Dundalk, Ireland.


The events of the day before, and the promise of a follow-up to that taster had made the last twenty-four hours bearable. Much as though his mother had been all over the place when he got home, and his dad had ran off to the pub as soon as he thought it was safe enough to leave his mother, Felix finally found he had real fantasies to occupy his mind with. The kind of fantasies that had actually taken place. Just the day before.

Though his mum was clearly heartbroken by the fact that her eldest son's personal life had been splashed all over the newspaper like a common shade of magnolia, she had perked up somewhat when Felix told her he'd invited a girl over that night for dinner. As of yet, he still wasn't entirely sure that Charlotte would follow through with it, or whether it had simply been a heat of the moment thing that she'd blurted out, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. However, he clung to the hope that she had been serious, and had cooked dinner. Nothing fancy, just a bolognaise.

His mum - knowing Felix's cooking skills, or lack thereof - had offered to cook something up for him. "You can't invite a girl over for dinner and serve bolognaise!" she had practically screeched at him in the kitchen as he prepared the mince, but he was adamant this was something he wanted to do on his own. He managed to refrain from yelling that he didn't need mothering and wasn't a mummy's boy, because in reality they would have both known he was lying.

So at quarter past seven, Felix was clock-watching. Such a bad habit, but he couldn't help it. Had they actually arranged a time? Had he definitely got the day right? His dad had decided to surprise his mum and take her out for a nice meal, no doubt ending at the local, so they could give Felix and his 'lady friend' some private time together. They were probably just happy that their second eldest son had followed in his older brother's footsteps and liked girls too, because this meant there was a chance of more grandchildren. And much as though they would never admit it to Felix outloud, they had - for a short time - wondered...

He tugged briefly on his tee shirt. What if he wasn't dressy enough? Maybe he should change into something a little classier...a shirt and tie? No! He needed to be comfortable. He needed to be himself.

Outfit

Fully prepared to bump into one Marren boy parent or another, Charlotte had put on her most charming and innocent expression before Apparating to Ireland, and sauntering up to the front door. A mysterious white china bowl, carefully covered, held the evening’s dessert. Far more than two people needed-- by the young woman was in the business of buttering up to a certain pair of heartbroken people who might want to know just how lovely the St. James clan were. Jason had better thank her later, Charlotte thought. She was too kind, really.

But when she knocked, the house seemed oddly quiet, and she leaned around in hopes of finding an open window. No such luck; the front curtains were nearly drawn, and the way the last tiny shred of sunlight painting the sky a bruised blue bounced off the window, Charlotte couldn’t even see her own reflection without blinding herself.

She blinked like a prodded, slumbering kitten, and quickly resumed the smile just as the door opened. Ordinarily, she would have invited herself in. But it wasn’t Felix’s personal turf... or was it?

“Hello,” she said softly as she stepped across the threshold. Her eyes ravaged Felix for a moment, and then she leaned toward him, standing on her tippy toes to look over his shoulder. “We’re alone?” She murmured. Something delightful tickled her nose, and she smiled more witchily. Drawing back, she kissed him and smoothed a hand down his t-shirt. “Nice suit,” she teased, winking, and pushing the dessert bowl into his hands. She wandered further into the house, scanning walls and tables for incriminating childhood photographs.

There was a noise outside, and Felix's heart skipped a beat. Suddenly it was as though he had cotton wool in his ears. He couldn't hear anything but his heart beat. It was so loud, he was sure she'd be able to hear it from out side. Though, knowing his luck, he'd open the door and find his granny grinning back at him, just popping in for a chat. He grimaced slightly at the thought, but headed for the door anyway. It was for this reason he opened it cautiously.

But there she was, an absolute vision in that dress. He very nearly had to pick his jaw up off the floor, and suddenly felt very aware that his clothes looked like he had put absolutely no thought into this night whatsoever. Suddenly, he wished he had let his mum cook.

He swallowed as she came closer and leaned up, looking over his shoulder. He nodded at her acknowledgement that they were alone. "Yes." He said quietly as her face came closer to his. As their lips touched, he had the urge to hold her there and not let her pull away. Her hand snaked its way down his shirt as she commented on his 'suit'. "Only the best for you." He teased back. His hands started to move around to her waist, but she pulled away before he managed to get a good grasp on it, much to his disappointment.

