Laney’s hold on the leash was easy, almost too loose. She let the dog wander in front of them, explore, tug them along a bit without calling all of the shots. It was a friendly compromise; they got along well. It was easy when the dog and his owner both had the same sweet temperament.

Marko’s personality had been the least of the surprises. Laney had expected to love him, even if they were vying for the same sofa real estate. It had been all of the boxes, the dog playground in Frank’s flat that had shocked her when she’d Apparated back to his place for the first time in over a month. In their half-a-day reunion, Frank had failed to mention that he had sold his place and bought a new one outside of the city.

But Hufflepuffs weren’t the only useful hands. After the shock— and a bit of friendly poking, because London seemed to be too fast for the ripe old direwolf— she had helped him pack. If Laney’s ideas of necessities were a bit different from Frank’s… if she thought masks and belts and ties belonged with aftershave, toothpaste, and cigarettes in an overnight bag… or that books counted as furniture… she was sure Frank would appreciate the effort and be enlightened when he unpacked (not that they hadn’t discussed it at length already, or that he hadn’t already repacked).

The dog gave another excited tug they came upon the front garden. Laney paused for a minute, forcing him to calm down, but his tail wagged eagerly even as they idled and she appraised the house. “So this is it?” She asked, turning a cheek a bit to catch Frank’s eyes. Her smiled widened. “Nice,” she said, and there was plenty of approval in the single syllable. She hooked a finger of free hand through one his belt loops and tugged him forward as the dog lead the way.

When they reached the front door, Laney handed the leash over to Frank and leaned into him, fishing in his pocket as she often did for a box of cigarettes. But she had no time to even shake one out, because the realtor was there, all of the sudden. She gave them a warm smile, which Laney returned a little more Laney-ishly, but the sparkle of confusion in her eyes was not missed by the Seeker, who fixed the box and put it back in Frank’s pocket unabashedly. The smoke break could wait until after the ribbon cutting.

Frank had endured the teasing from Laney for not warning her about his move. In all honesty, he didn’t know how to bring it up. There was never a good segue into it, like ‘hey, so, I’m moving, but come over anyway.’ And then he forgot about it, amidst everything else. So... it wasn’t until after the game and she came over that she found out. At least he had a good portion of the apartment boxed up and ready to go.

He appreciated her help with packing (and the numerous breaks they took to continue their make up). The bed was one of the last things he packed, waiting until the morning of the move (and after he got out of the Ministry for his monthly check up) to pack it all up. They had shared an unhealthy breakfast from one of his favorite places around the corner from his apartment building while taking Marko out on a walk. It had been the right amount of fuel to kick start their day.

Once they apparated to the small wizarding town, it was just a matter of strolling through it to get to the small road to his soon to be home. Frank had pointed out little things along the way; there was a wonderful butcher shop, which was one selling point for the steak enthusiast. The bakery made better pastries than bread, but either way, it was still something. Frank even pointed out the grocery store, where they could pick up odds and ends for things in between.

There were a few families that lived in the town that didn’t own the shops, and there were neighborhood kids that ran amuck. It was like the cheaper Godric’s Hollow, in Frank’s opinion. Or the less populated Hogsmeade. He had looked at both places, as well as a couple others, but had narrowed it down. Obviously. When they came to the edge of his property, Frank eagerly pointed it out. “This road leads up to the house. It’s not very far along it... but it gives some privacy.”

They walked over a small hill, through a couple trees, and entered upon the front garden. Frank beamed before looking to Laney, watching her face for a moment. He nodded at her question. It wasn’t large, but the property was fantastic. Plus the back garden was well fenced in for the pup. It wasn’t as if he needed a large space, after all. “I bet you could show me a few of your Quidditch moves, even.” Private lessons or something like that.

He let out a surprised grunt but stepped forward at her insistence, smirking as he followed in the train to the front door. There was even a left over portkey near the end of the property; all he had to do was reregister it in his name, and people could easily get to his place through any magical means imaginable.

Frank wrapped an arm around her lightly, smirking as she searched through his pockets. He opened his mouth to say something, but then suddenly they weren’t alone. Blinking as he took in the woman, he felt his heart sink. “Ah... was... Jeff not available?” Though the woman had been rather helpful when he’d tortured her with Akiva, she was not his original realtor. She looked about as shocked to see him, though. Or perhaps it was the lack of fake family.

