutes stolen here and there at parties with her family in full view, and Jo could drop by his flat and drink with him. She'd trusted him when there was nothing formally tying them together and his schedule was unpredictable and sometimes he left for months at a time, and Jo sometimes joked about going with him. Alfred understood why things had been untenable then, but even then she'd trusted him, so there really shouldn't have even been a question about picking things up now, when Jo no longer represented (at least in Zelda's mind) a more convenient outlet for emotional intimacy. But of course, that way of rationalizing things took that Thursday out of the equation. If their friendship had just ended, rather than imploding the way it had, they certainly could have picked up again without issue. But Zelda had asked him once if he was in love with Jo, and she hadn't told him Jo was back in the country until he'd already known, and she hadn't told him about Jo's child, so — he didn't know what Zelda would think.

"It should never have been a choice in the first place," he said, with some bitterness underlying his tone that he could find no actual direction for. "I made a lot of mistakes back then. But that doesn't mean we were a mistake," he insisted. He met her eyes and nearly tried to touch her hand again, but stopped. "I want to be there for you. I'll be there," he promised. "I'll talk Zelda through until she understands. Because it's not — it shouldn't be a choice. I don't have to convince her of anything, or change anything, I just need to explain it right. I can be a good husband and a good friend, both. There's not a conflict there."

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The following 1 user Likes J. Alfred Darrow's post:1 user Likes J. Alfred Darrow's post
   Jupiter Smith

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

She eyed him skeptically. That he needed to convince her at all proved there was an issue and choice to be had. Even if nothing ever happened between them, even if every ounce of potential for something to happen was as cursed as his ship once was, Zelda was suspicious of their friendship. It was why he'd pulled away, why they hadn't been able to take that trip around the Mediterranean, why he demanded Zelda 'let her go'.

As much as Jo wanted to fall into old patterns, she simply couldn't. Hurting Zach and Ilona was inevitable, almost as certain as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West. She didn't need to hurt Alfred or Zelda, too. Jo finally had enough clarity to realize she needed to minimize her impact.

Sighing, Jo rubbed her head tiredly. "There was a choice though, and please - please believe that I don't fault you for making it." She would have made the same choice in his shoes. "Talk to her first before deciding anything with me. I'm not - it isn't worth straining things. However much I miss you, it isn't worth potentially hurting you, too."

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beautiful set by mj

Alfred had been speaking in absolutes since he took her hand in part because he was afraid of walking away from this conversation without any resolution; afraid that if they did, Jo would flit away like a bird and it would be months before he had another chance to even see her, much less be earnest with her. And it was easy to say things like I want, I can, I will when they were in Capetown, separated from the real world back home by leagues of travel and weeks of absence. It was easy to make promises here, where the rest of his life seemed distant and malleable and easy to shape around whatever they agreed to. But talking to Zelda first was the right decision, and he recognized that as soon as she said it. Jo had matured since they'd be friends, he realized, and she was braver now too. Maybe braver than him.

"I'll talk to her," he agreed. "I'll write, and then when I come back home in the spring we'll talk about it in person." Letters were terrible at conveying tone, and he'd gotten into trouble in the past for misreading what she'd written between the lines, so best to do it in person — but best too, he thought, not to wait any longer to bring the subject up. There were already enough things he hadn't brought up, and adding tonight to the list wouldn't help anything. "But in the meantime," he added, "If you need me, just write. Please write."

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