Part of Ari's parole was the stipulation that he seek gainful employment while ensconced at Bridge House.  Others may have it easier... if they'd a trust fund to fall back on or a job left off when "invited" to Azkaban that would welcome them back.  Ari supposed if he asked, he might have a trust fund.  It was more likely that the sum total of his family's riches was now earmarked for his half-sister, Astoria.  Mother Penelope wouldn't deny him, if he asked, but neither would he ask.  She had no concept of money of of Bridge House.  She might send a bag of gold... or a galleon.

He shrugged as he made his way back through the Welcome area to the Portkey that would take him back to the House.  It wasn't that he wouldn't take his father's money if it was offered to him.  But he rather had the impression that if he did do things the proper way, there was still a chance that his father would accept him again, when he was free to admit he had a son.

Each day, he ventured out-- sometimes into London, sometimes Hogsmeade-- to seek work.  He was required to garner the signatures of prospective employers each time he left Bridge House, proving he'd inquired after a job.  Unfortunately, the fact that he was required to ask for a signature admitted to prospective employers that he wasn't the sort they wanted in their establishments.  He was an ex-Azzie-- not the sort of man you brought home to Mother, much less left alone with the cash register...

The small purse in Ari's hand felt light.  He suspected they'd cheated him of at least one day's compensation.  Each month, he turned in his form and received enough for a small lunch, in compensation for each day's signatures.  Last week, he'd spent the day in a pub instead.  The week before, he'd stopped for tea... Drinking his meals would get Ari in trouble, especially since it meant going without another day to compensate.

His face was sullen, but his stride wasn't hurried.  Instead, he shoved the purse into his pocket along with his hands and slouched a bit.  He'd lost his cocky gait, somewhere in the depths of Azkaban, but he was gaining weight... if he could stop the two-martini lunches when he should be looking for employment.

His hair was pulled back away from his face in a tail at the nape of his neck and he wore the Ministry-issued black robe he wore for job interviews.  It was beginning to fray at the hem, but it was better than nothing.  Maybe his father was right.  Maybe he was simply a shiftless bum... but his eyes smoldered with resentment and with that thought, a bit of his old confidence returned.  He straightened from his slouch, pulled his hands from his pockets and smoothed the hair on the back of his neck, unaware of the throng of people hurrying around him, the cheery Christmas music blaring tinnily from unseen sources, the fairies flitting in their cages, flickering a festive red-and-green, scattering tinsel on the unwary...

Outfit

Georgianne loved the winter holidays! It was always so festive in the ministry, and she got to dress festively, and she enjoyed how everything sparkled. Sometimes they would even have magical snow fall that was beautiful, but not cold. That was what she was really waiting on. (Even if there was snow outside, she wanted snow that didn't get her damp and cold.) People seemed to be in better moods, too, when it was closer to the holidays. Employees were nicer, and so few people wanted to spend the holiday alone that she tended to get a lot more attention.

Today she had decided to wear red and white, and pinned a poinsettia in her hair. She was perched at her little desk, flipping through a catalog and circling things she wanted, nearly missing the man as he passed by her desk without picking up his wand!

Georgianne smiled, and stood up. "Sir?" she called out, but he didn't seem to hear her. "Sir! You forgot to pick up your wand!" It wasn't particularly loud in the atrium today, but she couldn't just let him leave without getting it. Leaving her position, she hurried after him (not a simple task in the skirt and high heels), tugging gently on the sleeve on the black cloak he was wearing. She smiled brightly at him after gaining his attention.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but you forgot your wand at the desk. If you'll just follow me, I can get it for you. If you leave it here, you won't be able to get it after hours." Now that she had his attention, Georgianne turned and found her seat again. She picked up the check in papers, and scanned them. Without looking up to see if he had followed, she asked him what his name was so that she could get the right wand back for him. (Why wouldn't he follow? He needed his wand, and she looked so good walking away that lots of men followed behind her just to watch!)

Ari was distracted-- obviously, since he'd passed the prettiest girl in the place without a second glance.  He simply wasn't in the mood to leer, anymore.  However, when she tugged on his sleeve he had little choice but to turn and look.

