February 19th, 1891 — Alfred's Flat, London

A three word letter two days ago, and nothing since. Alfred was very well aware of what that meant: no matter what Zelda said, they were not doing well. He didn't know what to do about it, though. Every time he'd offered to answer her questions, she'd insisted she didn't have any. Any time he'd tried to explain things without being prompted by a question, she'd seemed annoyed and insisted she didn't want to hear more. But she wasn't talking to him about anything else, either. This would have been so much easier if they could have just sat down and talked about things, as Pablo had pointed out on Valentine's Day, but Alfred knew there was no chance of that. They'd been lucky to get two minutes aside to themselves in the hallway at the luncheon; most of Zelda's chaperones wouldn't even allow them that. The next time he actually saw her might be next month, for all he knew, and he would just have to twiddle his thumbs and hope she wasn't storing up resentment in the meantime. If this was a normal courtship, he could have gone and paid a call on her on any random morning, and at least gotten to gauge her reaction in person even if they weren't able to speak privately. This was not a normal courtship, though, and Alfred was fairly certain that if he showed up at the Fisk home someone would lie to him about Zelda being otherwise occupied rather than letting him in.

Things were weird with Jo, too, but with that at least Alfred felt that he had some footing to stand on in trying to fix things. Being able to invite her over and get a sense of what was actually going on, beyond just the words she put on the paper, would make all the difference. He'd been too busy trying to deal with Zelda last time, and he'd had a time-sensitive letter to send off, but tonight he had nothing on his plate except getting things smoothed over with Jo. He couldn't keep on with both of them sending him stiff, stilted letters.

As soon as he got back from the Voyager he got out glasses and a small assortment of alcohol bottles, which he arranged on the kitchen table. He'd brought food home, too — mostly to make sure they didn't accidentally drink themselves sick, because Alfred had no intention of letting her leave until things had been repaired between the two of them.

"In here," he called when he heard the fireplace flare up, indicating the arrival of someone by floo.

  

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

Despite knowing it to be terribly unfair of her, Jo avoided Alfred's letter for nearly two days before considering a response. She knew him well enough to recognize the semi-formal tone he was using with her, hell even his signature wasn't his typical J.A.D. It wasn't the first time he'd signed as Alfred, but she knew from prior experience it was used in more serious conversations. So, either the mention of Zelda was a soft cushion of lies to which he would soon deliver the final blow, or he was uncomfortable maintaining his friendship with her. Either way, Jo wasn't jumping at the bit to see him once more. She so rarely ended friendships with such finality, and never one as important as this one. It was almost as bad as losing a romantic partner.

Almost.

She arrived at Alfred's flat with the same unsettled feeling she had left with on Valentine's Day. Only, this time she better knew what to expect. Jo was dressed well, almost as well as she was at the recent luncheon, her gloves securely in place. Somehow or another, she would not cry here today. Not as she nearly had the other day, and not as she had in December. Alfred deserved a better friend than the one Jo selfishly yearned to be.

Following his voice, Jo eyed the food and alcohol curiously. Surely, Alfred wasn't intending to get her drunk before severing their ties? What was the point in dragging it out? "Hello," Jo eventually greeted. "What's all this?"

  

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"This," he said with a vague gesture towards the table. "— is alcohol. I rather thought you were familiar with it," he joked dryly. "Don't tell me you've gone all innocent because this bloke wants to marry you. You won't be any fun at all."

He was teasing, of course. He knew what she meant. She hadn't expected this, because she'd expected everything to be different, after their last conversation. Best to dispel that notion right away, though, because it was the last thing on earth that Alfred wanted.

"I invited you for drinks, remember," he pointed out more quietly. He didn't have any hidden agenda or ulterior motives, here. He just wanted things to be like they used to be, before they'd gotten complicated with silly magic spells and sarcastic letter exchanges.

  

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

Alfred's teasing was unexpected, to say the least. Jo was expecting a disappointing conversation, an apology, maybe even some excuses. But, teasing? It hadn't even crossed her mind as a possibility. Zelda couldn't possibly have come to terms with their friendship in the span of four days. Not when she was upset to the point of throwing a tantrum with him. So, what then? Was this to be a secret now?

