It was a beautiful, stereotypically cloudy November evening--  and Flynn felt lucky that he and a certain 3rd floor healer got off at the same time. It took some (by some, it means a lot) coaxing, but he and the lovely Chaz Lawrence  had managed to get Holling into The Leaky Cauldron for a drink. Or two. Or five. Or fifty. However much it would take to get the fellow healer more smashed than the box of cookies that Henry trampled over.

“You know, Holling, sometimes I think you’re too stressed out!” Flynn clapped him on the back cheerfully and ordered some sort of fruity, stereotypically feminine drink, complete with miniature umbrella. Although he acted full of energy, there were dark circles under his eyes; a sign of wear and tear from the stresses of the day. Working at St. Mungos took an incredible amount of energy—if Flynn made one mistake, he could easily destroy somebody’s life. Or just inconvenience them enough so that they hate him forever, and blame him for all future ailments.

The bartender brought Flynn his drink, which looked rather fizzy and was bright orange in color with a foamy top. He sipped it through a straw, pleased that it was sweet and tasted vaguely of mangos and pineapple. And—was that a hint of strawberry? Oh, he was in heaven. “You should really try one of these.” He looked from Chaz, to Holling, and back to Chaz. “It’s delicious. Come on, guys.” He let his bottom lip stick out in a pathetic little pout. “Pleeeeease?”

Arcturus had no idea why Flynn was doing this to him. He only allowed himself to be persuaded because he had nothing to do at home after work, and he was feeling a little socially starved lately. But he didn't like to drink much except during formal social occasions, and this was way out of his comfort zone. Unfortunately, since Flynn had successfully got him here as well as Chaz, he didn't want to be impolite and leave.

Flynn's clapping on his back jolted him out of his "how did I allow myself to be here" thought sequence. He looked at his colleague and raised his eyebrows at how energetic he was. How was it even possible? In general Arcturus always liked a quiet rest at home after a day's work; there was simply not enough time in their jobs ever to take a break even if they were given the chance to. Not that he was complaining, he liked his job.

Along with the brightly coloured cocktail, the bartender brought along a glass of oak-matured honey mead. It was the only alcoholic drink that he ever liked, everything else was either too bitter or strong for his taste. He brought it over to his side of the table as he watched Flynn take a sip of his drink, and then held both his hands up. "No thanks, Flynn...no matter how much you give me those puppy eyes. You know I'm immune to that."

Chaz grinned.  "Sourpuss," he accused Holling gently.  He reached out and took Flynn's drink from him before the other man could utter much of a protest.  He took a sip of the fruity drink and savored it.  He loved a simple, straightforward drink but for a fun night out on the town something like this would be perfect.  He could drink more of them and be knocked off his ass before he even knew he was drunk. 

"I'm so glad we did this," he told the table conversationally.  "I've been meaning to celebrate my first job."  He leaned back and straightened his legs out until his feet tangled with his companions' feet.  He pulled them back and sat back up straight, feeling better, looser.  "I didn't get paid, of course, but at least it gets me back in the game."

He took another deep pull on the delicious fruity drink and grinned at the fizzy sensation that eventually tingled its way down to his fingertips.  "Besides, you two stiffs work too hard.  So this was long overdue.  This is good by the way." 

He quirked an eyebrow at Flynn and his now empty table space.  "Aren't you going to get one for yourself?" he asked innocently, taking another sip.

“You aren’t immune to my charms; you know I’m a veela.” Half veela, really. And he didn’t even have veela charm. Still,  he felt like he need to say something that he thought was clever in return. He felt accomplished when Chaz was willing to try the drink, but that accomplished feeling was soon deflated as he realized that Chaz had no intention of returning it to it’s rightful owner.Flynn glared at the architect as if the other wizard had murdered a puppy.

“He stole my drink!” He said to Arcturus, mock-whining. He quickly recovered and ordered another drink, though this one was different—it was lime green, fizzy, with some pink cherries floating in it.  Flynn took a sip and was pleased with the sweet citrus flavor that left a smooth feeling in his throat, as if he had swallowed honey. “It’s okay, this one is better.” He stuck his tongue out at Chaz, but made no offer to let either one of the two men try his drink. He was going to protect it for dear life. “Guys.” He said, eyes shifting suspiciously. “I need to know everything you two know about squirrels."

"Last I checked, I wasn't gay, Flynn." Probably. He never really bothered with it; in fact, he found it particularly unnecessary to have an obsession with that sort of thing.

To prevent himself from making any undue remarks, Arcturus drank from his glass - a bit too deeply, but he didn't quite care. He watched in half-amusement at Chaz nicking Flynn's drink, and when Flynn mock-whined at him he just chuckled and drank again. The combination of the shenanigans between the two wizards, the warmth and comfort of the mead and the general atmosphere of the pub were pretty much loosening him up. Maybe it was the fatigue from his job too, but he didn't want to think about it.

So it was probably quite expected then, from his point of view, that when Flynn asked his question in complete seriousness, protecting his drink like it depended on his life, Arcturus gave him a half-bewildered, half-amused stare before it actually registered. Then he laughed - fairly short but quite loud, even for him.

"Squirrels? Friend, why don't you go out and join them in the trees to find out? I'm sure you'd fit right in." Arcturus gave Flynn a good-natured slap on the back. "If not, maybe a good workout. I don't remember the last time since I've seen you ever swing around on a tree branch, and you've done a good few crazy things I know of."

He was a bit put out that the green drink was better than the one he'd initially stolen.  The cherries he could see floating in the alcoholic liquid looked extremely delicious.  He reached out to try and snag a sip of that one but he was smacked away.  Flynn was protecting it stubbornly.  So Chaz leaned back and kicked Flynn's leg under the table, just hard enough to cause a sure, but impermanent flash of pain. 