She pushed a white china bowl into his hands, and though he was momentarily thrown, he realised that it must have been dessert. Closing the door, he watched her walk around curiously for a moment. "Would you like a drink? I have a bottle of red." He went to move past her but couldn't help letting his hand graze her hip for a moment as he made his way towards the kitchen.

There was something in Felix’s expression that told Charlotte just how delicious she looked, without him even having to utter a word. She’d seen it before, but she never tired of it. And now that she’d fallen into the mousetrap just a bit, she was keen to see what new responses she could evoke in him. Try as she might to stay fun and flirty, Charlotte was actually genuinely excited-- almost girlishly giddy-- to have a real date with Felix Marren.

But her exterior said none of this, and she remained as composed as ever, stepping in to greet him and poke fun at his casual attire. She rather fancied him in jeans, truth be told. He looked young and rugged. The sort of person who would... cook dinner for her? Yes.

Escaping with measured nonchalance and beginning her hunt of his parents’ abode, Charlotte did not allow herself to be caught off guard by Felix’s wandering fingers. He passed into the kitchen and she took her sweet time in replying, or even looking up from the first spotlighted pictured frame. “I’d love a drink,” she said quietly, finally sauntering in the direction of what was presumably the kitchen. He’d already disappeared by the time Charlotte pulled her baby blues away from an endearing photo of the three brothers.

Finding herself in the kitchen, Charlotte gravitated toward Felix and his wine. “So this is where you grew up...” She murmured, looking around curiously. There were a few things that were unfamiliar to Charlotte, who had grown up in a strictly magical household. Reaching for the wine, she read the label approvingly and poured two glasses without being asked. Lifting one, she gave it a swirl, and a taste, and then clinked it against the one still untouched. “To... Super Man and his many childhood treasures.” She smirked and took another, loner sip. “Which I’ll be discovering tonight.”

As he pottered around in the kitchen, warming plates up and stirring the bolognaise, he couldn't hear much from the other side of the wall. He knew what she was doing, and he also knew that he should have stored those photos away somewhere secret and hidden, so she had no chance of seeing them and poking more fun at him. He rolled his eyes to himself. Stupid, stupid man! Oh well, at least there's that photo of Jason with his hands down his pants...that should keep her occupied for a while.

He looked up as he heard a noise, and saw her make her way over to the wine. He bit his lip and turned away, not wanting to seem like a complete pervert leering over her. Though what had changed? Normally he would have made a show of it, but this seemed so much more exclusive than their odd flirts here and there, and his wandering hands seeing how far they could get before she slapped him. She had consented - nay, suggested  - this 'date', if that was what it was to be referred to as.

He tapped his foot along with the tune that was playing on the radio as she poured two glasses of wine. He turned the hob down to simmer, threw the tea-towel on the bench and turned to her with a grin as she toasted 'Superman'. He moved close to her and picked his own glass up, raising it slightly as though meeting her toast. He watched for a moment as she took a long sip of her wine, before taking a sip of his own. Perfect. His favourite red, at the most perfect temperature.

"To you, and your dress." He stated, raising the glass once again for her to toast in turn. his eyes flickered down to the neckline of the dress, then back up to her face mischievously. "Which I'll be discarding tonight." Perhaps a little presumptious, but then Felix had always walked along the fine line between the appropriate and the daring when it came to Charlotte. This was most certainly erring on the side of the daring.

“You never told me Jason was so... flexible.” She smiled, thinking of one of the photos she’d just seen. She would save the best one for when they were eating. When his defenses were most vulnerable. “But can he cook as well as you?” She tilted her head a bit toward the feast he was looming over, finishing up. It smelled wonderful, much better than Charlotte herself could do, and she wondered whether she should compliment him now-- and surrender her own ego-- or wait until she’d actually tasted it.

