Christmas was coming up quickly but, this week, that was far from Ballentyne’s mind. She was far more concerned with throwing herself into her work and making sure that her first week went without much of a hiccough. There had, of course, been the uncomfortable reunion with Bagnold yesterday morning, and the facing down of a number of disgruntled colleagues none too happy with a werewolf and former WCU head in charge. It was only Wednesday afternoon and she was tired and ready for the weekend coming. That was what being out for 3 years with an injury did to your stamina!

It was just after lunch time when Bruce found herself being directed to enter Solomon Carstairs’ office. In all honesty, she had no real memory of him from before when she’d worked at the ministry. But then, she’d not really looked past her own team and her own duties.

Thanks to Zora, she knew five things about Solomon Carstairs.
1.   He’d been the Head of the DMLE for just over a year. He was an auror before that.
2.   He was slick (Iona still wondered if that meant his hair, or if he was snakey).
3.   He had a desk for a wand (whatever that meant).
4.   He was condescending and patronising (perhaps highly bias).
5.   He was ‘ugh’.

Certainly, not the best information to go on, and she clearly remembered that evening in October when Zo had come home and used a fair few more colourful adjectives to describe her boss’ boss.

All in all, Bruce was looking forward to meeting the slick condescending wizard. She now had in her mind a wizard with greasy hair and pinstriped dress robes. She thought he would be tall and smarmy, fixing her with a grin that said “I’m a condescending man, please fall for me and laugh at my terrible jokes”.

Today, having told Waverly where to stick her curling iron (in a motherly manner, of course), Bruce looked more like her usual self. Her red curly hair bounced excitedly as she stepped through the door held open by Carstairs’ young assistant. In her right hand, she held a thick leather-bound file, bulging at the seams. In her left hand, she gripped the familiar wooden cane.

“Mr Carstairs.” Bruce greeted, glancing across the office to the wizard she’d heard five facts about. She offered him a quick smile. “Thanks for making time to see me. I know Level 2 is a busy place.”

It was that time of the year again, the month in which Solomon direly wished he could split into two so that his duties and Christmas shopping might both be accomplished without too much stress. He had finished the latter just yesterday but the former was forever rolling onwards - criminals did not rest and neither would he, at least not for very long anyway. It came as something of a surprise when he saw Ballentyne 's name on today's appointments list. Level four didn't usually have much reason to talk outside of messes like the London Zoo.

             "Thanks for making time to see me. I know Level 2 is a busy place."

The witch who walked through the door was not a familiar sight. From what gossip he knew, she wouldn't be anyway. The cane was a relatively recent feature. So, for that matter, was the notion of a werewolf heading the Werewolf Wing. He set aside the folder he'd been reading - tomorrow's preparation for Reid's exorcism - and stood up to gesture at the chair across.

He had foregone robes for a pinstripe vest over shirtsleeves, on account of being asked by his son to lunch in muggle part of town. Earnest was peculiar to a fault. Solomon smiled at Ballentyne.

"Something we have in common with four," he replied smoothly. "Please, sit. You've caught me at a good time. We haven't quite gone to hell just yet, or at least none of my aurors have come in to tell me otherwise."

Solomon resumed his seat, hands on the armrest and mild interest in his eyes. "How may I help you today, Iona?" How odd it felt to say that name and not mean the other Iona - the other Iona who, if they were fortunate, would no longer be Iona in the present tense at all.

Pinstripes! She knew it. Check.

At least he stood to greet her. Polite enough.

No offered handshake. Check. But then, her hands were full. Couldn’t judge on that one. Uncheck.

Offered her a seat. Well she wasn’t going to stand for their meeting! Check.

A tiny joke. Or was it? Bruce smiled as she dropped the folder on the desk with a thud.
“Would they tell you?” Aurors, notoriously secretive blighters.

First name terms! Bruce had yet to see Mr Condescending Ugh that had been painted by her wife’s words over the past year.

“Bruce. No one calls me Iona.” Except her wife.

