[Around 11.30am, Oxford Street]

"And then he took me dancing." Sam couldn't help the smug grin that spread across her face at that. Her date with Jason had gone exceptionally well, considering she'd never been on an actual date before. She turned towards the mirror wearing a white dress with little capped sleeves. Her nose wrinkled up slightly as she assessed her body from different angles. "I don't think so..." She sighed and grabbed the bottom of the dress, pulling it up over her head and throwing it over the stool in the corner of the little dressing room revealing her underwear that Charlotte had earlier complimented her on.

To any innocent bystander outside of the dressing rooms, they were just two girls out for a day of shopping in London. And Charlotte was just a snobby girl who looked down on most people she saw. Negative. Charlotte just didn't like to be too close to muggles. Not that she was as purist as some people the girls knew, but she still had a sense of superiority. Though she couldn't deny that Oxford street had some of the best shops in the country. The boutique they were currently in was quite busy so there was no danger of their conversation being overheard - not that it was particularly dangerous right now, but Sam would argue that her date with Jason had been magical.

"Pass me that one?" she pointed at an olive green top behind Charlotte before stooping down to pull her jeans back on. She loved shopping. What normal girl didn't? Sharing her girly chats with her cousin was one of her favourite past times, and now she felt like she had something worthy to contribute to the conversation.

It had taken Charlotte a good ten minutes to be convinced to remove her oversized, too-dark sunglasses and put down the latte she’d been clutching like death. It was an early shopping trip by her own standards, and it was out of her comfort zone, too. But Charlotte liked clothes, any clothes, if they were well-made and stylish and tastefully presented, and whether they came from wizards or came from muggles was only a minor detail. She wasn’t a purist; simply a creature of habit.

Now standing in the the tiny, mirrored dressing room, checking out her own bum with a rather vaguely-admiring expression, Charlotte listened the riveting tale of the date with the man who had, only a while ago, been about to shag Quincy St. James (Formerly Pratt) on her husband’s bed, in front of her sleeping child. Devilish, handsome wizards with pretty grins were exactly what the Healer had ordered, it seemed.

Her eyes shot from her own silhouette and settled on Samia’s sweet brown eyes. Charlotte grinned a grin that could certainly any man’s level of fiendishness. “So Jason Marren dances?” It was good to know. She wondered if it meant his best friend (or soon to be former best friend?), a certain eligible bachelor, was also suave on his feet.

Shaking her head at the white dress as Sam discarded it, Charlotte was thankful they both had good taste. It made shopping in new places much easier... and more interesting. Plucking the green top from its resting place, she handed it over to her cousin, and then rummaged in the generous pile accumulated on a cushioned chair. She found a prize-- a plum-colored, form-fitting dress with off-the-shoulder three-quarter sleeves and a very flattering neckline. It would go splendidly with her new pumps. “That green’s a much better color for you...” Green in general was very befitting the St. James women. Charlotte might have been a touch biased, but everyone was entitled to that.

Standing in her black bra and knickers without batting a lash-- she and Samia had shared many a holiday evenings in the same room as younger girls, and had long since grown used to dressing and undressing in front of one another-- Charlotte stepped into the dress with a elfish sort of hop, tugging it up over her hips and slipping her arms into it. “Did you go home with him?” She prodded, waiting for the next bit of the story.

She grinned back at her cousin. "Apparently, Jason Marren dances." She shrugged. Had someone told her before their date that he could dance, and dance quite well at that, she would have bet all the money in her Gringott's account that they were either lying or sorely mistaken. She was pleasantly surprised to find that his moves on the dancefloor were to be envied by other men who seemed to have two left feet compared to him. He had been caring, gentle and seductive on the dancefloor and had shocked Sam to the core. Even she felt unworthy of dancing next to him, and she had always classed herself as a good dancer.

