Title taken from season 3 of FRIENDS.
Potential [M] for language on Margo's part.  Just putting that here in case.

---

Margo was just about ready to head to D&C for the evening.  Looking in the hall mirror, Margo adjusted the the hem of her top.  She smirked, happy with the results.  Really, if the letter was anything like some of her past witings[1], she was sure Nate would drop by and even the hint of a flame scar just curving over the low rise waist of her pants was just enough to fuck with him.

She didn’t always dress to impress people, but she figured she might as well carry what she started into fruition.  It was rude to lie about such things, after all.  Besides, it was totally payback for getting caught literally on her knees by his parents[2].  It wasn’t his fault, really, but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve to pay for it.

Margo shook her hair out one more time before turning from the mirror and seeing Lizard, sitting at the end of the hall, his tail thumping angrily. There was only one circumstance in which Lizard sat still and twitched his tail.  He was hungry.  As they locked eyes, Margo could see the yowl in his eyes before he unleashed it and she rolled her eyes, stumbling back into the apartment.  How could she have forgotten?  Lizard tangled himself up in her legs and she cursed as she tripped over him.  He screeched and ran to the other end of the kitchen, glaring at her. 

“Idiot,” Margo muttered angrily as she rubbed her thigh.  The plastic piece dug into her skin and she just… ugh!  Lizard was usually a pretty decent creature but when he was hungry (as with most creatures, she had come to figure out) he was horrid.  Going for the cans, she didn’t even notice when the door opened until she turned around again toward the bowl. 

Crossing paths with her roommate was an infrequent thing, given their opposing schedules and Margo grinned, “Oi! Look at this! I’d nearly forgotten you lived here, except for the red hairs hanging about everywhere,” she smirked. 

1.	This is a running trend Margo has started.  His secretary is very familiar with her handwriting by now and passes such things along quickly.
2.	Just Come Through my Door, in which Margo meets the Hawkes.

Long days at the office had become routine. While Nona had always put in her best work, leading up to trying to prove herself a fit liaison to handle cases on her own without the workplace equivalent of a nanny had cut severely into her time spent not only at home but actually anywhere that wasn't the Ministry. She didn't go out anymore ever and between Margo taking over the bar and finding a steady man in her life the two rarely saw one another. There were little traces of them everywhere around the apartment but it wasn't like she'd thought it be when they moved in together.

Not that she was complaining, she had basically adopted Lizard, or had been adopted by Lizard so there was always some creature to cuddle when she came in as Margo headed out (if the other woman was even home at all). Still, it was sort of nice when she walked in the door to see the back of her roommate's head as she talked to the previously mentioned cat, and better still when she ended up face down on the floor. Nona might have felt bad laughing at one point but this was sort of the nature of their friendship, the whole I'll help you up as soon as I'm done laughing at you bond only truly snarky sass monsters could share.

"I knew you wouldn't come after me so long as my half the rent kept showing up," she winked at the dark hair'd woman dropping a friendly kiss on her cheek as she dropped her bag on a nearby chair and crinkled her nose at the can of food in her hands, "ah, what's on Mr. Lizard's menu tonight? No doubt something to make his kitty kisses extra foul, I'm sure." She didn't even pretend to slow down as she went directly at the wine stash and fetched down one glass, then remembering her manners a second, "Speaking of kisses, I have no social life anymore so tell me all the gory details and developments I've missed recently."

“I’m easy to please,” Margo shrugged with a wry grin.  It was true, for the most part, Margo didn’t demand much from a roommate – in fact, people putting up with her was the harder thing to come across.  Sure, she was a blast in a glass, but not everyone wanted to room with someone who routinely found their way stumbling home at four in the morning. 

She glanced over at Lizard who was doing circles near his bowl, anxiously tingling.  “Some chicken liver shit,” Margo wrinkled her nose as she got to the task of feeding him and tossing the can, “beats rotting carcass though, believe me.”  As disgusting as it sounded, Margo did miss that smell.  She missed everything about the sanctuaries, dragon shit, rotting meat, and all.  D&C was a suitable alternative, but she doubted she’d ever feel a rush like standing on the side of a mountain observing a feeding inside of her bar. 

Ah well, she guessed things had to change.  And just because it wasn’t a constant brush with death, it didn’t mean the bar wasn’t good.  She was definitely happier than she thought she would be back in November and December.  She was even getting used to her hand, thanks to Flynn and his torturephysical therapy. 

“None for me,” Margo noted as she saw Nona pull a second wine glass, “Long night managing and many shots ahead of me, I’m sure,” she snorted.  You couldn’t be the boss and not do a round or two… you know, just for the sake of hospitality.  “Besides, don’t we only have that pink shit?” Margo made a face.  She didn’t much like wine to begin with, but if she was going to drink it, it couldn’t be pink. 

Finding her way to a stool, Margo lowered herself onto it, bracing her feet against the floor to make sure she didn’t fall.  She scratched her temple with her actual nail and pursed her lips.  “You could probably have a pretty healthy social life,” complete with quote bunnies, “if you didn’t go into that feeling shit.  It’s how I’ve lasted this long, yeh?” she snorted. 

“But, you know, nothing too exciting: just had his parents walk in while I was sucking him off in his living room,” it was dropped with the same casual air as a fact about the weather, “I was drunk. He was high. We ate quinoa,” she was still only half aware of what that really was, “It was so weird.” Margo shook her head: the things that happened to her!  “I have seen some stuff at the bar though – Onuris and some redhead[1] probably knew what the back of each other’s throats tasted like more than the beer.  Who knew he had it in him?”  She paused a moment before adding, "Not to mention your cousin and his manfriend there. No propriety those two," she teased (the irony was not lost on her).

1.	Aisling Cooper

"And that, my darling roommate, is why we get along so well," she grinned at Margo, though her lips and nose twisted every so slightly at the mention of liver and then rotting carcasses. It wasn't that Nona was genuinely prissy (though she did often play the part in any given situation) it was more that after a long day of trying to help people their world tended to treat like garbage the idea of rotting anything just sounded unpleasant. She wanted a nice long soak with a fizzy bath potion from Grimstone and maybe an enchanted mud mask to firm up her skin. Worrying about Werewolves would give a witch premature wrinkles if she wasn't careful. She wondered sometimes if these were the signs she was getting old, not growing up but genuinely getting old. Then she reminded herself that she was only twenty-five and that was ridiculous.

Narrowing her eyes as she put the extra glass away she snorted a little, "I happen to like that pink shit, but also I was planning on opening a bottle of red I had stashed in my secret hiding place." She turned to look at the other woman, eyebrow arching slightly as the words just seemed to fall out of Margo's mouth. Merlin love her but she had zero tact, and was actually talking complete shit. Sure Nona felt emotionally connected to people but she certainly wasn't looking to get wife'd up. She enjoyed the casual nature of her relationships because it was just easier. In some ways it was a direct rebellion against her mother's ideals and desire for Nona to be married with babies on the way.

"The hell you say," shaking her head as she moved to one of the drawers featuring a false bottom and retrieved a dusty looking bottle. "I could have a social life if trying to help the cursed were just slightly less time consuming. Such is the life of a bureaucrat trying to work within the system I suppose." Finally kicking off her heels and bringing her height down several surprising inches she uncorked the bottle of wine and poured herself a "healthy" glass (read: full as fuck), before boosting herself onto the counter and listening intently to the goings on she'd clearly been missing out on. When Margo had taken on the bar Nona had pictured spending much more time there than she currently was. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but learned more toward the idea it was neutral and she'd eventually get back around to boozing it up with everyone when things slowed down.

She actually choked, almost spitting the wine out of her mouth as Margo explained the latest development with Nate covering her mouth with the back of her hand she tried not to giggle and suffocate at the same time, dabbing at her lips with the tips of her fingers, "Haven't you two ever heard of locks?!" The casual tone Margo used to describe the whole thing was hilarious. She could almost picture it but didn't really want to and quickly latched onto the next set of facts to come her way, "Redhead hmm? Was she tall?" she had some vague idea that Aisling was seeing someone new but hadn't realized just who he was because, well, because she was the worst kind of cousin and friend lately.

Lips twisting into a wry smile she shook her head, "Aye, but they're so damn pretty, can you really blame them?" She was happy they were so happy together, though it didn't keep her from fondly reflecting on the hazy memory of jumping in the middle of the lanky Storm and catching him so off guard he copped a feel. That had been a truly hilarious night, which of course made her thing of Elixa and a soft sigh escaped her lips. She hadn't seen much of either of them since Samhain. Maybe she ought to fix that, stop coming home to her fizzy potions and head out to the bar, "any idea who's showing up tonight? Maybe I'll go put on something short and delicious."

 “Oh yes,” Margo snorted at her reply, “I forgot how hard being the Lord and Savior of the Werewolves was, forgive me.”  She rolled her eyes with a good natured grin.  First and foremost, Margo knew that working in the ministry did not need to a life consuming thing.  Hell, she had done it for years and managed to have the most fun possible.  But, she guessed Nona felt a little differently about it, and about her line of work.  Margo had never really seen herself as saving the dragons… at least not until the epidemic stuff, then certainly.  Going to Australia, getting the vaccine and learning to administer it had been quite the adventure.   “You just need to make time for a life,” Margo finally announced, trying to come up with a better solution. 

If she made the time for it, Nona was little and cute – didn’t guys like that sort of thing?  Granted, Margo was tall and kind of scary and she never seemed to have any problems, but she’d been told that had to do with confidence more than anything.  She had ample amounts of that, for sure! 

As evidenced by her story, and reaction to Nona’s surprise.  “We like to live on the wild side, I guess,” Margo shrugged, “and Callie[1] was with her other grandparents.  You have to take opportunities when they’re there.”  That was the weirdest thing Margo had ever said.  She was really only just getting used to the fact that she considered Callie when making plans with Nate.  It was even worse when she looked forward to seeing the weird kid and meowing at her in fake, cat conversation.  It was too strange.

So, changing the subject was much better.  “Maybe?” Margo shrugged, “Didn’t see them standing much,” she admitted.  Unlike Balfour and Johann who were constantly up and sometimes dancing or just continuing to drink.  Margo loved when the bar was filled with her friends, that was one of its main purposes really.  Beyond something that would keep her busy now that she wasn’t a field worker anymore, it was a way to stay connected with the people she had come to see as her family.  “You should come!” Margo threw her hands up. 

“Forget about being a saint for a night, change into something skanky and get your arse down there.  I’m sure there’ll be a good crowd – level 4 mostly, maybe some level 2,” She shrugged and reached in her pocket to pull out her watch, “If you take less than twenty minutes, I can wait for you.” 

1.	Nate’s daughter

"Oy," Nona bristled, but in an exaggerated way that meant she clearly hadn't actually taken offense to what Margo was saying; though she did let the indignant noise hang in the air for a moment as she drained half her glass in one go. "I never called myself their Lord and Savior. More of a Goddess if anything," she gave a flick of her hair and fluttered her eyelashes.

She wasn't really that self important, but it was hard drawing lines at the end of the day for her. She got invested in her cases, she got angry on the behalf of the people she was trying to help - and there was just never enough help to go around. Shona starting the mentor program was amazing and had helped so much but at the end of the day there still weren't enough resources to go around.

Nona's eyes flicked up from her glass, eyebrow arching at the tone Margo's voice took on when she said Callie's name. Her lips turned up at the corners but she didn't say anything. Margo liked her, she liked Nate's kid. That was such a big thing but Nona knew inherently if she pointed it out Margo would dismiss it as nothing. It was sweet though and it made Nona inexplicably happy that her roommate seemed so content with Nate.

Draining the contents of her glass she hopped off the counter, "Twenty might be rushing a miracle but then look what I have to work with," she gave a flick of her hair and scurried off toward her bedroom, "keep talking to me though, tell me about everything else. Getting ready alone is never any fun."

Margo snorted.  She could not believe what Nona was saying.  “I wasn’t aware that was a title in your wing,” she put her hands on her hips.  “Explains some of the things that go on over there,” she added with a little smirk.  It was not a secret that Level 4 had its camps, to some degree, and more than that, the werewolf wing had its issues.  Surprisingly liberal recently, it hadn’t really cultivated a reputation for being progressive in the long run.  At the very least there seemed to be some improvement, considering recent voting trends (thank Merlin for that). 

She declined further comment, however, because it wasn’t conducive to getting out of the flat, which Margo really needed to do.  She was sure Dorsey and Jamal were already there, prepping and setting up for an evening of service and she liked to be there before the rush started.  Raul gave her a look when she wasn’t.  But, she supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal if she was a couple of minutes late, especially not if it meant she’d be dragging her roommate out.

Nona could use it.  She worked a lot and what was a bar for but blowing off steam? 

Pushing herself to follow along, Margo shrugged. “I think you can manage – I mean, it’s kind of dark inside anyway,” she pointed out.  The interior was meant to be a little dive-y, “and it’s only ministry people.  Don’t need to disco out,” she didn’t really know HOW to talk about putting on makeup or anything glitzy.  Her version of dressed up was red leopard print and leather pants, for goodness sake.  So, the idea of taking longer than twenty minutes really blew her mind. 

“But let’s see… what else can I tell you?”  Margo leaned on the wall opposite Nona’s room and crossed her metal ankle over her actual one, tilting her head back to consult the back of her brain.  She hummed for a moment and then pursed her lips, “Don’t suppose you’ve heard of the dragon breeding initiative?” she asked with a grin, “Vincent and Al have mentioned it once or twice.” 

What else was there? “Oh, and granian born at the Woolfolk stable what, last month?[1] I think Big G oversaw that,” she wrinkled her nose, trying to remember if it was him or Elliot… Ah well, hardly mattered.  But, speaking of G, “you still talking to him?” 

1.	The Edge of Night

Nona just rolled her eyes and let Margo's comment about the Werewolf wing fade. She couldn't think about work and doll herself up at the same time. Firstly because while she was great at multitasking those particular tasks took up different parts of her brain, and secondly because it would actually just make her too sad. Nona had a lot of guilt about the life she'd been afforded. It was why she put so much of herself into the job. Some people were born with luck on their side, so people had to fight tooth and nail to survive.

Technically she could have swapped out her blazer for her favorite leather jacket and worn what she had on. It was a cute little shift dress but the pale pink didn't feel right for D&C. "I have never Disco'd anything in my life," she lied through her teeth. Just give Nona an excuse to wear sparkles and she was all about that life. Still, that wasn't the right vibe for the bar either. She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard. It was hard to strike that perfect balance of I care that I'm attractive and I need every person in this place to ALSO care that I am attractive.

Removing the days jewelry she thumbed through her closet, tossing various pieces on the bed as she went while also trying to wiggle out of her dress and slip. She pocked her head out from the wardrobe, "I haven't run into Al much lately, but I've heard the murmurs around the office. She pressed her lips together at the mention of 'Big G' expression innocent as she shrugged one shoulder, "We're not not talking?"

Finally free of her dress she moved toward her makeup mirror and spritzed the air with her favorite perfume, managing a small turn through the mist as she paused to catch her reflection and lightly poke at her stomach for a moment, "We both got busy. I haven't heard from him since...February I guess?" Pursing her lips to one side she shook her head and tried not to let her mind wander too far down that path. She had really liked G, really enjoyed being with him but life happened. It wasn't as though they'd had some massive falling out.

She did miss him though, a little bit... just not enough to make the first move to reestablish contact. Asking for someone's time meant they could tell you no and being told no after asking felt too much like begging. She pulling on a little black curve hugging number and turned her back toward Margo, holding her hair up, "zip please. I have not yet become a master contortionist." She glanced at her reflection again and gave a short nod of her head, "lipstick touch up and some vague hair fluffing and I should be good to go."

Margo raised her eyebrows when Nona indicated that she and Big G weren’t not talking. That meant things were uncertain.  Margo didn’t like uncertainty.  As much as she could live in the grey, if things were murky, she usually sought to remedy that as soon as possible.  “Sounds confusing,” she commented honestly, making a frowning face as she continued to listen.

Busy, and almost a month of nothing?  Margo didn’t wait that long.  But, she wasn’t Nona and she wasn’t in the situation.  She didn’t really know what it was like, she also was of the mind that letting things linger longer than they should was not really the way of the world anymore (see the Bagnold dilemma), but Nona could handle it.  She was scrappy and, for the most, emotionally with it.  Margo was glad she didn’t have to worry about coming home to a sobbing roommate.   Dealing with emotional people was not Margo’s strong point. 

Sauntering forward, Margo was surprised when she was summoned to zip.  That was quick.  It was a relief that Nona decided to take her advice and stay away from putting too much effort in, but also listened on the skanky bit, well maybe sexy.  She didn’t really know the difference.  Margo wasn’t the roommate one would consult if it were style advice one was after. 

She held the zip down with her metal hand and started pulling the tab with a smirk, “You should probably work on your stretching though,” Margo informed her as she pulled the metallic tab upward, “I hear contortion is a valuable skill for a proper night out.”  She stepped back and slapped her hands together, before lacing her fingers and letting entwined hands fall.  The makeup thing was beyond Margo, but she was willing to let it slide.

Stepping back, she sighed and unlaced her hands, itching her right temple.  “Hop to it,” she encouraged.  “Places to see, people to do,” she smirked, “or, you know, the other way ‘round. I won’t judge.”   

It was confusing, for other people mostly. Nona was of two minds about the whole thing - on one hand she didn't want to fall into the trap her mother had (though obviously her mother didn't see it that way) and on the other the idea of being so vulnerable with anyone was just terrifying. She was good at loving people, she was good at caring very much about their well being... but she wasn't so good at letting them care back. She didn't like feeling as though someone was looking after her, mostly because she could bloody well look after herself. She didn't want to end up married with a brood of children because of all the things she might miss out on. Plus, how could you ever really be completely happy with just one person? She was sure there were people like that and for them she was happy. She just didn't feel like one of them.

She glanced over her shoulder and smirked at Margo, "I have other attributes to ensure I have a good night out," her tone was teasing as she threw in a wink before heading to their shared bathroom, little makeup bag in tow. Really there wasn't much she needed to do, a little darkening of her liner and a shade deeper red for her lips later and all that was left was trying to find some way to tame ginger waves after letting her hair down from its immaculate braided crown. After a few minutes fussing and one or two throat clears from the other room she wound half of it into a knot and secured the temperamental strands with enchanted bobby pins before pulling on her favorite heels and grabbing a tiny clutch, "Alright then let's get going. I need a proper drink."

fin