Bruce took the seat and rested her cane against the desk. “As you’ve probably guessed, I’m just catching up on a few years of developments in the Werewolf Wing. Most recently, the reappearance of direwolves and the events that went down in London this month. Your Head Auror agreed to work with Bagnold and ask for volunteers to aid with longer monthly patrols for December and January. We don’t have enough man power for the extra hours now needed. I’m asking for something more vigorous and long term.” And here began the part of Bruce’s new job that she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to. Before, she’d always just about managed to get by without rubbing up with the big wigs. Now it was unavoidable.

“Trevelyan is already working with us, but we could use a couple more of your more experienced involved.” She glanced down at the folder, prepared to break out it with her research and argument if necessary.

Bruce! How terribly... Scottish. He wondered briefly if she was some relation of a Spectre, with hair that red, but dismissed the idea. There wasn't much else to suggest a connection, though one could never tell with wizarding families. Merlin knew that the Carstairs themselves branched off into other groves.

            "We don’t have enough man power for the extra hours now needed. I’m asking for something more vigorous and long term."

Even as she spoke, he reached for the folder on his desk that contained reports from the last full moon. It had been quite a feat of paperwork to manage it; cases that fell into the purview of multiple departments required late nights at the desk and later ones outdoors for his red robed crew.

"Aurors specifically, or patrolmen?" Sol asked and flipped open the folder to scan its opening remarks, eyes thoughtful behind his gleaming spectacles. "Either way, you can have them. I would normally hesitate but Tawse was involved in the zoo incident, and where there are dark wizards..." he trailed off with a grim smile. Where there were dark wizards, there must be aurors.

It didn't surprise him that Pratt and Trevelyan were cooperating. Direwolves were nothing to laugh at and Cinaéd Tawse, though his motives were vague at best, was high on their Wanted lists now that the likes of Almasy and Musgrave were settled. He'd been quiet for too long. Why couldn't these pureblood bastards just stay quiet?

Solomon looked up from his reading, "Roh would be a good fit, rather experienced. I'll see who else we can dredge up," he shrugged. "Have you been in touch with your Beasts division? I daresay they can afford to add handlers to your count as well. Every bit helps, I'm sure."

The handlers, at least, were equipped for werewolves and direwolves in a transformed state. If they could just keep in mind that the 'creatures' in this case were actually people.

When Carstairs took the folder, Bruce found herself relaxing marginally. He wasn’t giving her a smarmy smile, and while he may have been wearing the predicted pin stripes, he wasn’t acting condescending. In fact, he was actually agreeing to what she’d asked for. Ballentyne had entered this office expecting to have to defend her request and lay down all the information and supporting evidence for why he should help them out. It was a relief to not have that as the case.

“What you can give us.” Bruce answered his question with a shrug. They needed extra bodies. Bodies to knew how to handle themselves around werewolves. She didn’t want doe-eyed rookies with no field experience, that was her only real requirement.

Carstairs then offered up Zora.
Nope, there was another requirement.
Bruce did not want her wife on the case. No way.

Her eyes widened and she couldn’t censor her reaction before she pulled a face as if in pain. Iona loved her wife. Adored her. But after their first time in the field together almost two decades ago, both she and her auror girlfriend had decided that they would never work together again.

“Roh’s not a good fit.” Bruce stated with a shake of her head and a frown. “I’m not going to work with her. She’s never going to follow orders from me, and I’m not going to put Bagnold through that, either.” Was Carstairs married? Would he want to work with his spouse? “But yes, thank you. I’ve spoken to Spectre. But as you say, Tawse is involved. That makes it Level 2’s remit, doesn’t it?

The disdain for Roh was unmistakeable . It was a shock, of course, because Zora was good at what she did and outside of some horrible publicity decisions, there was no reason she wouldn't be a good fit for this particular mission. Was there perhaps a falling out between the two? Solomon frowned - come to think of it, he wasn't familiar with Roh's opinions on werewolves or werewolf rights.

Having a department head married to one did rather keep unsavoury opinions out of his view.

"Not follow orders from you? Why in Merlin's name wouldn't she?" he gestured with his wand, office door swinging open, and barked out a quick order for the auror to be called in.