Charlotte handed the top over just as Sam had finished fastening the zip on her jeans. "Thanks." she said as she pulled it over her head. She admired her reflection in the mirror with a smile. "Much better." she smoothed the top out over her abdomen and over the top of her jeans. She preferred longer tops, ones that didn't ride up her body when she moved around.

“That green’s a much better color for you...”

"I agree. But that dress is gorgeous!" she exclaimed, picking the corner of the plum dress up in her hand and letting it fall back down. "Quick, try it on!" Sam turned back to her reflection as Charlotte shimmied her way easily into the garment.

“Did you go home with him?”

Sam sighed. "No..." she turned to Charlotte, her expression falling a little. "Honestly? I think we'll just stay friends." Her brow pinched slightly in annoyance. She had plenty of friends and wasn't sure she needed another, but then she wasn't sure that Jason wanted any more than that. It had been a nice date with good company - and she would certainly enjoy his company again, regardless of whether it was as friends or more. She shrugged and plastered a smile on her face, the same smile she had perfected over the years for her parents' benefits. "I don't know, I think it might be a little early for him to be thinking about relationships...what with his divorce still being finalised." Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "But...We did kiss." She couldn't contain the grin that spread across her face at the memory of their kiss.

Jason Marren danced. And he had never thought to tell Charlotte. How tragic! “Go on, be cheeky then,” Charlotte teased, brushing the end of a feathery-cuffed pearly-white glove against Sam’s cheek. Was that all the detail she was going to get? A vague sort of retort? She could almost see the smirk that was obviously resonating inside her dear cousin’s pretty little mind. Coy. But then, all of the St. James women had that devilishly kittenish streak, didn’t they?

Another thing the St. James women uniformly possessed was a certain... mmm... phyiscal attractiveness. Any number of women might have dreaded the unforgiving, exceptionally telling three-way-mirror, but the pair of cousins seemed at home in front of it.

Taking the compliments without a word of dismissal-- there would be time for that later, perhaps when they were gorging on naughty foods, and Charlotte felt the need to loudly bemoan her thighs and tummy, like she often did in the company of her dear friend Liadán-- Charlotte smiled smugly at her own reflection. Even with slightly bed-headed hair and no second helping of coffee, she thought she looked damn good in the muggle design. “This one’s a keeper...” She’d been thinking about keepers a lot lately.

Prying her eyes from... well, her eyes... Charlotte stared again into Sam’s rich chocolate gaze and flashed the most incredulous of expressions. “What’s wrong with you? You go out with a Head Healer, and he doesn’t realize you need to be committed to the psych ward?” Who would pass up the chance to weasel her way into Jason’s heart... and bed? “I’d toss you into a straightjacket if I were him.” She nearly scoffed, but gave another twirl, admiring the way the dress hugged her hips. “Or I’d put him in one if I were you...” Indeed. “The things I would do to that man.”

“But, did I tell you about the Mag--”

Aha! So there was a bit of a naughty tale underneath the initial ‘We’re Going to be Friends’ pile of rubbish Sam had just innocently pushed in her direction. Turning and grabbing her cousin by the shoulders, Charlotte nearly shrieked. “Just kissed?” She asked, her voice coming out in more of a loud whisper. She smirked. “He’s good, isn’t he?”

Nearly snorting in laughter, Charlotte rolled her eyes and began to tug off the dress. She reached for another garment-- a risque sheer black blouse-- and stared pointedly at Sam. “I don’t think Jason minds moving on before he’s tied everything up in a pretty little bow. Something tells me he’s... fast." It began with a Q, ended with an incyminushalfherclothes.

“What’s wrong with you? You go out with a Head Healer, and he doesn’t realize you need to be committed to the psych ward?”

Sam chuckled nervously, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Maybe Charlotte was right. Why hadn't she just taken the opportunity to do what she wanted - whatever that had been, and in a sober state she wasn't entirely sure what it was - and then enjoy the memories of it afterwards? Why had she been so hung up on what Jason would think the next morning, and less about the fact that she would regret not doing anything, the next morning?

