Fairytale of New York II

"You called for me, Admiral Hargreaves?"

"Yes, Belfast. Sit down."

Belfast did as she had been told and waited. The Admiral jotted a few more notes and sighed. It wasn't the usual annoyance she'd have at the state of things. It was more like a quiet exasperation.

"Normally, I would never ask you this—but how do you feel about escorting a stranger?"

Belfast narrowed her eyes slightly. That was new. She had a gut feeling this wouldn't be an official affair. But for the Admiral to make such a personal request meant there's more to this.

"You know I would never disobey orders, ma'am. But if I may ask, why?

Admiral Hargreaves allowed herself another sigh. "It's my grandnephew. He's coming from the United Kingdom for Christmas."

"Your grandnephew? And... What's he like?"

"Just an ordinary Fleet Air Arm pilot. He's not a civilian. So don't worry about me asking you to babysit him."

Belfast was starting to wonder where this was going. "But...why me?"

The Admiral crossed her arms. "I can't just send out anyone. One, I really trust you. And two, there's…a little catch to this."

"Ma'am?"

"Let's say it's a rather delicate situation. You see, my grandnephew, William, is a young man with a...well, a history with women."

"One you would call…a 'ladies man?'"

"A Casanova or Lothario, you may say. The worst part is that it was easy for him to attract people. Getting committed to them is another story."

"…And how bad is it?"

"More exes and more short-lived flings than I'm willing to count. And that's before he even joined the Senior Service. Who knows what else he has done since then."

Belfast leaned back, resisting the urge to rub her forehead. So she had been asked to accompany someone who is basically a serial heartbreaker.

"Are you sure about sending me for this, ma'am?" she inquired, though it was less an effort to get out of it and more of trying to find out the extent of her task.

"You're very duty-driven, Belfast. I've seen you rebuffing the advances of men and women before, and no one has ever tried again since. Perhaps if he tries anything with you, you can put him in his place."

Belfast wasn't sure if she should be flattered, but she could agree. She had never had the time for distractions like romance. If he's just as bad as the Admiral described, she'd have a few choice words for him. So that left only one more concern.

"Still..what about my regular duties?"

"Edinburgh can cover for you; no matter how clumsy she is, she's still competent enough. And besides, the others can afford to miss you for a day or two. You trust them, yes?"

"Understood, ma'am. May I know the details of this...task? What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Pick him up at the JFK airport, show him around. Then I suppose you could escort him to my brother's usual Christmas Eve party. And by that, I mean keep him out of trouble."

"Understood. When will he arrive?"

"Tomorrow. His plane lands at 1100 hours."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you. You're dismissed."

Belfast stood up and bowed. But before she could reach the door, the Admiral spoke again.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Don't tell anyone this, and you don't need to wear your uniform. And... treat it like a day off. It's a personal request, after all."

Belfast nodded and slipped out. Only when she was already outside did she start thinking about the peculiar request.

It would be a new experience, to be sure. A hole in her ordered routine. But she figured she could handle it. And if he did try to obnoxiously hit on her—he would learn the hard way that she's no easy woman, a pushover, a meek maiden.

She just had to smile.

This could be interesting.

***

The terminal was even more packed and noisy during the holiday season, and the congestion outside was an even bigger nightmare. At least there were no delays, which provided a little consolation, and she had made sure to leave the port early and beat the traffic.

As the Admiral suggested, she was wearing one of the few casual clothes she had, a blue blouse with no embellishments and an equally simple white skirt under a navy blue coat, along with a black headband replacing her usual one.

She learned that he would arrive in uniform; the Admiral also told her earlier. He said it would help in finding him as he was the only one who did. The irony of it wasn't lost on her.

Weaving through the crowd, she finally spotted him, hauling his luggage, dressed in a Royal Navy dress uniform under a charcoal gray overcoat but without the cap. He was lightly built, not too tall, with tousled sandy-brown hair and an easy air about him, even when it was clear that he was tired.

There was nothing that screamed "ladies' man" from his appearance. Perhaps she shouldn't be too quick to judge, but without dropping her guard.

Here we go.

She took a deep breath before walking up to him just as he began looking around.

"Excuse me, Sub-Lieutenant William Hargreaves?"

"Ah, yes," he readily smiled like it was an automatic response—Once he had a clear look at her, though, his surprise was more apparent.

"Yeah, that would be me. And... you're my...hm...chaperone?"

"Indeed. I'm Belfast."

"Pleased to meet you. I hope we'll get along fine."

