Tilting back his head, Fisher laughed toward the ceiling. It was a rich, warm sound that spoke of joy and good humor. He turned his beaming countenance over toward the blue haired woman, "Ahh, but then the question becomes just what would you steal? My innocence was lost years ago. My strength is a possibility, as you are a formidable woman who likely has appetites to match. My heart, perhaps? That would be an impressive bit of thievery to steal away with an sea dog's heart. Or would it be my liberty you'd like to steal? Find yourself a new pet on this festive night." His gaze slid along the chain to the woman standing behind them.<br/><br/>Honestly, it wasn't slavery itself that Fisher found abhorrent, it was the misuse and abuse of people. A well treated slave could have a rich and full life, just like any freeman. Was this slave comfortable in her submission, or did the collar chafe at her soul?<br/><br/>Sitting up, Fisher slapped the table with a grin, "So many questions and not a single answer to your query. My mother would have caned me raw for this sort of tomfoolery. I came here for supper and a good time. Would you care to share a meal with me and tell me a little about yourself before we head upstairs? Otherwise any mischief or romance to be found is liable to be interrupted by a ferocious growling." He patted his stomach, then, without waiting for an answer, ordered three bowls of stew, bed, cheese, and more ale.