"You did," she allowed, her tone still a bt hesitant. "Is Zelda okay with this?"

  

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Alfred rolled his eyes at her question. "Honestly, both of you," he said, mildly exasperated. It was not exactly an answer to her question. He didn't have an answer to her question. The last thing Zelda had communicated to him was that she was glad he had such a good friend and that the two of them were fine. Did he believe her? Not in the slightest — but he wasn't going to rearrange his life based on the assumption that she would be upset with something that she really oughtn't to be upset about. That wasn't being charitable to her, to make up rules and impose them on himself and then start resenting her, when she had said nothing at all about it. And besides, Zelda was a capable and mature person. If she had a problem with something like this, she could have said so.

"I don't send her a filled out datebook every week for approval," he said sarcastically, taking a chair. "Just like I don't tell you what to say in your letters. She trusts me — I trust you — we're friends, and I asked you over for drinks," he said, turning his attention to one of the bottles and removing the cork. He paused, the gestured for Jo to sit as well, hoping she'd follow his lead and let the subject of Zelda drop.

  

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

Well, that wasn't going to end prettily.

However, that wasn't on Jo to deal with. If Alfred was okay with potentially upsetting Zelda because of their continued drinking in private, then who was she to tell him otherwise? Zach was fine with the friendship and, really, he was the only one she truly had to consider here.

Eyeing the numerous bottles on the table, Jo spotted and quickly reached for the spiced rum. "You've been holding out on me," she said with mock disapproval. Taking the chair opposite his, Jo sat down and immediately regretted deciding to wear her corset here today. The bones were going to drive her insane before the day was through.

  

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beautiful set by mj

Alfred grinned as she took the bottle, more because he'd convinced her to sit down than because of what she'd said. "Yeah, I save my best for when things are weird and no one wants to admit it," he joked, pouring his own glass and then taking a look at what she'd chosen.

"I didn't know you liked rum," he said. He always associated rum with islands, and the Caribbean, and subsequently the sea. It seemed like a sailors' drink. Previously, he thought he'd usually seen her with scotch or beer. Maybe that was just his own bias in what he offered her, though, since they were usually drinking at his place. He had been holding out on her, just unintentionally.

  

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

Jo chuckled. The tension in the room was still there, still rippling beneath the surface as though a strong current might bring it all back to the forefront of their thoughts. It was just easier to ignore with him acting so normal. Perhaps they could still be friends after this, perhaps Zelda would one day understand. "One way of avoidance," she answered before reaching for her own glass to pour her drink into.

"It's my favorite. Tried it once somewhere south of the States, best drink I ever had." She shrugged. The locals suggested mixing it with a blend of coconut milk and some other flavor she couldn't quite remember. Had Jo had it her way she never would've drank anything else. "It's expensive here, though. The import cost and all. So I drink whatever's available usually."

  

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Alfred laughed. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asked, leaning in as though he were afraid someone might hear, though it was only the two of them in the flat. In a stage whisper, he continued, "I don't pay import taxes. Shh!"

He did on the things in his cargo hold, of course, when it was relevant — he wasn't a smuggler. But he also wasn't a trader, and he didn't tend to pick up a lot of things abroad that he intended to unload once they reached England. Usually they were just stores for the voyage, and no one much cared if he wasn't going to unload them; the inspector would just open the storeroom up and glance over the tops of the boxes and make a mark on his clipboard and move on. The things he brought back for himself, on the other hand, that he had squirreled away in his cabin — things like the spiced rum — technically ought to have been checked in and taxed on arrival, but he never bothered with it. He just didn't like the superfluous paperwork, and no one was likely to show up at his flat to track down a few bottles of booze and some souvenirs here or there.

  

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

Jo took a small sip of her drink, savoring the taste as it warmed her from the inside out. The last time she'd enjoyed it was early last year sometime, a stupid long time ago. She followed it by another quick sip. Yeah, rum was most definitely her favorite form of alcohol.

"Sounds like you should be sharing more often then," she laughed over the rim of her glass. Truthfully, Jo didn't realize that Alfred made many trips to the Caribbean, she thought he rather focused on heading west. "Or take me with you next time you go and I'll buy myself a case of it."

