October 1
10 AM

Ahmed was walking downstairs after his meeting with Tamis Raynor. While not without a few tense moments...all right, mostly tense moments...it had ended rather well. They had enjoyed a cup of tea in the small cafeteria on Level 2, and agreed to keep in touch. All in all it had gone far better than Ahmed's first meeting with the lady who eventually became his wife. That had ended in an outright screaming match, with him storming out, ducking as she threw an inkwell at his head...

He laughed softly, remembering. Though Sanjana had been a Muggle, Tamis Raynor reminded him a great deal of her. Both were intelligent, dedicated career women who had little patience with knuckle-dragging males.

Though when he first arrived in London he had worn his uniform, since then he had taken more to wearing civilian dress. Today he was in typical Himalayan attire: a long dark-blue tunic, a sheepskin vest, dark trousers and a curly black lambswool cap. Over that he wore dark-green woolen wizard's robes.  

As Ahmed made his way down the marble steps, he realized that he had come a long way since the tragedy that claimed the lives of his family. He could actually think of Sanjana and smile...

It also occurred to him that the stairs were very steep, and a bit slippery from the generations of wizardly feet that must have walked up and down them.

Outfit

This was not the best of days.  It seemed like the events of the early morning had happened days ago instead of a few short hours before.  She had gone home to take a few potions that might get her through the day, but she had nothing to hide the bruises on her wrists, nor the bite mark on her shoulder.  A few glamours spells had made them less noticeable, the sweater hid what was left behind.  She had gotten a few curious looks, and she was sure if had something to do with her attire which was less flashy then usual. 

She had chosen the stairs to try to avoid as many people as possible.  She usually stayed away from them as the wear and tear of use had made them a bit dangerous.  However, the thought of being stuck in an elevator today with Archer, or worse the clear object of his affection Tamis had her scurrying in the opposite direction.  She was in no mood to play that particular game today.

She was momentarily distracted by a man coming down the stairs.  She wasn't entirely sure who he was, perhaps the new Indian Liason who had caused quite a stir upon arrival.

The moment was all it took for the misstep to happen.  The heel of her stiletto managed to find one of the cracks that had yet to be repaired and she heard it snap as her balance was thrown off.  Her other foot was unable to grip anything.  She had managed to escape a trip to St. Mungo's this morning and apparently now it was catching up with her.

Ahmed caught sight of the young woman at the same time she saw him. Those shoes on these stairs were an accident waiting to happen, but he scarcely had time to think about that before one heel became wedged in a crack. He heard the snap as it broke off, and with no traction on the worn marble her other heel slid out from under her. The black pencil- skirt she was wearing further hampered her movement to catch herself…

Having grown up in the Himalayas, Ahmed was used to walking on steep slick surfaces, and twenty years as a law-enforcement officer had sharpened his reflexes. He reached out instinctively to seize her before she could fall, but not by the arms. If he wasn’t quick enough that would be not enough to keep her from falling, and he might actually make things worse, by yanking on them. So…he seized her around the waist.

It was the closest contact with a woman he had experienced in three years.

And this particular woman was quite the armful. Tall and curvy, and soft in just the right places. He was acutely aware of that because holding her with his arms around her waist, with both of them on the same narrow stairstep, meant he was pressed right up against her.

Flushing, he cautiously moved his hands to her shoulders while still holding her steady, trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of…further south. He was unaware that her black tank top and sweater may have been conservative by her normal standards; but he was well-aware that they still exposed an ample amount of cleavage…

“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously. He could hear the quaver in his own voice, and he felt like a complete idiot.

Preparing for the worst, Claudia was surprised when she felt arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close.  She she released the breath she had apparently been holding she realized that thankfully the stranger she was passing on the stairs had managed to catch her before she tumbled.  They were on the same step and sometime during the whole process her fingers had become entangled with the front of his dark green robes.

He seemed to become aware of the nearness and she noted the coloring of his cheeks before he moved his hands from her waist to her shoulders.  She fought the urge to wince at the initial contact of his hand and the bruised bite mark under her sweater.  Apparently what she took for the pain was beginning to wear off.  He was trying to maintain his gaze on her face, something that didn't go unnoticed.

“Are you all right?”

"I believe the only thing injured is my pride," she replied, glancing down at her shoe for a brief moment before adding, "and my shoe.  Thank you...That could of ended very badly."

Ahmed allowed the young woman to disentangle her fingers from his robes, not wanting to appear in a hurry to brush her off. He had felt a slight wince when his arms were around her, and hoped he had not seized her too roughly.

"I believe the only thing injured is my pride...and my shoe.  Thank you...That could of ended very badly." She spoke with an accent, and had a very sultry voice.

“My...erm... pleasure,” said Ahmed. To cover his embarrassment...for it had been all too pleasurable...he looked down, and then up. “Hmmn. It is about the same distance either to go down, or back up to the elevator. And it will be difficult for you, with a heel missing from one shoe...”

