Before a week ago, Akiva might not have considered bringing Frank and Dreogan together to really meet, but the previous Saturday had convinced her that maybe it was about the appropriate time to introduce her best friend to the man she was starting to care very deeply for.  She wasn’t going to jump straight in and say she was head over heels, but she was attached and that meant that if it was going to go anywhere, he had they had to at least get along.  

Why?  Well, Frank was her best friend, a better friend than anyone could have asked for and he was as much part of her family as her parents were in some respects.  Like a little brother, he would need to be okay with it – or persuaded to be okay with it, depending on his outlook.  She already knew how Tamis felt, but that wasn’t as large of a deal to Akiva; she was a tough woman to get along with and did not necessarily get involved in her life too intensely in that area.  She seemed to at least pretend to trust Akiva with the choices she was making in that part of her life.

She thought she was making some good choices, to be perfectly honest.  Dreogan was nothing like George, she was well aware, and hoped that Frank would see that.  She was almost certain he would, but did not want to put any specific labels on it too early – just in case.  She also wanted to meet on middle ground, somewhere that neither of them would consider a place of advantage.  She thought her own flat, but then reconsidered on the grounds that they needed to be somewhere neutral.  That meant she had some thinking to do.

Finally, she decided upon lunch - something easy and non-threatening at an old place in Diagon, the Sword & Chant.  It wasn’t formal during the day and it would be comfortable enough for all of them.  Akiva had been there a few times, though never with either of them, so she was content to know this would be an equal playing field.  She decided to show up first, telling them both the appropriate time to meet her – morning with the parents, of course, and had told them and walked in to claim their table herself.  She picked a corner table and sat so she could be in the middle – best if she was going to be mediator, and took a deep breath, ruffling through her purse as she waited.  

It always helped to ruffle through something and she glanced at old receipts, IDs, and paper money with the coins too – such a mess, she had to clean it.  She let out another sigh and looked up again – then at her watch.  It was hard to keep still – who would get there first?

Dree had tried not to be early. He'd even sat down that morning in his apartment and written another section in an article in hopes that he would be able to lose himself in a flurry of thoughts and emerge from his intellectual frenzy a good 10 minutes late.

Respectable, 10 minutes.

Because he was beginning to be predictable, this 10-minute-early scheme of his. It wasn't as though it was a planned thing. Dreogan just liked . . . to have things under control. To take things into account. And so, as he arrived at the Sword & Chant, he looked at his watch with some satisfaction. Two minutes late. Not anywhere near 10. But still late.

He gave a sigh, however, as he arrived, seeing Akiva sitting alone at the table.

But perhaps it was better this way. He wouldn't feel like the one sidling in this way. Frank would join their conversation. Not the other way around.

Not that this was a competition. Dreogan had stopped feeling threatened . . . about the time Akiva and he had started kissing. Though it did grate him the wrong way, he had to admit, when the old crones at Akiva's work still sometimes smiled at him, calling him "Frank." Once upon a time -- before he'd asked her out -- he'd nearly thrown in the towel and relented for fear of competition.

And now, he was trying to impress the man. This had to go well. Akiva had not said as much, but she needed certain approvals before proceeding. He believed things had gone well with the Katzes. This was, potentially, the last hurdle before she felt fully validated.

Approaching Dreogan leaned across the table to also peered into her purse, a bit of a mischievous smile on his face. "What are you looking for?" he asked softly.

Glancing at her watch, seeing that it was actually about time for either of the boys to arrive, Akiva was surprised that Dreogan was not already there.  He had a tendency to be early which never really bothered Akiva who was also quite punctual (though when they went out it did pose a little bit of a problem, especially if the shoe selection process was not going quite so swimmingly); but, for the most part, it was a happy situation with two people who both liked to be early. 

Now, he was verging on actually being late and for half of a second, Akiva thought she should give pause to think – only to remind herself that being on time or even a minute late was nothing to be concerned about.  There was most likely nothing wrong and he was an adult, fully capable of taking care of himself.  These thoughts aside, Akiva rummaged again through the sea of receipts and loose change, wholly absorbed on the task of finding her compact mirror. 