His cheeks flushed briefly before he bit his lower lip. “Oh! Well... Is your wife at work today, Mr. Pratt?” He swallowed and tried to think, but his brain was mush. “Uh...” He laughed and looked to Laney. He would’ve warned her if he had realized who was going to be giving him the key. “Akiva is busy with Gabe, yes.” Frank took the leash from Laney and glanced to the front door as the woman focused on unlocking it. She gave Laney a questioning gaze, a question wrapped up in her eyes. “Is this... your sister?” This was going to end well.

Privacy. Laney liked that word. She also liked being in public, in huge crowds, in the heart of the action. If privacy meant they could do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted without people walking in on them, neighbors complaining, or old ladies throwing them looks, she thought she could quickly get used to the new apparating trek out to Frank’s hideaway. More space was always a good thing.

The house definitely seemed to suit him from the outside, and there was enough land to mess around on a broom. “Oh, I’ll show you moves,” she promised. “I’ll get you up there, too.” She looked toward the clouds.

She had to take full advantage of his offer, after all.

Laney didn’t rush to pull away from Frank, thoroughly unaware of what the look in the woman’s eyes meant— only that it was there, and a little humorous. But Frank looked caught off guard. She knew he was more shy about touching in public than she, but it had been harmless, not tied-to-the-balcony-trousers-dropped-babies-watching bad. She almost rolled her eyes, lovingly, as she turned a bit toward the woman— who was possibly modest. She threw her a nod, to reassure her of her own friendly intentions, and gave her her full attention as she waited for the woman to say something realtor-y and hand over the keys.

But it was only a moment. Frank’s voice gave away his discomfort, and Laney quickly turned back to him to see that his face matched it. This was more than being caught with a pickpocket girlfriend exploring one’s pockets.

Laney raised a brow. Was there a past there?

“Your—” Laney began to repeat, with a hint of breathless disbelief, the woman’s words. She quickly double-taked, looking from one to the other and back again. Her brows had retreated to her fringe, they were so animatedly raised. Her eyes settled on Frank. She thought his was a laugh of desperation.

“Akiva is busy with Gabe, yes.”

If she hadn’t just been needlessly reassured of Frank’s relationship with Akiva, she would have been floored. The things that bubbled up and then died down after their last fight might have roared their heads with the force of every I knew it in history. Instead Laney stood there for a moment, opened her mouth, closed it again, opened it and looked at the realtor. His sister.

This was a ploy. She could recognize the harmlessness in Frank’s laugh under the nervous edge. There was an understanding that passed between them as she handed off the leash. “I’m the nanny,” she corrected, adopting a scarily easy expression, one that didn’t betray a hint of a lie. “I came to get the extra set of keys.”

If Frank hadn’t been planning to give them to her, there was no way he was going to talk himself out of it now. Ten points for the Seeker.

Her smile grew bright and she extended an enthusiastic hand now that it was free of the leash. “Laney. Do you want a smoke?” She asked, gesturing over her shoulder to Frank’s pocket. Or trousers in general. She looked back with a playful expression. “He got me hooked.”

Frank raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. “I’ll watch from the garden, but thank you for the offer.” He had seen a few of her moves; they were daunting to consider while on two feet, let alone up in the air. Not to mention what had happened recently to her... old friend. The one she had confessed to screwing before like it was nothing. And perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps the only thing that had rubbed him wrong about it was knowing about it and her having some holier than thou attitude about the Akiva thing.

Which had been nothing. And now they were... past that. They had talked about it long enough the night she came over after the game to the point that Frank felt it was done and over with. It was in the past, there to be poked and prodded but not to be thrown back at each other in anger. Hopefully.

Of course the realtor didn’t help anything. Frank inwardly groaned and grimaced a little, feeling a little green around the gills as he looked between the two, having pulled back from Laney very slightly. His mouth opened to correct her, a suddenly bashful laugh escaping as he tried to piece it all together in his mind. Now was not the time to tell the poor realtor he’d been screwing around the entire time before. He hoped his actual realtor was going to share a good portion of the commission with her.

Eyebrows rose at Laney’s self proclamation, tongue pushing along the front of his teeth as he considered the new twist to the tale. The nanny who was fishing around for cigarettes in his pocket. His newly freed hand (that had pulled away from Laney) scratched nervously at the back of his neck, cheeks on fire as he glanced to the top of the door. The little entrance space wasn’t quite big enough for them all now that he thought about it.

“She - uh, you know, the funny thing is... yeah, it wasn’t -” Frank laughed and continued to rub at his neck, finally taking in a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out with a shrug of his shoulders. “She’s the nanny. Took her a lot to pass boards with the Ministry, but you take what you can get when you’re a struggling small family.” Marko barked and moved around, anxious to get inside.