The lack of flirtatious comments or even an obvious interest in her—not even a leer—didn't escape Belfast's notice. It was a good start, she figured—and a little curious—perhaps even a little stirring. Now, she was more determined than ever to figure out his game—if he was actually playing one.

She was about to reach for his luggage, which wasn't that big—suggesting that he wouldn't be staying long—when he beat her to it.

"It's okay, it's not that heavy. And besides, if you are going to show me around, you don't need to be distracted by these."

Belfast would really like to say that his supposed chivalry was more distracting, but she was never known for being blunt. So a polite smile was all she gave as she led him out into the bustling wilderness that was the Big Apple.

***

Her charge, as Belfast soon found out, wasn't very talkative. But maybe that was because he was busy admiring the sight of Queens, sometimes letting his mouth hang open in awe. She couldn't blame him. When she first arrived in New York, even she was left enchanted by its sheer energy, its scope, its breadth and width. And when he finally got to Manhattan, she was sure he would gape even more.

So far, he had been genuinely interested in the sights, and only the sights. He made token attempts at conversation, usually to ask about this place or that building, but no glances or suggestive comments or even a wink. And if he had intentions to make any, she couldn't tell.

Her experience taught her how people like him, or what he was supposed to be like, were usually so obvious. Some were better at hiding their intentions, but they never lasted as long as this man did.

It was odd. Relieving. Disappointing. A little irritating.

She wondered if he was indeed a decent person—or a more-than-decent actor.

"Say...do you know a good place selling fish and chips? I'm hungry."

That was a welcome distraction from the thoughts running amok in her head, which was something she wasn't used to. And it was an amusing one, too. Did he miss home already?

"I might, but we need to go to Brooklyn for that. Would that be okay with you?"

"Oh, Brooklyn. That's on my list. I would love that."

"Very well, we'll take the subway."

***

Belfast noticed that he was quick to seize the empty spot across her, even though the one beside her was vacant.

He spent most of the trip not looking at her, even though there was nothing remarkable about the route or the passengers. If anything, he stood out the most in that uniform, though whether he realized it or not was a mystery, just like himself.

The ride was mercifully short because he never said a thing, and she wasn't about to start a talk. They emerged from the Broadway Junction and hailed a taxi to the nearest place serving fish and chips, a hole-in-the-wall near the Marine Park.

He insisted on paying for the fare and opened the door for her when it should be the other way around. But it seemed he was just being polite because he didn't say anything, nor did his gaze linger on her.

Belfast had already had enough of the guessing games for now, so she simply told him to follow her.

He seemed reluctant to leave the view but was quick to relent. She led him into the pub, one of the Admiral's favorites, an establishment so small and unassuming it might as well be a secret. Maybe it was, indeed, if the stories of it being a former speakeasy were true. It smelled of fish despite being quite far from the shore.

The patrons, as usual, turned their heads as she entered. Usually, the sight of the Admiral coming in soon after would ensure that the staring wouldn't last, but apparently, William had the same effect on them—only this time they were murmuring.

Belfast paid them no heed and noticed he didn't either, as they claimed the only remaining table.

"Quaint little place. Not much for decorations, aren't they?" He looked around, having comfortably seated—as comfortable as a man sitting on a creaky old chair could be.

"It isn't their selling point. The food and drinks are, which is why the Admiral likes it."

"Oh, did she? I'll trust her, then."

He soon had his eyes glued on the menu, even though he had said he wanted fish and chips. He didn't steal glances at her, and she knew because she was doing just that. When she realized it, she stopped. He didn't know all this.

"What food is good?" He asked.

"I thought you wanted fish and chips?"

"Well...I thought I'd ask for your recommendation if you have any," he set the menu aside. "Too bad there's no jellied eels, though."

Recommendation? Of all things, that was a question she was unprepared to answer. But no, she would never let that show.

"...Well, if you're craving fish and chips, then I'd recommend that. The Admiral would usually have it."

"Then that settles it."

He called the waiter and ordered just that, with a pint of bitter ale. Belfast ordered a cup of strong tea, and just that, because she wasn't hungry and she needed something warm.

No more attempts at conversation from either of them after that. It was a relief.

Almost.

She would never admit it, but it was getting under her skin. Why? He had not tried anything, and he had not made a single flirty comment. But why did she ask this, anyway? She didn't even want those in the first place.

The tea arrived first, and she sipped it slowly. Not much compared to Edinburgh's brew, but it did soothe her nerves.

