Nellie squinted at her knitting, trying to find where the stitch she'd dropped had gone. She was getting too old to knit in bed by the light of a single candle, but here she was, night after night. It was especially hard to track down a rogue stitch after a bit of gin, and she had definitely enjoyed her share as the night dragged on. She had held out hold that tonight would be more interesting, but Mr. Todd had not come downstairs again after over an hour, so she had retired to her bedroom.

She grumbled, finding the dropped stitch over a row down. She held the piece up, trying to see it better to figure out how to fix it without having to frog the whole damn thing. A shadow in the doorway caught her eye. Mr. Todd was leaning against the doorway in the shadows. Interesting. How long had he been there?

She slid the scarf off the needle, and carefully tugged out the problem row. She growled, pulling out one too many, and needing to pull a whole extra row. She snuck another quick look in his direction. He looked tired as ever, like he could fall asleep right there, leaning against the doorway. She slid the scarf back onto the needle, and set it down on her bedside table, turning to look right at him. "Come have a drink."

He was doing that looking right through her thing. She'd learned her lesson about startling him upstairs though. She didn't relish getting thrown up against the wall violently again—though she had to say that his body pressed against hers was rather nice-so she called out loudly from where she sat on her bed, "Mr. T? Gin?"

He blinked, and registered that she was talking to him.

"Gin?" she asked again, pulling the bottle off the side table.

The corners of his mouth curled up into almost a smile. "You keep the bottle at the bedside?"

"Do you want some or not?" she asked testily, though she was pleased to see him engaged with the reality of the moment for a minute.

He nodded. Nellie jerked her head to call him over, fully expecting him to remain in the doorway. She turned to pour the gin, and was surprised to feel the bed dip beside her as he sat down. She handed him the tankard.

"Thank you." Still polite. There were still hints of the mild-mannered young man he'd been. Mr. Todd knocked the gin back in one with a grimace. He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

Nellie studied him in silence. He was still an attractive man, though his body bore witness the trials he had endured over the last fifteen years. Cleanshaven as a younger man, he now wore a straggly beard. Both it and his unruly dark hair were streaked with grey. His brow was creased—no doubt a combination of age and stress. His skin was pale after so long at sea. With his eyes closed, the dark circles under them were less pronounced.

"What do you need, love?" she asked, laying her hands on his arm. He didn't answer, eyes remaining closed. Her knuckles grazed up and down his upper arm. "Here, let me take the tankard," she took it from his hands and turned to put it on the side table.

He caught her elbow. The warmth of his hand made her inhale sharply. As she turned to face him again, his dark eyes were open, and the desire in them made her tingle.

"I…" he faltered.

"Your Nellie's here…" Her hand caressed his cheek as she knelt up and scooted closer, throwing a knee over his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he buried his head in her shoulder. Her fingers hooked around his suspenders and slid them from his shoulders, allowing her to pull the hem of his shirt out of his trousers. He looked up wide-eyed.

Now or never. Nellie closed her lips on his. It took a moment, but then he was kissing her back. Enthusiastically. Maybe even passionately. He slid her dressing gown up her thighs and but then hesitated, "Is this-?'

"Whatever you need, " she whispered, reaching down for the buttons of his trousers. He was hard in her hand, and she settled on top of his length. He took hold of her hips, and rocked her back and forth with great urgency

She had no illusion that this was going to be any kind of romantic anything. It wasn't long before he cried out his release, shuddering into her arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close to her. "There you are," she cooed, fingers gently raking through his hair. "That should help."

He twitched again, and she kissed his neck as she rose from his lap. "Lay down," she told him as she rolled over to clean herself up.

"I should…" he indicated the door, and started to get up as he refastened his trousers.

"You should lay down and get some sleep, Mr. T," she yawned, curling on her side to face him. She was exhausted by this point herself. "Sleep."

He nodded finally, and leaned over her to blow out the candle. There was a moment of hesitation, but he slid in beside her. Nellie couldn't help herself from pulling him closer into his arms. He nestled in willingly.

"You'll feel better in the morning, love." She pressed her lips to the top of his head. Over the course of a few minutes, his breath evened out as he finally gave in to the sleep he so desperately needed.

What a whirlwind of an evening it had been. Hopefully there would be plenty more of it. She would take the best care of this beautiful, broken man sleeping in her arms, and maybe, just maybe, he could come to love her.