He forgot every ounce of irritation he'd built up again the Ministry and its bureaucrats since walking in.  He smiled automatically-- he hadn't a chance to build up the proper interest that she deserved before she was walking away again.  Caught by surprise at her assumption, he stood still for a moment, mouth open as he intended to answer that he hadn't a wand.  By that time, he was transfixed by the sight of her slim red skirt swaying as she retreated.  Bemused, he followed.

He stared down at the top her her glossy, chestnut head, loose curls cascading over a neat stack of parchments as she scanned them.  If he stepped just a few inches to the left, he might have a better view of what the pretty red bow hid (and the scoop-necked top barely covered).  He fought the urge while she asked his name.

"Rintala," he answered.  "But I'm sorry to have put you to any trouble.  I don't have my wand any-- that is, I haven't a wand with me today."  He wasn't certain why he changed his wording.  It would be easy enough for her to ask around and discover his criminal status.  On the other hand, why would she?  She already automatically assumed that, like most people, he'd carried in a wand and checked it at the front desk.

Today was a waste.  He wouldn't get in any job-hunting this late in the day but his anger was already lifting.  Since the day was wasted, why not dally a few moments longer-- even if only to stare down this little Witch's bodice?  Surreptitiously, he shifted to the left.  Yes, the view was much improved.

With a wide smile, he rested his hands on the desk in front of her, leaning his weight in.  "Special mission.  I'm impersonating a Muggle, this week."  He leaned even further forward (and was rewarded with a shadowy hint of cleavage), lifted a finger playfully to his lips and said, "Shhhhhhhhhh.  Don't tell anyone.  Very hush-hush."  His eyes glittered with humor and his smile was warm and inviting, lifting a few of the worry-lines, making him seem years younger and a shade raffish.

"Rinatala," she repeated, flipping to the R's, but she didn't have a chance to get there before he told her that he did not have a wand with him today. What sort of wizard didn't carry his wand? Regardless of the circumstances. If Georgianne forgot hers, she would turn around and go home to get it, even if it was going to make her late. It was like a physical body part for magical people. You didn't just leave it at home. She arched a curious brow in his direction, but was distracted when he leaned against the desk.

There was something charming int he way he smiled. It lit up his features, and drastically increased his level of attractiveness. "Oh, is that what you're doing?" she asked, grinning. "Well, I think it would benefit you to know, Mr. Rintala, that muggles don't generally wear cloaks." Georgianne put the parchments away, still smiling at him, leaning forward, resting her chin on her hand. Her free hand was in her lap, and she tugged at her shirt, pulling it down just a hair- giving the man a better view of her cleavage. She had caught his glance, and decided to oblige. There was something about him... Mysterious and good looking. A nice mixture.

"So, are you a reporter of some sort then?" Georgianne asked. She knew he didn't work for the ministry. If he worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she would recognize him. Unless he was taking a polyjuice potion. But what would the DMLE be going undercover as a muggle? She didn't know what they did, but she knew it didn't make much sense. "I can't imagine what you could hope to learn going undercover as a muggle." It wouldn't be a very interesting article. Most wizards and witches didn't have any sort of extreme interest in the muggle world. In fact, most that she knew were relatively indifferent.

"So, Mr. Rintala, do you have a first name?" she asked, tilting her head and twirling a bit of hair around her finger. "Mine's Georgianne." If he was interested in flirting, and it seemed he was, who was she to deny him the chance? It was part of why she loved the job so much. There was an alarming number of good looking men who came in and out of the ministry, and she saw no reason not to entertain herself by cozying up to a few of them on occasion.

"Of course," he replied when she asked if he were a reporter-- making a mental note that he hadn't yet applied to either the Prophet or the other one, whatsis.  Maybe he might make a good reporter.  "A piece on Muggle Prostitutes," he elaborated, wondering if his lie would shock her and thinking of his mother.  Of course, his mum had been neither a prostitute nor a Muggle, but Muggle-born.  But the way his Gran spoke of her, she might as well have been.  "And the link between the industry and the rise in so-called 'Muggle-born' Wizarding births."  He smirked.  If he were to apply to the Prophet, he would bet anything that the scandalous suggestion (as well as a willingness to investigate) would earn him points.  He wished he'd thought of the cloak-- she obviously assumed he was joking rather than lying, which he half-was: joking and flirting.  It was all right that she caught him in a lie, since she laughed...

