The days following her release had been some of the most emotional and hectic in her life.  A good deal of the experience was still a bit of a blur, to be honest, and she had been going in and out of treatments for the removal of venom from her system as well as the damage done to stomach because of the almost consistent exposure to harmful ingredients.  On top of that, aurors were in and out, trying to extract information, but every time she even seemed to remember something, it would either disappear or illicit pain from the mark on her wrist.  It was a bit of dark magic, an auror told her, but they couldn’t exactly determine what type had been used so attempts at a counter curse might have only caused more damage. 

Tulojow had bandaged it up for her though, kept it so she couldn’t see it, and checked the burn often to apply different salves to attempt to heal it faster.  She had been beside herself when she finally came to the realization that it was her own wand that had been turned against her.  It was gone now, which made things incredibly difficult.  There was something about that she just wanted to remembered – she wanted to tell, but couldn’t.  She could hear the garbled voice and see her wand pointing at her and then the sensation of pain, but nothing else.  Whenever it got to that point, it just clicked off – like the whole thing ended there. She racked her mind trying to find what was lost – but it was more often than not an overly emotional and fruitless task. 

It was all very frustrating, so when familiar faces came in and weren’t pressing for information or trying to get her to really dig deep (as much as she tried, it was very hard and usually resulted in tears), she felt a lot better.  Physically she was feeling better as well, finally able to eat and drink made a huge difference.  She was still wary of who brought her food and felt as though she would get ill when she so much as smelled an egg, but otherwise, she was improving.  Her face had filled in a little (she checked the mirror quite a bit), and she was getting her strength back.

In addition to regaining her strength, Akiva had decided after the incident that she was abandoning her blonde hair.  She had suffered enough stress to ruin what she had worked on keeping together for a long time and reverting to her natural, more demure shade seemed to be the best option.  It helped her blend more, and having instructed one of the aurors with a wand to help her, it was restored.  She felt a little bit better with even that, just knowing that a distinguishing feature was gone and she could safely blend in a crowd again.  It was one of the motivators to actually go out of the home she had been staying in for the past several days, to get air and exercise as well as feel comfortable in a group.

She was quite excited to be able to get out of bed and to walk around, especially out of doors.  Tulo had decided it was acceptable for her to go to the village when she was feeling alright and Akiva just needed to get out.  She had been allowed to owl Frank, sending him a message that she was feeling better and allowed to have visitors that were not her parents or ministry officials.  It was nice to have that ability now when for the past few days she was confined and subjected to a series of interviews that only resulted in tears.  It wasn’t all bad, of course, seeing as she had some more pleasant visits amongst the hard ones, but here she was able to meet people on her terms. 

Her terms involved the three broomsticks and her best male friend.  When she arrived, she had to admit she was rather tired (the walk was longer than she thought), and she found the booth she had specified to Frank.  She dropped into the booth unceremoniously, looking to the waitress as she walked over.  The woman looked a little sympathetic but didn’t say anything out of the ordinary and Akiva politely requested a mug of butterbeer and a water.  She smiled softly as the woman walked away and she sighed, glancing at her watch – glad to have a few minutes to catch her breath and herself before he arrived – she wanted to look put together, to at least give the appearance she was recovering in a timely manner.  She felt a little better yes, thanks to Tulojow, but wasn't at 100% either.

Frank probably looked about as ragged as he felt. Though perhaps the tussled look was more alluring; he wasn’t really sure. The bedraggled hair, the scruff he had forgotten to shave the past couple days, the shadow of restless sleep under his eyes; it was all there. He felt worn out and wrung dry, though he knew it was nothing compared to what Akiva had gone through. That in itself helped him remind himself to keep it together, that she’d be fine and things would be fairly the same as they had been before.

At least, that was his hope. And Frank was known to be a very optimistic (to the point of being nauseating to some) person.

When he’d first heard that she’d been missing… Frank had felt somewhat responsible. One of those ‘if I would have been watching her like a hawk, this wouldn’t have happened’ sort of self inflicted guilt trips. He’d been a worried mess the first couple of days, and it only got worse. When she was finally found, he’d thought that maybe, just maybe he’d feel better.

Then he wasn’t allowed to go and visit her. Her parents were very kind, keeping him informed, but it was always a waiting game. He’d been slacking at work, something he’d make up for later, though he wasn’t sure how much Fiona was noticing of him as of late. She had her own issues to iron out right then, and with the museum plans coming to fruition… Frank could get by with doing the bare minimum for now while he caught cat naps standing up.

