November 5th had left a huge impact on the hospital, Arc mused as he climbed the stairs into the flat. He certainly felt it in his bones, that was for sure. Healers had a certain level of fitness, gained from rushing up and down stairs and corridors all day long; if they didn't start out with it, they sooner or later gained it. But even this level of chaos and panic and seeing to patients brought on a whole new tiredness that was making his entire body creak like an old man's.

Rustle wound his furry self around his owner's legs once the healer got to the sofa and stood there as if in some sort of daze. He gently pushed the kneazle away and sat down on the sofa heavily; the kneazle leapt up onto the sofa and headbutted his arm affectionately, purring. At least taking the weight off his feet provided some relief.

After a couple of minutes, Arcturus looked towards the kitchen table, as if he was forgetting something. It stood innocently in his gaze, even if he was expecting it to suddenly lift a leg like a finger and remind him. What was it?

A date.

Two words were enough to make him perk back up. Yes, he was tired, but he'd made a promise that he did want to keep, and that gave him back the energy he needed. He went to shower and change into something suitable for cooking. Thank goodness he thought to stock the pantry earlier in the week with his plans.



The door opened and shut downstairs, the sounds barely heard over the high-spirited strains of Irish folk music coming from the radio. Only when Rustle decided to let out a loud miaow did Arcturus finally turn around from his salad-making to see Elixa arriving at the top of the stairs, looking somewhat confused. He turned the volume down until the music was almost non-existent.

"Sorry, just being in the groove. I cook with music when I want to be really into it," he explained, at the sight of Elixa's confusion increasing on her face. "Yes, this isn't something you're always exposed to, I know." He went over to her. "How are you? How's tutorship under other healers?" A wry smile accompanied the question. "Found them less boring and poker faced? I wouldn't be surprised. Don't worry too much about the dinner and everything, I've got it covered. You can go and get changed, take your time if you must."

Elixa's boots carried her up the stairs from the front door which rattled on it's hinges, closing off the the Alley beyond. The winter weather approached, and she appeared at the top of them clad in a thicker wine red cloak, her bag over her shoulder, hair pinned up still from her shift at the hospital. She coughed as she made her way up, the change in temperature itching at her throat.

The wireless was singing out to reach the kitchen and as Arcturus caught sight of her at the top of the stairs the volume was quickly reduced, accompanied by hasty explanations of cooking and music.

"How are you? How's tutorship under other healers?" He asked, rounding the kitchen table to join her as she drew her cloak over her shoulders and up onto the hooks above her. For someone who used to hardly speak a word to her, Arcturus was now full of enthusiastic questions. It was a joy to hear.

"Dull." Elixa replied, her voice sounding a little tired. She shook her head, rising onto tiptoes to kiss him briefly before continuing. "No, not all of them, just the pace of learning sometimes with a few of the older stick-in-the-muds. If I have to verbalise how to bathe nettlerash again tomorrow I may punch one of my dear, dear mentors."

Her grin was with gritted teeth and her eyes wide, Arc would know exactly which near-retirement healer had pedantry down to a fine art. He insisted all healing students were the same, despite prior experience. There was revising the basics, and then there was being taught them again as if you knew nothing.

"You're cooking?" She asked, looking round past him, clearing her throat and muttering pardons for it, her fist to her mouth. "Aw, Arc, you didn't have to. But good on you. Smells tasty..." She patted his right forearm gently as she issued praise, reaching  up to unpin her hair.

"I need a bath, the bit of the day that wasn't dull was the part where two patients vomited on me within an hour. No dodging when you're helping them into bed. Glorious." She pulled the last of the pins out and shook her head to free the last of her curls.

"Half an hour? Is there a dress code for this fine establishment?" She asked, grinning, wanting very much to slip her arms around him, but sure she probably did not smell all that pleasant given the day's events.

"If I have to verbalise how to bathe nettlerash again tomorrow I may punch one of my dear, dear mentors."

"Think of it as a test for your pokerface," said Arc calmly.

Though there was indeed a faint whiff of gastrointestinal acid about her, he didn't bother mentioning it to her. Getting covered in all sorts of bodily fluids was part of the job. He kissed her on the forehead gently.

"Dress code? Wear something that makes you feel good." He shrugged, and glanced at the cooking behind him. "Half an hour will be just fine, I'll wash up while I wait for you. Now, shoo." The healer waved a hand at her. "Go get yourself cleaned up, I'll take care of all of this, wine, food and everything. I just hope that I still remember what you're allergic to, after all those months of being away!" He smiled at her to let her know amidst his playful tone he still did.

