The sun shone brightly in a nearly cloudless sky, a little too bright for Joan's liking as she shaded her eyes and stepped through the metal door of the bridge onto the deck of the Bird of Paradise. It was quiet and peaceful, showing that even when the most dire of crises occur, the rest of the world remained happily unaware. Caught up in the adrenaline-fueled rush and unrelenting terror of trying to rectify last night's blackout adventures, Joan just now noticed the light breeze and warmth of the sun that bounced off the wood of the ship. She took a breath, feeling the swirling tempest in her mind attempt to settle and the sticky nausea that sat in her stomach all morning fade, and with the exhale, she limply fell into a crouched position. Joan let out a long and exasperated wail. Crowe emerged from the cabin behind her, amused at her small breakdown.

"Good job, doctor."

"I never want to do that again," she said with a muffled voice, her head resting on her knees.

"But you look like you were having such a wonderful time flexing your operative skills," Crowe half-mocked, half teased.

"I will have an aneurysm if you keep talking," she snapped her head up and threatened.

"Don't be so dramatic."

"I think my reaction is warranted in this situation, especially since I'm responsible for the well-being of a random person who I don't remember operating on, much less meeting." Joan stood up during her rant to face the airship captain. "I think I'm allowed to freak out, thank you."

"I know Gideon may not seem like it, but he's more durable than he looks."

"I'm still worried," Joan declared. "He needs a hospital. Sure, he looks stable now, but what if I missed something? What if he has some kind of underlying issue and takes a turn for the worst? If something goes wrong--"

"You worry too much," Crowe accused.

"That's not--"

"Have you heard of the city of Alba? It's a two hours' flight north from here. It was our original destination, and it also happens to be the closest city with a fully functioning hospital. As soon as our engineer finishes repairs this afternoon, we'll leave." Joan said nothing while she listened. It was a solid plan, considering the circumstances. It seemed that this was the best that could be done, she supposed. "Does that ease your worry?"

"...A little," she relented, but wasn't completely convinced. Crowe hmphed with a small smirk from her acquiesced response. He turned and began walking to the ship's gangway that descended to the metal dock below. Joan hurried after him. "Hold on, I'm not done with you, yet!"

"And what else do you need from me?" Crowe stopped on the middle of the gangway and looked at her over his shoulder, his hazel eyes with a certain amber tint that exuded authority.

"Uh-um..." Joan stammered, her sudden aggressive impulse evaporating from the unexpected confrontation. "I- uh- what's in Alba?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, what kind of airmen are you? What do you do?" She tried to save herself from the awkward and maybe intrusive change in topic. "I'm just concerned since your airship was attacked." Joan motioned to the back starboard quarter of the ship, Crowe following her gaze. It was hard to deny the flagrant gaping hole in the airship's hull. "I wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt, at least." Crowe shrugged it off and continued walking onto the dock.

"No matter what kind of airman you are, the skies are a free-for-all. If you look like you might be carrying something valuable, you're at risk of being targeted by ships looking to make an easy profit."

"You were targeted?"

"Of course, it's the unspoken law of the skies. It happens." It happens, Joan mouthed to herself mockingly.

"And you're okay with that?"

"If we weren't, we wouldn't be flying. That's just how it is. Makes things interesting." Interesting? Joan listened to him incredulously. "For some, we look like an easy target, being the relatively small ship that we are. They are mistaken." He smiled with pride with that last declaration. "And as to your question, we're making an important delivery. We have a client in Alba, and he's been waiting for his parcel quite some time. I've been told it's value is immense." Joan's eyes widened. These people must be good at what they do. "Our attackers must've been tipped off at it's transport. They made the mistake thinking that we'd be unprepared to defend ourselves."

"How scary."

"I suppose. But now I have a question for you."

"Okay..." Joan said tentatively.

"Why is a hungover doctor moonlighting as a potionist's assistant in the middle of nowhere?"

"I'm not a doctor," she corrected.

"So you say."

"I'm not."

"And how can you stand working for that self-absorbed wizard? I spoke with him for not even two minutes and it made me want to impale myself with a knife."

"That's wonderful."

"How can you stand it? I'm genuinely curious."