The latter plan, Charlotte thought, and tried not to linger on the implications of the evening. She’d taken things to the next level on the train-- an intimate place probably neither one of them ever expected to go in their cat-mouse/love-hate relationship. And now she’d demanded a date... and he’d obliged... and here they were, being perfectly nice to each other, ready to dine. And share dessert (of two sorts, perhaps).

“To me and my dress,” she echoed, soaking up the toast in her honor without a hint of modesty. But then the devilish side of him returned in perfect fashion, and Charlotte opened her mouth in some combination of mild protest and oh-you-think-you’re-so-clever-don’t-you? “Which is not easy to get into, and definitely harder to take off.” she winked and turned her back to him, smiling to herself and enjoying another sip of wine.

Felix didn't want to think about how flexible Jason was or wasn't. That was not information that should be stored in Felix's head. Wrong, on so many different levels. He shook his head slightly, trying to rid the horrible image of his brother. It didn't take much of looking at Charlotte to be completely distracted, though. She was good at that.

He grinned as she reciprocated his toast, but her expression changed slightly when he said his next piece. Her mouth opened slightly for a moment, but it wasn't long before she'd come back with something equally as witty and suggestive. Some things just never changed, no matter how the circumstances presented themselves. It seemed that even on a 'respectable date' where they should have been showering each other with compliments, their personalities and their history meant that they couldn't help but carry on teasing each other. It was a game that neither could bear to part with.

She turned her back to him defiantly and he smirked, placing his glass of wine on the table and moving forward. His left hand moved to her waist and his right hand found the skin of her shoulder. He traced his fingers along her shoulder and up her neck towards her hairline, his lips close to her left ear. "Show me where the zip is and I'll have a good go at it." No matter how respectable he tried to be, Charlotte just brought that badboy attitude out in him.

"Show me where the zip is and I'll have a good go at it."

Charlotte’s self-satisfied smile melted into something a little more endearing, a little more vulnerable, but Felix was still at her back, and probably couldn’t see it, save, perhaps, a glimpse of her profile. “Alright,” she agreed, finally turning a bit in an attempt to catch him in her peripheral. Her hands snaked backward, grabbing his toned middle... or trying to. “But you look positively parched, and I’m starving. You have to feed us first.”

Freeing herself from his seductive grasp, she turned around and fed him the same confident smile she’d used a moment ago. “Have you set the table or shall I?”

Moving back toward the counter, she leaned into it and sipped her wine almost lazily. She wanted to go hunting again, to find more trinkets of eras past. But the food was luring, and so was Felix’s handsome face. And, after all, she had been the one to arrange the date. Now they had to follow through, like proper little adults. Dinner first. Dessert second. And finally, the other dessert.

Felix hadn’t expected Charlotte to be so willing to cave in. He blinked at her passive reply, though quickly managed to gain control over his facial features once more. As she turned slightly, he peered a little more over her shoulder, and caught that fragment of a smile that brushed her lips as her wandering hands found his lower torso. He nodded in agreement. “I am parched.” He said as she turned to face him, manoeuvring herself away from his clutches, much to his disappointment.

“The table is set, and dinner shall be served presently," he replied as she lounged against the bench with her glass of wine. She looked so serene, and like she belonged in an advert in a magazine for some posh designer, more than she belonged in his kitchen. "If you would care to come this way, mademoiselle, I shall escort you through." He held his arm out with a slight crook in his elbow, for her to latch on and be chaperoned into the dining room. Though a relatively small house, the outside was deceiving and it played host to many rooms that one would have thought it would have perhaps forsaken. An example being the dining room.

He led Charlotte into the dining room, which - like every other room in the house - was decorated with old wallpaper and crammed with pictures of family in every empty corner. He grinned sheepishly at her as he motioned to a chair. Felix knew, that had the roles been reversed and had he been at her house with childhood pictures galore, he would want to make his way around each one. Being nosy was just a part of being human.

The table was set very simply. The six-seater rectangle oak table was set only at the end nearest the window, with a dinner mat on either side, a drink mat in front of each place, and a knife, fork and spook decorating it. In the middle but slightly to the side was a wine bottle with a white candle stick in it, clearly having already been used before with the wax dripping down the sides. "I hope this is ok." His hand automatically came up and rubbed the back of his neck.