"And it's Ari," he said, brushing the hair from his eyes and dropping into an easy pose, parking himself on the edge of her desk and enjoying the view-- a view that seemed almost consciously offered.  Maybe it was his imagination...  And for a moment, he forgot his troubles and almost felt like the confident reporter he was joking about.  It was as if the last decade in Azkaban didn't exist.  He hadn't thought he was up to even flirting with Witches anymore...

Then again, there hadn't been any Witches flirting with him, either, greatly subduing his self-confidence and ego.  He knew he wasn't as attractive as he'd been as a lad of 17.  At the same rate, perhaps the years had added character to his charisma...

"So what happens if some hapless soul leaves their wand after hours?" he asked conspiratorially, glancing down appreciatively into the chasm of her bodice, his eyes dilating with interest until they looked more violet than blue.  "Surely you aren't expected to wait around for him?"

"Muggle prostitutes?" she asked. For a moment, Georgianne was worried he was trying to insinuate something about her. There were a lot of people who disagreed with the way she lived her life these days. Partying was a big priority, and men were second to that. She had a lot of fun, but she didn't see anything wrong with it. Georgianne was always safe about it, and if guys could go out and do as they pleased with whom they pleased, why couldn't she? She just couldn't win. In school she had been too thin, too tall, and too weird. Now she was too pretty, too ostentatious, and had too much fun. "Well, good luck with that. Takes a high roller to rub elbows with the ladies of the night. Even if they're just talking, they're going to charge you by the hour."

Ari was an interesting name, especially for a man. It was different, and she liked that. She also liked the way he was looking at her. It was important to Georgianne that men found her attractive, even men who weren't particularly attractive. She worked hard to maintain her appearance, and it made her feel good. After what she went through in school, being teased so often for being so tall, she liked to feel appreciated by men. It was necessary for her to maintain her current level of self esteem.

"Depends on who he is," she answered. "If he's worth waiting around for, I don't mind staying a little late to return his wand..." Georgianne trailed of, giving him another once over, before flashing him a bright smile. "If you left your wand, I might stick around a while longer to see if you came back for it." For men who extraordinarily good looking, Georgianne might even find their address on file and then take it to their homes. That had backfired only once before, the man had been married. He hadn't been wearing a wedding ring, though. Or she wouldn't have done it. "But if he, or she, isn't worth the time, he'll just have to wait until the next day to come and get it."

She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, leaning back to grin at him after her comment. Georgianne wasn't bisexual, but a lot of people assumed she was. Sometimes she would tease guys, and make them think that there was a chance of that. She had no problems kissing girls, but anything more, wasn't something she was interested in.

"So tell me, Mr. Rintala, does this assignment mean that you're going to be working nights for a while?" she asked. "That's no good, to have to work all night long. Takes away all the chances to go out and have a little fun." To go out and have a little fun with her. She wondered if he liked going to clubs. "Maybe one night you're not out investigating you might want to drop by Rumors? It's a little club in London I like to go to, plays great music. Do you like to dance, Mr. Rintala?"

When she pushed a bit of hair behind her ear, the motion cast interesting shadows across her cleavage-- obscuring and revealing at the same time.  Ari eyes were riveted so that he nearly missed her question.

"...does this assignment mean that you're going to be working nights for a while?"

He stiffened, reluctant to discuss precisely how he spent his nights, then realized it was the easiest answer and relaxed.  He shrugged.  "I'm unavailable most nights," he admitted.  "But once upon a time in another life, I loved to dance," he agreed.  "I'm just not certain whether I can manage to escape... my work... long enough."  The hesitation was nearly imperceptible. 

"However... I'm free now.  Tell me: do you like ice cream, Miss--"  Had she told him her last name?  Certain-- er-- attributes had distracted him.  He glanced up from them and realized her eyes were just as lovely as her other orbs.  "Georgianne?" he finished, hoping she'd dispense with formality so he wouldn't need to admit he didn't remember even a moment ago, if she'd told him her last name.