The realtor’s face reddened and she opened the door, speechless. Frank gave Laney a look before Marko pulled him inside. “I think... I think Jeff said the... last of the paperwork was just in the kitchen.” Frank set the backpack down inside the small room just past the front door; it looked like it had probably held space for changing in the winter; room for coats to hang and bags to be set. Frank already planned to put more bookshelves and turn it into more of a study. It was weird, seeing it so empty. It all felt more real, now. It was soon going to be Frank’s.

He let Marko off the leash before glancing to Laney. “You can check it out if you want.” He followed after the realtor to the left to the kitchen. The two doorways that led from the soon-to-be-study went to both the living room and then to the kitchen. Beyond the living room was the bedroom and washroom.

She looked at him with disapproving eyes, but held out the quill with the ink pot there. Frank looked over the paperwork and rubbed at his chin. “Is it just you signing, Mr. Pratt?” He nodded and read over it, acknowledging the werewolf tax with a pursing of his lips before initialing. Once all the forms were initialed and witnessed, he set the quill down and stood straight. “I’m sorry for the hassle, Jessica. Thank you-” Marko came in, sliding on the floor as he ran around the corner as fast as he could.

He wouldn’t just watch from the garden while she had all of the fun on a broom by herself, but he could think that for a while. Laney would let him move his furniture in before she tried to get him on hers. The kind that flew. And wasn’t furniture.

And before they did either of those things, he needed his keys (plus duplicates).

The last of the wife surprise melted away as Laney listened to Frank struggle to elaborate on the (apparently newest) lie she had just served the realtor. What eventually came was a burn. She looked to him, briefly, burying her fake nanny sting, and then looked back to the woman. “It’s true, when you struggle because you’re a scoundrel, you don’t always get your first choice.” She smiled brightly, catching Frank’s eye with apparent genuine enthusiasm and a huge grin. “But I think I fit in quite nicely. Or he fits in…” She shrugged. “To my life, anyway,” she finished. To clarify.

After introductions, they followed her inside, the nanny brushing against Frank when Jessica wasn’t looking… and lingering there a bit longer than she probably should have. She looked around, taking in the ceiling and built-in shelves. Even empty, the place seemed very Frank. Laney warmed to it immediately, and so did her smile.

Hardly needing permission, the seeker began to explore, moving slowly at first, and then disappearing through the doorway opposite Frank and Jessica. Marko was at her side, apparently as intrigued with the bedroom as Laney was. She didn’t need a bed to envision it. She didn’t need a bed, period.

When she had finished looking around, pausing in front of the mirror to tie her hair into two quick, loose sprightly nanny braids, she crossed back through the living room, the front room, and into the kitchen, giving it one curious sweep before setting her sights on Frank again. Mark had just beat her. She ambled around the counter and settled next to him, leaning into it. “I can see why you bought it. We can get into a lot of trouble here.” She smiled, and then remembered Jessica (whom she’d never forgotten). She looked at the woman and clarified: “With Gabe. Dad and son both love their toys.”

Laney straightened up and gave him a nudge. “Did you sign? I’m ready to celebrate.” The hand that had been hovering over the counter and fell below, doing Merlin knew what from Jessica’s sightline. “Oh, will you stay? I really know how to throw a party. You have to learn when you live with this family. Frank always let’s me take a bottle from the top shelf,” she added, lowering her voice to share the secret. “Don’t tell Akiva.”

A scoundrel was she? Frank almost laughed but he bit his lower lip hard to keep it from slipping out, adopting a sympathetic look instead as he nodded along. He would have to bring up her rough childhood later; the streets of London must have put that air of don’t-give-a-damn into her. The realtor glanced between them and didn’t have anything to say; the look on her face said enough, after all. “Gabe, you mean. You love taking care of Gabe.”

Forget about the fact her fingers were playing pocket billiards for his cigarettes.

When she brushed against him, he gave her a look, glanced to make sure the realtor wasn’t looking, and then winked before moving on. He had to keep distance from her; they hadn’t been back together long enough for the honeymoon phase to be gone. No need to give the poor realtor anything else to send her to the Janus Thickey Ward.

Frank did a double take when Laney came back in, her hair in braids, mouth slack as he looked them over. What was she up to? His mouth shut and he glanced away quickly, cheeks reddening; it was as if he was an open book to his inner most thoughts. Frank rolled his eyes and smirked, shaking his head. This craziness of a story had ridiculousness written all over it. If only one of the actors had slipped up and brought it to light. Now he was forced to play it through.

He should have made sure Jeff would show up.

