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. 

Fletch hesitated and picked at the arm of the chair. He thought of the beauty he'd seen in that quiet moment — of Theo lounging and reading, oblivious to the world around him. Of Theo's kindness, his warmth, his stubbornness, his grief. The quiet intensity returned to his gaze: his unrealized longing to touch this man's soul. "I want to know you, too, love," he said. "For all my talk, I'm just shit at knowing what to ask. But if I have questions, I suppose I'll know to ask them, now."

He went quiet for a while after that, gazing into the fire and ruminating. He really hadn't been the best to Theo in that regard, had he? It probably looked at this point like all he wanted from the man was his body. He'd just never had to ask. People told him or they didn't. If they didn't, then it wasn't his business. But for Theo, he'd find things to ask, if only for the man to be seen.

"I feel like a right arse," Fletch chuckled at last. "Always talking, never asking. No wonder you think I'm a bastard."

"Not at all," he replied easily. "I'm just respect our promise not to pry. But, he was a major part of your life. It's natural to have stories to share."

He eased back in his chair to slouch and stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankle. "Speaking of that promise though. It's alright with me if you pry. I want you to know me."

Fletch chuckled at the thought of Theo roughing it. "That much I can do. Traveling, I mean. Got so bloody used to it." He tilted his head to the side just a little, considering whether or not to go on. "Would it bother you if I talked about him some?"

He listened intently, nodding along in understanding. "Aye, I've seen my father's ledgers back when I was still meant to be his heir. The supplies to support the journey there and back, the insurances for injuries, the routes and times of year that are best for each and what that means for cargo changeovers. None of that of course is something you can experience through paper but we've suffered damages enough time to squalls to imagine the true horrors."

Theo offered a small sympathetic smile and shook his head. "I know my books are just fantasy. They're a good escape but nowhere near reality I know, it's okay. Don't need to let me down gently on that one. As for sailing...it's your cage. I can't in good conscience place you back in it just to be free of mine...traveling could be fun though. Maybe one day..."