Still, he had thought he’d feel better knowing she was safe. One of the few times he prayed in his life and actually meant it, just to bring her home. Then she got there, and underneath all that suddenly overwhelming happiness that she was safe at last, back and at least in a location they knew of… he felt even worse. All she’d gone through, none of it Frank could really understand. He could sympathize, he could offer a shoulder and a good comedy to watch, but he couldn’t truly put himself in her shoes.

Nonetheless, he’d very nearly run out of the house in his towel when he’d gotten the owl that he could finally see her. And while she might find that amusing (or she would have prior to this incident), he decided to keep himself around long enough to pull on something decent. The dark gray shirt was hastily pulled on, a  wrinkled mess, with a light gray button up collar shirt over that, one button off. The black trousers were thankfully on right, and he’d nearly left the house with his zip down. He’d been in such a hurry, he’d almost forgotten his wand! Hopping around, tugging on his socks and shoes, it was never a very good idea for him to be so precarious with his balance.

A couple stumbles and falls (and a broken vase) later, and he was off to the Three Broomsticks, running his fingers through his too long hair. Too late to give himself a trim, he gave up with it and let it do its own thing. If he’d tried, he’d probably end up with something worse anyway. He’d even remembered some cookies he’d tried baking a few nights before. They turned out rather well, but he had been waiting to enjoy more than a couple.

Stepping in, nearly colliding with a man trying to leave, Frank ushered a quick apology while he dusted his hand off on his pants, the last remnants of the cigarette he’d very nearly swallowed in his haste to smoke it up fading. Licking his lips, he moved to the booth like a kid looking for his favorite teddy bear. And then he saw her, and his heart dropped and lifted at the same time (which was lucky; it meant it was staying right where it was supposed to). He didn’t know whether to let out a laugh or hold back a lump in his throat, and settled for a bit of both, quickly making his way to her (almost running, except unable to with the close quarters).

Tossing the small bag of cookies to the table, he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead before squeezing her almost too tight. After a moment (or a few), he finally lessened up and sat down next to her, rubbing his eyes. There seemed to be a lot of… dust… or dirt particles floating around, getting in and irritating his eyes. Grinning at her, he had too many questions. “I haven’t had a decent meal since… I last saw you.”

His appearance didn’t surprise her.  It seemed everyone came in looking a little worse for wear when she saw them, and though she blamed herself (they clearly wouldn’t let themselves go if she hadn’t disappeared), she couldn’t feel too badly about the whole thing.  After all, she didn’t ask to be taken off the street and certainly didn’t want to have been in that situation for nine days.  But, whatever the case, she did feel badly that he looked a little ragged.  He needed a shave and a haircut, but it didn’t detract from his normal handsomeness. 

She couldn’t hold back the smile either, overcome with the sudden happiness of seeing someone so dear to her.  She felt like she had when her parents walked into the room for the first time.  There was an immediate sense of relief and stability that she didn’t feel when she was by herself or with the people she wasn’t quite as close to.  Though Tulojow was an amazing host and wonderful healer, she wasn’t someone Akiva had spent years and years with, building that comfortable relationship that she enjoyed with someone like Frank.  Returning his hug with as much strength as she could muster, it felt so good to just enjoy a good hug from her best friend.

Sliding over, she let him sit down and she sighed, rubbing her hands against the top of her thighs anxiously.  As much as she was happy, she didn’t want him to be nervous or anything – she was doing better, and his emotion was only going to serve to make her emotional.  She was in a fragile place at the moment, so as soon as he started to wipe his eyes and speak, Akiva didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry herself either.  She settled on chuckling softly and reached over to grab his hand, the fingers were noticeably thinner and her wrist, even under the bandage looked smaller. 

Giving him a bit of a squeeze, Akiva leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of having him nearby.  He also smelled familiar, something she really needed.  Different smells were bothering her for different reasons, the idea of having something she recognized close to her was so appealing, she couldn’t even express it.  She had even taken her mother’s nightshirt to sleep in.  Rubbing her thumb over the back of his thumb, Akiva chuckled again.  “When they let me go home, I’d be more than happy to make some dinner,” she informed him – she’d enjoy feeding someone. 

She looked toward the bag he had tossed on the table with curiosity – it looked like there was something baked inside.  “Are those cookies?” she asked, sitting up a bit to reach over to the other side of the table, “You’re going to make me cry if you baked them for me – whether it’s from the touching sentiment or the taste, we’ll have to find out,” she teased softly, finding it oddly easy to joke with him despite the circumstances.  She was peeking into the bag when the woman returned with the two drinks she had ordered and Akiva lifted her head from the contents of the bag to the two cool glasses on the table.