Taking his arm without protest, she allowed herself to be led into the dining room. After all, she was dying to set her eyes on any new priceless photo opportunities of decades past. Parents were very good at capturing a child’s most notable fashion mistakes, least photogenic expressions, innocently compromising positions, and... regrets in general. In shiny frames.

“Your mum must be crazy about you boys,” she humored, stepping into the cozy room. She shot him a glance, knowing as much already. Hadn’t their last encounter been the intermission for his great act to comfort Mummy? Felix was clearly the good boy, where Jason was evidently the one who broke their parent’s heart. Charlotte didn’t need to know or dwell on anymore, however much she conveniently skipped over in her analysis.

It was funny, though, that she was the one dining with Felix, and Sam, the one with a respectable job and sweet child, had been caught in Jason’s web.

She caught the hint of uncertainty in his tone-- or, rather, the characteristic stance-- and resisted the urge to prey on it. She could have taken the points then and there, evened the score, and raised the stakes of their game, but instead, Charlotte’s smile remained calm and... well, warm. “It’s lovely,” she admitted. And she wasn’t lying. However much it was not her own barely-used dining room, it was pleasant and inviting. And something she’d never really had with men like her ex fiancee.

She sat down, and reached for the wine again, refilling her glass. She had an impressive tolerance, Charlotte. “I especially adore that photo of you in the bathtub. Shame about all the bubbles in the way...”

At her statement that their mum must be 'crazy' about her sons, Felix laughed. "You noticed?" His eyes scanned the pictures that adorned the various varnished wooden units in the dining room, and he grimaced slightly turning back to her. He should definitely have taken them down. Definitely. That was most certainly not first date discussion material. His eyebrows rose slightly when she said the room was lovely. He blinked and looked around, letting some air escape from his lips. "It's...home." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

He watched as she sat down and refilled her glass. Damn...should have offered to fill it for her! This was most definitely a palm-to-forehead moment, but he didn't get a chance to consider whether to handg about or go and bring their dinners in, before she commented on a photo. "That's sweet, but also a little disturb-" his eyes latched onto the photo in question and they nearly popped out of their sockets.

He made a dash to the photo and slammed it face down on the dresser, almost causing the glass to shatter. "I'm going to kill Jason!" he seethed, before contemplating whether to commit a triple homicide, bringing his mother down for putting the photo up in the first place, and his father for not protecting his innocence. He swallowed hard when he realised Charlotte was probably enjoying this a little too much. When she had first commented, he had assumed that she was referring to a photo of him as a small child, perhaps around four or five, playing with a rubber duck and plastic boat in the bath. On the contrary, it was a photo Jason had sneakily taken the previous year, of a twenty-eight year old Felix...playing with a rubber duck...and a plastic boat...in the bath.

He felt the red colour come to his cheeks. This was not something he would easily be able to come back from. Not with Charlotte. Not with Charlotte St.James. "Jason-" he started, licking his lips as he stood up straight and tried to regain some of his composure. "-took that last year. I'm going to castrate him." He nodded matter-of-factly, rubbing his palm furiously against the back of his neck.

It was cute, how he acknowledged it was home. He might have been stating the obvious, but it seemed less suave, and more... sincere. Not that he wasn’t always sincere. Playing the actress was more Charlotte’s game; she knew about Felix’s crush. But they both indulged the rounds of love and hate, cat and mouse. This was new. It was... a wall down.

Letting out a laugh, even before he really noticed what she was talking about, Charlotte imagined the pair of brothers playing tricks on each other. She’d escaped that plague, her own brothers taking up the protective, macho attitude expected of them. Having no sisters had its pluses. It made Charlotte the center of everyone’s attention. (Though sometimes, it was quite annoying, and she’d had to really perfect her sneaking skills at a young age.)

“Do you really think I have a thing for kids?” She asked, raising a brow. If anything, it was the opposite. Older men. Finn had been her one and only venture into the land of fresh young things, but he didn’t count. He had the success of a man three times his age. “When you were five, I wasn’t even around,” she mused. “I think that makes you the disturbing one.” Not. She’d been having a go at him, teasing him, being a good little brat since her early teenage years.