His order arrived not long after, and despite looking quite eager to see it, he ate slowly. The light in his eyes was unmistakable, however.

"Is the fish and chips to your liking?" she asked.

"The old lady's got a good taste. Thanks for bringing me here. It felt almost like England."

"Glad to hear it."

He didn't say anything else. He was clearly enjoying the meal.

Belfast decided she had to find out his game. The sooner, the better.

"Are you not going to ask for my number?"

He looked up as he was about to bite into the chip, brows furrowing.

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't been hitting on me."

He slowly set the food down, leaned back, and laughed.

"Is that some kind of unwritten rule? Oh no, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, that's why."

"Is that why? Because you thought I would get angry at you for hitting on me?"

"No. Because I know that's not the right thing to do."

"Not the right thing to do..." She echoed the words, tasting the oddness of it. "And is that a rule?"

"Well, a personal rule, I guess."

"But the Admiral said—"

"I'm a womanizer?"

"According to the Admiral, you are."

"I was."

"You were?"

"Being seventeen with mostly absent parents was rough. So I...kind of rebelled in the only way rich snobs knew. I became a bastard with a massive entitlement issue. Think I could get others to do what I want. Buy their favors. What do I get? People talking and hating my guts behind my back."

"Seventeen...?"

"Old enough to know the temptation. Too young to know better. But I got lucky."

"What happened?"

"The old lady stepped in. Beat some sense, figuratively and sometimes literally, into me. Reminded me of what matters. What I wanted. It took five years. I was stubborn. Even now, though, I guess she...well, she is either still unconvinced I've changed, or she's just worried. Either way, that's why you're here, aren't you? To make sure I don't chase skirts."

She could hardly believe it. Her charge was...an actual decent person?

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. It was unfair. Forgive me, please."

"Oh no, it's fine. And..."

"What is it?"

He leaned closer, "....No, I will not ask for your number."

He sat back and resumed eating as if the conversation had not happened.

Belfast had to stop herself from saying the words she wanted to say. She didn't want to ruin the atmosphere, but she could feel it—her defenses were lowering.

The tea didn't help this time.

***

She didn't know if that was the result of their talk earlier, but for the first time since they had met, he struck up a conversation, and not in the way she expected.

"Thank you."

"Oh? For what?"

"For giving me a chance."

Did she? After all the assumptions she made?

"I'm the one who should apologize again. I've been assuming and judging you before I even got to know you."

"You had all the right to be wary. The old lady had her reasons. I mean, she did catch me kissing a girl in the bathroom during one reception. Her rants afterward were very colorful. That was embarrassing and...hilarious. I swear my ears were hot after that."

"In the bathroom? That's...um, bold of you, I must say."

"In the women's bathroom—but that's the old me, and I'm not proud of it. Now...I try not to be a bother to the people I meet. That's why I didn't try anything. Besides, you strike me as the dutiful sort. And you probably had enough of people asking you out. I can understand that."

"How did you know?"

"A guess. Call it intuition—that you would shoot me down like you did with others. Not saying I would hit on you if you weren't, though."

"Then why didn't you ask for my number earlier? I did give you an opening."

"You know, I'd rather get to know you first."

"Get to know me?"

"Only if you'll allow me, that is. Otherwise, that's just an answer to your question."

It wasn't a demand, and he wasn't being pushy. And it was not a flirtatious comment. He was just being honest. He wasn't trying to get in her good graces—and possibly into something else after that.

No. It was him, actually wanting to know her, not as a woman, but as a person. Many had failed to get something that simple.

She'd be lying to say it wasn't pleasing. A little alarming but...pleasant.

"I would like to, too."

"Glad to hear," he went back to his plate.

It was refreshing to see someone who didn't jump at an opportunity right away. He had been given one, yet he chose his meal first. And that was worth remembering—and a smile.

He noticed and smiled back.

It was so fleeting.

Hers, however, wasn't.

***

He had wanted to stay longer in Brooklyn but remembered he had to check into his hotel, so she flagged down a taxi, and he paid for the fare. Again.

It was a posh place in Midtown East, and Belfast didn't need to be told to know a night would cost a pretty penny. It wasn't surprising considering his family—she only wondered why he wasn't staying with his grandfather instead.

"Sorry, I would like to change for a bit, okay?"

"Understood."

He soon disappeared into the elevator, along with the bellhop and his luggage.

Being left alone, with no distractions, gave her the time to think about the past few hours. Nothing eventful, but certainly eye-opening.