Reaching forward, Georgianne placed a gentle finger under Ari's chin, tilting it up ever so slightly. "I do appreciate the way you look at me, Mr. Rintala, but let's try to remember, at least for now, that my face is up here, hm?" He stiffened after she did it, and Georgianne assumed she had embarassed him, but then he relaxed, finally answering her question, letting her know that most nights he was unavailable.

"Now isn't any good, sir. I'm on the clock," she motioned around her. "I can't abandon my post! Who would keep all the big bad wolves out of the ministry?" Not that Georgianne was the sort most would consider to be skilled at keeping people out of anything. Still, she was good at her job and took it seriously, flirtation aside. "I won't be off the clock until around five thirty..." It varied, depending on the day. Sometimes around five, sometimes six, sometimes a little after. Generally varied on how Georgianne was feeling. The hours weren't very strict in her position. She tended to stay later if there was a chance to catch a good flirt some good looking law enforcement official.

"But I do like ice cream," she told him grinning. "Especially when it has whipped cream... and cherries." She sucked on her bottom lip, giving him a very mischievous glance through her eyelashes. "How much time have you got?" she finally asked him. "That's half an hour before I can leave. Can you spare a girl thirty minutes? I could meet you somewhere in town if you don't want to wait on me here." But if he didn't want to wait on her here, then he probably wasn't going to have her meet him. Georgianne demanded a certain level of attention from men she was going to go out with.

Far from embarrassing him, her light fingertips under the tip of his chin were incite-ful and her eyes were lovely.  Thirty minutes...

He captured her hand with his own, for the moment remembering the charm and charisma he had once commanded-- albeit juvenile and underdeveloped, since he'd barely been a man when he'd gone to Azkaban.  He touched the perfectly-manicured tips of her fingertips to his lips-- more of a promise than a kiss-- and pinned her with his own brilliantly deep-blue eyes, hair falling away from his face as if by design, head tilted forward just slightly so that he looked up through impossibly thick, dark lashes.  Many times as a young man, he'd been told how unfair it was that such lashes were wasted on a boy.  Ari never thought so... he could use them to great effect on women, just by glancing at them just so.

"There will be whipped cream and cherries, I assure you."  When he smiled at her, there was promise in his eyes but the smile stopped just shy of becoming a proposition.  He really was a gentleman.  If the smile didn't quite reach all the way to his eyes, perhaps it wasn't noticeable.  "Thirty minutes is sufficient.  I have an errand of my own to attend.  May I meet you here at the end of your shift?" he asked.  "I'm not as familiar with London as I once was..."

Thirty mintutes was sufficient.  If she wanted cherries and whipped cream... The streets of London were riddled with Muggle saps just waiting to be mugged.  Ari wouldn't even have to use magic to relieve them of a few... pounds.  Ah... Muggles used paper money.  How would he explain that?  No, he'd have to find a likely Wizard if he was to gain a few extra knuts for this evening's excursion.

Ari Rintala had never mugged anyone before in his life.  For that matter, he'd never stolen anything, either.  His main claim to fame was poor judgment-- to which he was about to add another count.  I'm treated like a criminal anyway, he thought.  I may as well live up to their expectations.  Perhaps he'd take enough for a change of clothing, as well: something fashionable.  What were stylish young wizards wearing these days, he wondered.  Not that it mattered: wizards would always be an eclectic bunch.  All he needed was something a bit less shabby than the Ministry-issued black robe and his artfully-torn old tee and leather trews.

Now, his smile reached his eyes with that thought.  Things were looking up, indeed.  This little witch looked as if she had money-- her dress was impeccable.  With a few well-placed knuts of courtship, he might find his troubles were past him...

She giggled quietly when his lips brushed her fingertips. She was at work, so she had to watch her behavior. Otherwise a very suggestive gesture would have followed. But his eyes- they were to die for. Georgianne had a soft spot for blue eyes, often enchanting her own to appear blue. His were just so bright and clear and riveting. She still couldn't figure out what it was about this man that made him attractive, but those eyes sure as hell helped...