Once she had gone upstairs, he turned the volume - a little surreptitiously - of the radio back up again. The last time he had listened to the radio at a volume higher than whispering level had been in his family house, and that was quite a while back as well. Back at home he'd only do it if his parents weren't around since they weren't into the same music as he was, but now in the flat he could probably do it.

Besides, the Witching Hour tonight was running loose with an entire programme dedicated to The Wild Aethonans, a band that Arc would rather chew his arm off than admit to anyone he liked. It wasn't anything about the band that made him ashamed; rather, it was the fact that he liked optimistic Celtic melodies and cadences. Juxtaposed with his rather reserved attitude at most times of the day, it seemed almost...dissonant. He was very aware of this.

Time flew with the high-pitched trill of the uilleann pipes and the beating rhythms of the bodhrán, Arc's concentration only for finishing the food in front of him. He had very much decided on a three-course meal as he felt somewhat guilty for not being able to take Elixa out to a nice place. Anatomical knowledge came easily to him, but asking him to give suggestions for restaurants would mostly cause him to smile apologetically and shake his head. So while he was at it, at least set the place up to make it feel like he was, for once, treating her.

Candles seemed like an overly cliché thing to do, but he'd gone for that - white, since red made him feel like he was going too far. He dimmed the lights around the living room and kitchen, and shifted the table out so they weren't sitting in the cramped odd space with crockery nearby. Plain white tablecloth draped over the old and admittedly splinter-filled table, along with plates and wine glasses. And wine - Arc had made sure that he'd gotten something suitable for his plans as soon as he had the time to.

All done to the beats of Irish music, which did drown out any other sound in the room. Arc lightly stepped over his kneazle as he went to wash the dishes, a faint smile on his face. Music was life.

He didn't realise it, but the whole time he was working away at making real his plans he was lightly stepping and whirling to the music. It reached into him in some subconscious way that really let him feel free of worries. For a while, he could dance to the rhythm of life without having to concern himself with anything.

"Wear something that makes you feel good." Arcturus replied, to which Elixa's mind stepped to can't wear you, but she didn't utter it aloud.

"... just hope I still remember what you're allergic to..."

"Lack of regular alcohol and ugly boys." She affirmed with a deadpan tone before climbing the stairs.

It was all too tempting to stay longer in the bath. Since the incident at the Leaky Cauldron her lungs seemed to ache. She was still trying different combinations to relieve whatever damage had been done during the short time she was trapped.

However, now she was home and beneath her in the kitchen there was a rather handsome wizard cooking a special dinner. Work, vomit and a ruined pub were the furthest things from her mind as she giggled to herself. The sound from below came through the bathwater more clearly than it did when her ears were above.

Eventually she hauled herself out of the hot water and went to attend to dressing in something that met the criteria Arcturus had set. She wanted to make an effort. The two of them didn't go out to socialise, it wasn't Arc's thing, but he had seen her dressed plenty of times to go. At Halloween he'd been most complimentary of her Samhain costume.

Half an hour might have been a little conservative on her part, she reflected on checking the time, but nothing she couldn't handle. A dark green dress cut just above her knee shot out of her wardrobe to her bed before she tipped her head over to dry her hair, now free of all traces of vomit.

Stockinged feet crept down the stairs not long later, perhaps aided by a little light-footed charming. The music and the movement downstairs had become a domestic ballet of preparation, and Elixa an enthralled audience. She had not seen Arcturus so animated at home unless he was indulging in a little private research. Was he... was he dancing?

She sank down onto the bottom steps of their stairs, a hand over the grin on her face, trying to stop herself from laughing happily at this scene. Never in her months of being in Britain did she think she would have witnessed this particular combination of generally unemotional wizard, loud music and the notion of romance!

There was only so long she could lurk before her presence was felt, Rustle gave her away, fluffing up his tail, whiskers twitching.

"May I join the dance?" Elixa asked with a happy laugh, hopping up from her seat on the bottom of the stairs once spotted.

Arc was still lost in the melodies of highlands when he realised Rustle's attention was taken by something else, whiskers, ears and all. He glanced in the direction of the kneazle's attention, and then did a double-take and switched the radio off so quickly that it nearly fell off the mantelpiece.

Awkward silence descended. Arc lifted his hand from the radio, diverting his gaze from Elixa as his face flushed. As much as he trusted her and would even admit to having some affection for her at the moment, his love for dancing was still a very private matter that he didn't like to talk about because he had some insecurities about such disorganised movement.

