From the long list of people Rosier owed an apology to, (which included the Minister of Magic, the entire Level Two and Tamis Raynor herself) he sort of dreaded this one the most. Not because Dolly St. James was particularly scary, but because he felt he somehow wronged her the most and admitting that to himself was very difficult. He promised to attend her birthday party (and probably many other events which he forgot about or never even bothered to acknowledge), but never showed up and never even had the decency to apologize. On top of all that he just disappeared from England, vanished for over a month. He wasn't sure if she was still angry at him or if she decided to forget him - maybe she even wrote him a letter while he was in Morocco, but he will never know this because he burned all of his mail.

However, knowing Dolly, he was certain she probably moved on, but that didn't mean he should continue ignoring her while living under his rock. The girl deserved an apology. So, after a stressful day in his new office and with his new title and after a rather life-draining press conference, instead of going straight home, Rosier took a turn down the trendier parts of London. As any grumpy, old Londoner Rosier hated crossing the river, but even though Dolly lived in Southwark, he had to admit her flat had a very nice view. He wasn't even sure if she would be home now, but that thought occurred to him when he was already climbing up the apartment staircase. He also realized he did not bring any presents for her or anything at all...he hardly had time for souvenirs in Morocco, but he still felt a bit stupid.

But this shouldn't be too difficult - if he survived apologizing to the Minister, he was sure he could survive this. Also on top of all this, he had other things to think about - that inter-departmental meeting was looming over him and so was the planning of the next stage in the Corpus Inversus case. Surely with such troubles ahead, Rosier could at least attempt to sort out his messy private life. At least he finally stopped drinking and this was something he secretly congratulated himself on every day.

He stared at her door for one long second before knocking in a loud and obnoxious manner.

Dolly was entertaining a very loud and lovely man by the name of Falco Weatherwax, they'd met a few weeks before at a signing and he'd sort of become a bit of a hanger on who was rather amusing for his part even if he wasn't really her type at all. He'd promised her a night to remember in wizarding London and as a free agent Dolly didn't see any reason not to accept. Did she miss Cam? Probably, a little bit, of course not enough to ever stay home and bury her head in the sand. She'd been doing some form of that since she was sixteen with Dominik; maybe not in a way anyone else could understand or see but she had. Somehow in being so promiscuous she had been trying to protect her heart...and get a rise out of the old boy at the same time. Even when she'd decided to do a relationship proper with Cam it had been a sort of defense against feeling bound to Dominik while she was shagging that big nosed reporter.

Then Cam had dropped off the face of the Earth without so much as a how'dya do. Dolly wasn't dwelling on it exactly but she'd have been lying through her teeth if she said she wasn't hacked off a bit. It was then with much surprise she found herself face to face with the man on her doorstep as she and Falco were about to leave. Her blue eyes blinked once, then twice, the distant sound of Falco's gruff accent echoing in her skull Who's this then? For a moment she said nothing simply looked at Rosier, lips slightly parted. Of course there was no real reason for her to be awkward, men showing up on her doorstep uninvited was not exactly a new thing. Finally glancing at the wild hair'd man beside her, tone bemused, "Darling it's terribly bad form to not know the former Head of the DoMLE; he was the King of Level Two before he went barmy and ran off to the wilds of the Arctic or something," though she was speaking to her supposed companion of the evening, beyond the first glance her eyes stayed focused on Rosier.

She was trying to detect any sort of subtle difference to the man, but there he stood looking the same as he ever did; a sort of brooding handsome with a heavy layer of too-much-on-his-mind masking features that could be terribly charming when he smiled. "Get tired of being an Adventurer Cam"? It was with great distraction that she finally pulled her eyes away from his, turning to look at her companion, "Why do you head to the party without me; I'll catch up. Apparently I have some unexpected business to attend to," when Falco started to protest she held up her hand, "I insist, I don't want to spoil your night. I'll be along as soon as we're done here," her look was pointed as she coolly placed a kiss on his cheek and shoved him out the door while ushering her former so-called boyfriend into her common room, slipping off her jacket and heading straight for the bar, "You've shite timing mate.If you've come to collect any wayward clothing I already sent it to your flat. Well, the things I didn't burn. I suppose I should offer you a drink"?

Probably two seconds after he knocked on the door, Rosier found himself literally face-to-face with some strange, scruffy-looking man. His eyebrows flew up. This was typical Dolly though, he wouldn't be surprised she planned out this little show, but he knew that wasn't possible. Even though he expected this sort of thing, in reality it was a little upsetting. Not that Cameron was a jealous sort, he was just simply caught off-guard. At least she could have found someone better looking. This bloke's hair resembled a nest!

Rosier made no comment as Dolly attempted to introduce him in her usual ridiculous fashion. With his eyebrows still slightly raised, he stared back at her. Unlike his 'apology' to Raynor, which consisted only of a few seconds of serious glares, Rosier somehow doubted Dolly would accept such simplicity. He would probably need to install himself beneath her balcony and sing serenades for her to somewhat forgive him. Even when she finally addressed him, he still said nothing. He could have said something witty, but he didn't see the point now. Was he tired of being an adventurer? He wasn't sure - the right answer was probably both yes and no. He had to admit it was slightly amusing to watch Dolly trying to get rid of her companion and even though Rosier tried very hard not to smirk, he failed terribly. He knew he could be terribly immature sometimes, but that hardly mattered in situations like this one.

"He seemed like a nice bloke, Dolly. Why did you have to get rid of him?" he finally spoke, now actually smiling a bit. He followed the girl through her flat and even though she seemed annoyed, he realized how much he missed some things - her perfume, her figure, the way she moved...He knew he was a fool for leaving everything behind the way he did, but he was also bad at apologizing - he couldn't explain it to her, and even if he could, she would probably not understand or accept.