"He gave me a chance when I needed it and I'm very grateful," she tried defending him. "Plus it's nice here." Crowe snorted in derision. "It is! It's very peaceful here. I needed to get out of the city."

"And how long ago was that?"

"About a year--"

"You have been here for a whole year? I. Am. In. Shock! How can you live in a town so brainwashed as to believe that magic can solve all their problems?"

"Not a fan of magic?"

"I'm not a fan of mindless devotees. Don't you understand? As a doctor, this must be infuriating." Joan bit back the I'm not a doctor remark and answered the pompous captain.

"You get used to it."

"Hardly," he spat. "Are the sticks really all that you dreamed it would be?"

"Hey, I like it here, and I like what I do," she defended, but with a slight waffling in tone. "I'm still helping people."

"You 'like' what you do? I certainly had that impression of you at the potionary. Remind me, weren't you hiding behind the counter?"

"That was--"

"And if you really wanted to help people, you would have stayed as a doctor. But here you are, withering away with these worthless idiots here in Useless. I'm sorry, Euless." He wasn't sorry.

"And why do you care?" Joan lashed. "Or are you just having fun insulting me?" She marched ahead of Crowe. Joan cleared the swaying dock and stepped back onto soft land, but Crowe slowed just before the last metal slab transitioned into dirt. 

"I want to offer you a chance to get back in the game." This sudden declaration stopped Joan in her angry tracks, utterly dumbfounded.

"What?" She turned around to look at him.

"You don't want to be here. You can't hide it, it's too obvious. So why not leave? My crew needs someone who can provide medical assistance under pressure. You did it while drunk, and quite expertly at that, so I'm adequately convinced of your capabilities. I think this can be beneficial for the both of us."

"You want me to just drop everything and leave?"

"Why not?"

"'Why not?'" Is he serious?! "Do you realize what you're asking of me?"

"You've seen it, haven't you? Of course you have, you're not stupid. You're not wanted here. There's no place for you here. So why not come and join us? Join our team, help protect my crew members, and you can relive your dreams once more. You can save people."

It seemed like an impossible offer-- no, it was an impossible offer. No one just waltzes up to you and offers you a position in their company's business on a whim, much less a spot as a crew member on one's delivery airship. You, just a random person the boss somehow met on the street. It didn't seem real at all! It had to be a joke! And yet... no matter how flashily the captain looked, or how haughtily he acted, or even how nonchalantly he spoke of arial battles- where, shall it be reminded, the consequence is falling from the sky- regarding this offer, he was undeniably serious. Joan had only just met him, but she could see a certain determination in his expression. She just couldn't feel the same.

"I'm sorry but I can't," she reflexively responded after a pause. Slowly, she continued, "I'm done being a doctor. That dream's gone. It's not who I am anymore, and I can't be there to help you when you or your crew are in trouble."

"Then don't be a doctor," Crowe offered. "Join the crew anyway. We'll teach you our business and how to sail. No medicine."

"No medicine...?" She didn't understand.

"You might've come here for peace, or maybe you came here for a different reason altogether, but I think your time in this self-imposed, obligative torture is long due for a change. So why not have a grand adventure?" Joan was speechless. She didn't know how to feel. "Think about it," he said as he pulled back his coat sleeve to glance at an aviator watch strapped to his wrist. "I'd like to give you more time to mull it over, but we are in a terrible hurry. I can give you until one to come up with an answer. I won't wait here a minute more than I have to."

"I--"

"Think about it," he interjected. "But if we don't see each other again, Ms...." Crowe reached out with his right hand.

"Berwin. Joan Berwin." She took his hand and shook it.

"Captain Crowe Meyer," he finally introduced. "Ms. Berwin, if we don't see each other again, have a nice life." He released her hand and turned around with a simple wave as he walked back to his Paradise. "Bon courage and all that."

"Sure... you too." They parted ways, heading back to their respective worlds, one on land and one in the sky. Crowe paused for a moment to look back, to watch her walk away and fade into the small bustle of the secluded town. His face hardened into a serious look, displeased, but he turned around and marched back to his airship, nonetheless. Crowe shoved his hands into his pockets, and with each heavy step on the hard, metal dock, a hollow thud resounded. The free winds brushed his face and rippled his long, crimson coat, happily welcoming the captain back to their liberating embrace.

(continued in A Sudden Offer II)