"Y'know, Houdini, you ever reckon that maybe I just like noodles?" Jonas asked cheerfully, holding the door open behind him for the younger man as the two Aurors entered the legal wing of Level Five.  "Besides, bought you lunch, didn't I?  You want to pay the next time, then you get to pick the restaurant."

Despite his vocal complaints, the red-haired Auror looked reasonably cheerful as he made his way down the corridor of law offices, keeping his leg straight to minimize any limp.  It had not been an easy week for anyone in Magical Law Enforcement.  Fox's resignation barely a week ago had truck all of them, and the incident on Sunday had left the Aurors on edge.  With the Wizarding Blood Alliance -- or at least Dugan Macduff -- declaring war on the Ministry, the ever-present tension on Level Two had grown so thick that one could cut it with a knife. 

Even with the rising pressure of Macduff's threatened attacks, there were still other investigations to keep moving.  Jonas had barely had a chance to catch his breath since the attempted assassination on Mulogo.  The aftermath had been a chaotic whirlwind of interviews, research, and paperwork that left him struggling to keep his feet underneath.  If the mess kept on for too much longer, he imagined that it might very well be the end of him.  He had already started to worry about his sanity even before each and every sleepless night had become occupied with nightmares of mountains and mountains of paperwork.

But ever since Monday, when Adon had officially been recalled from Hogwarts and returned to duty on Level Two, the nightmarish workload had seemed much more manageable.  It was truly incredible how much lighter the Runespoor casefile felt when Jonas hefted it under his arm.  If it meant keeping the other Auror actively  in the office, he would gladly swear off eating at noodle houses and condemn the hilariously still-running joke to the dregs of eternity.

He flashed his friend a crooked smile by way of apology as he paused alongside an open door, squinting at the nameplate.  It matched.  Jonas arched an eyebrow, glancing back at Adon, and then nodded to the open office.  Without waiting for a response to the non-verbal question, he raised his hand to knock and announce their presence.

"Ms -- "  He paused.  The surname was a mouthful.  "Pendrick-Talonen?" he tried, flashing her a quick smile as he stepped inside.  "I'm Jonas Trevelyan.  This is Auror Adon Eleor." He nodded to the Israeli wizard, his expression sobering slightly as he returned his attention to the lawyer.  "We're both on the Mulogo investigation.  This still a good time to talk?"

Though inking her frustration on parchment made her feel better, it wouldn't suffice at all. Forget the Egyptians, she could imagine Eleor the Elder's reaction, if she brought such a mouthy draft of a letter to him. She slashed through her words with sharp cutting strokes, before tossing the used parchment into the rubbish bin. Her mind ran through the chaos that had unfolded once Hyskos--rather, Kanika--was arrested, as she emptied her drawer for a fresh piece of parchment. First, there had been a few owls from the Italian Ministry, in crisp Italian detailing the assassin's various crimes, and wishing that the British Ministry would see the light, placing her in their custody.

And then there was the Egyptian Ministry, a sour expression crossed her face as she remembered that experience; the barrage of owls that had flooded her office had spilled out to the legal wing. Plus, it had wasted her time. Scourgifying owl droppings was not one of her professional duties. Stabbing her quill into the inkpot, she set out on a newer draft. One that utilize phrases like 'Charter of Rights' 'legal representation' 'custody appeals' and other cumbersome legal jargon that would explain everything, and nothing to them. Afterwards, she could run it to Head of the Near East division, asking him to infuse it with good manners.

Considering the number of people barging into her office, it was a good thing that her door was open. The knock had barely startled her, but she raised her hand, beckoning them to enter. The title made her pause, no one at the office called her Miss, unless they were hapless young interns.

She took a good look at them, vaguely puzzled. It was eclipsed by understanding once the red-head introduced himself, and his partner. Ah, wonderful. The men who had made her week hellish. "Better now than later, Auror Trevelyan." Her private space was small, with her desk taking up most of the floor space. The heavy oaken desk was covered with files, law tomes, and stacked piles of scolls. "Take a seat, gentlemen. Tell me, would you like the bad news first?" Her lips had thinned, giving her face a pinched look, while her quill rested against the inkpot.