“Or I’d put him in one if I were you...”

Sam feigned shock and gave Charlotte a playful tap on the shoulder, though nothing that came from Charlotte's salacious mouth really shocked her anymore. That girl, for all her youth, certainly knew what she was doing when it came to situations with a more 'mature' theme. "The thought never crossed my mind." Less than thirty times a minute.

Charlotte spun her around and grabbed her shoulders, a shocked look on her face. Sam couldn't help but grin.

“Just kissed?”

Sam shrugged slightly, deliberately not making eye contact with Charlotte. "Quite a lot, actually..." she really didn't need to, and had no desire to elaborate any further than that. Some things simply needed to be left to the imagination. And Charlotte's imagination could certainly concoct some vivid images when it wanted to.

“He’s good, isn’t he?”

Sam cocked an eyebrow at her younger cousin. Charlotte knew just how to press Sam’s buttons. It wasn’t helped by the fact that Sam really really like this guy. Even more so by the fact that he didn’t like her in that way. This was one time she wouldn't let Charlotte get to her. Fine. she thought to herself in annoyance. I was going to tell you that he spent the night at mine, but for that little number you can be kept in the dark for a little longer! She almost added a 'hmph!' at the end, but had to stop herself from actually saying it outloud.

“I don’t think Jason minds moving on before he’s tied everything up in a pretty little bow. Something tells me he’s... fast."

Wait- "What?" Sam asked, turning to Charlotte with a genuinely concerned look on her face. That wasn't just teasing - there was something in those words. Charlotte knew something. "What do you mean?"

"The thought never crossed my mind."

“Mmm, of course not,” Charlotte murmured loudly, having already turned back to the mirror to glance over her own hips, and appraise how the material clung to them. Or maybe Sam was being serious. Charlotte adored her cousin-- much more so than she’d ever cared for Quincy (or perhaps the same, as deep down she loved them both, but it was a friendly sort of admiration she had for Sam, as opposed to a competitive one), but Samia was every bit the loony Ravenclaw when she wanted to be. Out of touch with her sensuality, Charlotte thought. Didn’t she know just how pretty the St. James clan were? All of them?

That guilty grin said it all. Charlotte first saw it in the mirror’s reflection, and spun around again, her blue eyes alight with new fascination. Sam couldn’t lie to her. Not for long. Or so Charlotte was inclined to believe.

“Look at me,” she demanded lightly, waiting for the pretty, dark honey gaze to match hers. But Samia was playing it coy.

"Quite a lot, actually..."

“You can’t just leave it there!” Charlotte huffed like a child. A glimpse of that spoiled five-year-old danced over her adult features.

Trying on the next garment in the pile she’d accumulated while floating through the shop, Charlotte supposed it was her turn to play the kitten. “Hmm?” She asked at length, finally catching Sam’s eye again after she’d slipped into a pair of ankle-breaking black pumps.

She sighed. “Haven’t you spoken with Quincy lately, love? I mean-- everyone knows.” Or Charlotte knew, anyway, and she’d wasted little time in dangling it over Quincy’s head, teasing her delicious ex husband with the incriminating information. “He’s stupidly infatuated with Quincy-- or was. Like a little puppy. Until I walked in on them...” She cringed a bit. “You’re a much better catch. Don’t let it bother you. He couldn’t have her anyway. She’s his best friend’s wife. It’s probably the only reason he liked her in the first place. They always think[i/] they want what they can’t have.”

“Haven’t you spoken with Quincy lately, love? I mean-- everyone knows.”

"Everybody...?" Everybody knows what? Her eyebrows pinched together in confusion and irritation and her heart rate started to sped up. What did everyone know? And what did Quincy have to do with anything, except for the fact she set Sam and Jason up?

“He’s stupidly infatuated with Quincy-- or was. Like a little puppy. Until I walked in on them...”

