"...Oh." Whatever tension had flitted across his features eased considerably. "Suppose that makes sense. We'd have to do it out loud, though. The practicing. And again, I'm shit at it, and I've already got enough of an accent with it that he looks at me like I'm a crayon short of the box, so...I may not be doing you any favors. But I remember enough of how the old man used to say things that maybe we can make it work, yeah. I've gone and started talking aloud again," he realized, and switched back to sign. "It depends on where you're at in the room. Bed, yes. Fireplace, yes. Washroom gets tough to hear. I can hear you walking and pacing clear as day. Shit way to build a house, if you ask me."

Fletch squinted suspiciously. "Why?"

Theo look bashfully back at Fletcher but wiggled his brows slightly then hid his face in his hands. "I have a reason to be, no?"

"Both? Either? What makes you happy. If I'm to meet your brother-in-law one day though perhaps I should try to earn some respect points?

"Do you really hear EVERYTHING in here?"

"Yeah, well...I imagine we'd speak amongst company, anyway. The wrong person might see this as too much of a kindness from your jailor. And I really don't want the girl knowing how much I know, if we can help it. Or Neal. Going to play stupid and grumpy with them for as long as I can."

He stopped as Theo gave him the most pointed look he thought he'd ever received from the man. A breathy laugh escaped him and broke the silence. "You're a bit saucy today, aren't you?" he murmured, basking in the attention. "You going to be this worked up all day? I'm not bothered by it, mind. It's nice to see you get a little bold."

Fletch rubbed at his chin, considering Theo's request. As he did, some of that spark left him, and he grew distant. "Mine? Or his?" he signed.

He grinned and then blushed. "You are shockingly modest," he teased. "Not all signs are perfectly safe for public company. You'll have to get creative when you start describing your—," he glanced down at Fletcher's crotch and smirked with a deeper blush.

"You don't have to sign, it's alright. I like the sound of your voice too. Just it's nice when you do sign too. It's like a secret hug.

"...would you want to teach me any of them? Something for us? Something I can learn for you?"

Fletch sat up straight, a panic at this sudden and alarming shift in his love's demeanor. "No — wait — I didn't mean to make you — " He relaxed somewhat, though, as Theo began to laugh, and his concern melted into relief. Well, and more concern, because he really was incredibly shit at signing. The number of times he'd gotten himself into trouble with it in Adela were too many to count. Maybe he was a smooth bastard in other matters, but in this one, he was horribly clumsy. "Alright. I did warn you I'm shit, though," he signed. "You've got to tell me when I fuck it up, yeah? Or just laugh at me. I'll get the message."

He tilted his head, looking Theo up and down and arching an eyebrow. "Besides, it's easier to be rude this way. And make you flustered. So I'm not about to complain," he added with a little smirk. "And I'm sure we'll be plenty close enough tonight for you to hear me again."

Fletch frowned and looked off to the side, his mind drifting to what Theo had asked. His lips parted habitually, and he began to speak aloud for a few seconds before realizing what he was doing. "Sorry. Love the sound of my own voice, it seems," he said before switching back. "It's been Trade most of my life on account of the business. It was Trade on the Mirabel. Trade in ports. Mum and the girls and I spoke a little of our own tongue, you know, but it's been so long. I almost can't remember. Only other ones I've picked up, really, are sort of useless outside of I'káa. I can speak Ven's tongue with Big Guy, but the rest of their people are dead, and Eln sort of just points, grunts, and hits things. And both of them have told me I'm shit at that one, too, so..."

He shrugged, smiling his charming smile. "Can't be good at everything, I suppose," he said aloud.

"Oooooh," Theo mouthed without making a sound. The next words out of Fletcher's mouth however caught the nobleman completely by surprise. Before he even realized what was happening, Theo was overcome with deep emotion and burst into tears on the spot. He covered his mouth as they came pouring down his face and he laughed wetly. 

"I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before," he explained, trying to fan at his face some and wipe the tears away aggressively. "And I realize now I'm such a rude cur. I've never once asked what your home language is or where you're originally from. I mean I suspect given what you've mentioned of rebellion and other things but...I'm so sorry."

Pulling himself together he continued. "Umm, I think I'd prefer sign, it's definitely a lot easier for me but I understand it has limitations and I don't require it if you at all. I—what you did the other night...that I would like again. Maybe. If you wanted. Don't have to though."

"Heh. Yeah, that's...not what I'm concerned with, love," he said, lowering his voice until it was barely above a whisper. "I almost broke on the spot, earlier. I'm hanging on by a thread as it is. I don't want to be the reason that happens again." He chuckled and grinned in spite of the danger of it. Then he had a thought of a very different nature. "You know. One thing I've never asked you at all: do you like signing better? I'm shit at it, obviously, but...do you want that? When we're alone?"

His reassurance made Theo beam, his eyes crinkling with joy. "You are my bastard man, yes. But," he paused and looked around towards the door and placed one boot flat on the floor to see if he could sense any vibrations of people moving.

"If it is not too torturous for you and it is just the two of us...I see no reason not to flirt. If you're that concerned can always practice your signing.~"

His chuckle became a hearty laugh, though when he spoke, it was still carefully quiet enough to stay between the two of them. "No, no. I wear that one as a badge of honor. I am a bastard, and proud of it. And I'm your bastard, and I like the sound of that. So don't stop calling me for what you see. Be a shame to never hear it out of your pretty mouth again."

Fletch grimaced after he'd said it. "Sorry," he added sheepishly. "It's hard not to be a relentless flirt around you now that I'm allowed. But I'll be good."

He shrugged, unbothered by Fletcher's apology. It had never been an issue for him. But his shoulders dropped some and he had the good grace to look embarrassed. 

"Sorry, that's not exactly a great term of endearment now is it. Don't really think that one through and how it would make you feel. I like seeing you talk. I like knowing your stories and imagining the things you've done or understanding the things you're passionate about or against. I just don't have as many stories. I don't think you're a bad or horrible person though...just for the record. Just a rogue and a smuggler who has stolen something very special to me of late," he added with a fond smile.