He wondered if she would just take the shoes off. That would be the sensible thing...but then again, if she wanted to be sensible, would she have worn those shoes? Plus she was probably wearing nylons. They would be slippery on the stairs too...

He tried not to think what else she might be wearing under that slinky outfit besides nylons, and found himself coloring again. Kabir, he thought, you have been alone for far too long...

Claudia watched him closely, trying to keep her balance as she stood there.  From the way he acted she wondered if he had been around many women recently.  There were usually two types of men she met...those who oozed confidence with a woman like her and those who seemed to be completely unsure how to react.  He seemed to be the latter, and those were the ones to usually peak her interest a bit more.

He had a point about the stairs.  Nylons on marble steps would be worse.  One near disaster was plenty for one day...well two if you counted what had happened that morning.  She pushed the thought out of her mind though, not wanting to think about how close she had come to being an obituary.

"Yes," she began.  "I do know a charm that would be just perfect for this situation, but unfortunately my wand is at my desk."  Giving him a little smile she added, "I'm Claudia, by the way.  And might I inquire as to who just saved me from a lot of unnecessary pain?"

"I do know a charm that would be just perfect for this situation, but unfortunately my wand is at my desk."

"Ah yes, how foolish of me not to have thought of that myself."  It would be absurdly easy to repair the shoe, using a Permanent Sticking Charm.

He pulled his wand from a shoulder holster beneath his vest...which would probably reveal him as a law-enforcement type. "Shall I?"

Seeing a shadow cross her face, he wondered what might have happened to her. Of course being young and pretty was no defense against trauma. In fact, sometimes it attracted trauma...

"I'm Claudia, by the way.  And might I inquire as to who just saved me from a lot of unnecessary pain?"

"Claudia," he said, repeating her name. He had  found repeating names helped one to remember them. "I am Kabir Ahmed. "

He smiled. "Where I come from, our names are backward. Kabir is my family name, Ahmed my given name. So please...call me Ahmed." He spoke with a lilting mixture of accents ; North Indian, with a touch of cultured British.

Her assumption about who he was had been correct.  She had heard his name quite a bit since the middle of September, both on and off the record.  She had figured eventually he would be making an appearance at the Ministry once he had recovered from the assassination attempt that was made upon his arrival in London.

Looking at her shoe she knew she wasn't going to be able to retrieve it from her foot without something to hold on to for balance.  While quite good at walking on impossibly high heels after years of practice, she couldn't manage one foot on a narrow step.  She could move back towards the railing, but she chose to do something a bit more in her nature which would bring her in contact with Ahmed again.

"Pardon me for a moment," she said, not really asking permission as she placed one hand on her arm.  Doing so gave her just enough extra support that she was able to lift the foot with the broken heel and retrieve it.  Shoe in hand now, she bent her opposite knee so her nylon covered foot was flat on the step.  The movement of course brought her down to her regular height, something she wasn't entirely used to.

"It's certainly a pleasure to meet you Ahmed," she said, holding out the shoe.  "I do hope that London has been treating you a bit more kindly then it did when you first arrived."

"Pardon me for a moment."

Her hand on his arm was not as unsettling as the contact of a moment before, but her nylon-clad foot was a distraction. Watching her...as he had many times with Sanjana...he marveled at how women in high heels could maneuver on one foot to remove their shoes, without sitting down. Of course this showed off their legs to great advantage, but Ahmed...who despite having been married was rather naïve...never suspected his own wife might have done such things on purpose, just to keep him interested.

"It's certainly a pleasure to meet you Ahmed. I do hope that London has been treating you a bit more kindly then it did when you first arrived."

“Things did get off to a rocky start,” Ahmed acknowledged with a rueful grin. “But everyone has been very kind.”

He took the shoe from her hand, pointing his wand at it. “Reparo et Mucilago Permanentum.”

He held out the mended shoe to Claudia. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Where were you going?” he added curiously. It was early for lunch, but having been nervous about meeting with Raynor he had not eaten breakfast. 

Didn’t these Brits have something called elevenses, that was like brunch? It would be nice to have company...

Rocky was certainly one was to describe it for what she saw in the official reports.  At least he seemed to be completely healed.  Taking the repaired shoe from him she placed it back on her foot, testing out the newly mended heel.  She murmured her thanks before he changed the subject.

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Where were you going?”

"To the cafe in the atrium," she said.  "I needed something a bit stronger then the coffee we make down here."

Usually a simple cup of coffee in the morning was enough to get her through the day.  However, today she felt like indulging in an expresso to try to ease the dull thudding in her head that the potions had not seemed to take away completely.  She doubted anything would work aside from a full nights rest.

"Would you care to join me?" she asked, giving him a small smile.  He would be quite a welcome distraction to her day.  "It would probably be best if someone ensured I made it there in one piece." 

So...she was going to the café in the atrium.

"Would you care to join me? It would probably be best if someone ensured I made it there in one piece."