“Don’t kill Jason.” Had she really just uttered those words? “That picture is priceless. It’s a real...” She turned back to the table, looking down at her nails. “Turn on.”

“So, about that little dinner we’re having?” She looked back at him at last, practiced innocence dancing in her eyes.

He scoffed at her trying to save Jason's back. Yeah, like she would ever pass up the opportunity to see Jason himself castrated.  It was possible that she would want to see his pretty head battered even moreso than himself; afterall, it was her own flesh and blood that had been damaged by Jason's indiscretions. Her next statement made his ears prick up and he immediately whipped around to see her inspecting her nails as though she had just told him how bored she was.

He swallowed slightly and his hand came down from his neck and was inserted into his pocket instead. Was she joking? He couldn't tell. He should thank her. No, no that was a dumb idea. A real man wouldn't thank a woman if she told him he was a turn on. A real man would stride over to her, pick her up in his arms and take her straight to the bedroom. Or, if he was particularly eager, just lift her onto the table - after sweeping the cuttlery aside, of course. Nobody would be turned on with a fork up their rear-end. He shuddered involuntarily, and decided it would be safer not to say anything in response, lest he end up with a fork up his bum.

Play it cool, Felix. Cool, calm and collected. He took a slow breath in as she asked about the dinner. "Oh. Yes. Right." Dinner. Right. She had completely thrown him off the reason they were actually there. Would it be totally inappropriate of him to suggest skipping dinner and going straight to dessert? His eyes flickered to where she was sat looking poised and elegent and so, so sexy in that dress. He blinked a couple of times. "I'll be back in a moment." He flashed her a grin and shot off to the kitchen, dishing out the spaghetti and bolognaise onto each plate, before making his way back into the dining room.

He set one plate down in front of Charlotte and one in front of his own chair, then went towards the door and turned the light switch down a little. He turned back and grinned. The mood had to be just right. No bright lights. Lighting was very important in these sorts of situations. He pulled a box of matches out of a drawer of the sideboard and scarped one against the side of the box, creating a little flame which he hovered over the candle wick. Sometimes it was nice to go back to doing things the muggle way. Their mum always encouraged them to do things the muggle way when at home, but their dad always said it was just because she was jealous she couldn't do magic.

He tossed the box back into the drawer, closed it and sat down, finally relaxing into the seat and taking a long glance at his 'date'. Tha felt weird, thinking of her as a 'date'. But it felt good weird. Like it was something he had never dreamed would happen, and yet - against all the odds - here it was. Happening. his lips curled up at the corners into a smile. "Bon apetite." He picked up his fork but carried on watching Charlotte, the way the light of the candle was reflected on her face in the dusk-lit room. He dug his fork in, twisted it and picked up some spaghetti, holding it in front of his mouth for a moment. "So..." he was questioning whether it was best to bring this up now, or later. Probably now, because at least then he would know where he stood with regards to later. And later, he was hoping to be stood very close to Charlotte. "Why?" he asked simply, putting the fork in his mouth and enjoying the fact that he had an excuse not to say anything else. The spaghetti was delicious.

Charlotte almost lost her cool when he pulled out those little sticks and rubbed one against the package like a pair of fallen branches in the woods. She stiffened in her seat, her neck tensing, and her cheek turning slightly in Felix’s direction. She caught him in peripheral, feeling too foolish to look him in the eye.

“Where’s your wand?” She asked, trying to stay casual. What were those things? Some sort of illegal muggle weapon? She’d only ever seen the other kind-- the plastic, stumpy wand-like contraptions they used for a momentary flame. “Or your... flick...er...” She felt her cheeks going slightly pink and she cleared her throat, reaching for her glass.

Dinner arrived and Charlotte was pacified. The house wasn’t going to burn down. On the contrary, the cozy dining room looked even lovelier in the candlelight. The young woman traded her wine glass for a fork, and acknowledged Felix with a sort momentary, ceremonious lifting of the instrument. “Bon apetite,” she echoed, twirling pasta around her own silverware, and not looking the least bit anxious about dining with a man. She’d been trained long ago how to eat in front of the rougher sex. She chewed slowly, letting his words sink in. Two whole syllables.