Adon was all smiles as he entered Miss Penley. . . Miss . . . Petra's office. This ended by the time he'd crossed the threshold and taken in the witch's surly countenance. Adon got the particular feeling that her anger was directed at them. Adon shifted his shoulders to consciously shake the feeling, unable to understand why. They were handing her a high-profile case with a notorious suspect with heaps of evidence well beyond circumstantial. Eye-witness accounts. Documented evidence. Several charges. And she was what? 26? 30 at the very oldest--and that was being generous. Big cases like this didn't just waltz across beginning lawyers' desks. This was a complicated case. Yes. It was heated and political. Yes. That was what made it a lawyer's dream. Or should. If she wasn't ready for this or appreciative--

Innocent until proven guilty. Getting ahead of yourself, Eleor.  Adon filled his lungs slowly and released the tension with the breath. This deep breathing nonesense still had yet to make long-term changes in his moods. Adon was already beginning to feel as surly as the pale witch looked.

Leveling his gaze, his eyebrows lowered instinctively. " You mean there isn't any good news? Pity." he asked sardonically, settling himself easily in the chair, crimson-cloaked arms draped across the wooden arms of the guest chair.

Petra seemed determined to take charge the moment they entered. While Adon was not going to allow future meetings to be at Wagamama, he would make certain they didn't happen here. Level Two, if possible. But no. There wouldn't be another meeting like this.

"Let me first say, Petra, Jonas and I appreciate your assistance in this investigation--and we're here to help your portion of trial preparation in what ways we can." But that wouldn't include being berated like two schoolboys by an overly stern schoolteacher. "Now, what bad news can we help with, exactly?"

The red-haired Auror paused for the barest of instants in the doorway, keeping his expression pleasantly level.  It was far from the most friendly greeting, and next to him, his partner's smile immediately faded.  Jonas held the door open for the younger man, and then closed it behind him as he limped into the office, not bothering to ask permission before securing it with a click.

Apparently they were no longer on friendly ground.  He didn't need to glance at Adon to judge his opinion of the situation; even their scant months of working together had make the younger man a relatively easy read.  True to form, the other Auror returned verbal fire, laying claim to  one of the chairs in front of the lawyer's desk.

In a situation like this, Jonas was perfectly happy to step back and let his friend take the lead.  The Israeli was, in technicality and in practice, the lead investigator on the Runespoor case, and he was also obviously more familiar with the workings of the magical legal system.  Considering that it had been over ten years since he'd had anything to do with bringing a case before the Wizengamot, Jonas was more than happy to cede control of any official dealings to his partner.

He took the chair next to Adon, lowering himself carefully to sit.  A quick glance across the desk revealed mostly what he would expect: files, books, all relevant to legal practices.  Germane and to the point.  The lawyer herself looked young -- older than Lexus, but maybe a year or two shy of Adon.  Though he hadn't even begun to tackle the legal ramifications, Jonas already had a vague idea of the complexities that the investigation involved.  If IMC had deposited the case in this young witch's lap, then she either had to be particular about her work or Dreogan was far more sore at his brother and Jonas than either had guessed.

Adon had already launched into the conversation, very pointedly setting the tone by affirming that they were on a first name basis.  Stretching his bad leg out in front of him, Jonas settled back in the chair, resting the casefile against his knee as he nonchalantly turned his attention on the woman to gauge her reaction.

The lawyer kept silent, waiting till both Aurors were seated, though her eyebrow was raised at Eleor's sarcasm.

Annoyed easily, wasn't he? Good, but then, any flash of satisfaction gleaned started to ebb away. Goading her witnesses was an ugly tactic, partly fueled by her exasperation at the situation, and her incessant need to regain control over anything and everyone. Done, and there was no flooing back. The red-hea---Auror Trevelyan was much quieter, fading away into the background. Briefly, she wondered which one had a leg-up over the other, Eleor or Trevelyan?

Her name and signature could be easily found in the case file, but no, she hadn't--hadn't gone into those social niceties that would bring down the conversation to an informal level. Vaguely, his manner, at the moment, reminded her of Beauclerc, a condescending twat of wizard she had encountered in her second year of apprenticeship. Let him twat on then.

"And I, gentlemen, thank you for it," she replied, matter of fact. "Unless you have contacts in the Egyptian or Italian ministries, then there's nothing for you can do for this part." Crafting a legal, and persuasive argument to try her in Britain, would be up to various wings of the DoIMC. Turning to her desk, she sorted through the stack of parchment, pulling out one piece that listed certain hurdles that needed to be cleared.

"First order of business," she dug out a scoll, holding it out to red-haired Auror, "your report is missing the M.O.A form. You need it to explain the muggle transport you used as a weapon."Once that was done, she could strike it off her list. The second one was a bit trickier, she glanced at the seated wizards. "If this goes to trial soon, there some things I need to know." Her quill shuffled between the two Aurors, "At the time of the arrest, were either of you under report or had any OAFs filed?"