When she looked at the mug of water in particular, she felt her chest grip a little.  The woman didn’t seem to notice as she had plenty of other people to take care of, but Akiva faltered, looking at both with concern.  She realized she had no idea who had prepared them – and looking at the bar area, she couldn’t be sure what happened – she couldn’t see what had gone into them.  Licking her lips, she dropped the bag of cookies on the table and leveled her gaze at the mugs, looking at Frank.  “I – I can’t drink them.”

It was good to hold her hand, even if it was noticeably smaller than he recalled. Squeezing back, he smiled softly and shifted slightly so she would have a more comfortable lean. Years together helped him know which position gave her less bone to rest her cheek to. Memories of old times flooded back and it was all he could do to keep from letting more dust trap itself into his tear duct. No need for tears, she was safe. At least that was what he tried telling himself.

“When they let me go home, I’d be more than happy to make some dinner.”

Chuckling as light hearted as he could, he moved his thumb, hooking it over hers and pinning it down gently in a little thumb war she had been unaware of. Letting it go a moment later, he took in a slow breath and let it out. “Well good. I was starting to waste away.” Frank’s opinion was that humor could be the best medicine, and he was trying to keep things light hearted for both of their sakes. Lifting his free arm up, he flexed for her, smirking in amusement. “See? Losing my definition.”

“Are those cookies?”

For a moment he’d forgotten them. Blinking and turning his gaze, a little slowly, towards the cookies, he blinked at the bag. Oh, yes, he’d made cookies. A half smile came to his lips as he moved an arm around behind her, resting on top of the back of the bench. Relaxed, he leaned back and drummed his free hand on the table top. “If you have to ask…”

“You’re going to make me cry if you baked them for me – whether it’s from the touching sentiment or the taste, we’ll have to find out.”

Rolling his eyes briefly, he smiled and shook his head. “Sentiment… from me?” In all honesty, he really didn’t know if he could handle seeing her cry right then, and hoped she wouldn’t. If she teared up, he would. That was the truth of it, and he didn’t want to accept it. She was his best friend, the one he laid his troubles on and tried to listen to hers as best he could, who he’d spent more time with than his own mother over the past few years, and who he connected with on a friend level unlike anyone else. Well, clearly, otherwise they wouldn’t be best friends.

So if she lost it… he wouldn’t be far behind. And the Three Broomsticks was too public for that.

“You might as well try it… Last thing that will happen is it’ll taste terrible…” Glancing up briefly as the waitress came back, Frank shifted slightly so his body was twisted barely towards the woman, ordering a butter beer. It looked good in the tall glass Akiva must have ordered. Then he was turned back to her and a slightly blank look came over him. What had he been talking about before? Pursing his lips in thought, he pushed the drinks a little closer to Akiva. Had they been discussing… And then his thought escaped him again, like a fish a step ahead of the fisherman. 

“I – I can’t drink them.”

Blinking, his gaze snapped up to her face and he frowned in slight confusion. “Can’t?” His eyes shifted slowly to the mugs, rubbing his chin in thought before motioning to the cookies. “How else are you going to choke down my attempted baking lumps?” Frank sometimes was left in the dark; things went over his head, and he rarely realized early that he was missing something he shouldn’t be. It was dawning on him, the longer he watched Akiva’s facial features, that he’d had one of those moments.

“I wouldn’t want you to suffer the loss of your manliness,” she teased softly, sincerely enjoying the relaxed atmosphere that Frank offered her.  It was different than when other people visited her.  Granted, she enjoyed all her visits fairly equally, particularly those from the people she cared about most, but the varying responses they elicited in her always amazed her.  With Frank it was like seeing a sibling again, with her parents, well things were to be expected, and with Dree, it was both comforting and exciting.  She felt like there was a lot of promise there, her parents did too, and it was nice to have something so supported and supportive in her life.

Reaching up, she rubbed his upper arm, rolling eyes at him.  He wasn’t the manliest man in the world, but he certainly acted like one sometimes.  Leaning her head against his shoulder again, she just enjoyed the moment before continuing on to the cookies that had been tossed onto the table.  Her appetite was coming back and she knew she could trust Frank to give her something safe – something that wasn’t intentionally going to hurt her.

The same could not be said for the drinks that were placed on the table.  Though she had thought nothing of asking for them, when they were put on the table in front of her, she was immediately brought back to the room – to being on the hard floor and not knowing whether what she was being offered was going to make her wish she was dead again.  Even the condensation on the sides of the glasses reminded her of the experience – of the way the sweat drops dripped down her forehead as she writhed in excruciating physical pain. 