Her task was interrupted by a soft voice and she immediately started, glancing upward to see his face close to her’s and a smile on his face- she liked to see him smile, particularly after she had seen him so… unhappy.  “Hello to you too,” she greeted with a bit of a teasing smile, putting aside the search for the moment and instead, leaning up to engage him in a very quick greeting kiss. 

Touching the seat next to her to indicate he should sit, Akiva frowned, realizing that she had still not found the object of her deep sea dive into the purse.  Tugging it open again, she pursed her lips and sighed.  “My compact,” she informed him.  “I must have left it at home.” Smiling at him, she abandoned the search and sighed.  It wasn’t like Frank or Dreogan were going to care far too much about a possible smudge or uncovered spot of skin, not that she wore much make-up anyway.  But still, she wanted to be presentable in public. 

Shrugging, she put the purse on the floor under her feet and smiled, “You surprised me today – I thought you’d be sitting here already waiting for me.   I almost started to worry,” she teased, the rueful smile and happy eyes clearly obliterating any indication that she might have been serious. 

Momentarily surprised, Akiva glanced down at the little case he produced from his pocket.  Sidling him a curious glance, Akiva picked it up, feeling the textured case under her finger tips (she rather liked it), and then carefully peeled it open to reveal a smooth, dark surface that appeared to act as a mirror.  Interesting, she thought, that he carried something like that with him, but she shrugged her shoulders and held it up to herface.

As she looked at her eyelashes, she smirked gingerly, “If it wasn’t so helpful at the moment I would question why you have it,” she teased gently, satisfied that everything was in order.  She was more worried about smudges than anything, and with the reassurance that she did not look like a charcoal portrait; she gently closed the dark case.  Once more running her fingers over the textured case.  “Where’d you get this?” she asked with curiosity, turning it over – no indication of its origin anywhere.  That meant it wasn’t bought in a traditional store – now she was even more curious. 

Whatever the case, she placed it on the table and smiled at him, laughing softly.  “You have gotten much more surprising recently, yes.  Keeping me on my toes all of a sudden,” she teased gently, a slightly flirty smile flitting across her features. Her smile did not falter as she shook her head no in response to his question.  “Barely ten minutes,” she noted as she glanced at the slender watch on her wrist, yes, just about ten minutes. 

“How’s your Mum?  Did you tell her I said hello?” she smiled, making small talk for before Frank arrived.  She glanced at her watch again for some reason, wondering when the man would arrive.  Probably got caught up in a flurry of papers or something - quills attacking or something of the sort. 

Frank was proud of himself; he’d actually planned to be on time for this lunch date. He had to, lest he start off badly. From his point of view, this was the test. He had to be there early to assess this guy who had taken up a good portion of his best friend’s time. Some couldn’t deal with him being her best friend either, looking for some hidden attraction that they’d kept secret for years. Some couldn’t accept that platonic relationships were possible beyond puberty.

It just was very rare.

So it had been with great thought that he’d stood in front of his wardrobe and picked out his outfit. He couldn’t be over dressed, and he couldn’t be under. After five minutes, he’d given up on one shirt over the other, finally settling for a white tee underneath a dark gray thin sweater. His jeans were held up with a brown belt, and he thought he looked fairly presentable. A pair of brown boots later, a bit scuffed up from overuse, and he was done.

His fingers racked through his hair, satisfied that it wasn’t completely all over the place, and then Frank was ready to go. He needed a trim soon. A whole twenty five minutes early by his clock! It wasn’t until he was locking up his apartment that he remembered he had to drop off something at the museum. A few curses and fumbled keys later, and he was back in the apartment.

Needless to say, he had four minutes to get to the Sword and Chant after his forgotten errand was done. And when he stepped in, he saw Akiva sorting through her purse. He’d waved, grinning a bit too eagerly—he was happy to see he was first. Of course, she didn’t see his wave, and kept on digging. He’d been about to step forward when an old woman’s voice cut through his attention, making him pause. Frank, being the person he is, turned to the voice, a curious look on his face. “What was that?” Her hat caught his attention first, the point jagged at the top, and nearly as tall as his nose. The witch underneath it was a bit shorter than that…

And it turned out he should have just been un-Frank and gone to the table, because as soon as he gave his undivided attention to the little old woman, she began speaking to him rather insistently. It seemed that she had hired Fiona’s bookhunting skills not too long ago, and had absolutely loved the retrieved book. Frank had tried to slide by with a ‘I’m glad you were satisfied’ response with a look that said ‘I’ve got to go before this new guy shows up.’