Then the toy comment clicked and his face turned a deeper shade of burgundy. Honestly. And then her hand - he nearly choked on his own spit, fumbling for papers as he shuffled them together and pushed them towards Jessica. A hand fell below and pushed hers away, keeping it from areas known to make standing difficult. He glanced suspiciously at Laney before running his tongue over his lips. “I don’t... I don’t know, I might have forgotten-”

Jessica blinked and closed her mouth, pulling the papers together and stacking them neatly. “After this sell, why not.” Frank’s words died in the air before it was his turn to be shocked. Well.

A few minutes later and he had the champagne and a couple of flutes out. He had another glass that he kept for himself, pouring enough for a good toast and then a little after, offering them to each. “To the Pratt Cottage.” He gave a sheepish grin before clinking the glass with each women, taking a sip while glancing between them.

---

Frank ran his hand over his face and laughed; now that they were finally alone, with each holding a key, Frank could let the story out. They took the champagne bottle out back, letting Marko chase squirrels and birds while he explained the trouble Akiva and he put poor Jessica through. “And then... I completely forgot. She’s not the realtor I started with, so I didn’t think I’d see her again.” Frank leaned against the awning support before smirking.

“What’s the going rate for nannies anyway?” An eyebrow cocked before he took a swig from the bottle, passing it back to Laney as he made a face; it wasn’t his choice of alcohol, that was for sure.

Frank’s stutters and looks and brilliant, ever-changing blush had been well worth the gamble of potentially making a realtor think twice about a signing. But really, the offer had been accepted and even Marko was making himself at home, so what was the harm in poking fun and digging her favorite direwolf into an even deeper hole?

But Jessica had surprised them both. Not only had there been no hitch in the signing, but the woman had agreed to a toast. It had pleased Laney to no end, and the Seeker had proceeded to skirt around the very thinly veiled meaning of words like toys, making them all the more thin. For good measure, and because she was nothing if not helpful, she told the story of her first night on the job, complete with the fact that even if she wasn’t Frank’s first pick for nanny, she had more than met the rest of his criteria.

Once she had left, they carried the party outside, abandoning champagne flutes for a casual and bare-cupboard friendly pass-the-bottle policy.

“Well now you’re going to have to send her our family holiday card.” The picture perfect image of the couple on the sofa which had so irked her was replaced in Laney’s mind by a gloriously naughty Frank Claus and a lap full of nanny. With Mrs. Akiva Claus and an elf baby offering holiday spirits— of the alcoholic sort. The more of the house-hunting story Laney had heard, the more comfortable she was with laughing at her own anger. “Marko can be a reindeer.” It was obvious by her tone that that was the least scandalous of her ideas.

Accepting the bottle, she smirked back at him. It became a bigger grin as she pulled the champagne away from her lips. “You couldn’t afford me.” Especially not after he’d bought this place. She took another swig and hovered closer, leaning into him a bit, but still keeping enough distance to be suggestive. “Or maybe you could.” She held the bottle up toward his mouth. “Mr. Pratt.”

“Do you want something else?” She asked. “Not a champagne fan?” Laney took another swig, her eyes staying on him.

Frank tried to interject amongst the fake retelling of her first night as nanny, but he had no idea where the story was coming from and couldn’t stop her until after things were said. Jessica had another glass of champagne (perhaps to deal with the unbelievably twisted family she just helped sell a home to) before saying her farewells.

Fingers ran through his hair before he shook his head. Laney was not in charge of any holiday card positioning. “I daresay she’d like to never hear from this household again.” Jeff no doubt had a good laugh about it; having been Frank’s realtor, he knew of the situation for Frank. A direwolf was still hard to sell, but not as hard as the fake family had been. An eyebrow cocked as he looked her over, glancing briefly to the happy-go-lucky pup.

“Red nosed variety or a different one?” He smirked before scuffing his shoe against the ground; there was minor work to be done, but compared to the others... it was mostly cosmetic. Things that Frank wanted in his house. That, mixed with the amount of property that came with it, had put it at the very fringe of his budget. Which meant they were going to be making dinner from items in his fridge. Once they... unpacked.

At least that was Frank’s idea, currently. In his head. That was a little fuzzier than it had been before the champagne became involved.

A laugh accompanied her statement. “Bold, Miss Irving.” He put an arm around her and pulled her in close. Frank kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, shaking his head at her question. “I don’t mind a glass to celebrate an occasion. But beyond that... it’s just too bubbly for me. Gives me the worst hangover.” And he hadn’t had one of those since the first night they got back together. Or the next morning, rather.