Georgianne grinned. "Of course you can!" If she knew, though, who he was she might not be so keen to meet him here. If any of the DMLE saw her with a convict, they would have something to say. Not that Georgianne was aware of any of this. She assumed he was just another wizard on an errand in the ministry. "I'll be right here. But if you're late, I can't promise that a better offer won't come along..."

"But you meet me here, and I know a great icecream shoppe a few blocks up, close to my flat." Georgianne through that fact in there for an obvious reason. If he was busy nights, he obviously couldn't afford to spend the night with her. So, if things went well, and she felt like it might be worth her time, Georgianne might have to make do with a little afternoon delight. If he was that type of man. It was surprising how often she ran into the man who wasn't. She contented herself with assuming that they were just intimidated by a woman so aware of what she wanted and not at all afraid to try and get it.

"Don't you forget about me, handsome," she said, shooing him off. "Go on, I'll get in trouble if you keep distracting me. I can't afford to lose my job over the first good looking guy to come along... Half an hour, Mr. Rintala. See you soon." She gave him a coy little finger wave before pretending to focus on the paperwork in front of her.

Bemused, Ari allowed her to push him off toward the Floo Network which serviced the Witches and Wizards who worked within the Ministry.  The corners of his lips turned upward in fond amusement.  '...The first good-looking guy to come along...'  Was he, now?  His smile grew... he liked this little Witch more and more.  She was awfully young-- not much more than a girl-- but she knew how to flirt and she was possessed of the necessary... charms.

Obligingly, he took several steps toward the massive fireplaces.  '...Half an hour, Mr. Rintala. See you soon... and she crooked her index finger at him in a tiny wave as he cast a glance back over his shoulder at her.  He looked away again when he nearly bumped into a crimson-clad wizard nearly a foot shorter than he was hurrying across the atrium, probably on his way home to his wife and children after a hard day at the office.  The little man murmured apologies without really looking at Ari and then hurried on his way.

It wasn't lost on Ari, that the ice cream shoppe Georgianne suggested was near her flat.  Although this seemingly innocent information thrilled him-- since it meant perhaps he might end up there-- it worried him as well.  He hadn't chosen to be celibate since his release, but opportunities during daylight hours were slim-- and his nighttime hours were none.  Had he honestly come upon a woman who didn't mind a little friendly, sweaty, daytime romp with no strings attached?  His doubts remained...

With new purpose, he made a bee-line away from the Floo toward the elevator that took visitors to ground level.  Stepping into the unoccupied phone booth, he slipped off his visitor's badge with a snick and inserted it into the the phone's coin slot.  A soft whir sounded and a click, then a smooth, quiet, female voice announced, 'Visit completed.  Returning to street level.  Please keep hands and arms inside the vehicle at all time...'

The doors sighed and began to close, but were stopped as an arm from inside the Ministry Atrium shot in, blocking them.  The doors paused, slid back open to admit another wizard, and waited while he fumbled his visitor's badge into the coin slot.  A whir as the phone booth considered the badge-- Ari chuckled, wondering if the thing was tasting it to check authenticity-- and then again the voice soothed, 'Second passenger confirmed: Visit completed.  Returning to street level.  Please keep hands and arms inside the vehicle at all time...'

And this time, the doors completed their journey unmolested, closed securely with a sigh, and quiet music sounded from somewhere Ari couldn't see.  He prepared himself for a boring ride, clasping his hands behind his back and looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the street approaching.  The other wizard turned toward him. "So why did you come to the Ministry, today?" he asked suddenly in a conversational tone.

Surprised, Ari glanced down from the booth's ceiling.

"I mean, this is my first visit," he chattered amiably.  "I've never been anyplace so... important.  Maybe it might be cool to work here.  But I've been trying to pass my Apparitions license for the longest time.."  He puffed up proudly.  "Did it today!"  He waved the parchment under Ari's nose triumphantly.

Ari examined the young man seriously.  He couldn't be more than twenty-- probably less, since he prattled so much about personal things to a stranger, although he might simply be one of those babes who never grew up.  He wasn't precisely well- dressed-- more of an 'unkempt middle-class suburban teen' look.  He carried a knapsack and wore a white shirt, buttoned fully but partially untucked, with belling sleeves, dark dungarees and a blue knitted vest with tie.  It reminded Ari of the old Hogwarts uniform-- and the tie was red, irritating him.  "Do tell," he said with a wry crook to his mouth.  This could be easier than I thought...  The boy wasn't quite as tall as Ari, but weighed perhaps the same...

