19 February, 1893 — Night time — Zelfred's House, Sanditon Terrace
The Voyager had arrived in London midmorning, without Jo Smith stashed on a cot in one of the store rooms, which really was for the best. He'd known it was a bad idea when he'd offered, and she must have sensed the same thing in replying; though he might have wished things were recovered enough that they could treat their interactions more casually, they just weren't there yet. Even after his talk with Zelda, they wouldn't be there right away; no matter how his wife took it, Jo was going to worry that Zelda wasn't really alright with things for a while, he suspected. Maybe her concern in that department was warranted; there was only one way to find out. The conversation they were planning to have had loomed large in his mind since they'd first mentioned it in the letters; earmarking this or that to be unpacked later, in person.
But when he'd first come home there had been other things to focus on. Orion was bigger, more animated, with a wider vocal range than the binary crying or not that he'd had when Alfred had left, and all of that was an adjustment. When he'd first come in the door and taken the baby from Zelda she'd had to say you don't have to hold him like that, which had left him feeling out-of-sorts and a little guilty; of course he had known that time would pass while he was away but up until that moment he had not really known how much would change. The house was different, too; things rearranged, reorganized to accommodate the baby's changing needs; the things he'd left behind pushed out of the forefront or put away while her things took prominence in all the rooms. It looked and felt like he didn't really live there anymore, which, of course, he hadn't been. So there was a lot to deal with and a lot to talk about before they could approach the talk.
Seeing the dark circles under Zelda's eyes, Alfred had offered to put Orion down to sleep, but it turned out he didn't remember how — or maybe it had all changed since he'd been gone, or maybe Orion just didn't think him familiar enough to relax and fall asleep in his arms any more. In any case, after trying and failing he'd had to hand the baby back off to Zelda, and he'd idled restlessly around the kitchen while he waited for her to finish. He made tea, just to have something to do so that he didn't feel entirely useless. It had nearly stopped steaming when Zelda reappeared. "Hey," he said hesitantly, wanting to smile at her but not sure whether she would be annoyed at him for not being more helpful in getting their child to sleep. "Did you, ah — should we talk? I made tea," he pointed out. "But if you want to wait until tomorrow morning, that's fine. It's — you know, there's no big rush, I mean."
But when he'd first come home there had been other things to focus on. Orion was bigger, more animated, with a wider vocal range than the binary crying or not that he'd had when Alfred had left, and all of that was an adjustment. When he'd first come in the door and taken the baby from Zelda she'd had to say you don't have to hold him like that, which had left him feeling out-of-sorts and a little guilty; of course he had known that time would pass while he was away but up until that moment he had not really known how much would change. The house was different, too; things rearranged, reorganized to accommodate the baby's changing needs; the things he'd left behind pushed out of the forefront or put away while her things took prominence in all the rooms. It looked and felt like he didn't really live there anymore, which, of course, he hadn't been. So there was a lot to deal with and a lot to talk about before they could approach the talk.
Seeing the dark circles under Zelda's eyes, Alfred had offered to put Orion down to sleep, but it turned out he didn't remember how — or maybe it had all changed since he'd been gone, or maybe Orion just didn't think him familiar enough to relax and fall asleep in his arms any more. In any case, after trying and failing he'd had to hand the baby back off to Zelda, and he'd idled restlessly around the kitchen while he waited for her to finish. He made tea, just to have something to do so that he didn't feel entirely useless. It had nearly stopped steaming when Zelda reappeared. "Hey," he said hesitantly, wanting to smile at her but not sure whether she would be annoyed at him for not being more helpful in getting their child to sleep. "Did you, ah — should we talk? I made tea," he pointed out. "But if you want to wait until tomorrow morning, that's fine. It's — you know, there's no big rush, I mean."
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MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER