The ship had been droning on for a good while now, her six wings holding steady against a sky gone the flat white of nothing, and Trafalgar had found himself a quiet room near the middle of her to wait out the crossing.
He was halfway through a plate of something warm when the drone shifted, went even and hands-free, and he knew without looking that Alfred had done what Alfred always did the moment the weather allowed it. Set the old girl to fly herself, and gone wandering.
Sure enough, the door slid back a breath later and the airship captain ambled in, coat open at the throat, wearing the look of a man who'd just handed the hard part of his work to the machine and felt no guilt about it.
"There he is." Alfred dropped into the seat across from him uninvited. "The conquering hero, hiding in the galley eating my stores."
"Your stores are awful." Trafalgar pointed at the plate with his fork. "This is the least awful thing on the ship, and even it's putting up a fight."