Time for the tough part.

"Are either of you involved involved in an illicit relationship with each other?" She wasn't joking, nor was it a laughing matter.

The Egyptian and the Italian Ministries -- Jonas filed away that bit of information.  There was no way that tracing the illicit Runespoor trail would be that easy, but Margaret Groust had had a point when she'd asked which governments had raised a ruckus about Hyskos.  It might be worth looking into any connections there, but he doubted that they were going to get so lucky twice in such a short period of time.

The lawyer was short and to the point; she didn't rise to Adon's bait.  Jonas pointedly restrained from glancing at his partner.  If anyone in Britain had connections with the Egyptian Ministry, it was likely the Eleor brothers.

Apparently the bad news was even more paperwork.  Jonas bit back a sigh, accepting the scroll without saying a word.  Arguing that the taxi cab hadn't technically been used as a weapon; he'd just happened to park it on top of her was not likely to get him very far.  If they were going to get into any sort of semantics debate, he'd rather leave that to Adon.

He'd been making something of an effort to keep his mouth shut, to avoid encouraging his friend or visibly closing ranks.  There was something to be said for picking one's battles, and he'd much rather let the lines be drawn before staking out his fortifications.  But there was no way to take her final question with the sincerity that was probably intended.  Without even thinking about it, Jonas burst out laughing.

"Bit of a trick for it to be either of us, innit?" he asked, exchanging a lopsided grin with Adon.  "Reckon it takes two for an illicit relationship.  No, we're not," he replied, clearing his throat.  Swallowing his smile was next to impossible, so he didn't even attempt it.  "Been a bit of a challenge, but somehow we've both been able to resist.  Dunno how I've managed, what with his large, dark brown eyes concealing the waters of his soul[1] and all."

The answer to her original question held a few more uncomfortable implications than the inquiry into their wizardry.  Jonas paused, again deliberately refraining from glancing at the man next to him.  "Not under report, no OAFs," he said, shaking his head.  He had half expected that this information was going to come up; with any luck, Adon would change the subject and they'd simply breeze over it.  "I signed back on with Level Two in the middle of February.  Haven't had anything out of the ordinary since then."

1.	One day, quoting the Witch Weekly article will grow old.  Unfrtunately for Adon, that day is not today.

All that pomp and intimidation for a definition. This witch was on one, today. "Ah. Footnotes," Adon said with a nod. He glanced sidelong with apparent amusement at his partner's rather dramatic sigh.  Adon was in good spirits--this was not only easy, this was amusing. In his world of underground market busts, assassination attempts, and near-death experiences, footnotes were hardy Bad News. "I can take more bad news if it only requires a couple of minutes to write out a couple of lines," he said easily. Trying to keep from grinning. "Don't worry. I'm a prolific writer; my grammar's immaculate."

And she charged on--there was a brief dismissal, a glib relation of her gratitude and she was on to what was, doubtless, the next item on some neat checklist, penned in tight, precise little letters. He watched her produce a piece of parchment and bit his lip; this was amazing. Yes--there it was. Adon glanced sidelong, delighted, at his partner, hoping he was getting a load of this. He'd been silent.

"Nah, no OAFs," Adon said. This answer was accomplished almost exclusively due to two factors: 1. the Near East Ministry Headquarters were much more lienient in their definition of "overt" He'd killed before, on the job in Jerusalem--and certainly had done so in the military--but it had been justifiable. Records attested to that much.

2. Adon had really only been at the British Ministry for less than a year.

Though perhaps one ought to consider more heavily 3. The fact that Adon, with a known temper, had worked with dedication to erradicate angry and violent reactions--particularly after failing the character test upon his initial application to the Jerusalem Aurors. Adon had been accepted years later with reservation by the Auror corps, who had been ameliorated only due to Adon's years of discipline and diligence in the military and the provision that he do, primarily, paperwork. Desk investigation. Writing. Which, as it had turned out, his pedantry had served him well on. Adon didn't tire of forms. He didn't tire of writing and rhetoric. Which was why moments like this brought out a sort of child-like impishness and glee. Rhetoric; writing; debate--winning--upon which hinged one's accuracy, knowledge, and carriage.

The second item on the list made Adon smile. 
"Are either of you involved involved in an illicit relationship with each other?"
"Bit of a trick for it to be either of us, innit?"

