Sometime between 12:00 and 1:00 PM.
A Restaurant in Diagon Alley

Lunchtime was one of his favorite times of day; it was a lovely respite from work. Not that Flynn disliked his job—he loved it. It loved every part of it, from the difficult patients to patient coworkers. He felt like he was lucky to have such an easy, fun life, and he acknowledged that many people were not as fortunate as he was. Though sometimes Flynn grew out some facial hair, today he decided to go with the clean shaven look.

“Hey, Vivienne, love.” He said, stroking his chin as he sat down at a table. It was always nice to go out for lunch, and Diagon Alley did not have any shortage of good restaurants. “Do you think I should grow out my manly facial hair again?” He knew that going clean shaven tended to make him look younger and childish, but growing facial hair made him feel more mature and macho. He wasn’t sure quite what the ladies liked, but he had luck with the ladies either way. “What do you think the ladies would like? I know Henry prefers it when I don’t have facial hair, but Mildred likes to scratch her head with my face.”

Henry and Mildred were his little babies—Henry was a rather ugly, rat-like tiny dog, and Mildred was a rather sassy cat that seemed to loathe Flynn with every fiber of her being. Mildred probably wouldn’t have anything to do with Flynn, if it weren’t for all the pampering the feline received from him. Both animals were female, though Flynn felt like the dog was more of a Henry than a Henrietta.

He glanced down at the menu, not sure what he wanted. Though, he would probably order whatever the lunch special was, like he did whenever he went out to eat.

Vivienne had been waiting for the better part of a quarter of an hour when Healer Hughes finally made his appearance at the restaurant, in what was a typically good mood. Her grey eyes rose from the menu and she crossed her legs, smiling up at him as he dropped into the chair across.

The fourth floor had its fair share of pleasant staff: most of them had to be. They needed a great deal of patience... not to mention an excellent bedside manner. Flynn, however, was  more than just pleasant-- he was entertaining. The two of them were often called in to deal with the younger and more sensitive patients-- after working on several cases together, they had become fast friends.

"Non, I think people like you better without the hair," though when she said people she obviously meant patients. Flynn's habit of diving headfirst into conversations was expected but the subject matter was not what anyone would call predictable. Vivienne laughed at the image of Mildred nuzzling up against his scruff.

"But if you're asking for what's attractive, I can't say." Her grey gaze fell back to the menu and her hand reached forward to take up her wine glass: "It depends on the kind of ladies you're looking for this time, non?"

"Probably easier to please Henry than it is to please Mildred," she added with a smile to herself: "Cats are such fickle things." As long as he kept it off their floor, Viv thought her colleague's flirtation were fabulously diverting.

Yup. He definitely wanted the special. Flynn didn’t even know what the hell it was, and that was part of the reason he wanted it. Perhaps it was for the mystery, or maybe it was because he was too damned lazy to make a decision.

Flynn set the menu down and towards the side of the table so that the waiter or waitress could get the hint that he was ready to order. ”Non.” Ah, he always forgot that his coworker was French, and therefore had the accent. When Vivienne spoke, Flynn simply could not help but smile to himself. The accent wasn’t offensive in any way, but it always took him by surprise at the beginning of conversations, though after talking to her for an extended period of time, it became unnoticeable.

“Ah, Viv, you’re probably right. I don’t want to scare those adorable children by being too hirsute. They’ll think I’m a werewolf. Or a yeti.” He sighed dramatically, as if not being able to grow facial hair for the sake of the children was the biggest sacrifice he had to make. In all honesty, it probably was. Although Flynn had never grown up in a family that was considered to be well-off, he always lived comfortably. His past was relatively calm, and he was leading a very happy life. Most of his problems were minor, though he loved to make them out to be bigger than they really were for the fun of it.

“Mademoiselle Viv, what do you think looks attractive on me?” Flynn wiggled his eyebrows in what he thought was an attractive manner, but it really just looked goofy. “Should I go with the rugged, troubled look—or the sweet, innocent look?”   

The duck seemed like a good idea. One could never go wrong with that; and she would need the protein, for the night shift ahead of her. Vivienne sighed softly as she glanced back up from her menu to give her colleague an amused expression. "Non, these are not good times to be mistaken for a werewolf, I agree."

All that work she had been going through to brew sedatives for the Lycans... naturellement, she had nothing against them, but they were in an unfortunate situation. Both physiologically and socially.