“Why, what?” She played, having finally swallowed the first bite. She knew exactly what he was asking. “I wanted to test your cooking skills.” They both knew that was a lie. But Charlotte winked, and indulged herself with another bite. It wasn’t until she’d chased it with a sip of wine before she gave a sort of hum and looked at more quite soberly. “Do you remember after you graduated, on the train home from Hogwarts, you lost something?”

She took a deep breath, looking down at the tantalizing plate. “I was mad at you,” she murmured. Was there guilt in her tone? “You were leaving, and you hadn’t even treated me like a proper young lady. Scolding me for smoking... and...” Well, she’d been a first-class brat, really, but that was a matter of perspective. Charlotte maintained she was an angel, even at thirteen, and any boy was lucky to be seen in her company. She reached into the little clutch purse she’d brought along, and took out what looked like a notebook of sorts. She looked up at him. “I found it in an empty compartment. I thought it was a diary, but then I opened it and knew it was yours.”

Reaching toward him, she handed over the lost treasure, a thieved music book full of pretty symbols and Felix’s own handwritten lyrics. “I wanted you to have it back. And I wanted to be alone when I gave it to you.” Well, that, and she’d sincerely wanted a date. She had for a while, but their game had been too fun, and she’d been slightly... nervous... to indulge him any further. What if it crescendo'ed to some level that it wasn't supposed to reach? “It’s beautiful,” she added softly.

Felix looked away trying to supress a laugh at her reaction to the matchsticks. He pressed his lips together into a thin line as he tossed the used match aside and saw her eyeing the box of sticks warily. "I try to get by without magic when I'm home. I am half muggle, afterall." Whatever laugh he had managed to supress before, it burst its way through his lips when she asked about his 'flick...er'. He shook his head, thinking it too cute to even attempt to correct. Maybe he would call it a 'flicker' from now in. It sounded so much better than 'lighter'.

Charlotte joked about wanting to test his cooking skills and he chuckled. "Well, my cooking skills..." He smirked and shook his head, looking down into his pasta. Perhaps comparing his skills in the kitchen to his skills in the bedroom was not appropriate at that moment. Charlotte carried on talking and he looked up, watching her facial expressions change. There was a more serious expression on her face, one that Felix hadn't seen before. He had seen mock-seriousness on her, but never anything that resembled sincerity.

He swallowed and put his fork down on the plate, nodding when she asked if he remembered losing something on the train ride home in his last year of school. His music pad. Something he carried round with him all of the time, just in case something came to him - as music and lyrics often did in the strangest of places - and he needed to make a note of it there and then. But why was Charlotte mentioning it now?

Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a small, blue leatherbound pad. Felix's eyes widened as he instantly recognised his manuscript book, the top corner slightly bent over and the ribbon page-marker fraying at the end, just as it had been when he lost it. His mouth opened slightly then closed again. He reached out slowly and took the pad from her gently. The leather felt the way it had twelve years ago, and he resisted the urge to lift it up to his nose and sample the smell. One of his great weaknesses was old paper, and this pad of manuscript was a good decade-and-a-half old.

He licked his lips as she said it was beautiful, carefully opening the pad to the middle page. He eased the spine into cracking open, letting his eyes wander over the page in front of him. 13.04.1994. His eyes softened and a grin spread across his lips as his finger traced the words scrawled in his teenage hand. He felt as though he had been reunited with an old friend after many years.

He let his eyes wander up to Charlotte's face and closed the book. There was an ounce of what seemed to resemble guilt as his eyes scanned her face, a smile still on his lips. "Thank you." He held the book up as though reminding her of what he was thanking her for. Moving his chair out from under the table he stood up, placing the little book in the middle drawer of the sideboard.

He sighed as he made his way around the table to Charlotte's side. Leaning against the table next to her chair, he smirked at her. "And...why didn't I get this before now?" He raised an eyebrow, moving his hand towards hers and trailing his forefinger gently over the back of her hand.