Glancing across the yard, he pointed to the hill with an obvious door in it. “That’s the shed. I have big plans, if I get another bonus, to turn that place around. Maybe the Ministry will... let me spend my full moons in it.” Reinforcing the walls with silver steel, however, was not going to be cheap. Let alone the fresh drywall and paint and furnishings. But that was why the property was a work in progress. His home. Taking a deep breath, he grinned and glanced to her.

With his arm around her, he pulled her to the post, turning them so that her back was against it and he was in front of her. Careful of the champagne, Frank lifted her up and leaned her against the support, hands encouraging her legs to wrap around his waist. He kissed her lips as fingers tightened on her thighs, moving under her cheeks to help support her. Finally Frank pulled back. “We need to make a trip. The floo should be ready to be set up.” He kissed what he could see of her collarbone. “Plus... I need the nanny to see to a few things. Rather urgently.”

Laney shrugged. If Frank wanted to be a bad client and not send holiday greetings… well, he was the one who had bought the house. But it was a small world, especially outside of London, on the edges of these quainter towns, and who knew whether they might see the woman again, showing off property to less assuming clients.

Reindeer were a very real thing, and the tale of St. Nicholas was as well known in the wizarding world as it was in the muggle. But the details muggles made up— for their carols and to scare their children into submission— were all wrong. Laney had nevertheless heard about this red-nosed reindeer on more than one occasion, and it did not surprise her that Frank brought it up. Her own nose seemed to wrinkle as she pursed her lips. “How could anyone believe that?” She looked down at Marko as her face softened back into its normal state. “Just a regular reindeer flying around the world delivering gifts.” Which was also a made-up story, but it at least it had some believability. To small children.

Laney remembered when they had had to pretend for Basil. That hadn’t lasted long. And the little jerk deserved the truth prematurely.

"Muggles are so gullible,” she told the dog.

She looked back to Frank. “I prefer firewhiskey.” It got the job done (faster) and there none of those bubbles to give him a headache later. (Not that the headaches didn’t come…). “But I don’t mind it.” She raised the bottle again in a kind of toast to champagne being a decent enough drink. Her grin spread at the thought of hungover Frank. Maybe that version of him needed to visit her again. And buy her more breakfast. “Well, you’ve got sunglasses for that.”

She followed his finger to the shed, appraising it casually. At the mention of full moons, Laney hugged him around the middle for a moment. It was strange, how much she had come to sympathize with his condition— or what the Ministry did to people like him— but that was what happened when one slept with a direwolf. The excitement never wore off, either, even if she had seen the darker and more depressing side of it, too. The cycle on her shoulder, hidden by a t-shirt, was waning now, the moon slowly becoming obscured night by night. It would give Frank time to start his work on the shed, at least. “If they don’t let you, maybe they’ll receive a few complaints…”

Laney could always find an excuse to mouth off to the press.

As their positions switched, Laney made it easy for him, pushing herself into the post and hugging Frank with her legs. She kissed him back heavily, nothing one one would associate with a child-friendly work environment. Her fingers curled lightly at the base of his neck as he moved down to her chest. She bit her lip, even if he couldn’t see it from his current position. Laney’s fingers moved to his jaw, and finally forced his chin up. She stared at him, and frowned suddenly. “What would your wife think?”

But it only took a few blinks before the expression melted away, replaced by playful smile. She leaned closer, nipped at his lips. “Urgent…” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Task…” Deepened the kiss. “First.”

---

Unpacking was not quite so fun as breaking in the new house (or back garden), but they’d had fun with it. There was still a lot to be done, but Frank’s new place was looking much less bare than it had been, and old his place had been successfully cleared out. From his place on the floor, Marko let out a tired doggy huff and settled his head, eyes heavy.

“I think he has the right idea…” Laney looked over her shoulder, in the other direction, and away from the shelf she’d been stuffing. She caught sight of Frank, who would no doubt find his own way to organize the books she’d been shoving at random into place. She thought he must have packed in generally organized piles, anyway. “You’re almost out of room here and this can’t even be half of your books.”

It wouldn’t be right any other way.

Laney turned away from the shelves and padded over to Frank, who was making the bed. “All for me?” She asked, falling onto it with a ceremonious thump and looking up at the ceiling. She turned to look at him again, and smiled, an obvious invite that he join her in laziness.

The gullibility of wizards versus muggles was something that could be held off for another time. Frank didn’t have the patience for a heated discussion right then; all the ridiculous things that those who grew up in a strictly wizarding household had believed when he got to Hogwarts about muggles had been mind-blowing, even for a curious, quiet eleven year old. Who took time to grow into his ears and found books all the more infectious when fantasy was suddenly reality.