...Thirty minutes later, Ari returned to the Ministry via phone-booth, neatly dressed with dark dungarees tucked into the top of his pointy-toed boots to hide the fact that they were perhaps three inches too short.  His crisply starched white shirt was unbuttoned at the throat-- baring an interesting stretch of neck to the collar bone-- and his sleeves were rolled loosely to the elbow, again to hide the length, though his tattoos were visible which annoyed him.

His own clothing and the Ministry-issued cloak were rolled up in the knapsack and carried on one shoulder.  The hem of the boy's cloak only went to mid-calf on Ari, but it couldn't be helped.  Though it was black as well, it was finer quality, in better repair.  He strode confidently toward the help-desk, looking for his pretty little date, a swing in his step and lips pursed as he whistled a chipper little tune...

Georgianne had no doubt that the man was going to return shortly, ready to spend a few hours in her company. So she contented herself with re-organizing her desk for the last half hour, as well as making a list of people who had yet to retrieve their wands and other belongings. She locked all the drawers of the desk, then carely cast a ward on them. The piece of parchment which listed the belongings and names was left on the counter around her desk, informing everyone that they could retrieve everything tomorrow morning when the ministry opened.

She was just packing everything away in her bag when he returned, looking much better dressed than when he left. Georgia arched an eyebrow, but said nothing about it, instead giving him a bright smile. "Somebody seems to be in a particularly good mood," she commented, standing up from her seat. She pulled her jacket on, and was going to loop her arm through Ari's when she noticed his tattoos.

Georgianne had always wanted a tattoo, but had always been too afraid to get one. "Oooh," she exclaimed quietly, holding his arm in one hand, using the fingers of her free hand to trace the exposed flesh with interest. "What do they mean?" she asked, looking up at him, enjoying the blue of his eyes yet again. "I haven't seen any like this before!" Georgia decided that she liked them, too. They looked good on him and they were interesting. She had met boys at clubs with lots of tattoos- the sort who barely had any exposed skin. Typically they all looked the same, but these were different.

"I've always wanted one," she confessed, releasing his hand to turn around. She lifted her shirt, exposing her lower back, and looked at him over her shoulder. "Right there. Something fun and girly." She shimmied a little as she put her shirt back down, being sure that he had a nice look at what she had to offer back there before finally linking her arm with his.

She guided them gently toward the lift so that they could exit up to the streets of London. "I hope you don't mind the walk," she said to him. "It's only a couple of blocks away, though. And the weather wasn't too bad earlier. Unless it's changed since then. If it's unbearable, I can keep us warm." Georgianne meant she could use her wand to cast a spell that would prevent them from getting cold. but let him read into it what he would. "I don't think I have ever gone for ice cream in the middle of winter... I'll have to get something warm. Like a hot fudge brownie sundae! Mmm."

Georgianne impressed Ari by being ready to leave the moment he arrived.  In his experience, girls required men to wait at least ten minutes, even when they had no good reason.  When she reached for him arm, he smiled warmly down at her... but his smile faltered minutely when she asked about his tattoos.  Normally, he would have tugged at the sleeve to hide them, even if that was useless with them rolled up to his elbows.  Instead, he teased her. 

"This one means, 'I like pretty girls,' in Sanskrit."  He caught her fingers as they slid up his arm to trace the marks, guiding them to a simple one that looked somewhat like FTn if it had been from the Greek alphabet.   Instead, it was alu, the rune that drew all the other patterns on his arms into a coherent incantation-- an amulet, if you will.  Ari himself, with these tattoos, was a walking good luck charm... or a curse.