As Charlotte paused, Sam felt the breath get knocked out of her. Jason and Quincy? Quincy and Jason? How was that possible? Sam's breathing got a little faster as her eyes widened a little and she felt her whole body heat up.

“You’re a much better catch. Don’t let it bother you. He couldn’t have her anyway. She’s his best friend’s wife. It’s probably the only reason he liked her in the first place. They always think they want what they can’t have.”

Sam's eyes glazed over slightly as she put her hand out to the wall to try and steady herself. "So..." she started slowly, trying to get a grasp on things. "No." she shook her head. "No, you must be wrong. I mean, Quincy set us up. She pushed me and him together. Why would she do that if..." she trailed off as it dawned on her. She had been the consolation prize. She had been the girl he got instead of the girl he wanted - they were family, similar in many ways. What difference did it make, as long as he was satisfied and she didn't have to deal with the guilt? Do a good deed to repent your sins. "She did it on purpose." she spoke quietly, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

Maybe Charlotte had gone about it the wrong way. While witchy, crafty, sly, she did not always put the filter on her mouth that so many other ladies possessed. Thinking things was generally saved for revenge. Sam was neither an enemy nor the competition, and so Charlotte was even more candid than usual.

Her face falling lightly, but shocking sincerity, she shook her head. “I don’t mean it like that... I was... exaggerating.” It was hard to say. The word tasted sour, but Charlotte continued. She wouldn’t admit as much for very many people. But Samia was not just anyone. “I just mean, there was a bit of a... mmm, tangled web. It upset a few people, but it’s over, love.”

There, that sounded comforting, didn’t it?

Grabbing Sam’s hand, Charlotte flashed a photogenic smile.

It faded a bit when she’d heard Sam’s bit.

Quincy had done what?!

Maybe their cousin was was wicked as Charlotte sometimes babyishly claimed.

Resuming her smile and straightening her shoulders, Charlotte renewed the strength of her grasp. “She didn’t want him,” Charlotte lied. Privately, she felt otherwise. “She and Eddie are always bickering and falling over each other. It’s like a boring muggle film. The poor man, he doesn’t stand a chance in this world. They’re always going to be... together.” Charlotte almost shuddered and narrowed her wide blue eyes like a cat’s, but she employed every last bit of self control she possessed. It was almost physically painful not to encourage any line-drawing between the cousins. Team Charlotte would have to stay benched, and wait for another rainy day to have a real go at Quincy’s lineup.

“Jason was just in the wrong place at the right time. Quincy was finalizing everything and looking for sympathy... I was running fashionably late, so I suppose you could blame me, love.” She gave her cousin a wink. “Look, Sam, Quincy might not make the best decisions when it comes to relationships, but she loves you. I’m sure she knew you and Jason would be lovely together. She wants you to be happy. And you and he have a lot more in common than he does with any other woman in our family.” That hadn’t come out wrong, had it? “You’re both interested in healing the population, after all. So let’s ring up the Grosvenor’s Gringotts account and go toast to good health and big hearts.”

Sam could see Charlotte was a little shocked by her reaction. The fact that she admitted she had been exaggerating was...well, a little disconcerting to say the least. The sincerety in Charlotte's face soothed Sam's fears just a little, though she couldn't entirely get rid of the image out of her head. As Charlotte explained that he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, Sam smiled slightly and nodded.

Yes, that was it. Wrong place, wrong time. Just as she had been before; namely, her wedding day. Most certainly the wrong place and wrong time. Nowhere and never would have quite suited her, was she to do it all over again.

“You’re both interested in healing the population, after all. So let’s ring up the Grosvenor’s Gringotts account and go toast to good health and big hearts.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "But so is Quincy." she flashed a grin - her quick-witedness was not always lost when she was thrown offguard. "But yes." she clapped her hands together and looked around the small cubicle at the mound of clothes strewn across the stool. "Let's buy the clothes and go spend Thomas Grosvenor's hard-earned money!"