The person she was told to watch over was not like what the Admiral had described, and her assumptions, built upon it, had been proven wrong. Perhaps the Admiral wasn't aware of that change. Maybe she was just worried like he said. The Admiral did have an unfortunate habit of assuming the worst of things—and sometimes, of people.

Now that much was clear, was she still needed? He certainly didn't need to be watched over. If he wanted to tour the city on his own, he could. He clearly was just humoring her presence.

Or was it, really? Didn't he say he wanted to know her better?

She had to shelve the thoughts as he reappeared, this time wearing a white button-down shirt under a dark blue suit and the same overcoat. His hair was still messy, but the pair of black brogues was a nice touch, she had to admit, as did the absence of a tie.

And he didn't ask how he looked. It was as if he wasn't trying to impress.

Of course, he didn't need to. He was already—

No. No. No. She must not go there.

"I'm thinking of going to the Empire State Building after this," he remarked, a welcome distraction from the dangerous turn of her musings. "And actually, um...I think I can manage on my own, so if you want to go back now, it's alright."

That simply won't do, Belfast decided. A maid sees her task to the end—as he will soon find out. And besides...

"Wouldn't it be bad manners to leave a lady hanging after expressing the desire to know her better?"

His expression barely changed, but there was some color on his cheeks.

"Fair enough. If you say so, then I'd be glad if you would join me."

"Gladly."

***

There was never a time when the Empire State Building wasn't crowded, but the line today moved quickly enough that Belfast didn't mind the queue.

She had been here a few times, from the first time she arrived in New York to this day. The sight from the observation deck was still remarkable, but they were no longer enough to move her.

It was more than enough for him, however. She was correct when she guessed before that he would be awed more by Manhattan. He kept his hands pressed against the viewing window and his face close to it like a child finding wonderland, sometimes murmuring, sometimes exclaiming "wow" and "beautiful" and other flattering words. Words that many had used to describe her, but they were often insincere, hollow.

It was ironic that the first person to say them like he truly meant it in a long while was someone who didn't seek her attention.

"Hm? Something happened? You're smiling."

"Oh, nothing. Just happy you're enjoying the view."

"Oh yes, I love the skylines and then streets and all the things you can't really see in London—not to mention, I like heights, as funny as that sounds, which is likely why I became a pilot. Being in the sky, being free...is always the best feeling."

"Interesting, considering the Hargreaves' strong maritime tradition. Even your grandfather briefly served in the Royal Marines before making his fortunes in shipping."

"Which is why I joined the Navy, too, instead of the RAF. Well, it's more of a compromise, but I'm not complaining. Ironically, I don't like being on ships that much. I've lost too many meals to the sea acting up, and sometimes even when it didn't. Yet, when I fly, I can see the ocean from up there and the ship below, and it is always fantastic to see, and I'm not close to throwing up all the time. Best of both worlds, you can see."

"That sounds like a wonderful job."

"The best I could hope for. But enough about me. Why don't we talk about you?"

"About me?"

"Yes, and I mean not your history as a shipgirl. I'm talking about things you like and dislike. Like movies, books, music, all those things."

"I didn't know you would be interested."

"Well, it's called 'getting to know' each other, isn't it?"

"Ah...yes, you have a point."

"So, is that a yes?"

"Yes, it is."

And so they talked and talked, of things ranging from favorite movies and books to the food they liked. Their tastes were nothing similar, sometimes vastly so, but the differences only served to keep the conversation going.

And what was more important was that she got to share it with someone outside her small circle and the Admiral—it was a reminder that she was much more than just a ship or a weapon. She was a person, and he saw her as one.

He asked more than he talked. Listened more than he spoke. He would always wait for her to finish before responding. She had little patience for small talk, but this was different. The mundane things they shared were nothing hollow or shallow.

And he remembered everything she said, sometimes bringing it up again when the time was right. Many who hit on her before couldn't even remember what she said ten minutes ago, distracted by other things.

It was a relief. It was surreal. It was a little troubling.

"Hmm. Still a couple of hours before it gets too dark. I want to head to Central Park next and have dinner while I'm at it. Would you...like to join me?"

If he was hoping for a yes, it didn't show. There was no hint of nervousness, no hint of a double meaning behind the invitation, nothing that would hint at attempts to influence or coerce. He was just genuinely asking for her company.

And there was no reason to refuse.

"That would be my pleasure."

He smiled a little at that.

***

The walk to Central Park was as quiet as it was short. Maybe he was saving the rest of the talk for later, or maybe he was starting to get tired. She would oblige.