Having Pratt winging about vampires was more than enough, did he have to send Zora to Pickler's as well? The wizard glanced back at Ballentyne, pressing on before she could say anything else. "I'll loan you the aurors but do take a handler or two from Beasts. They use the same tools of trade and most of them have dealt with dark wizards in the war."

At least, anyone worth their salt. Solomon wasn't taking risks with Tawse. He had learned from past mistakes that to work on barebones wasn't enough.

"Now let's see if we can get this nonsense sorted out with Roh."

"Not follow orders from you? Why in Merlin's name wouldn't she?" Carstairs was distinctly taken back by Bruce’s response about not working with Zora. Iona frowned, pressing her lips together. What moron would want to mix personal and professional? She didn’t get the opportunity to ask him that, because suddenly the door behind sprung open and he was barking orders for someone to get Roh there. Was this some sort of intervention? Iona was thoroughly lost now.

He continued to talk, insisting on her taking Spectre up on his offer. Well that was all well and fine, she would do that. But why the hell had he just called Zora to the office? Was a simple ‘no’ not enough?

"Now let's see if we can get this nonsense sorted out with Roh."

The werewolf hunter turned werewolf blinked. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he might not know about her. She’d been with Zora for twenty years.

“There’s really no nonsense. I just don’t want to work with…” she muttered, stopping when she heard footsteps behind her. Twisting around in her seat, blue eyes fell on Zora in the door, all serious in her crimson robes. Bruce shared a half apologetic/confused smile with her wife. “Roh.”

Zora had been nearby when she'd received the summons by way of Carstairs' young assistant Abby, so it was only a few moments before she was posted up in her boss's doorframe. He was already with someone and that someone had to turn around before Zora registered it was her wife. Iona looked like student sat before a very disappointed Headmaster, looking like she'd just tattled on Zora.

"Bruce ... " Zora mimicked Iona's strange tone, the concern creeping onto her own face.

She was trying to think of what business Iona would have with Carstairs and why everyone looked like someone was getting expelled. It made sense that Iona would be making rounds to get sync'd up with other Ministry leadership, but what did Zora have to do with that, and why did Carstairs looked annoyed? Zora had been rather deft keeping work and life separate, partitioning out concerns, compartmentalizing risk and worry. That is to say, Carstairs and Iona in the same room on her floor was an unfamiliar sight.

She looked away from Iona to Carstairs.

"What d'you need, boss?"

There had to be something between these two, judging from the way they clapped eyes on each other right away. Solomon thought that Roh might have had a more aggressive reaction - based on Bruce's utter refusal to work with her - but she only looked as confused as he felt.

            "What d'you need, boss?"

"An explanation!" he exclaimed irritably, waving a hand at the new head of their Werewolf Wing. "What's this I hear about you not wanting to take orders from Ballentyne?"

Even as he spoke, glancing at Bruce, he wondered if there was something the matter with the situation. Was it a tolerance issue? Or a personal one? The wizarding world was small, and there had been times when two aurors were paired only for it to be explosively discovered that they were exes. On bad terms.

Even so, he expected someone like Zora to be able to maintain some level of professionalism.

Zora's first reaction to getting snapped at by her boss was to go stony. She did that thing she did where she rifled through an internal inventory of her recent work to find something that might have worked its way  up to the big office, something that would chafe their department head, but she quickly came up echoingly empty and what the hell did 'Ballentyne' have to do with it.

She stepped further into the room so she was standing next to Iona. She crossed her arms and looked over at her wife, her affect deadly flat.

"What did you say to him?"

Had Iona told him she couldn't take orders? Or had it come in from another source? Who was walking around talking about their business? And why would Zora be taking orders from Iona anyway?

"I don't know what your'e talking about," she said then to Carstairs.

Well Iona had clearly stuck her foot in her mouth, but she still wasn’t so sure how. Carstairs was clearly irate with Zora, demanding to know why she wouldn’t take orders. Before she knew it, Zora was stood close, arms crossed and looking down at her as if Iona had just told her off.

"What did you say to him?" Zora was asking. Iona’s eyebrows shot up and she glanced between her wife and her wife’s boss’ boss.