Semantic win! He glanced over cheerily to his partner, who was once more quoting the Witch Weekly article. If Jonas produced it on the spot for this witch, Jonas would learn what Bad News was, and it wasn't remedied with a footnote. 

"One of these days, we'll stop getting this question, Joan;" he turned his attention back to the lawyer. "And while I hate to be a pedant on these things," he tried to mettle his smirk, "there'd be nothing illicit in such a relationship, even if there were--provided it was reported to supervisors, with, of course the proper forms." He knew she was into that kind of thing. The woman probably had fantasies of a world in which every individual came attached with impeccable paperwork and lengthy, but accurate footnotes and definitions. Referencable. Readable. Predictable. "But no. We're not those kinds of wizards, you know," Adon said with a dismissive wave of his hand, once more glancing at Jonas and trying to keep the fit of laughter from overwhelming him--with surprising success.  While certainly the more jovial of the two, Jonas had shown more verbal restraint.  Adon gauged, for a moment, if this meant that he ought to do the same, or if he ought to take the lead.

After Jonas' concise answer regarding the OAFs--no--and a rather more leading comment which would open a can of worms, Adon deliberated, debated. Jonas had laid himself bare to a catalogue list of penetrating questions which, it seemed from this witch's demeanor, she would have no qualms executing, even on members of her own investigative team. So long as it would give her control.  If they were going to discuss any sensitive or difficult information, it would be done in a spirit of collaboration--not examination.

In a moment, the mirth, the joviality, and sarcasm were gone. He kept his expression open, shifted lightly to sit forward more. Earnest. "Petra--Miss Pendrik-Talonen--whichever you'd prefer--" he waited a moment to hear what her answer might be before shaking his head. "We've come to your office, not the courtroom. We're on the same investigative team: we're not witnesses, or suspects. And I'm sure you're not meaning to cross-examine us. I just want to make sure that we're all on the same page as far as that is concerned. We certainly won't write you out of our process and progress--and we expect the same. However ready you are to dismiss us from 'this part,'--whatever that means--" he muttered under his breath, "I imagine that there is a lot that we can do for each other." He considered. Bolder. "I know for a fact that there is." He raised his eyebrows as he waited for a response. He ticked through--in a checklist, that were it written out would probably use impeccable scrawl:

1. she clammed up. quoted protocol, legislation, management guidance, internal controls, or some criteria. bolstered authority for a trump card. lips in a thin white line and a prim little scowl.
2. she got angry. indignant. though she'd already tried intimidation. silent and cold.
3. she dismissed him flippantly. implying he was overreacting. trying to make him feel childish. sarcastic and undercutting.
4. she took it in stride. and they became a team. with a smile.
5. she surprised him.

He then considered his potential responses to each scenario. A smile began to seep through. He hoped it was 5. It sure as hell wasn't going to be 4. Though that, in and of itself, would be surprising.

Wonderful. Both Aurors had a bawdy sense of humor, but Petra sat unblinking while they guffawed, still waiting for their responses. It was no laughing matter. Cases fell apart in a wink of a snitch, if any notion of impropriety was raised. Their reaction told a different story. Obviously, they felt comfortable enough to toss such jokes between themselves. Bantering casually, since they thought the very notion was ridiculous. Still, after so many years on the job, nothing really surprised her. 

That blasted line seemed familiar. She stopped herself from scowling, when she recognized it. Damn, that Witch Weekly article. It brought the lawyer, out of her thoughts.

“I'm glad to know, this isn't the case,” she responded drily.

Both members seemed liked upstanding aurors, and for the moment, she was satisfied. Trevelyan's elevation to the position seemed strange, to the best of her knowledge, most aurors had to go through a long training period. No matter, she could look through his records much later.

 Then, Eleor spewed something about the spirit of cooperation, that would have her mentor sitting up, and taking notes about his technique.

“Miss, Auror Eleor.” They weren't friends yet.

A part of her wondered, if he thought that all this paperwork, this interview was unnecessary. For her, it was important, it built cases, and one mistake could tear it all down. Time to correct their perspective on that matter, “I'm going to level with you, this charges against Kanika pertaining to the Mulogo case is rock-solid.” She laid her parchment down on her desk, clasping her hands together, “Her defense will try to muck through the dirt. They'll claim impropriety on your parts, and what I did right now, is what a very good defense will do to you.  That's precisely what I hope to avoid.” No doubt, it was something the Ministry could do without too.