"I was wondering about my favorite trousers - I hope they survived your inquisition." Somehow he doubted that. "Some tea would be nice, thank you," he said politely, still looking at her with a hint of a smile. Explaining to people that he stopped drinking alcohol was getting ridiculous, so he simply asked for tea instead. However, even that caused people to give him strange looks.

If Dolly had ever been in love with Cam this all would have been so much worse. It was a strange paradox really, that somehow it was easier to forgive someone for leaving her when her heart hadn't been so invested; yet when she truly loved with all of herself she'd punish the neglectful party  to the end of time (or until she realized she was too tired to be angry anymore and just let it all go). She hadn't been in love with Cam though, she had cared about him a good deal and she was slightly miffed he left without so much as a goodbye... but a part of her also understood the need to get away. He had been dealt a fairly crushing blow when Brown had taken over his job with the DMLE. He'd probably needed to lick his wounds, that didn't explain why he couldn't send a bloody owl to a girl but there was no point in fighting about it. What was done was done.

She did give him a quizzical look at the request for tea, "Don't tell me you're living the sober life now Cam. One of your few redeeming qualities was that never ending supply of well aged Scotch," she was teasing of course, blue eyes curious as she scanned his face before leading him toward the kitchen. "Your favorite trousers were wrecked before you ever left the country. I realize you're ancient, but don't you remember? Drunk Cam in addition to a finely crafter cigar, and three days of little sleep - almost burnt down my apartment when you dozed off in a particularly expensive armchair. You're quite lucky I am so brilliant with my wand and a fast thinker," she fluttered her eyelashes at him as she filled the kettle with water before using the tip of her wand to slowly heat it.

She was ignoring his dig about Falco, mostly to frustrate him but also because there wasn't much to tell. He wasn't a serious thing. Of course Cameron hadn't started out as a serious thing either, and that had ended... well differently. Turning to look at him, her hip resting against the kitchen counter, slender eyebrow arched, her words were very careful, "I know how rubbish you are at I'm sorry's but I see no gifts, no peace offerings of pretty exotic jewels, or spices. There is no giant teddy bear proclaiming your undying love to me. This is very strange, unless it means the wide and great Rosier is actually going to say those two little magic words he seems to choke on the thought of," she slipped easily back into teasing him, though he was by no means fully forgiven she wasn't about to hex him or hurl a plate at his head, unless, you know, he said something absolutely ignorant.

"Yes, this is one of the reasons why I stopped drinking," he replied casually as she described in unnecessary detail how he burnt his trousers. No, he did not remember. "I may be ancient, as you keep on reminding me, but memory loss is something I'm not too comfortable with, even at my age." Besides, he felt a lot better without drinking himself to sleep every night and then wishing for a quick death in the morning. People like Dolly and his cousin Rascal acted so shocked about his new-found sobriety, but it was only because they were not well acquainted with Cameron's better and responsible side. He was pleased to see she would make tea for him though.

He sighed. He knew this was coming. How could he explain to a woman like Dolly St. James that he wasn't in Morocco for banter and general touristing? What would she think of him if she knew he spent a small fortune to get himself out of dangerous situations and to acquire information only to end up stranded with nothing, at one point even resorted to drinking water from a fountain? Rosier did not have time for pretty jewels and other souvenirs for his dear Dolly, but he could not exactly put that into words. But he could try and be nice, she deserved that much. He did not apologize to the Minister in a traditional sense, but they managed to work out their differences. His relationship with Raynor was such that he would never say sorry to her, just because he knew she would never say it to him - again, they had a strange mutual understanding. But Dolly was not his co-worker.

"But I am sorry, Dolly," he said seriously, despite the fact that she was teasing him. He did mean it, even though he was sorry for leaving her and missing her birthday, not necessarily for disappearing to Africa for a month without telling anyone. Some things just had to be done, but at least he was mature enough to apologize this time. He gave her a steely, unyielding sort of look for a second, but then shrugged and found his way to a sofa. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"   

Dolly's face softened a bit, as he indicated his drunken pants ruining was part of the reason he'd put a stop on the drinking. She could understand really, after she'd ended up in the hospital the previous March she'd quit too for a good long while. Of course now she was back to doing all things in moderation. She didn't bring this fact up of course, simply set about fixing his tea. She could be rather domestic when she wanted to be - she just didn't want to often or ever lest someone get ideas about making a wife out of her. Dolly was not meant for the Wife-y life, which was a thought she kept coming back to again and again lately.

When he actually apologized Dolly was caught rather off guard. The never ending chatter ceased and she simply started at him. Well that was new. Cameron Rosier did not apologize, for anything, ever. It's how he'd managed to chalk up all those ex-wives. she was not quite sure how to process this action as it seemed very sincere. She picked up and set down the kettle twice, her mouth opening and closing like a fish on the riverbank trying to catch it's breath. He'd stopped her witty banter up short and now she wasn't exactly sure what to do with him. She begrudgingly felt her fondness for him grow ever so slightly, a thaw coming to the frosty part of her heart.

When the tea was finally ready she packed it to him, curling up on the sofa next to him as she slipped off her shoes and seemed set to settle in for the night; Falco already forgotten. "I'd demand you tell me what you got up to in the wilds of Africa, but I have a feeling I'd rather not know and it's probably classified," she leaned against him a little, bracing her arm against his shoulder, resting her chin in her hand. Maybe if she looked at him long enough she'd get some sense of who this new person was, sitting in her living room. He looked like Cam, he sounded like him, and even had that signature Cam-smell (sans the alcohol), but she didn't feel as though she knew him the way she'd known her Cam (not that he'd ever been hers, but the version of him she'd had before), "I suppose you could start by listening all the millions of ways you've missed me",