They were brought closer and she recoiled, shaking her head as Frank questioned her.  “I can’t drink them,” she repeated, reaching out to push them away – just barely brushing her fingers against them to get the offending glasses away.  “When I was… when I was away… the drinks…” she wanted to say more, but the mark on her forearm began to burn.  It was usually a dull burn, but sometimes it was sharper than others – they could not figure why - and she gripped at the bandage with a bit of a hiss, shaking her head. 

“I don’t know who made them,” she finally whimpered as the pain ceased.  It was certainly some kind of dark magic, they had reasoned, and masterful in make.  Unfortunately, it was sadistic and cruel, so the genius was useless to the type of people who actually cared about others.  “There might be something in them…” she looked anxiously at the two mugs and wrapped her arms around his, closing her eyes against his shoulder.  She needed a moment. 

“I wouldn’t want you to suffer the loss of your manliness.”

Laughing, he raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you’re looking out for it at least. Someone has to.” Winking at her, he settled against the back of the booth and enjoyed the familiarity of her resting against him. Nine days (and then some, that he hadn’t been allowed to see her) without her company had felt like a lifetime. It hadn’t helped that he had no idea where she was… It was easier to settle into their previous relationship; he wasn’t sure yet what this was going to do to it. Time would tell.

“I can’t drink them.”

He noticed how she reacted and he stopped pushing them towards her, slightly concerned now. Frowning slightly, he bit his lower lip and glanced momentarily at the now pushed farther away cups. She started to explain why, but she was getting upset. Leaning forward when she clutched at the bandage, he wasn’t sure what he could do for her.

“I don’t know who made them… There might be something in them…”

Then comprehension dawned on him. She was worried there was something… in her drinks. His lips parted slightly and he took in a slow breath. Resting his cheek against the top of her head, he moved his free hand to rest on her shoulder, hugging her lightly. “It’s okay, Kiva…” Kissing her forehead, he smiled softly. “Here…” He sat up slightly, reaching out for the first cup. “Let me check it, okay? Test my manliness.” Leaning away for a brief moment so it wouldn’t get too close to her, he took a gulp of the water first, licking his lips after he swallowed.

“That is nice and cold. Probably not quite as tasty as the butter beer.” Glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes, he set the water down and then reached for the butter beer. His hand missed it first, then he glanced to it and grasped it, red tingeing his cheeks slightly. “You know, I’ll be more than happy to test everything for you. Your meal as well.” Nodding, he took a gulp of the butter beer, setting it down and enjoying the flavor before smiling and swallowing. “And that is perfect. I should keep it.” With a fake serious look on his face, he pulled it towards him, with one arm, the one between them going up, holding her back.

“I should double check it, just in case… you know.” Leaning forward, he reached a hand into the bag, pulling a cookie out. “Here… I’ll check this too.” He took a bite of the cookie, chewing it as he lifted the butter beer to his mouth again, nodding to her. “Mmk, lemme try ‘ere.” He washed the cookie down with another small sip of the butter beer, setting it down. Licking his lips, he nudged her gently. “The cookies go great with the butter beer.” With the half eaten cookie in his hand, he took another bite and offered her what was left.

After swallowing, he sighed and put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Akiva. But I’m very glad you’re back.” Hugging her, he smiled and set his half eaten cookie down, dusting his hand off on his thigh. It was his way of saying he missed her and everything that encompassed it without actually saying it and causing some sort of emotional reaction. “You’re manlier than me, that’s for sure.” His smile reached his eyes, the area near them crinkling slightly. What she had gone through, he couldn’t imagine.

She appreciated the fact he wasn’t going to make fun of her for her nervousness.  She didn’t want to appear to be irrational, but they couldn’t be sure.  When he said he would test it, she gripped his arm a little tighter and moved to protest, but he had already grabbed the mug and was taking a sip.  She expected for him to drop it – to hear the crash of the glass and the horrible moaning that accompanied the almost instantaneous pain.  The only thing she heard, however, was him smacking his lips after he swallowed.

Opening her eyes very slowly, she was still afraid that maybe it would react badly – that perhaps his stomach was just a tiny bit stronger than her’s had been.  There was no indication of anything wrong with it though, and he put it down without incident.  Akiva let out a breath, glad to hear that it was alright – but there was still the question of the butterbeer, which he was even more excited about drinking than the water.  She would probably let him have it, come to think of it.  She thought it might be too rich and she hadn’t really been eating things that were heavy for the past few days, afraid of disrupting the healing that was going to go on. 