Even when she was irritating, however, she could be sweet. It was the little things that made him know she cared. Frank was more than ecstatic that the full moon was over for another month. It would allow him time to focus on the house. Remodels would come up in the next few months, he was sure. Just being able to settle down sounded fantastic.

A roll of the eyes followed her question about his wife. “She’ll thank Merlin that you’re taking care of the dirty work.” He smirked at her smile, leaning forward for her lips, pressing up against her insistently. Head nodded at her last word before he lost breath to carry on a conversation.

---

It was weird; after all the years at his flat, he was suddenly leaving it. There was simplicity to it that he was going to miss, and a reminder of adventures of living in the city. Frank had admired the balcony with a last cigarette before moving the last of the boxes through the floo. The mess the fireplace could create was easily swept up with a simple spell; Frank didn’t have time for much else right then. By mid-afternoon, they had it cleared out, after a hearty lunch and perhaps a little bit of alcohol.

It helped that he had been mostly organized in his packing; his books were probably a majority of the boxes. From then until now, it had been about separating boxes and moving furniture around.

While Laney worked at a book box, Frank had taken the time to clean the bedroom, set the mattress up, and started putting the sheets on it. “He’s a dog; he gets to live his life carefree of packing and unpacking.” Frank shook his head as he tossed a pillow onto the bed, picking up the duvet to add it to the bed. “I was going to give you the dog bed. Marko might sleep with me tonight.” Frank smirked; then his mouth opened in protest when she collapsed onto the bed.

The invite was not lost on him, however, and he threw the duvet over the bed (and her) before crawling over to her. He straddled her and sat up, pulling the duvet back to get to her face. Frank grinned and stared down. “I’m getting hungry just looking at you.” Just for good measure, he showed his teeth in his smile, eyes waggling. He was going to want dinner soon, that was for sure.

Laney gave him a look as he informed that Marko would be stealing her place on the bed later.

All the more reason to ruin to his bed-making.

Frank’s revenge was fluffy at most, and Laney lay contently under the duvet, staring at the pleasant glow of afternoon sunlight pouring through it as he shifted under the under side of it. But soon he was straddling her, and Laney was letting out a single, breathy laugh. She wore a properly unimpressed expression as freed— or at least the top half of her. “Don’t look at me, I’m relegated to puppy chow.”

Tilting her head back on the pillow, she smiled a little. His smile was sweet even when it was wolfish or saucy. “But I guess that makes me appetizing to the biggest dog in the room…”

Reaching out with both hands, she gathered the material of his t-shirt and pulled him down for a brief peck of a kiss before wriggling a bit and pushing him lightly off to the side. Laney turned kicked off the duvet and scooted up on the pillows, so that her back was resting against the back of the bed. She turned to look at him. “No champagne for dinner, lightweight?”

She looked around the room. It was really coming along nicely, and even Laney couldn’t deny that the light that poured in from the much-less-crowded exterior was pleasing. It already looked like a home.

She took an easy breath, breaking the moment of silence. “I got you something.” She turned to look at him. “It’s not big deal, just a house-warming gift…” Fake wives weren’t the only ones who could be sentimental. She stretched toward the bedside table and picked up her wand, summoning a package from the front room where she’d left a bag of her stuff. It hovered in and stopped over Frank, nudging him annoying before landing in his lap. It was plainly wrapped, a bit bigger than both of his hands, and dense but not too heavy.

Laney waited for him to unwrap it, a casual observer even as her heart told her it was going to speed up a touch, just to annoy her. “It’s just,” she reiterated, and shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It wasn’t absurdly expensive. Inside was a picture frame, nicely detailed but not ostentatious, with a painstakingly neat, folded brown note card tied with a twine bow to the bottom corner. It explained in classic black ink, the hand of the witch who had sold it to Laney, about the charms with which it was imbued: protection spells, a gentle dream charm, a charm to ease nightmares. It wasn’t foolproof— such magic was complicated, and dreams even more so. But it might at least give him restful naps.

Inside the frame was a photo of Laney and Frank under the very same duvet, the former wielding her wand to magic a very standard wizarding camera overhead, and turning to kiss the cheek of the latter, who was half-asleep. Another card, just a square of it, was stuck in the back of the frame with a simple “Love, Laney” written in her hand. “You can put it over Marko’s bed if you want."

Frank made a show of licking his lips and smacking them together with noise. “Mmmmm, yes you are.” And puppy chow? He wasn’t much of a puppy... not when compared to the children in the room, at least. How would Laney feel, being the second oldest in the room? “More than appetizing. I want you for my main course.” One of the earliest lessons he had learned about his new life was to accept jokes with as much ease as possible. From Laney, in this particular moment, he took it as an intimate nickname.