"You don't need to be gay to be taken in by Veela charm," he told Holling.  "Besides, Flynn's charm, as powerful as it is, has absolutely nothing to do with his heritage.  He's just naturally like that."   It was a testament to their friendship that Chaz could act so petulantly over a fruity, un-shared drink but turn around and complement him so seriously without even thinking about it.

But at the mention of squirrels, Chaz forgot about charm and just groaned.  "Is this about that demon in your jungle of an apartment?  How many times have I told you?  You need stop letting that thing walk all over you.  Your a wizard, for Merlin's sake!  Stop letting a squirrel get the better of you."  He gave all of them a bad name but, in the end, it was hard not to love Flynn's flighty attitude.

He looked at Arcturus seriously. “I would never fit in with those demons.” He said darkly, “They destroy your plants, and steal my fruit and eat the food from my nut bowls. They are thieves! Thieves and vandals!”  Flynn took a sip of his drink, and although it was sweet and girly, it was stronger than others that he had consumed in the past. With his low tolerance for alcohol, it wouldn’t take him long to become intoxicated. He turned to look at Chaz and nodded pathetically.

“It is about that wretched squirrel. Mister Bloodeye Nutters.” He replied, “He’s crafty., Chaz! Mildred doesn’t care enough to catch him, and Henry is too afraid of him to catch him. And rightfully so! That squirrel is evil, evil I tell you!” He let out a huff and chugged down the drink, before choking on a cherry for a few seconds. He gave the two males a chagrined look. Flynn felt like he should have seen that coming.

Arcturus had absolutely no idea what Flynn was talking about. He wouldn't put it past his colleague to have a squirrel in his plant-filled home (considering Arcturus had had to borrow a couple of plants for his experimenting and hadn't quite enjoyed the experience), but he had no advice for Flynn.

"You could always...make a trap and disguise it with magic," he said conversationally. "Or you could have pest control deal with it. Or...you could take out your wand and hunt him down, make sure you've got some great incapacitating hexes at hand, and if all fails you could also use some of the charms we use to treat patients...would be fun."

He wasn't quite sure of what he was talking about. The mead was already getting to him and he felt fairly lightheaded, but whatever he just said made complete sense to him. As he watched Flynn cough up the errant wayward cherry, he took another sip. This drink seemed pretty strong tonight.

Chaz grinned wickedly as Flynn choked on the cherry from his drink.  He couldn't help but feel vindictive pleasure at that.  Next time, perhaps, he wouldn't flaunt his drink like that.  No good comes from showing off, he father used to tell him, it will always come back to bite you.  Chaz loved seeing that it was true for other people too.

"Don't encourage him," Chaz told Holling gently.  "He's just trying to get our attention.  It's really not as big of a deal to get it out as he likes to say it is.  I keep offering to bring Aphrodite over, she'd have him hunted down pretty quickly, but he's yet to agree to it."  Chaz shrugged.  "He's just being a drama queen about it."  His face and body language were smiling but dismissive.  He did it because he knew Flynn would take mock (and hilarious) offense to it. 

He took a sip of his drink and savored the sweetness.  He wasn't feeling tipsy yet but supposed it would happen so quickly he'd miss it completely.  Ah well, the whole point of this evening was to get unbelievably drunk anyhow.  Or at least that was his plan.  Flynn, he knew, would do the same and they'd manage Holling just fine between the two of them.

Flynn gasped in protest. “I am I supposed to know that your cat won’t hurt poor Henry?” He exclaimed, “Or ruin my plants? I’ve spent years growing them, I don’t want them to be destroyed!” He gave Arcturus a pathetic look, “I’ve already tried spells... He’s just clever. Too clever. I’m being outsmarted by a squirrel.” He pouted and took a sip of his drink, careful not to choke on any cherries this time. He swished his drink around and sighed, he supposed that using Aphrodite would be better than nothing. He was at his wit’s end with this situation, and he needed to have Mr. Bloodeye Nutters eradicated for good.

“For the record, I’m not a drama queen. I’m a drama king--” Flynn jumped slightly, “NO! Not King, Lord! I am Drama Lord!” Really, he wondered how his friends could put up with him at times. Hell, he wondered how Fauna could put up with his particular brand of crazy. Maybe it came off as cute and adorable to her, who knows? Either way, he wasn’t going to protest.  “You should bring Aphrodite over to my house this week. Make sure she doesn’t hurt Henry! I don’t mind if she goes after Mildred, Mildred can take care of herself.”

It was a definite, Arcturus thought to himself, that he was getting tipsy. He was strangely comfortable with it, although probably because he did trust the fellows he was with to not get him into anything stupid. Questioning it was, however, not a priority because even Flynn's behaviour was making him raise an eyebrow.

"Flynn...have you had one too many sips of that cocktail?" He looked down at the glass. "But if you're going to employ a cat, I might offer you the fine services of Rustle as well. He'll be more than delighted to pursue an annoying critter, I'm fairly sure."

He coughed a bit and drank again to ease his throat. It seemed like a good idea.

Chaz slapped the table with his open palm.  "Enough about that stupid squirrel!  We're supposed to be out for a night of fun and this is far from fun.  We can deal with vermin later."  He slammed back the last strains of the drink that was formerly  Flynn's and smacked his lips.  He leaned back, tipping his chair on to the rear legs.  He strained his neck to get a better view of the room.  He scanned the groups and the singles alike, looking for any potentials they might be able to spend a little bit of fun time with.

He looked back at his companions and smiled brightly.  "Come on, we're young and full of life!  Surely we can think of something better to do than mope around talking about a squirrel living in an apartment with too many plants.  What do you think?"