She didn’t take the hint. Frank glanced towards the table a little apprehensively, letting out a breath before returning his attention to the woman, her hat once again catching his eye first. It turned out she had another book in mind – clearly she didn’t appreciate how he’d nearly lost a finger trying to retrieve her ‘light reading material’ that weighed at least ten pounds. So many traps had been laid in around it, such a tiny thing he’d thought. And now that same slightly grateful woman wanted another book.

Frank noticed a man walk by him, but didn’t think anything of it. Until he glanced towards Akiva once again and saw a man bent over towards her. The waiter was getting awfully close, wasn’t he? Frowning a bit, it wasn’t until he saw the two kissing (followed by a sudden noise of disgust and facial expression from Frank—completely normal) that he realized the old woman had made him late.

Turning his attention back to her, he finally pursed his lips and pulled out his wallet, riffling through until he found a business card. Handing it over, he gave her a small smile. “Just… contact us with all you know, or we can schedule an appointment. I’ve…” Glancing towards the table again, feeling the woman about to launch into another explanation, no doubt with ‘all she knew,’ Frank finally pointed in the direction. “I do apologize, I’ve got a meeting I’m late to. If you’ll excuse me.”

And with that, he quickly stepped past the hat, giving her hand a gentle squeeze (when had she grabbed on to his?!) before letting it go. Then he moved forward, trying to control his face as he felt the anguish again of not being there first. Still, he forced a warm smile on his lips. “Akiva.” Standing next to the side that he assumed he was to sit on, he glanced to the man (he’d been rehearsing the name so he’d get it right). “And you must be Dreogan?” If he wasn’t, then maybe Frank would have to remind Akiva of kissing strangers who she wasn’t professing as her new flavor. Or whatever he was. Boyfriend? Had it gotten to that stage yet? “Sorry I’m… late.” He glanced momentarily back towards the little old woman he’d left, no doubt huffing over the ‘lack of attention’ he’d given her. All ten plus minutes of it.

“If it wasn’t so helpful at the moment I would question why you have it. Where'd you get this?" she asked as she glanced over her reflection.

He smiled as he watched her. She didn't really have a need for that. Maybe if she was one of those high-maintenance girls that painted their faces, she might have cause for concern. But Akiva always looked like Akiva. "Aleron sent it to me. But it's from Mexico. A scrying mirror," he explained. "It's hard to find a good mirror these days. And I do think it brings out the colour of my eyes." He chuckled softly to himself. The mirror was black.

"You have gotten much more surprising recently, yes.  Keeping me on my toes all of a sudden."

Dreogan smiled back, then glanced at her feet beneath the table. He looked back up at her suspiciously. "I somehow don't believe you, Kiv." Part of him hoped it wasn't. They seemed to have gone back to their comfortable pace of life -- their workaholic tendencies, nights in, visits with family consuming all their time. He didn't very much want that to change. "The same" was good. It was safe. And, well, it was fun. You got to know how to do things and do them well.

“How’s your Mum?  Did you tell her I said hello?”

And Akiva was still bringing his mother into nearly every conversation they had. He smiled and chuckled at this as well. "Yes, I did. And she says 'hello' back. I say that it's time you come over for dinner at her place again. She's been dying to show you some new recipes. . ." And besides. It was better the two talk to each other than through him.

Dreogan paused here as he noticed a man crossing towards them. He began to slow, making eyecontact with Akiva. Ah, and that would be Frank Pratt. Dark hair, dark eyes, but beyond that, there wasn't much of a resemblance. What had those librarians been thinking?

Well, here went nothing. Or everything. Or maybe it wasn't going anywhere.

Whatever the comings and goings, Dreogan smiled widely and popped up to his feet, pleasantly surprised he did not need to recite his name. "Yes; nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand over the table. He shrugged at the matter of time. "Our server hasn't come yet," he reassured by way of observation.