Not quite as malicious as other times she had put him down using the direwolf status. Just like he kidded with her about her age. Through all the ups and downs, Frank believed that life was to be enjoyed as much as possible, and that laughter was often the best remedy. Which was obvious in the grin plastered on his face, going away long enough to kiss her back before she caught him off balance. He laughed as he moved out of her way and on to his side, watching her move up the bed.

“For dinner? That’s more of a breakfast item, isn’t it? Besides...” His hand reached out and tried to grab her leg, tugging it gently before he smirked. “I thought you mentioned firewhiskey.” Though he was ok with beer as well. Maybe they could try out one of the take aways from the village. If there had been one... He tried to recall as he chewed on his lower lip, watching her take in the room.

His eyebrows rose as he assessed her. “You didn’t... have to.” Frank shifted a bit and smiled, hand rubbing her leg before pulling back. He glanced behind at the insistent box, about to grab it before it plopped down in his lap. Partly. Frank pushed himself up and scooted himself a little closer to Laney, a leg hanging off the edge of the bed as he admired the simplicity of the wrap job.

After a quick glance to her, he started to unwrap it. A noise escaped, a disagreeing one, at her attempt to down play the thoughtfulness. And when he unwrapped it, he noticed the photo first; he smiled and ran a finger over her face, shaking his head at his ridiculousness in it. Frank vaguely remembered her taking a few shots. Then his eyes moved over the actual frame, admiring it, finally focusing on the written note.

He read through it twice; the first time, there was a lump in his throat. Frank cleared the lump away and ran a hand through his hair, smiling to himself as he glanced over it once again. Frank turned it over as she spoke, eyes glossing over her name and the term of endearment that they hadn’t said very often. Finally he shook his head and looked up at her; he leaned forward and propped it up on a shelf beside her head, fixing it just so. Frank turned his head to hers, only centimeters from her, and sighed. “You are complicated, Miss Irving.” He kissed her cheek before wrapping his arms around her and dragging her back down on the bed in a smothering hug. “Thank you, it’s perfect. Just the flare the room needed.”

He nudged her gently with the side of his head, rubbing his nose against hers. “I love it.” His voice was thick with something, and so he cleared it once again before shifting. “Come on, let’s get you a present too. What do you want to eat?” Frank rolled over her before pushing himself up and off, tugging her with him and sparing another glance to the picture frame before straightening up.

Laney was down with being dinner. Why had they fought again? “No forks and knives. You have to go rogue.” Mouths and hands only: it was the proper way to eat the best things. Like Miss Lorraine Irving, wunderkind seeker.

"That’s more of a breakfast item, isn’t it?”

“Brunch,” she said, finding middle ground, because she was obviously more diplomatic than Frank. “But I’m cool with moving on to something stronger.” Or less bubbly. Neither of them were champagne people, even if Laney would claim that she knew nothing of the terrible hangovers Frank experienced. “Or more solid.”

She watched Frank read the card, and inwardly continued to battle with her nerves while her face and body remained still, calm, nonchalant enough. They were not the overbaring kind of couple who ordered matching t-shirts and kissed over spaghetti noodles with a moonlit backdrop. But Frank was wrong. She did have to do this, to let him know that she was there, even if she didn’t always show it. She let the gift speak for itself. She considered his silence, what it could mean, and tried at the same time not to consider it.

“You are complicated, Miss Irving.”

She hoped thought knew that was a good thing.

Laney felt her heart jump a bit, happily this time, and she let him pull her down as she wrapped her own arms around whatever part of Frank she could find. “I’m glad you like it,” she said softly, her smile widening into something dimpled as their faces touched. She caught the tone of his voice, and was able to peck his cheek before he shifted and climbed up. Laney extended an arm and bounced up to join him, using Frank to make it all the easier. She pressed her palms into the back of his sides, and shuffling after him.

When they crossed out of the room, she slowed her pace. “I could go for anything as long as it comes with chips.” Which probably meant fried food. “Do the owls get lost way out here in the woods?” She spoke as if he wasn’t in a little village. Compared with London, they were mapless now. Laney grinned and bumped past him, swinging open the door of the fridge to look for drinks. “I bet you could build a fire out back and not get angry visitors.” Try doing that in a makeshift fire pit on her balcony. People were so sensitive.

“Rogue, huh. I might need to work on that... should I practice right now?” His smile slipped out slowly, perverse with his appraisal of her. It was a shame they had so much they had to get done and focus on. It wasn’t as if the house was going to unpack itself. Or, perhaps it could... but he’d still need to direct things where he wanted them.