But on the other hand it would be a bit disappointing for her after that...and she'd meant it nicely enough.

"I'm not very good at it," he said, still not looking at her. "I...maybe some other time? Everything else is ready, except for, well, I haven't changed into something presentable. I'll go do that."

The radio was muted with such speed, Arcturus almost pulled it off their mantlepiece. He was blushing, she hadn't meant for him to be horribly embarrassed.

"Hm," Elixa replied, her feet softly pattering over to him as she stepped across the floor with a bounce, "You're good as you are," her hands reached his elbow gently, and then his forearm, circling him once with a bounce, humming along as best she could remember the melody when she came downstairs. There was a mischievous, kind look in her eye as she did, and her loose black curls swung behind her as she went. She continued to hum, a smile on her lips she made her way back round to stop before him. She did a little turn on the spot before coming to a halt, fingertips reaching for him.

"I'll let you into a secret," she spoke in a low voice, drawing close to him, gazing upwards - her lack of shoes only increasing the difference in their height, "Everyone just makes it up, including me." She reached her arms around him, and gave his waist a squeeze. "And what I saw I liked very much." She grinned and pressed her cheek against his chest, faintly catching the thud of his heart as she did.

After a moment Elixa looked up at Arcturus, inclining backwards, arms still locked around him. He wasn't going anywhere to hide!
"You're comfortable aren't you? Doesn't need to be presentable. I don't think it's that sort of establishment." She raised herself on tiptoes to seek his lips, deciding that the line 'you won't be wearing them long' was probably a little rich before they'd sat down for dinner...

She didn't laugh at him, although he felt a little silly that he had expected her to. He was still blushing as she looked upwards at him, but he mustered enough courage to return her gaze despite all his uncertainty. Her brief gesture on his chest eased up some of the awkwardness a little more. Well, it wouldn't be too bad.

"I'm...it's not really a matter of being comfortable? I mean, it's just all domestic-ness..." He looked down at himself, and then at her to make his point, without saying it out loud. "It doesn't quite fee-- oh, you know what, screw it. Let's just have dinner, or else you'll never get your arms off of me." A sheepish smile accompanied his words, as his way of being light-hearted.

He affirmed that he was still blushing. Waiting for it to dissipate would take too long; this was a date, not a house dinner as usual. The table was set, everything had been fine except for him alone, but that was now too minor a detail in the grand scheme of things.

When was the last time he had a date? Oh, too far back to properly remember the details, but he did recall it had been uncomfortable at best. The realisation that he hadn't liked the girl as much as he thought he had, as well as his partner finding he was a little bit too socially awkward for her, had progressively grown stronger as the date had progressed. He hoped quietly that this wouldn't happen with Elixa now, mostly at least because this time they knew each other a little better than just jumping into it.

"Yes, let's!" Elixa replied with a warm smile. She didn't get the kiss she'd been angling for, but it was more over Arc's embarrassment at her catching him dancing, she was sure. Without further hesitation she relinquished her clasp on him and turned to admire the table. It had been moved out of the kitchen, even such a small move went towards making what was another meal shared together in the flat feel a bit different. The candles were a lovely touch too.

"Table for two?" She asked, reaching her left hand out briefly to grasp his right for a moment, smiling happily. "Shall I take a seat?" She let go and her hands smoothed her dress against her thighs before she took a seat, crossing her ankles beneath the chair.

"What's for dinner? I could smell it as I was getting ready, can't wait to eat." Her fingers extended to the cutlery, fiddling gently with the ends as she watched Arc nearby, looking forward to seeing dinner. Absentmindedly, she continued to hum a little of the song that had been on the radio.

Still blushing, he let her take his hand. It felt awkward, but it was a warm kind of awkward, a safe feeling despite navigating the tricky terrain of what was to come, rather than the cold, bottom-of-stomach-dropping awkward. It was the kind that encouraged him to push on. See what he could do.

"I...thought that dinner shouldn't be such a heavy affair," he said quietly, "so I suppose a light appetiser and then the main dish. They're both Greek, I'm afraid." He paused. "But that doesn't make you lose your appetite, I guess? One day you really need to let me taste something from your country, I'm just saying."

Arc moved a covered plate from the side of the table to the centre, where Elixa could reach it without having to stretch over the table. "Greeks love using filo dough. The earliest recorded use of it was around the thirteenth century, and most likely came from the Ottoman Empire. I sometimes make them when you're not here, because I...like to make baklava for myself." His blush wasn't leaving his face. "But this is not...that, baklava, this is tiropita[1], basically 'cheese-pie'."

He uncovered the dish to reveal a small set of triangular golden brown pastries on a bed of lettuce and garnished with olives as well as slices of raw orange bell peppers and small tomatoes[2]. Once the little ceremony was over, he quietly took his seat and gestured at the dish.

"Um. You first." He was still blushing. "This is for you, after all."

1.	Do not click if looking at pictures and/or articles of food make you hungry.
2.	Also applies.

Intrigued, Elixa sat forward, propping her chin on her hand, and her elbow on the edge of the table to listen, eyes bright.
"… you really need to let me taste something from your country, I'm just saying." A gentle smile crossed her face, dark eyes glancing to his.
"I'd love that," she assured him "but I want to try yours first. Go on."

His hands rearranged the plates on the table between them and explained. Dinner and a history lesson. She was most honoured. Of course she had to try all of them, at least once. Twice, if not thrice when she tried combining them. She quizzed Arc on how they were made as they ate. Whereas she might not ordinarily have a huge interest in cooking, it seemed reasonable conversation given the consumption.

Eventually as the amount began to subside, she self-consciously dabbed at her mouth with a napkin (who knew they owned such things?)
"Best leave some room for the main course. Damn, didn't realise how hungry I was," she confessed, folding her napkin back onto her lap. Her hands lifted a moment to tug her black curls back over her shoulders, and adjust her dress over her ribs. She was sure that every time she leaned over to scoop something from the middle of the table, Arcturus was getting a good view.

"They were really good, thanks for that Arcturus." She confirmed, sitting back a little and reaching for her glass. "Could have polished more of those off given half the chance. Sorry, good's not the word - tasty." She winked. She wasn't the sort of friend who was a walking thesaurus after all.

"I could get used to this!" She teased him, lifting a foot to gently graze the outside of his knee with the tops of her toes, meaning to convey affection. "Not sure how you're going to top it with the main course…"

Arc ate a few himself, but only after he let Elixa take the first one. It was only polite, after all, and he was almost practically showing off his cooking at this point. He was only too happy to oblige Elixa's questions. Despite the awkward start on his behalf, he was very soon almost constantly smiling, along with egregious use of napkin.

With the fire's warmth and how comfortable it was, he felt at peace for the first time these past few weeks and yet energised to be perfectly content with Elixa. The last time he'd been this comfortable it was only with his parents for the usual Sunday breakfast; even then he had to return to catch up on his reading and help her with her theory work. It was a rare sight for Arc to be chuckling lightly and smiling as he joked with her.

"Ah, trust me, this is just a taster." He winked at her, sliding off his chair. "You'll be hungry for this one, I guarantee it. Just move the plate aside, because these are huge...I'll be right back."

It took him just a couple of minutes, with Rustle watching beadily from the floor. Arc gave him a look, knowing he could smell the meat from under the cover, and set the plates on the table carefully. He straightened up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind one ear. "You might want to get a little hands-on for this," he said teasingly to Elixa. "Take in the smell of dill, basil, oregano, saffron...I don't usually use it that much because it's so expensive and it's only reserved for really special occasions, but," he bent down until his face was level with hers and stretched out a finger to lift her chin and dropped his voice into a soft, low tone, "this is a really special occasion after all."

He took the cover off Elixa's plate and set it aside. "Well, I'm not going to tell you about it[1]," he said, sitting down. He waved a hand. "Go on."

1.	Repeat warning from earlier. The only change is saffron rice pilaf.

Not only wonderful food, but Arc on his own, in a bright mood. This was truly spoiling her, Elixa reflected to herself. She didn't want to point it out so bluntly, they were having fun, and more importantly, he was having fun. She was all for it. Arcturus Hollingbury was awfully serious! It was splendid when his mask dropped.

The suggestion to move the plates was quickly obliged, Elixa's eyes as wide as they might manage, anticipating the size of the main course. Arc was not one to exaggerate easily on size. Space made, she propped an elbow on the table and smiled to herself as she watched him in the kitchen. Rustle doing much the same from below.

"You might want to get a little hands-on for this," despite herself, Elixa laughed at the expression in relation to food rather than themselves. It was a carefree, happy laugh. All thoughts of recent events, of work and other people were long forgotten, focusing on them, their little kitchen and the wonderful prospect of new food to taste.