“Of course, that is just one case. Tying her to the runespoor smugglers is another matter.” Her lips pursed tightly, at the thought that Kanika would slip through the defense. Having something extra against her would score more points, but it was a slim chance, that they would find anything in time. “Gentlemen, I'm not averse to discussing strategy, and the situation further” It was a risk, discussing files from another Ministry. “Part of it lies in negotiating with the Egyptian Ministry to release case files of the Kanika Clan.” She tapped the desk with her fingers, “Their reply was a firm no.”

"Miss, Auror Eleor," she said primly.

"Miss," he repeated, expression as bland and hard as her own.  This was not, he was coming to realize, what he had wanted from this meeting at all.

“Her defense will try to muck through the dirt. They'll claim impropriety on your parts, and what I did right now, is what a very good defense will do to you.  That's precisely what I hope to avoid.”

"Mmm," Adon voiced his displeasure. "I'll be frank with you, Miss Pendrick-Talonen." That name was a mouthful. "I don't think you're at the point in trial preparation to be worrying about priming your witnesses. We're still laying the evidentiary framework. If we could discuss that openly without evalutations of our comportment and body positioning, I'd appreciate it. It will make things much more to the point." There was a bit of a wry smile. "I'd hate to waste your time." It was, perhaps, some arrogance on his part. But as lead investigator, victim, witness, and a link to both the Middle East and the British, Adon supposed any time this woman could get with him was golden. And, considering that Jonas had done much of the legwork in interviews, piecing together evidence that Adon was only now learning about made him the golden contact for information and prosecutive angles.

Even if they were hitting a wall with Egypt.

"Well, yes." Adon said with a sigh. "Even I've come across that, too. Adnan Musallam--my former partner, from when I was at the Middle Eastern Auror Headquarters in Jerusalem--" he looked at her, expecting her to make some note of this, "is now the Auror Head. We've talked a bit on the matter, and while he's maintained that he's happy to cooperate. . ." he looked at Petra tentatively, "he isn't exactly wanting his cases and progress on the Kanikas to go to trial in Britain. And I don't blame him.  Though at present, he does face the problem that all the known culprits--we've not yet gone past circumstantial with Azorma--are dead. Makes a trial a bit. . . untimely." He compressed his lips, thinking.

"It seems, without the Kanika clan files, this trial cannot be about the Runespoor trade anyhow. We do not have strong enough evidence for that." He looked to Jonas for confirmation on that. Eyes still on Jonas as he spoke, he tried to read the man's facial expression--to see if he needed to stop.  "Taking it to trial would only jeopardize the on-going investigation. We need to steer clear of Runespoor discussion." However strong, the last statement was, for Jonas, an unspoken question.

Jonas stayed silent as Adon smoothly took control of the conversation and the lawyer let his comment slide.  If she didn't want to raise it as an issue, he was perfectly happy not to get into it; with any luck, Adon would be the one who testified at the trial and it wouldn't become a problem there, either.  For now, he was content to let the other two banter back and forth, feeling each other out as they discussed the best way to approach the case.

The answer was fairly obvious.  Egypt, as they knew, wouldn't cooperate; for all of Adon's ties, he doubted that Jerusalem would either, not for something as low-level as this.  Convincing another Ministry to support their prosecution would take serious political capital, the sort that none of them could afford to spend recklessly.

Even though they hadn't yet discussed it, it seemed as though Adon had already reached the same conclusion.  "Taking it to trial would only jeopardize the on-going investigation. We need to steer clear of Runespoor discussion."

It took effort to keep his expression carefully schooled as he met his partner's gaze.  Not being able to include all of the proper charges, having to stay away from the Runespoor angle when logic dictated that Kanika had to have been involved to some degree, was endlessly frustrating.  But both he and Adon -- and, he presumed, Miss Pendrick-Talonen -- knew what the stakes were.  If they moved too soon, they'd lose all momentum. 

For all she had done, Kanika had never been part of the Runespoor endgame.  They had their sights set even harder.

Jonas raised his eyebrows, mulling over his partner's words for a moment, and then gave the younger man a slight nod..  "Yeah, I reckon that makes the most sense," he agreed easily, crossing his arms against his chest.  "If we can get her solidly without delving into that mess, we'll save ourselves a proper headache in the long run."  And not only the headache of attempting to convict Kanika on less than solid evidence -- with Vedir Prideaux and the mysterious Declan Montgomery still on their radar, they didn't need to spook the Runespoor smugglers unneccessarily.  As matters stood, it would still be interesting to see who was drawn out of the woodwork by Kanika's trial.