He'd leave the preliminary conversation choice to Akiva. This was her lunch, after all.

Giggling softly, Akiva shook her head at his unusual sense of humor.  “I can see why,” she tilted the mirror toward him, “it also brings out the highlights in your hair,” she teased, knowing full well his hair was strictly black.  Flipping it back toward herself for only another second, she was fully satisfied.  It wasn’t as though she wore a lot of make-up, but what she did wear, she wanted to make sure was right.  She liked to be put together.

It was perhaps a reaction to what had happened, everything had fallen apart to some extent for even a little while and after her panic wore off, she was still dealing with the effects of what happened.  Her memory was still not perfect, particularly in dealing with short term things and planning, she had some trouble with coordination, and experienced headaches more than she had in the past.  It was as though she had gotten a concussion that just wouldn’t heal.  She was assured repeatedly that it was just a side effect of the memory charms and that it was not dangerous to her health, but it was inconvenient.  She had a rather smart bruise on her right thigh from tripping on one of the ladders and jamming into a rung. 

Whatever the case, she liked to have things go well and be together and she was thankfully being accepted – dare she even think requested to come over by his mum.  Her face brightened considerably (if at all possible) and she nodded eagerly.  “I’d love to.  You’ll just have to tell me when,” she said excitedly.  It was a good prospect, and she thought she might add, “Dad has wanted to ask you some questions too – about the prophets, by the way.  Maybe we should all do dinner together?” the proposition was not one she hadn’t made before, but perhaps it would be a good time – as good a time as any, really, just to get everyone in the same place. 

With that lingering in the air, Akiva was pleasantly surprised to see Frank coming over.  Immediately popping up from her seat, turning to him to give him a quick hug, she smiled brightly.  “Frank!” she greeted enthusiastically, leaning back so the men could exchange a handshake – she could already feel the tension of feeling one another out.  Frank was trying to be serious, his voice indicated that, but she was all smiles and Dreogan was pleasant as well, not that she expected anything different. 

Taking her seat, she patted the place next to her for Frank, out of habit, and smiled cheerfully in between them.  She was quite possibly the luckiest girl in the restaurant – two handsome men with her, though she did not say so.  She did not want one thinking ill of the other.  Instead, she  continued Dreogan’s observation in her typical bubbly way, “We’ve barely been here five minutes – so no need to worry about being late.  The menus are under the plates, I believe,” she looked down and saw the slim, leather-bound booklets underneath the white appetizer plates. 

“Both of you get whatever you want, lunch is my treat – and I won’t take no for an answer from either of you.”  She smiled victoriously, opening the menu and holding it in her slender hands – cruising over the whole thing at first, trying to think of something to talk about – she hadn’t realized how awkward this was going to be – and thought the boys would start talking immediately, maybe she could take a different approach.  “Frank – what was that book you were telling me you found a week or so ago?  I meant to make a note about it, but I completely forgot…” she touched her head just barely, indicating her faulty memory, “didn’t you have to go to Egypt to find it?”

“Both of you get whatever you want, lunch is my treat – and I won’t take no for an answer from either of you.”

This sounded good until "my treat." And then not taking "no" for an answer.

Dreogan looked at Akiva dramatically, then conspiratorially at Frank. He wasn't going to let her pay, surely? "How about 'no' for an answer from both of us?" He asked, raising a brow and smirking. "Popular poll!" he pronounced, raising his hand slightly. "No for an answer? Yes or no?"

It was sillier than Dreogan had been in a while -- at least without Gil or Adon there, but it felt nice. And perhaps would get him on co-conspirator terms with Frank. Akiva wouldn't mind a little rebellion if they were working together. He hoped.

At the mention of Egypt, Dreogan's ears pricked. He leaned in a bit more. "Really? I lived there fora time. How did you like it?"

The hug was pleasant, and made him grin, giving her one back before letting her go. That was the type of greeting he liked to receive! More women should throw themselves at him. Then he recalled the alley with Maggie and Iza, and decided that maybe he would just take it where it came to him. Giving Akiva a small wink, he tried to ease back into that formal ‘I’ve never met you but I hear you’re dating my adopted sister’ type of routine. Was he supposed to give the guy a hard time? Not like him automatically because of his relationship with Akiva?

He supposed he didn’t have much experience; anyone his real sister went out with, he was less likely to find out about. She was young, though, and he figured it was good to let her have her fun. What would Dexter do in this situation?

“Yes; nice to meet you.”

Right. Polite. Well that was a start. He couldn’t find a reason yet to dislike the man. Shaking his hand, he nodded slowly—server hadn’t been by then. Good… He needed a good stiff drink after his experience with old women and books. He saw the place Akiva patted, and wondered briefly if he should take it, or sit across from them. Such decisions! She certainly wasn’t making it easy for him. Finally, though, he slid in to the seat across from the couple, worried he was more one sided. Still, at least he could watch them both from this advantage point.

“Both of you get whatever you want, lunch is my treat – and I won’t take no for an answer from either of you.”

Raising an eyebrow at that, Frank was in the process of picking up his menu. Glancing at her, he shook his head. Not that he minded Akiva making him lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever meal she wanted, really. But when they went out… and as much time as she had taken off… it seemed wrong to let her pay for lunch. He’d had a nice little break lately anyway, business seemed to be steady. About to open his mouth in protest, Dreogan beat him to it (another mark on the good board?).

“How about ‘no’ for an answer from both of us? Popular poll! No for an answer? Yes or no?”

He was trying to keep up, he really was. But what was he saying no or yes to now? And would it mean yes or no? Or would it mean no or yes? Finally he nodded slowly, shrugging half heartedly, before laughing and smirking. “I doubt Akiva can wrestle the check from us anyway. She can try. Just tickle her sides, we’ll win easily.” This was the quickest way to make sure this guy wasn’t super jealous. If he could deal with the knowledge that Frank on occasion had touched Akiva enough to tickle her, then that was a good step.

“Frank – what was that book you were telling me you found a week or so ago? I meant to make a note about it, but I completely forgot… didn’t you have to go to Egypt to find it?”

Licking his lips, he held off on looking over the menu long enough to consider her question, feeling his stomach protest; it wanted to know what it might be fed. “Ah… yes, Egypt.” The book… “Unknown Uses, first edition. Different uses for different… potion ingredients, salves, things like that. Archaic, but simple.”

“Really? I lived there for a time. How did you like it?”

Raising both eyebrows, Frank was slightly surprised. A laugh escaped him and he shook his head, leaning on the table as he finally took a gander at the menu. “Ah… hot. And quite breathtaking. We took a stop by the Nile, a couple pyramids, and a small village or two. Oddly enough, we didn’t go to a pyramid to find the book. It was a rather silly hunt in the red land. Had to do most of our hunting in the late evening to early morning times, so we didn’t overheat and exhaust ourselves.”

Then the waiter was there and Frank sat up a little, making a hand gesture towards Akiva. “Ladies first.”

Akiva couldn’t be displeased with the initial exchange, no; it was going well so far she assured herself.  The men were not exactly jumping at the chance to talk, but they weren’t jumping at each other’s throats either, which was a happy medium.  The unhappy part was the seating arrangement.  Somehow she felt like they were being interrogated by him, sitting on the opposite side, but then again, if they all sat in a row like she anticipated, not much talking would go on, and then it would look even worse if Dreogan was on the other side… oh, she supposed this was the best way to do things. 

She just wanted it to go well and for them to like one another.  They were both important parts of her life at this moment in time and though things were not jumping at the chance to get to know one another, she was confident things were going better than they could have – it could have been far worse.  Granted, it was uncomfortable to some degree for the one person who spoke more than three words in a string, but it was a good start.  She managed to get them talking though, and glancing above the menu (trying not to appear too interested), she smiled softly to herself – nothing to get them together like saying she was going to take care of everything.

Now, she did not immediately anticipate that reaction, but it was a pleasant side-effect of trying to be the one to call the shots.  Dreogan started to speak instantly, and she continued to smile as Frank jumped in.  That was more like it!  She started to frown though when it was suggested that they use force to get the check from her – force that included tickling and well, it was probably no secret that she was ticklish, however, having the two of them on the same side for it – she could just feel her lungs collapsing from laughter.  Scooching away a little on the seat, she glared across the table.  “You might win that battle, but neither of you will win the war.”  She pursed her lips and turned her eyes downward again, allowing them to engage one another.