The park, however, was alive with couples, families, and tourists milling about—and soon, so was he. He darted from one spot to another, and Belfast was more than glad to follow along.

"This is better than Hyde Park. Wow. Just...wow. It's like we're not in the middle of the city at all. Amazing."

"Indeed."

"Too bad I forgot to bring my camera because I had to rush my packing. But...well, there's always next time."

"Next time?"

"Yes. I'll absolutely come back here when I can. You can't really see everything in just a few days, after all."

Belfast wondered why she felt a little relieved to hear it, but she didn't have much time to dwell on it. He soon spotted something else, and it was another race to get there.

The trip ended when he reached Bethesda Terrace. She had not visited this part of the park for some time, and she was glad to see that not much had changed.

"Oh wow, this is beautiful."

He never got tired of saying that.

And she never got tired of hearing it.

He wasn't one to stay very long in one spot, but he had the look of someone who had found heaven, and his eyes shone as bright as the lights reflected on the lake.

"You seem happy," she remarked.

"Happy? Try overjoyed."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Guess I'm falling in love?"

Her breath hitched.

"With... New York?"

"Yeah...it's not something I can really describe. But it's like finding something I didn't know was missing. I...like this feeling, and I wish I could keep it forever. It's like a fairytale. Silly, huh? But that's the best way I can describe it."

So she had read him wrong. It didn't matter. The sentiment was as genuine as ever.

"Then...you should come back here, and maybe you can."

"That's a promise, and I won't forget."

That was reassuring. She hoped he wouldn't, and she would try her best not to forget.

She would like to forget the other thing that was nagging at the back of her mind, though.

***

Since he mentioned looking for dinner, they stopped by Tavern on the Green. It was almost full, but they were lucky enough to get a table by the window that its patrons had just left. The popular spot had a price to match, but he didn't seem to mind. The quality did justify the cost.

And the view was worth every penny, too, as they could see the setting sun illuminating the park across the street.

"Gorgeous view, huh."

"You can say it's one of the best in the city."

"That, I won't disagree."

Belfast smiled at that, then asked, "Is it really okay for me to stay? Aren't you on a budget?"

"Me? No. Most of the time, I'm thrifty. But since I'm on vacation, I would like to splurge a bit. That includes treating a...friend."

It took a moment for her to find her voice.

"I-is that what we are now? Friends?"

"Well, I can't really see you as only an acquaintance now, and I like to think I'm not one either. Unless I'm mistaken."

"N-no. You are not."

"Besides, I like doing this. It's nice to have someone to enjoy a meal with. I'm not a big fan of eating alone. I...had too many of those before."

She could feel it. The hurt. He was still smiling, but his eyes betrayed the pain. Worst of all, she couldn't say she understood because she was so used to eating alone that she had grown numb to the isolation.

She had to ask, "If I may, why are you not staying with your grandfather, and instead, checking into a hotel, then?"

"Because I know nobody would be there at his place. He's always busy, especially during the holidays, and I imagine his office would be more of a home to him than that house could ever be. It's no different with our family home in England, so why bother? True, there's nobody in my hotel room but me, but at least I'm not alone in the building."

"Then...what about your parents?"

"Well, I told you they are mostly absent, didn't I? That hasn't changed now. In fact, part of the reason I'm here is because they aren't coming home for Christmas. Got tied up with business affairs in Dubai or something. Mum was just tagging along with Dad, though. And I'm not really close with Gramps either because he went to America before I was born and never looked back. We only started talking when I got into college, and even then, not too often."

"I...see."

"But hey, I don't resent them, even if their absence was the reason I acted the way I did. I mean, they still provided for my education and needs...just not much beyond that."

"Still, I'm sorry to hear it."

"Thanks, but don't be, really. It's in the past."

"So you're not lonely?"

"Well, I'm mostly staying at where I'm based, RNAS Culdrose, and I'm not home much, so I can't really say I am."

"And...what about now?"

"Hm, right now? Not at all. Thank you for that."

Her chest felt warm, and the warmth soon grew, but there was also a chill running down her spine. It was the most confusing, most satisfying mixed feelings she had ever had in a long time.

***

They walked and talked some more after that, had coffee from a bodega on their way back, and before long, they were already back at his hotel.

"Thank you, Belfast. It's been a wonderful evening."

"Don't mention it. I had a great time, too. Thank you for that."

"I'm glad you did. And, um...I hope this won't be the last?"

"Of course. Your grandfather has a Christmas Eve party tomorrow, no? The Admiral will be there, and I would've to accompany her."