She leaned over the dish and her eyes closed almost completely as she inhaled the scents from the dish as Arc described. His touch to her chin made her eyes fly open in surprise, not expecting it. Had he lingered a moment longer, their dark eyes meeting over the table, she might have leaned right over to kiss him in thanks.

"You don't have to ask twice," She replied with relish, fingers wiggling as she considered it. Quickly she reached up and pulled her hair back so it wouldn't get in the way before tucking in. It was pretty tricky to talk while consuming a little of everything on the plate before her. Instead, she fell back to making appreciative noises (not a hundred miles away from other occasions, admittedly).

"Arc, this is not cooking, this is magic. I know it's cliche, but seriously, I can see why you didn't want to go out for dinner." She sat back a moment, exhaling appreciatively. "This is hard act to follow, Hollingbury. Come on, spill, what's your secret - where's the house elf…" She winked, clearly joking. Of course Arcturus could cook, she'd seen him create potions…!

He didn't even take a bite out of his until she was done, enjoying her reactions to the food. He hadn't expected her to be so appreciative! And so complimentary, but instead of blushing he felt a sense of pride and partial gratefulness that he'd allowed his mother to make him learn how to cook at a young age.

Arc laughed at her cheekiness. "Just me, Elixa. Me, and my hands, and wanting to just have dinner and wine with you. It's been a long week, I'm tired of dealing with so many patients, we both deserve some rest and quality time. And what better way for quality time than being with you in the flat without anyone else in the way?" He gently picked up his wand and tapped the wine bottle, which proceeded to uncork itself and pour rich red swirling into the glasses. Once the bottle had sat back down on the table and corked itself up, he picked up the glass nearest to him and lifted it with a slight tilt of his head, smiling. "I did promise, and I like to try and keep my promises."

A quick sip to oil his throat (it was good wine, thank Merlin he'd picked right) and then to start on his own. "We've got all the time in the world to eat, go on. Try and mix some of it together. The chicken and tzatziki, at least. They're meant for each other."

He was laughing again, this was all going well! She had been worried that her noisy appreciation might be perceived as insincere or exaggerated for his benefit. In reality it wasn't, she was more than hungry and it was really good, but perhaps she didn't always express so freely.

"… they're meant for each other." A cough caught in Elixa's throat, partly the lingering sensations from the Leaky Cauldron fire and partly the fact her mind had made a connection from her extensive back catalogue of dinner-related flirting. No, resist. She smiled and afforded a polite cough away from the food, which prevailed a moment.

"Damn it," she reached for the wine glass and sipped, patting her chest. "I will, if you say so," she replied, gesturing to the food, "always take the chef's advice." She sipped her wine again and set it down. Beneath the table she shuffled and recrossed her legs before she carried on. "Ooh, that goes well." Elixa nodded to the wine. "Is that one we had or did you pick up something particular?" Her left hand reached out to gingerly turn the bottle to examine the label with an approving nod.

"Setting the bar a mile high, Arcturus, I am impressed, very impressed. I am going to sleep like a log after all this wine and wonderful food. Hopefully you are too. We've both been burning the candle at both ends." She fell silent to continue to eat, glancing up at her housemate, considering how bright he looked that evening in comparison to the previous ones that they'd shared food over.

Watching her eat made him feel a little more at peace. It was odd enough for him to wonder exactly why he felt that way, but it seemed that someone else appreciating his food induced contentment out of him. A job well done, he supposed, and he wouldn't have had it any other way.

"We had that a while back, I was thinking about how it went down really nicely with chicken," he said, reaching out to take another bite of his. He was hungry, too - he'd not really eaten much earlier so that he wouldn't be drowsy at work. "I didn't mean to impress, it's not like I'm making all this to advertise my viability to any interested parties out there, but I would cook like this again in a heartbeat if you asked."

He took a sip of wine, watching her eat. "I'm not really sure about bringing this up, but...how's your cough?" he asked her hesitantly. "It's not as bad as before, but I know sometimes you hide it from me. Especially when we're in bed, I can feel you force it down. You probably don't want me to worry, but you hiding it makes your condition sound like it's worse than it is." The base of the wine glass gently thunked on the table as he set it down. "I hope it isn't, though you chucking potions at yourself is concerning enough as it is already."

Arcturus usually considered himself fairly lousy with making his tone light, but he hoped the last words he spoke sounded exactly as he intended - a light tease. He trusted her with her potioneering skills, and she knew that.