“Certainly,” he said, offering his arm.  As they proceeded, he looked warily for more cracks, but the main danger appeared to be that the steps were worn smooth by long use. He wondered why the Ministry did not put traction strips on them, to make them safer. But of course these days, most people would use the elevator. He disliked the elevator. After the earthquake, when he and his troops had to search the rubble looking for survivors, small tight spaces made him break out in a cold sweat.

“I did some graduate study at a Muggle university in the American Rockies,” he told Claudia, “after I finished my Auror’s training. Among other things, I learned to enjoy American coffee. What the people there called cowboy coffee. Strong enough to stand a spoon in, with a lot of cream and sugar.”

He observed that she moved somewhat stiffly, as if she were in pain. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked anxiously.

Taking his arm they started up towards the atrium.  She wondered if when she returned to her desk if it might be safe to take another dose of something for the soreness in her muscles.  She ignored it though as they walked, making sure to keep any eye out for any other cracks in the stairs.  She would try to mention to Marcus that Ministry should see about having them repaired.

“I did some graduate study at a Muggle university in the American Rockies, after I finished my Auror’s training. Among other things, I learned to enjoy American coffee. What the people there called cowboy coffee. Strong enough to stand a spoon in, with a lot of cream and sugar.”

She laughed slightly at the image, although she knew exactly what he was referring to.  She didn't like her coffee quite that strong, but something with a kick was usually preferred to the weak, watered down concoction they called coffee at the Ministry.

"Sounds like it could be the Muggle version of a Pepper-up potion," she mused with a smirk.  Then again, maybe she could use a cup of this so called 'cowboy coffee.'

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

Clearly she wasn't as good as hiding things as she thought.  It was obvious he had picked up on the fact that she was not in tiptop shape, but he probably thought it was because of the near tumble on the stairs.  The whole incident at the club was an embarrassment to her and a very large wake-up call.  She just wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to share that fact with anyone just yet.

"It's nothing to worry about," she said.  "I had a bit of a clumsy moment last night and I guess my lack of grace a few moments ago just aggravated it a bit."  It wasn't the most convincing lie she had ever told, but perhaps it would do for now.

"I had a bit of a clumsy moment last night and I guess my lack of grace a few moments ago just aggravated it a bit."

Ahmed looked at her curiously. A woman who could balance on one foot in that preposterous high-heeled shoe while removing the other, clumsy? He was not a Leglimens; but his intuition told him something here was not right. He had questioned more than one graceful, intelligent woman who said she got a black eye or split lip from walking into a door...

However...he had no jurisdiction here. Which made whatever had happened none of his business. But as Vlad had told him more than once, his face was an open book; and his eyes especially might have revealed to Claudia that he found her story troubling.

Aware himself that his expression might reveal his skepticism, he glanced away. Then to his relief they reached the café. He picked a table where he could have an unobstructed view of the doorway, and everyone who came in. Once an Auror, always an Auror...

“So,” he said, sliding out a chair for Claudia, “what's good here?”

For a brief moment she could see he didn't buy the story.  To him she probably sounded like any number of battered women who were making excuses to cover for some nut job.  It was ironic that in a way she was by trying to avoid talking about the whole incident.  The difference was the nut job in her case had been dealt with.

“So, what's good here?”

She gave a slight smile as she slipped in to the chair he had pulled out for her.  To her it was sad that spending a little time with a man who would automatically pull out a chair or hold a door for a woman was increasingly more difficult to come by.  Focusing on his question, she looked at her wrist watch carefully so as not to reveal the faint bruising and bring on more questioning.  It was nearly a quarter after ten in the morning so it was still a bit early for lunch. 

"Well, this time of the morning, I'd recommend one of the omelets," she told him.  "I'd  stay away from the porridge though, who ever makes it hasn't quite figured the finer points of making it more on the creamy aside as opposed to a lump sticky enough to re-mortar a building."

Ahmed observed that when Claudia examined her watch, she moved rather stiffly; but he could not fault her if she chose not to discuss whatever had happened with a chance acquaintance.

"Well, this time of the morning, I'd recommend one of the omelets. I'd  stay away from the porridge though, who ever makes it hasn't quite figured the finer points of making it more on the creamy aside as opposed to a lump sticky enough to re-mortar a building."

“Perhaps we should suggest they spread it on the stairs,” suggested Ahmed with a smile.

He perused the menu, as a waitress came up to the table. She was young and blonde, with bright red lipstick and nail polish to match.

“Coffee?” she asked in a bored voice.

“Please. And I’d like a spinach and cheddar omelet.”

“We’re out of spinach.”

“Ah. Well...mushrooms then.”

“We’re out of those too. And tomatoes. We’ve got ham. Or bacon.”

 “Erm...I do not eat pork. It’s against my religion. Very well, I’ll just have a plain omelet. With whole wheat toast.”

“We’re out of whole wheat.”

“An English muffin, then?”

Shaking her head, she had the grace to look mildly embarrassed. “We’re out of pretty much anything to do with breakfast...”

Scanning the luncheon side of the menu, he raised an eyebrow. “How can you offer a salad, if you’re out of spinach, mushrooms and tomatoes?”