The lobby was bright, but she could've sworn the shine in his eyes was brighter.

"Re-really? That means..."

"I'll see you tomorrow...William."

"Ye-yeah. See you tomorrow, Belfast. And good night."

"Good night, William."

It got easier. The more she spoke the name, the less strange it became.

His smile was the last thing she saw before he disappeared into the elevator. Though she preferred to go back right away, she ended up heading to the nearest couch.

She was feeling a little drained, and not from the walk. Her head felt lighter than air.

The Admiral had been mistaken. He didn't need watching over. He didn't need someone to make sure he was alright or behave. He didn't need a protector, a watcher, or anything of the sort.

He just needed someone.

A friend.

And she was more than glad to give him that friendship.

That, and perhaps more.

It was that thought again. This time, it wasn't content to remain a mere whisper.

And that left her worried.

***

"So, how did it go?" The Admiral didn't even bother to wait for her to be seated first and asked the question as soon as she entered the office the next day.

"It went well, ma'am. I made sure of it."

"Did it? He didn't hit on you or anyone?"

"No, ma'am. He was polite. A gentleman, I dare say. A good listener with good manners. He respects boundaries. It was a pleasant surprise."

"...That's the first time I heard you speak of someone that way, and it's someone you've only met once. If you aren't smiling like that right now, I would've believed you're being sarcastic. But you are clearly not. Not with that face you're making."

"I beg your pardon?"

"So it seems I've been wrong about the lad, seeing that even you are willing to vouch for him. If only he knew what a big deal that was. So, no flirting on his part, hm?"

"...No, ma'am. We just talked about things. A normal conversation about normal things."

"Oh really? Then, what did you two talk about, exactly?"

"Things we liked and disliked. And...a bit about ourselves."

Few could faze Admiral Hargreaves, and Belfast was certain her answer shouldn't be one. Yet, the Admiral's eyebrows went up at the reply.

"...Did he speak about his family?"

The Admiral must've known about his family situation, judging from the knowing tone. But the fact she asked anyway was curious.

"Only a bit. He did say he's...usually alone, and his parents are mostly absent. He said that was why he acted the way he did. Anything...wrong with that, ma'am?"

"Hm. No, nothing. Thank you for the reminder. I shouldn't have been too hard on him, thinking he's still the same old brat. Not when I failed to be there for him when he needed it the most."

"Do you...regret it, ma'am?"

"I do," the Admiral replied. "But...seeing him where he is now, maybe I shouldn't—and especially since you told me he's changed for the better."

"If I may suggest, you can talk to him more at the party later, ma'am. See it for yourself. That would mean a lot to him."

There was no answer, only a thoughtful hum and a small nod.

Belfast could feel her entire body turning cold as the Admiral continued to stare at her, even though there was no accusation, no threat in those eyes.

"You know, perhaps I've been wrong about you, too."

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am. If I've offended—"

"No, you haven't. It's just a surprise, a really pleasant one, and a relief. If only he knew what a big deal that was as well. Oh, sit down already."

Belfast had a mind to rub her eyes. Admiral Hargreaves, whom even the toughest sea dogs would never dream of crossing, was smiling. Soft and warm and almost motherly, a reflection of the gentle side she would only show from time to time and only for a precious few.

"Ma'am?"

"Belfast, Belfast, Belfast. You've been through a lot, yet you take everything in stride. And you've always put others first, so much that I and Edinburgh are concerned if you will ever allow yourself even a little happiness. I'm glad now I've been wrong."

"Ma'am, it's not what you think. I'm not—We're not—"

"Stop right there, Belfast, lest you regret it. I'm not saying you two should be a couple. Even just being friends could do you both a world of good—if you would allow it."

Would she?

Could she?

Should she?

"Think about it, Belfast. That's all I ask."

"Yes...ma'am."

***

"Oh hey, it's not often I see you looking out of sorts; I thought the world was ending," Belfast heard Edinburgh quipping when she passed by just as she exited the Admiral's office.

Belfast was not in the mood to retort, but her sister was not one to be ignored, ever.

"No, seriously, what's wrong with you?" Edinburgh asked, her joviality soon giving way to concern.

"...No, nothing you should worry about, dear sister."

"Nothing, my arse. Come with me."

Belfast didn't resist when Edinburgh took her to the kitchen and seated her at a table. She then went to the pantry, combed the shelves to get her supply of tea leaves and cups, and proceeded to brew the drink. It didn't take long because she'd always have hot water ready.

