Who? Alexander and Liberty Where? The Hamilton Residence When? Backdated - Wednesday afternoon What? Alexander is lonely and hungover.
The previous evening had been great while it was happening. His son was an absolute marvel, and the more alexander had drank and chatted and relaxed into it, the better he had felt. He was distracted, that was the whole truth of it. It had been exactly what he had needed to come out of his sadness.
Then the next day had hit. Initially, he'd still been on something of a high, feeling like total shit but happy enough to make jokes, and flirt shamelessly with Maryanne. It was strange - the second Maryanne had even hinted at a no, his mood had immediately dipped to the depths. What the fuck was he doing? Maryanne had shared such vulnerable things with him, he knew her history, and he wasn't proud of himself for what could easily be construed as him taking advantage.
Then, there was Liberty. God, he loved her, but for everything he just couldn't see any possibly way that she could feel the same way. She was often all business, then there would be moments like through in France, or the way her eyes lit up when they were chatting in the evening, or the way she smiled when he let his hand linger on her arm. Yet again - another situation that could easily be considered him taking advantage of a younger woman in his employ.
So, he had almost told her no. There is nothing you can do, go back to work and forget it. When he'd admitted speaking with Dan, and that he was really struggling with Philip being older, all of those feelings and emotions had rushed back to the surface, and he just wanted her there. Like he had when he'd been sick in the medbay, he'd just wanted her to be there. It was selfish, really.
But she was coming over. Alexander had looked in on Philip, seeing a grown man fast asleep in a small single bed, surrounded by the nine year olds belongings, the nine year olds books, clothes, little shoes he'd never be able to squeeze his feet into. That alone told Alexander that this was temporary - the station hadn't brought Philip's belongings to him when he'd stayed over. It wasn't the most logical thing, but it made sense to him.
He'd placed a glass of water by his son's bed for whenever he woke, and then tried to make himself somewhat more presentable for Liberty coming over. He'd washed his face and brushed his teeth, and tied his hair back. He was not dressed as he would going into the office, but he was at least in a shirt, breeches and stockings, rather than a night-shirt. Then, a very quick clearing of clutter from the living room, so the carnage of the previous evening wasn't quite so in your face, and he was ready for her.