Frank served to lighten her mood a little as well, especially as he played food tester for her.  He was sweet, far sweeter than other people would have been in the same situation.  She could only imagine some would roll their eyes and just dismiss her fright as silliness, forcing her to own up and just drink.  Thankfully, Frank knew her better than that – and really enjoyed eating.  It was probably one of the main pillars of their friendship, food.  Usually, she was cooking it and he was eating it, but they spent many hours bonding over their mutual time in the kitchen, and here he was, having made a treat for her – though, she noted, he was eating most of one of them.

“You can have the butterbeer,” she informed him, tentatively taking the water and sipping.  It was definitely water.  With a roll of her eyes, the returned to brunette young woman giggled softly, she took the left over portion of cookie and popped it in her mouth, chewing slowly to enjoy the taste.  It was a bit heavy compared to the rest of the food she had been eating, but in a good way.  She sighed softly after swallowing and reached for another cookie, this time a full one.  She liked these. 

Nibbling at the snack, Akiva smiled softly.  “It’s okay – I missed you too.” She really had, she missed everyone, and they all came up often in her thoughts.  Some more than others, she had noted, but Frank was usually there, at the forefront when she wasn’t thinking about her parents or Dree.  She wondered if they had talked or anything while she was gone – seeing as though he had gone to her parents, and she assumed that Frank had as well.  It wasn’t a topic she wished to bridge at the moment, however.  After swallowing another tiny bite, Akiva laughed.

“I don’t think I’m very manly,” she protested, trying to suppress her smile, “tough maybe, but not manly.  I’ll leave that masculine prowess to the men in my life,” she teased, nibbling once again on the snack.  “You did a great job with these, Frank.”  She rubbed his hand again, happy to compliment one of the nicest gestures she had been given since her return (some parties excluded), “Did your sister help?” she teased, taking a bite.  “How is everyone, by the way? I hope they’re doing well…”

“You can have the butterbeer.”

Making a face, he shook his head. “Oh no. Mine’s coming. Remember?” Giving her a wink, he rested his hands in his lap for a brief few moments. She at least seemed to be enjoying his cookies. “Should’ve ordered some milk.” Shaking his head, he sighed at his lack of insight. If only he’d been really thinking instead of just thinking; he had been suddenly parched after seeing her again. It was like finding the oasis in the desert and then drinking to your stomach’s fill. Only after you wish it was wine instead of water.

Can’t have it all, he supposed. At least he felt better with her really next to him. Frank didn’t want to let her leave his sight now, though. That was going to be an issue…

“It’s okay – I missed you too.”

Giving her a half grin, he shrugged and put his hands up in that faux innocent look. “Who wouldn’t?” Nudging her gently against the shoulder, he licked his lips and made a tentative look for their waitress. Nothing yet, but he was a hopeful chap; surely it’d be there the next time he looked.

“I don’t think I’m very manly… tough maybe, but not manly. I’ll leave that masculine prowess to the men in my life.”

Laughing softly, he felt his cheeks tinge a very light red and he shrugged, an amused expression on his face. “Well. I have been working out…” He hadn’t really, but it seemed an appropriate response to such a statement. “Tough as nails, and about as tiny as one too.” It was his way of showing his concern, though he understood, however small, that she would need some time before she was back to where she’d been.

“you did a great job with these, Frank… Did your sister help?’

Making a disbelieving noise, Frank let out a huff and rolled his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest and frowning slightly. “Now… you should know the first recipe I ever cared to learn had to deal with desserts. Like I needed my sister’s help… but maybe she did just a little bit.” The last bit was said under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear, followed closely behind with a wink.

“How is everyone, by the way? I hope they’re doing well…”

Taking in a slow breath, he gave her a small smile, his eyes softening. “We got to the family discussion quick… They’re doing better now.” Everyone seemed to be, now that Akiva was found and accounted for. And relatively safe. There was still some worry and anxiety, but… that was to be expected. “Mum can’t wait for you to come over for dinner, and Isabelle was going on about some new recipe book you might find… intriguing.” Making a face, he realized how boring that all sounded.

Akiva looked at the butterbeer and sighed.  If he didn’t want it, and he wasn’t falling over from pain, it was safe to drink.  But, she wasn’t sure how much she did want it now.  She had water and butterbeer for her, which was a lot to drink.  She hadn’t even thought about it, but she supposed since she was going to be walking back to Tulojow’s, she could enjoy it while it lasted.  The woman was a generous host and she really understood what Akiva was going through at least to some degree.  She also understood that the woman wanted to have some freedom.

Perhaps worse than seeing the drinks be placed on the table without any indication of whether they were safe or not was nothing compared to being unable to leave of her own free will.  She felt cloistered up and nervous when she was instructed to stay in, and when locks clicked and doors shut, it just made her stomach lurch.  She had too much of that – too many times trying to open the door with no hope – if she didn’t logically know better, she would never lock her doors again.  Unfortunately, it was not an option living in London – or anywhere in a modern world.  Shaking her head, the thought was just making her heart hurt a little.

