His lifts both hands, mouth parted slightly with concern, brow still thoroughly furrowed. "To be clear; we're talking about merely lettin' a lass know you've interest in her, aye?" Because of all things to do to a woman, that was perhaps one of the most harmless in his mind.

Jack doesn't wait for an answer. "Firo, lad." He's nearly parental in his tone, now, though it's not entirely intentional on his part. Chalk it up to being a captain to a crew for years and having to lecture more than his fair share of grouchy, gruff, opinionated sailors.

"I don't know who's put that in your head, mate, or what manner of man has given you that impression, but that's nonsense. Bein' interested in someone and letting them know it, whether that'd be verbally or otherwise, isn't treating them like anything -- much less poorly or wrongfully, savvy?" Now navigating further past that, beyond the initial stages? Jack wasn't the best at it, if the collection of slaps to his face he'd acquired over the years were any indication.

"An' what about the lass herself?" Because it seemed like Firo was skipping over an important piece to the puzzle. "Would she be treatin' you poorly if she showed interest in you?"