One of the bigger upsides, currently, to the new location was that Marko was entertaining himself out back with the door open for easy access in and out. Frank would have to install a door for him eventually, but for now... the weather was decent and it worked.

Of course Laney would split hairs over breakfast and brunch. The only major difference between the two was the time of day that you at them at. “I’m sure you could handle swallowing something more solid.” Frank’s face was the picture of innocence and honesty. For a moment. Then it morphed and he grinned while watching her. There was something about her that energized him in a way that he couldn’t quite explain.

Even if they weren’t the most obnoxious PDA couple out there, it still meant a lot when she decided to show her feelings off. It was sincere and it felt good. Frank supposed the same could be said for when he did something nice. There were many times when he was out shopping that something caught his eye that felt like it would fit Laney. The problem was that they had been on the out the last time he had been doing something like that, and the thought of Laney at that time had filled him with irritation and a desire to smash whatever he wanted to buy.

Now, obviously, that would change. Again. It was pure honesty when he stated she was complicated. But then... he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

The constant jokes could grow wearisome after a time, but for now they still had mirth to them that Frank could get behind. He laughed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know yet. I guess we’ll get to find out.” He leaned against the island in the kitchen, watching her, eyes moving downward as they... watched. “Mm... I was thinking of a fire pit. And a hammock.” Marko came trotting back in to check them out, looking to see what food they might be pulling out, before he looped back around and out the door.

Frank watched him and smirked. “I’m sure there’s a place in town. Want to go for a walk?” Glancing over to her, eyebrows suggestively moved. He pushed up and away before stepping to her and wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. He bit gently before kissing it. Hands moved around her front and up to a decent holding spot. Frank grinned against her skin. “Come on, let’s get you something fast and easy.”

“You don’t need to practice. You just go for it.” Even if Laney was all for finger foods whenever Frank wanted, she was hungry for actual food, too. They could multitask, and Frank could really get his rogue on. “But I’m serious.” On the subject of food. “Something not complicated… and delicious.” That was a given.

He could wear that innocent face all he wanted (and it could work for him all night), Laney knew what he was like after dark… or under the covers. Sometimes in broad daylight, and public. “I don’t know, I think I’m coming down with a cold.” She frowned, and rubbed her throat. “I haven’t worked this hard in a long time.”

Her own fake expression lasted much longer. But eventually Laney, too, caved into a smile. She was ready to be done with one kind of work, but she could handle another, easy. She was excited for what the night would bring.

As she looked through the fridge, Laney smiled. A hammock. It was her kind of furniture. She looked over her shoulder, her hands still reaching around blindly and grabbing at bottles. “You’ll need a really good fastening charm. Wouldn’t want to bring the roof down.”

If he was reinforcing the shed, he could add that to the list.

As he came up behind her, Laney tilted her neck. her smile widened, but in a calm way, and her lids closed a bit. She let go of one of the bottles her hands was crawling over on the fridge shelf and brought it back to Frank’s hair, not worrying for a moment that it was now quite cold. She pressed back into him and let the other chilly palm slide over one of the arms around her front. “What, before I finish de-thawing your fridge?”

Grinning, she turned a fraction in his grasp and managed to push him back enough to shuffle away from the fridge and close with a tap of her foot. She turned around more and pushed him back into the island, leaning up to kiss him. “The upside to small towns is that there are fewer people to scandalize.” She pulled back with a smile, staring at his lips. “Or maybe that’s a downside.”

They kissed and tugged and joked their back to the front room before making sure that Marko had plenty of entertainment (and a treat) before they slipped into their shoes and headed up the road (leaving the fridge full of bottles for later). It was much easier to the see stars outside of London. They were already beginning to dot the sky, despite the sun still peaking out. Laney forgot sometimes.

It was a nice walk, and they soon found a nice little restaurant that fit the seeker’s criteria— and the ones Frank had set for her. (Maybe it wasn’t as fast as it could have been, but the chips were so good that Laney had nothing to complain about it).

The walk back much fuller, and maybe even slower. As they approached the road, she began to jog a little, pulling Frank in an attempt to get him to run, too. If that didn’t work…

Without giving him much time to pick a mode of transportation, Laney made her own. She wound around him and sprung up, grabbing his back. Her knees squeezed around waist, and her arms adjusted to hang from the front of his neck. “Be a good tour guide,” she encouraged, biting her lip and looking around the now much darker road. “Tell me all about that tree.” Maybe there was a history to it Laney couldn’t guess. The book hunter should know.

As they turned, she squeezed a bit closer, adjusting her hold and leaned in with more of a whisper. “One last box to unpack when you get home.”