She was having a good afternoon with Frank – she didn’t need to be anxious.  She had already had a mini-attack over the drinks.  Taking the mug in both of her hands, she took a sip of the butterbeer and sighed.  It was worth it – despite her previous anxiety, to enjoy the savory and sweet taste of a warm butterbeer made it all worth it.  The feeling it sent through her was completely comforting and she sighed.  It didn’t help that the cookies were absolutely wonderful and Frank’s usual humor did not leave her wanting. 

“Tell her I say thanks,” she smiled up at him, taking another bite of a cookie to emphasize her point.  She really liked them and he did such a good job.  She could only imagine him and Isabelle in the kitchen together and it made her laugh.  She really liked his younger sister and saw her as a little sister of her own, which worked very well for them, since neither had a sister.  Sometimes they liked to gang up on Frank together, which was always fun, and she would be happy to get back to their family too.  They would have to have a night together, the Katzs and Pratts. 

Laughing softly, she shook her head.  “You have to excuse me for being concerned.  It’s been on my mind recently,” she shrugged.  She was always thinking about how everyone else was doing, knowing that her circumstances hadn’t helped anyone, including her parents and other friends, so it was natural for their conversation to take that road early on.  “I’ll be over as soon as I can,” she informed him, “I’m still on watch and things…” she sighed.  “Not completely back to one-hundred percent yet, unfortunately.” 

Drawing her finger around the rim of the mug, she heaved a sigh and sunk down into her seat a little more.  “It’ll be nice to go home,” she admitted.  “It’s been… a while.”  She shook her head, the amount of days she was gone was extraordinary, and she missed her pets.  She knew her parents would take care of them, but she did think about them, especially Lady.  "I'll have a lot of cleaning to do - all that dust," she laughed, trying to make a joke, however true it was.  That was going to be a terrible misfortune, but it was part of having her own flat - not that she suspected she would be staying in it.  She'd probably stay with her parents for a while. 

"So," she turned in her seat to face him, finally able to approach another topic that was far more directed and away from her experiences in the past few weeks.  "Have you talked to Maggie recently?  Did you ever followup on that tour of London?"  Much better, much less focus on her and a focus on her pseudo-brother's happiness.

Frank watched as Akiva took a sip of her butterbeer, and choked on his laugh as the foam mustache remained on her upper lip. Covering his smirk, he tried to play it cool and innocent, eyebrow raised as if he hadn’t just nearly snorted out whatever was in his mouth through his nose. Even in the darker days, little things helped Frank find that bit of shimmer to hold on to. It helped him cope with things he couldn’t change. He couldn’t change what had happened to Akiva, for example. But he could change how their attitude was right then.

What else was a friend for but making you smile through the worst?  That was Frank’s philosophy, anyway.

“Tell her I say thanks.”

Groaning under his breath, he sighed and made a face. “I can’t tell her that… she’ll just gloat.” A half smirk crept up his left cheek as his eyes rolled back over to Akiva. Isabelle was a lively spirit herself, and got on very well with his best friend. Which often caused Frank some pause for thought, for the siblings, while they didn’t fight often, didn’t always get along. Which side would Akiva pick? He knew which Isabelle would choose. Then again… it might also depend on the subject of the bickering. Frank lost when it came to the kitchen and anything in it.

“You have to excuse me for being concerned. It’s been on my mind recently.”

Rubbing his chin in thought, he slowly nodded as if he was thinking over her statement. “Yes… perhaps…” Finally ending with his pointer and thumb touching tips at the bottom of his chin, his hand rested in his lap and he stretched slightly. “Thoughtful of you to think of others. Your mum brought you up well.” He nodded and listened to her as she said she would be over as soon as possible; he tried to hide the worry from his eyes, but that ‘brotherly concern’ crept in and he couldn’t quite shake it. She was no doubt used to people feeling protective over her, though, so he tried to stem it.

“You’re on your way, Ki. I’m still getting used to the new hair. But you’ll be one hundred and ten percent.”

“It’ll be nice to go home… It’s been… a while… I’ll have a lot of cleaning to do – all that dust.”

Scratching his cheek in thought, he pursed his lips to the side and thought about it. “I don’t know… the dust in my place looks like part of the decoration by now… I’m sure you can pick up on it.” His facial expression eased into a small grin and he leaned a little against her shoulder. “If you’ve got some cleaning to do, though, I’m sure I can help keep you busy.” Leaning back up, he chuckled.