"This one is to warn pretty girls that I might bite," he continued, drawing her captured index finger down a full sentence that snaked round and round his arm from bicep to wrist like a vine.  It read, "Haidz runo runu, falh'k hedra ginnarunaz. Argiu hermalausz, ... weladauşe, saz şat brytz. Uşarba spa."  I, master of the runes conceal here power. Incessantly plagued by maleficence and doomed to insidious death is he who this breaks. I prophesy destruction.  Utterly pompous yet effectively threatening-- if anyone could translate the runes.  A similar curse could be seen on the Stentoften and Bjorketorp Runestones of Sweden.  Ari thought it was a nice touch... and the ribbon of odd words was attractive.

Then she did something which utterly surprised him: she hiked up her blouse in the back and pointed out a bit of tender skin where she professed the desire for her own tattoo... Had they been in a more private location, he might have had something winning to say-- perhaps grabbed her round the waist, planted a kiss there and offered to make it permanent.  He restrained himself, licking his lips a bit awkwardly with the thought, and then she dropped her shirt again and linked her arm in his.  He heaved a sigh of relief.  Did the little wench even realize that tiny bit of frail flesh was like waving manna from Heaven under a starving man's lips?  A tiny bit of soft, velvet, fragrant, warm, silky, enticing...

'...I don't think I have ever gone for ice cream in the middle of winter... I'll have to get something warm. Like a hot fudge brownie sundae! Mmm.'

Ari shook himself, already having missed half of what she said.  "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted, laughing nervously.  She unhinged him.  It was true, though: he hadn't thought of the cold outside when he'd offered to take her for ice cream.  He'd only thought to himself how long it had been since he'd had ice cream.  Soft, velvety smooth chocolate ice cream...

He blinked.  "Hot fudge.  Yes, that would warm you.  Or hot apple pie a la mode..."  The latter sounded very good to Ari.  "If you'd rather, we could go to a diner?"  He was off-balance, now, just from that tiny bit of skin and from the faux pas of offering a woman ice cream in December.  She seemed to be a good sport about it.  It was a very good thing... since Ari's last date had been a trip to Fortescue's and it had automatically come to mind rather than a "grownup" date of dinner and a show perhaps...

Georgianne giggled when he caught her hand, leading her fingers to trace specific tattoos on his arms. She never was interested in runes, and hadn't taken the class. When he told her that the long meant that he bite, she grinned. "Is it a warning or a promise?" she prompted hopefully. If she knew him a bit better, or if they were in a more private location, she might have emphasized her hopes by offering him a playful nip. But Georgianne had already gotten in trouble at the ministry for biting in public. Apparently it wasn't very professional.

She was completely oblivious that the man was having the exact sam ethoughts as she was. He was older, so she assumed he was much more calm and collected. Even his nervous laugh and offer to change their plans didn't hint at anything. Then again, Georgianne was barely out of Hogwarts herself. Even though she regularly went out with older men, her maturity level wasn't very high. She enjoyed simple dates, but then again, she was technically a teenager still...

"Well, we can go to dinner if you'd prefer, but I did have my heart set on ice cream. I've been thinking about it since you left... But if you get dinner, I can provide dessert." And every innuendo that could be interpretted from that comment, was most certainly an innuendo that Georgianne meant to insinuate. She had no shame, really. If ever there was a woman who was a reflection of every male who tried to use every lame pick up line and was turned down 100% of the time- it was Georgia. Somehow, though, those tactics worked for a woman...

Georgia guided him toward the lift, placing her work badge in the slot and waiting on it to bring them up to street level. She released his arm long enough to pull her jacket a bit tighter. "Aren't you cold?" she asked, breathing out in front of her, watching it condense in the air. "I've never been a fan of cloaks... Well, if I had one that was lined in a nice fur maybe. I like fur. But it's so expensive. Good fur is, anyway. And there's no point if it's faux fur." Yes, she was high maintenance. If something wasn't the best and wasn't the real thing, then it was likely that Georgianne would not waste her money on it.

After rubbing her arms a little, and giving herself a chance to get used to the bitter breeze, Georgianne pulled him closer to her, keeping her arm wrapped around his. "Come, I'll keep you warm. Maybe hot chocolate with the ice cream? I bet that would be a delectable! I love hot chocolate, especially if there is caramel in it..." She licked her lips at the thought, having decided she was likely going to end up eating way too much. Georgia was definitely going to have to increase her exercise the following day to make up for this.