She listened with one ear to their conversation, glancing at the menu to try and discern what she wanted.  She wasn’t particularly hungry, probably more nervous than hungry, really.  She didn’t have much to add to the conversation since she had never been to Egypt, and though she knew about books – clearly, she knew little of the part Frank dealt with.  He had tried to talk her into it, but Akiva was steadfast on the assertion she had no interest in large and overwhelming adventures.  She had only ever been to the continent, and even then it was only for two weeks. 

Surprised when the waiter actually arrived, Akiva looked up, “Oh!” she chuckled softly and rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Just a glass,” she clarified, she would use her wand for water to avoid the discomfort of having someone else have to taste it first, “and to eat, I think fish and chips would be ace, thanks.”  She turned to the boys, “your turns."  She smiled, seeing who would pick up the reigns.

"You might win that battle, but neither of you will win the war."

"Oh, but Akiva," Dreogan said mildly as his eyes glanced down at the menu, "there hasn't even been an official declaration of anything yet." He now met her gaze, eyebrow quirking challengingly.

And then -- well, then -- Frank had made a somewhat disarming comment, suggesting a tactic: tickling. Dreogan, accustomed to meeting people daily, reading emotions, ameliorating high ones and encouraging cooperative ones, allowed his smile to spread. The amusement was there, certainly. "It usually works," he agreed, allowing the man his comment but not willing himself out of it. "However, that might fall to you," he said, tapping the tabletop. "Certain things might get in my way. . . I'll just have to be a little bit more creative." He gave a rare, mischievous smirk before leaning back in his chair and adding, "But of course, there's not been an official declaration yet. Right, Akiva?" There. It would be in her favour now to agree.

His attention was drawn to the title of the book; it sounded like something his mother would use. Request for her birthday. . .

Somehow, Dreogan's response that he'd lived in Egypt -- or perhaps that he cared about how Frank had liked Egypt -- surprised him. Dreogan could not make sense of this: it seemed an unremarkable point, that he had lived somewhere other than here, but smiled and listened to the response. Which was surprising in its own way.

"Red land -- the deshret?" Dreogan echoed eyes widening, noting tangentially that he used the archaic -- perhaps anglo-Magical -- terming for it, though understanding what he meant. "That's . . . well, that's rather adventuresome. I only lived in the, ah,  Kemet-- Luxor, primarily. Cairo, for a time." He considered the sort of life Frank might lead, traveling broadly, risking adventure. He oughtn't  have been surprised: though the young man looked a bit bookish and not the sort to be wrestling dragons, or whatever one had to do to retrieve manuscripts amidst stashes and hoardes, the same had often been observed of him. But what pricked the back of Dreogan's mind, what aroused curiosity in the business and in Frank, too, was motivation -- all for what? For books, yes. For learning, yes. But these books -- they weren't the sort that one read in a circulating library. Or Hogwarts.

"Who are your patrons?" Perhaps Frank would not be at liberty to say. "I just wonder," he clarified, "do people collect these books as practitioners of the arts taught in the books, or as antiquarians? You know," he added a bit more colloquially, hoping to make this less of a formal first-meeting and more a fireside chat, "what's it like? Working for these people?"

The waiter was here and Dreogan was worried his question -- one he very much wanted an answer to, his mind now spinning plausibilities -- might get lost in the now monolithic debate about ordering orders. Dreogan was not about to let things mean more than they ought to mean, in this meeting which had been arranged so they might provide evidence to be interpreted at a later time. He smiled as Akiva ordered and waved his hand at Frank to order next. "Frank, go ahead," he said, looking at the menu, though he felt pretty sure he knew what he wanted: Akiva had just ordered his absolute favourite British fare. "I'm still deciding." Maybe he should try something else. Akiva would tease him about being predictable. Though he'd always be able to retort that she'd started it.

He gave a lopsided smirk at this as his finger grazed the lettering of the menu; his eyes, however, glanced up to Frank to get a reading. The man had arrived later. Perhaps he didn't know. In which case, he'd step in.