“So… Have you talked to Maggie recently? Did you ever followup on that tour of London?”

His mouth opened slightly as he took in a slow breath and his suddenly guilty look gave him away. He rubbed his burning ears and let out a somewhat nervous laugh. “Ah… Maggie.” Luckily the waitress came back with what had been ordered, and Frank enjoyed a nice, deep gulp of his butterbeer before resting the mug back on the table top. “I haven’t, no. Been a bit… busy.” Then again, wasn’t it a two way street? Yeah. That made it better.

Rolling her eyes at Frank as she licked the foam off of her top lip, she could count on him to act like a first year in that respect.  It was refreshing to a degree, to be around someone who was going to act how he acted no matter what.  It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate people taking care of her and wanting her to be okay, but she didn’t want to be watched and doted on every moment of the day.  It was overwhelming and exhausting, just another reminder of her inability to protect herself. 

She hated feeling completely helpless, just digging up those feelings from dropping out of school and being so far removed from the world for so long.  Sometimes it really infuriated her when they thought she couldn’t do it, she didn’t know how she had been taken, but she knew it wasn’t because she could have protected herself.  If she had the opportunity to use every resource, she would have… These sudden thoughts made her aggressively wipe away the smear of foam on her top lip and sigh exasperatedly.  Usually, it was hard to rile her up, but the recent emotional and physical traumas made her a little more susceptible to stronger emotions. 

“You’re on your way, Ki. I’m still getting used to the new hair. But you’ll be one hundred and ten percent.”

She was far more able to laugh when he brought up her hair.  Reaching up, she brought a strand in front of her eyes and smiled as she examined it.  “I’m getting used to it too,” she admitted, “it hasn’t been this way for a decade.”  She thought back to the pictures her parents had on the mantle and shook her head.  It was really strange to imagine she had been blonde for ten years.  The disconnect from eighteen to twenty-eight was almost impossible to comprehend when she really thought about it. 

His sweetness was impossible to deny though, and she kissed his cheek, hugging around his shoulders, hanging there for a moment.  It was just nice to be around him.  A devious little smirk curled the corners of her lips.  “If you want, when I get my new wand…” a faltering pause halted her speech for a minute, it was still hard to accept this.  She closed her eyes and sighed to realign her thoughts, bringing back the cheerful, teasing smile, though slightly muted.  “I’ll dye your hair for you… maybe a lovely shade of pink or perhaps a bright yellow for your alma mater.” 

“The status of your flat as a dust museum was established three years ago,” she retorted with a bit of a snort, teasing him on the subject.  Men were not the best at cleaning, though she had to admit, some women seriously lacked in the skill as well, and Frank was not one of those oddities that liked to keep things spotless.  No, he was not the sort at all and the permanent sheen of dust over the tops of cabinets and in the harder to reach spots did not surprise Akiva in the least, she had seen evidence of it – but she wasn’t going to clean his place.  She wasn’t his mum, after all. 

What did surprise her though was the fact he wasn’t getting on with asking this girl out.  It upset her, chiefly, because he needed to have a life of his own and he needed to get out there and it had appeared, to her, that Frank liked her.  “You can’t be that busy,” Akiva levied at him before she took a sip of water, licking her lips, looking at the glass in the contemplative fashion that a woman who was preparing to give a good deal of advice. 

“I mean, if you don’t like her – that’s fine,” she started, wanting to put that on the table.  She wasn’t going to press him about it if he didn’t think she was his type, “but if you like her – I think you should go for it.”  He couldn’t call her a hypocrite either now, since she had a boyfriend of almost four months and was quite – well, she could actually say she was happy with him.  She liked him a good deal and wanted to see where it was going to go.  "I think it would make you happy," she furthered, and added, with a rueful smile, "and I wouldn't have to cook for you quite so much."

Frank felt a little bad for acting like a silly kid when she seemed to get irritated, the sigh and hard wipe. Frowning slightly, he lost that grin a bit, glancing down at the table. Perhaps poking fun wasn’t a good idea right then. She had just had quite a traumatizing experience, thankfully was back, but that didn’t stop… the emotions. The feelings and memories, or in most of her case, the lack of. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced her way, giving her a small smile.

“I’m getting used to it too… it hasn’t been this way for a decade.”

Glancing to it as well, he pursed his lips in thought and tilted his head slightly. “Has it been that long? Hm…” Shrugging a little, he grinned at the cheek kiss. Wasn’t she sweet. Hugging her back, he enjoyed it, sighing. Then she started talking again, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, eyebrows raised at her offer. Dye his hair. A dry chuckle escaped before he blew a quick, forceful breath in her direction as if she were a fly. “Because that’s all I need. We’re closer to matching now.”