  

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"A case might be a little harder to smuggle in than a bottle," he pointed out with a chuckle, turning his attention to his own drink. He took a sip, then looked up at Jo again. "Speaking of your travels, though — any upcoming plans? Or did you decide to marry your fellow first?" he teased.

  

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

"That's what the many layers of dress are for, Alfred," Jo laughed. "A woman can hide a great many things beneath her skirts." Liquor bottles, relics, anything really. The bustle helped, too.

She tensed at the mention of marrying Zach. It was a tense conversation, one the pair was leaving unaddressed for the time being. "No plans," she said a bit mournfully. Jo had eventually confessed her lie to Zach and left it at that, though she was beginning to itch for the open seas, for the fruitful labor of work. "He hasn't managed to convince me yet, either. He owns a shop — Whizzard's Books in Hogsmeade. Only way I'd be talked into marriage is eloping, and he can't risk it for the sake of the shop. It's a mess, really." She took a heavier drink of her rum then. "We don't talk about it much."

  

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"I know very well what women hide beneath their skirts, Miss Smith," Alfred teased. He wasn't sure if she'd intended it to sound the way it had, but he didn't really care — it was right there and he was a sailor, he wasn't going to let it slide without remarking on it.

Her comments about the fellow had him wrinkling his nose at her. "You're willing to elope, but not to have a wedding?" he asked with a frown. "Explain that one to me. Are you afraid of big dresses? Ooh —" he said suddenly, as though he'd had a brilliant realization. "Is it churches? You're too much a heathen to step foot in a church?"

  

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

"What a surprise! A notorious sailor knows what lurks beneath one's petticoats. Tell me, Mr. Darrow, did you find a bottle of rum lurking in the mysterious depths? Or was it the Loch Ness Monster?" She laughed.

Jo thought if anyone was to understand her stance on marriage it might've been Alfred, so her smile quickly dropped into a frown at the realization that he didn't. It wasn't the actual wedding or any of the rest that Jo fought so vehemently against, but the idea that she a) required a man to live a fulfilling life and b) that once married she would be expected to settle down into a more traditional role. Zach wouldn't ask it of her, not explicitly anyway, but his sister and mother would. Sooner or later it would combust, and wasn't it better to spare them both the pain of that fight now than later?

She sighed and downed the rest of her rum before pouring a second shot's worth and downing that one too. "I'm no heathen," she began, though, really, she was. "I love him, I would happily be his wife if it meant not having to go through the ridiculousness of courting and the likes. If it was just him and me and none of the rest of it mattered. But it does. We would have to have a very public relationship and it just ... it wouldn't end well."

  

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Alfred listened, but he thought Jo was drawing the negatives of the situation out more than she should. If her family had let her go cavorting around the world, they were unlikely to turn into the Fisks reincarnate the moment she started courting — he could not imagine that Jo's freedom would be so severely limited as Zelda's was, whatever the situation. Still, he wasn't going to dismiss her concerns out of hand; he knew from experience that there was a kernel of truth in everything she'd just rattled off.

"So, courting is awful," he said with an exaggerated nod. "Grant you that. But the fact that your here means you've already got a great deal of leeway from your family," he pointed out. "So I don't think it has to be so awful. The only rules you need to follow are the ones you impose on yourselves," he continued — which was true even for him and Zelda, because the only reason they were putting up with any of this was that she didn't want to alienate her family; if it had been up to him, they'd have been married by now with or without her father's blessing. "So just talk him 'round until it's the kind of thing that'll make you happy."

He was better at giving advice than he was at taking it, he realized — this courtship with Zelda did not make him happy, not really, but he was determined to endure it for the promise of what would come next.

  

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

"It isn't my family that's the cause for concern," she insisted with a hint of disappointment. Obviously, if things were as simple as that she'd have no issues whatsoever. But how could they go from publicly strangers to married without at least a few eyebrows quirking up in their direction? More than that, Zach relied upon the income of wealthy Hogsmeade folk, none of whom would visit an establishment of ill repute.

"I wish it was as cut and dry as what he and I want, but it isn't. Zach love his shop — maybe even more than me," she added with a dry chuckle. "I don't want to push him into a position where he has to choose between the two."

  

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beautiful set by mj