Even just the aroma was already calming to a degree—yet Belfast was still apprehensive about the inevitable talk.

Then again, her clumsy, happy-go-lucky sister had proved perceptive and insightful at times. She would always be there when needed, no questions asked.

"I'm not going to force you to talk, but the tea should help, regardless," Edinburgh said as she served Belfast the cup. "I'm going to sit here with you until you're done."

"...And ditch work?" Belfast couldn't help asking. Not disapprovingly, this time.

"Well, you aren't working either right now. We're even, no?"

Belfast can't argue with that and took a sip, and everything felt a little easier.

As always, her sister's brew was heavenly. Something she never quite managed to replicate. Not that she wanted to, anyway.

"Thank you, Edi."

"No worries. I'm your older sister, after all."

She is, Belfast thought; even when people say she's less capable than her younger sister, she could act the part when needed, and that's more important than everything else.

And so, she deserved to know.

"The truth is...I met someone."

Edinburgh didn't look as surprised as Belfast thought she would. Instead, her eyes lit up, and a knowing smile spread across her face. But she kept silent and nodded, telling her to go on.

At the very least, Belfast knew she wasn't about to be a tease.

"It was supposed to be just a task, nothing more. To keep an eye on him. But...in just a short time, I...feel some kind of connection. And I don't know if I should. It feels like I'm going to a place I don't know, and I'm not sure if I have gone too far, too deep."

Edinburgh waited some more before answering as if to make sure she was finished.

"Oh, I get it, I think. It's a new experience, and it's daunting. Maybe even scary."

"Perhaps."

"But you know, this is the sort of thing you need, I think. Something that could force you out of your little bubble and see the world a little differently. Something that can take the edge off, just a little. I think you should welcome that."

"Even if that means getting hurt?"

"Bel, we fought in wars. We've lost friends. We've been hurt. Did we stop? No. Because if we do every time we are hurt, then we're going nowhere, and the pain will never go away anyway, and we would've lost. But we didn't and came out stronger. And that's why we're here now. The same goes for everything."

Belfast found herself staring at her sister.

"Hey, what's with that look? Can't I say something deep once in a while?"

Her chuckle soon turned into a giggle. She could feel tears escaping her eyes, though Edinburgh had the courtesy of not mentioning it.

"Thank you, Edi. You're right. I'll think about it."

"Here's a little tip," Edinburgh's whisper was almost conspiratorial. "I've found that the regret for not trying hurts more than the regret for things that don't work out. Personal experience. But whatever regrets you might get, remember that there are people who care for you, and you'll be alright."

"Edi."

"Hm?"

"You're the best."

"I'm pretty much the only sister you have, Bel, but thank you."

They hugged and laughed, and that hug was long and tight.

***

The Admiral's brother had never skimped on his parties, even if it was only a family affair with some friends joining in. There was a generous amount of food, drink, and good cheer, all the best he could give to those closest to him—and some not-so-close ones—fitting for an international shipping magnate.

This year, she was there, again in the ballroom at The Plaza, but not as someone escorting the Admiral, and the dress she wore was now more befitting of a guest.

It wasn't too difficult to find William among the crowd, but Belfast was not in a hurry to approach him. Not when he was speaking with the people he needed to talk to the most.

He laughed when the Admiral seemed to fuss over the fact that he left his hair uncombed and smiled when his grandfather patted him on the shoulder. She was content to watch the heartfelt moment as an outsider. Her moment will come.

It did when the Admiral noticed her and nudged him with a tilt of the head in her direction.

He obliged, excusing himself and going to her—a little more hurried than she thought he needed.

"Ah...hi, Belfast. You..."

She knew what he wanted to say, knew why he hesitated. He didn't need to.

"You look great, William."

She was feeling bold, and that surprised her. He, even more so. But taking the step further into the unknown was worth the courage he found.

"...Th-thanks. You look amazing, too."

"Why, thank you."

"And...how have you been, Belfast?"

The last time they met was only yesterday, and yet he spoke like they had not seen each other for a long time. She must be as red as he was now.

"Oh, I'm well. I trust you are, too?"

"Yeah. I'm feeling great. Speaking to Auntie and Gramps really helped. She finally realized that I've changed. I'm no longer the brat I was. She told me to thank you...so, thank you, Belfast."

"Thank me?"

"She said it was your suggestion to talk to me and see how I've changed."

"O-oh? Don't mention it."

"And Gramps told me that my parents will be home for the New Year, so I better be back in London by that time. Guess he yelled at them or something."

"And that's good news."

