Hans sits in place, bottle in hand. He listens to Elizabeth talk, taking note of how pleasant her voice had become. His own was a bit gruff and salty, though he knew he could sing like the best of them - resulting in clean, if a bit rough, tones. As she speaks, he takes another swig, his bottle nearing half-full.<br/>"Aye, Charles talks a lot. But I always got the sense he didn't really<span style="font-style: italic">need</span>to listen, you know?"<br/>Hans spotted a beam of wood that was beginning to decay.<span style="font-style: italic">Will have to have that replaced.</span>As Elizabeth told him she didn't mind the comments, Hans frowned.<br/>"The comments are harmful to your integration, you know. If they are allowed to continue, you'll no longer be a member of the crew, but the<span style="font-style: italic">wife</span>of a member of the crew - in their eyes. You'll have to be one or the other."<br/>He takes a swig of rum again.<br/>"That is, unless you're actually a wife in more than jest. In which case the joke would lose its sting."<br/>As she says she'll be good in a day or two, Hans nods.<br/>"Good."<br/>She rests her head on his shoulder, and Hans feels a pang of... something. He takes a deep breath.<br/>"I wish you could. But I have duties to attend to, you know that. Besides, if we start sleeping together - in the phrase's literal sense, I mean - we would never hear the end of it."<br/>Hans reaches out and strokes her hair nonetheless.<br/>"Sometimes, though, I must admit I wonder. Weather we could pull it off for real. I mean, it's already pretty much us versus the world. And to be honest, I could never imagine having another girl by my side, one way or the other. Does that make sense to you?"<br/>If Elizabeth looks up, she'll see his cheeks are red, but weather the blush is from emotion or alcohol is anyone's guess, Hans included. He takes another swig, as to defuse the statement.<br/>"Sorry, I'm talking too much. It's the drink, I reckon."