Any thoughts she had that might have lead her down the path of political contemplation evaporated when Flynn addressed her (mockingly, maybe) and wiggled his funny little eyebrows in a way that made the witch laugh. What a pleasant clown he was. It was no wonder their patients left with such happy smiles; not all charms were magic.

"What do I think, hmm..." Vivienne trailed off as she lowered her menu, considering the wizard with a perfectly unserious and narrow gaze. "Sweet. Oui, go with with sweet and innocent. It might be a lie but better a nice lie than a horrible truth!" she winked impishly and then turned her head as a tall, gangly waiter appeared by their table.

"The duck salad," she told him in a genial voice: "And my usual wine, s'il vous plait." Viv flashed the man a sweet smile before glancing at Flynn expectingly. He would have the special, she suspected, as he frequently did. Maybe. She decided to make a bet with herself.

“I’d like to get…” Flynn opened up the menu, as if he needed some sort of reminder, “I would like the special, dear.” He winked at the waiter, and handed him the menu. Afterwards, he focused his attention back on his coworker. It was nice to be able to get some socialization in. There was not exactly a lot of free time at work, and there was always something to do. On the rare occasion that he did have free time, he spent it getting to know his patients. As a result, Flynn always seemed to develop special relationships with them. He even visited those on other floors, just to see how they were doing.

He let out a small groan when she mentioned that he should go for sweet and innocent. He simply wanted some sort of excuse to grow out facial hair. “You don’t think I’m sweet and innocent? Ouch.” Flynn dramatically put his hand to his heart. “For shame, Viv. I thought you knew me better than that! Why else would my lady patients undress me with their eyes?” Of course, this was entirely untrue. Flynn was a cutie, but there was no way that many patients went as far as to check him out. After all, they were often too sick or too tired to flirt.

Suddenly, his light brown eyes narrowed deviously, and a smile crept upon his face. “Have you found a nice bloke to get off with yet?” Flynn knew that was an incredibly personal question, but he was one who would only ask questions if he was prepared to answer those same ones about himself. “A lovely lady like you has got to have someone.” Even if it was a short term friends-with-benefits deal, or a serious relationship, Flynn wanted to know.

No, he had convinced himself that he needed to know. First of all, it would give him something to tease her about, and secondly, he was rather nosy and curious. In the event that she was dating someone, he didn’t want to be too overly flirtatious with her.

Another bet won against herself. Flynn was worse than her; he never had a favourite dish! Vivienne smiled to herself as the waiter left the table and then looked across at her colleague, diverted by his dramatics. Not that the witches who came on to their floor disliked him... patients, though not instantly charmed by Flynn, eventually gave in to his easy manners and charisma.

An evil, mischievous expression grew on his face and she might have guessed the question that followed. “Have you found a nice bloke to get off with yet?” he asked. “A lovely lady like you has got to have someone.”

Viv's smile widened into a grin and she reached out, hand caressing the curve of her wine glass while she considered the wizard. Nobody at the hospital knew about Eddie. They suspected, maybe, that she was dating someone. And Greenburg possibly guessed but he was professional, she knew. The witch took a sip of her drink before answering.

"Oui, you're right. I am too lovely not to have someone." Vivienne winked at her friend. "But you don't know him. He has... nice eyes. Green." It felt strange to say that out loud to a person who wasn't her auror! Flynn was almost exactly the predatory, London wolf that she had suspected Eddie of being when they first dated.

She crossed her legs and sighed a soft, feminine sigh. "It isn't very serious," Viv added in a tone that contradicted the fact. It was serious by her standards; she rarely dated anyone longer than a month.

“Oooh, green eyes. He must be quite the looker!”  Flynn began to wiggle in his chair a little, barely able to contain his excitement. Really, he was almost like a child, or some sort of overexcited dog. He was evidently more wound up and animated about the idea of Vivienne dating than any average person would. He was happy for her, and was, at the same time, extremely curious as to exactly who this mysterious, green-eyed fellow was.  He didn’t care if he didn’t know who this guy was—he wanted to know all about him.

Chances were, Flynn would tease Vivienne no matter who she chose to date. It was just a part of his personality. She could be in love with the most winsome, kind, lovely bloke in the world, and he would tease her about it. He would even tease married couples who had been together for fifty years—It was something that came unnatural. In fact, not teasing would feel very unnatural and uncomfortable for the healer.

  “And not serious? Why would you even mention that, unless it was serious?”  He didn’t really mean what he said; Flynn’s words were purely joking, and everything in his tone and expression conveyed that clearly.  “You must fancy him. Tell me more about this green-eyed charmer.”