“The status of your flat as a dust museum was established three years ago.”

“I should start charging for admission… I could tell stories about some of the dust bunnies, how they came to be, little folk lore about it…” He was really getting into this concept. Sometimes his imagination was just a little too powerful. “I like it, though. I think it adds some… character. Shows that someone lives there.” Or that’s what he thought. He didn’t mind keeping things clean, but dusting… Merlin that was a painful chore.

“You can’t be that busy.”

Letting out a breath, he saw her look at her glass and rolled his eyes a little, making a face at his own mug. It didn’t stop the blush that overtook his cheeks. He supposed he wasn’t so busy that he couldn’t have at least owled, but she hadn’t found time to do the same… so… That was just a cop out, and Frank knew it. Just seemed… easier to say it was both of their faults than to take responsibility. He felt like acting a bit childish on this one.

“I mean, if you don’t like her-”

“No it’s not like-” He let out a breath as she continued, shaking his head as he looked up from his drink to her face.

“- that’s fine… but if you like her – I think you should go for it… I think it would make you happy… and I wouldn’t have to cook for you quite so much.”

He frowned at that and took a gulp of his butterbeer before resting his hands, clasped, in his lap. She knew he could be a bit shy. Reaching up, he scratched his cheek, sighing. He wasn’t his brother. He didn’t have the smooth talking down. He was lucky if he made it through a few sentences without screwing something up completely, especially if it had to deal with the opposite sex. Sure it would make him happy, but then there was the possibility it wouldn’t. “What about you and…” His mind went blank as he tried to recall the guys name. His eyes widened briefly before he grasped it; he was better with faces than names, really. “Dreogan?” Even that had come out slow and drawn out, making sure he got it right. He seemed to be treating her right, at least, so Frank couldn’t have any real worries about him.

He was fairly happy in his life without the added drama of a relationship. At least that was what he told himself. He was too busy for it as well; how could he put someone through the lack of time he’d have to give them? Just seemed rude. Plus he was terrible with analyzing situations that didn’t need it. Easier to stick to Akiva.

 “I don’t know,” she laughed, “I find it to be a mark of someone not being around.  You know, dust settles and – I guess I can’t be surprised.  You work too hard.”  She poked him in the side as a warning.  She always seemed to find that those closest to her were more dedicated to their work than they were to taking care of themselves.  It was probably why she was constantly packing at least three lunches a morning just to make sure that everyone was being properly nourished.  That was before though, she would resume the practice when she returned to her own flat.

She couldn’t wait for that, really.  It was going to be such a pleasant experience and she would be able to enjoy her own bed, her own space.  She had asked Dree if he could put up a few things for her, protect it a little, for her sake, and it was going to be fitted with protection.  She was happy, very happy, with all of that, and even happier now that she wasn’t completely confined to the house. 

One small gesture of freedom was all she had asked for and it was wonderful.  Almost as wonderful as Frank’s cheeks lighting up and he actually dropped his face, shaking his head.  That was just a little disconcerting!  She knew he wasn’t the most outgoing of men and had trouble asking girls out – but he had done it once.  It should have been easy enough for him to do it a second time.  Taking his hand, Akiva gave him a squeeze, “You’re a great catch, Frank.  Anyone who disagreed, I’d fight with them!”  she teased, bumping his shoulder with her own. 

“What about you and…” he paused and then started to draw out what he thought was his name “Dreogan?”

“Dreogan,” she smiled, indicating that he had actually said it right – she was glad too, correcting people on his name was always a little strange, “and I are doing quite well.”  She could have spoke volumes about how they were doing.  How happy she was with him and after hearing from Adon, she was trying to keep understanding and going with things in the proper direction.  She didn’t want to ruin things, especially now, and sought to do whatever she could to make things right in every way.  The steps were small, but they were paying off. 

She thought so anyway, and there were no indications other than the scare with Adon the other day that things might have taken a turn south.  “I’m really happy with that part of my life,” she was careful to word things the right way.  She was happy with that, but had other things to be absolutely miserable about.  Looking down at her wrist for a moment, there was one of them.  “And he’s a great guy.  You have to meet him soon,” she declared, hoping that he would be up for it and really like him.  Akiva felt good about it, her parents clearly did too, and she wanted her best friend to think that way too. 

She also wanted him to be happy.  “I suppose what I should really be asking you,” she looked up at him from under her thick, dark lashes, “Where did you get your cookie recipe?  I'm not going to rest until I know how to make these," she held up another and took a bite with a happy sigh.  "Heaven!"