"It is. And I've been thinking...maybe I should try giving them another chance. Try reconnecting with them."

Belfast recalled what Edinburgh said earlier. The regret for not trying hurts more than the regret for the things that don't work out.

"Yes, you should, William. Give it a try. Even if it doesn't work out, at least you'll be able to say you tried, and the problem's not on you. But never think of not trying. The regret will linger forever if you don't, and you've no one to blame but yourself for that."

"You're right. I should. Thanks, Belfast."

"You're welcome, William."

That was the end of their conversation, and the silence was immediately uncomfortable. His eyes wander from her to the dance and back again. He knew what he wanted, but he held his tongue.

She knew what she wanted, too.

As sure as the tides.

And if he wouldn't say it, she would.

"William, would you like to—"

"Belfast, would you like to dan—"

Their voices clashed, and they stared and then laughed.

"Oh...oh...wow. Sorry, what were you about to say?"

"I was about to ask if you'd like to dance. What were you about to say, William?"

"Oh! Um, well, the same thing, actually. Wo-would you like to?"

"'I'd be honored to."

The dance floor was crowded, but they easily weaved past the others. Despite asking her to dance like a nervous first-timer—which she found somewhat amusing, considering his past womanizing—he was anything but clumsy. He had the calm confidence expected of a pilot. And the best thing was that she was able to keep up and not disappoint.

"You're good at this, aren't you?"

"The only leftover from the old days I'm proud of, actually. And what about you? You danced a lot?"

"...Well, I practice the jig and the reel with my sister in our spare time. Not too often, though, and usually it's only because she asked me to."

"A-ha, that explains it. But maybe you should do that more."

"And why is that?"

"Because you were smiling when you told me that. You actually like it, don't you?"

"I can't say I hate it. But perhaps it's because of my sister."

"I see. But maybe she asked you not for her but for your sake?"

"My sake?"

"Yeah. Maybe she wants you to enjoy life, even if only a little...but then again, what do I know? I don't know your sister. Sorry if I come across as prying."

"No, you don't need to apologize."

She hadn't thought about it. All this time, she had focused on keeping everyone happy and fulfilled that she had forgotten her own self. And perhaps Edinburgh tried to change that, and she failed to notice. Didn't the Admiral say so before? That she takes everything in stride and puts others first, so much so that she would never allow herself any happiness.

"Maybe I should. Thank you, William. You helped me realize something. A rather important thing."

"That's good."

They didn't know how long they danced. For the first time, she paid no heed to the surroundings or the passing of time and knew it wasn't unbecoming of her. She barely realized it when the song ended and her feet ached, the heady feeling lingering like a good wine.

He asked if she wanted to go to the balcony and breathe the night air, and she agreed. They didn't mind the cold and the mist that enveloped the city.

"You know, Belfast, I'm heading back to England tomorrow," he murmured, looking at the stars obscured.

She already knew he wouldn't stay long. But she wasn't troubled.

After all, he said he would return.

"But you'll come back to this city, won't you?"

"Oh, absolutely."

She looked at him, and he was looking back, and his gaze was steady, his conviction clear.

"I'll be waiting, then."

"I'll try to keep that wait short."

But this wouldn't have to wait.

"William."

"Hm?"

"I...need to tell you something."

"Yes?"

The way his face grew hopeful had her heart pounding. She was sure he heard it.

"I don't know how this happened. We only met by chance, and somehow, I felt something. It's like there was some kind of connection. And I'm not sure about it."

She paused to swallow, and just like before, he waited.

"But I don't want it to just end here. I...want to find out. See where it goes, no matter where it leads. So..."

Her lips and knees trembled. The air was still. Even the mist seemed to pause.

"I want to try."

Yet, when he smiled and took her hand, the world breathed, and she could hold the tears back a little longer.

"You...took the words right out my mouth, don't you know that? I want to try, too. Find out the answer. With you. Because I believe it will be worth it."

And she was not afraid anymore.

Inside, the ballroom was aroar. It was twelve. It was Christmas.

"Happy Christmas, Belfast."

"Happy Christmas, William."

"And boy, it's getting chilly out here. I'm going back inside. Got to give my greetings to Gramps and Auntie, you know."

They went back inside, hand in hand, and Belfast was content, knowing the warmth wouldn't end there.

The clock had struck twelve, but she was no Cinderella. She didn't need to run and had no glass slippers left behind.

But she knew she had left him something.

A glimmer of hope, a ray of light, a tiny spark.

And maybe she could leave him her number later, too.