“Nothing!” She retorted quickly before frowning and shaking her head. “Well, I said I don’t want you involved with the direwolf patrols, which I don’t.” What on earth was the big problem with that? “You won’t take orders from me. The last time we were in the field together, you nearly screwed it up.” They’d nearly screwed it up together. And this now? This was why they didn’t work together at all.

Iona twisted in her chair to look at the Head of Law Enforcement again. “Not to be rude, Mr Carstairs, but why do you think this involves you?”

If he thought he was confused before, it wasn't anything compared to how he felt now. Roh was perhaps understandably walking into the middle of a conversation but why was Bruce pretending like she hadn't physically recoiled at the very idea of working with the other witch? And what did she mean by last time?

            "Not to be rude, Mr Carstairs, but why do you think this involves you?"

"It concerns me when one of my aurors refuses to take orders from a superior." Sol enunciated clearly, wondering why is it all the grief in his life always involved women! "I hadn't realised that you two had worked together before."

Not exes, they  were hardly incendiary to each other right now. Professional history, then.

"I happen to think Roh would be an excellent addition to your mission," he admitted uncertainly, "but if either of you could give me a reason as to why that arrangement wouldn't work...?" Solomon removed his spectacles and glanced from one witch to the other.

As Carstairs responded, it started to finally dawn on Bruce. The wizard had literally no idea that Zora and her were married. Well Iona knew that her wife valued her personal life being kept well out of the workplace, but her own colleagues knew who her wife was! She’d simply presumed Carstairs had too.

He hadn’t realised that they had worked together before! Clearly, he also didn’t realise that they shared a bed, a daughter and a marriage. Bruce was suddenly looking amused and she bit the inside of her mouth to stifle the smirk that was appearing.

"…but if either of you could give me a reason as to why that arrangement wouldn't work...?" Carstairs requested, clearly very confused. Bruce barely stifled a laugh before jumping in before Zora could respond.

“Can you give him a reason, Auror Roh? No? I thought not.” she looked back at Carstairs. “She’s really prejudice against the Welsh. Offensively prejudice.” Iona avoided the look from her wife. “You would think the werewolf issue would be her biggest problem, but it’s the Welsh accent, apparently. I can’t work with that much hate. I personally would be sending her to our diversity office for some training with Penelope Pickler, but I don’t think she specialises in welshisticism.”

Zora stepped back and looked at Iona with some amount of horror. What in the world was she trying to do? Ruin her career? And look at her! She was having a laugh! Zora was going to kill her. Right here in the office. Between the two of them, Iona was the one with a sense of humor and she was punchy now that she was up and out of the house, but this was beyond ...

She opened her mouth to interject a few times, but Iona rolled blithely on. Undermining her in front of her boss, who actually had made some attempt to support her in front of this madwoman. She looked between them. Carstairs looked like he'd rather be dead. Iona was like a cat with a mouse.

Zora all but stepped between Iona and Carstairs as to stop the flow of humiliation. "We're married," she said hatefully. "Iona is my wife. And we generally prefer to keep things uncomplicated...." Zora tossed her an irritated look before turning back, "by keeping work and personal matters separate."

"But I will do what the job requires, sir," she said, her jaw set with as much professional decorum she could muster.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as Bruce launched into a one-person discourse on the dangers of discrimination against the Welsh. Wasn't this just lovely? Solomon did not think anything could make him wistful for more dangerous days hunting down dark wizards at Albus Dumbledore's behest but, ah, here it was. This was the straw on the camel's back. Merlin take him back to avoiding unforgivables.

Zora stepped in, mercifully. "We're married."

Oh. Married. As in married married. He licked his lips, not quite feeling the expression on his face. Which went from utter bafflement to proper realisation, with all the grace of having been hit by a cast iron frying pan.

"That wo-- that is, um." Sol was trying very hard not to picture them as wife and wife in a carnal sense, which was greatly helped by Roh's apparent irritation. "If I'd known I would have understood completely. Of course I wouldn't put you two through that ordeal unless it were necessary."

May it never be necessary, if this was a taste of what they would be like in a professional setting. He cleared his throat and smiled uncomfortably at Bruce. "I'll find some other names and send you a list of options."