Office work! Around Christmas of all things!  It was like a sacrilegious experience, something so offensive to the senses that Margo was dulled with boredom and  the same warbly Christmas songs spinning from the communal wireless.  The winter months were not particularly active, excepting those that wished to transfer from mountains in one very cold place to a place that they assumed would have a slightly more temperate feeling… only to find out that it did not, in fact, matter.  That was most of what was going on now, and as Margo sat in her chair, facing the cubicle with some funny Christmas cards (most notably a gnome with a santa hat making faces and lewd gestures), displayed, Margo sighed.

She went to run her hand through her hair, realizing that she had completely forgotten about the elf hat she had thrown on earlier – part in jest and part for the seriousness of the holiday and the fact that it was days before Christmas and she was stuck in this dreadful place.  At least they had been kind enough to make it snowing outside of the windows, add a bit of cheer to the situation that was currently plaguing her life.  She wished she was in the mountains, around a fire with a bunch of guys drinking more than cooking up some dinner to get ready to ring in the holiday.  That was a real Christmas preparation!

Filing paperwork and having meetings was not so much what Margo wanted to do.  But, she had one scheduled for the next half hour, and shoving a folder into one of the drawers on her desk, Margo sighed.  The whole thing was an absolute mess.  She did not know how she was allowed to do these things – to be in an environment that was so controlled, but she supposed that she was doing what she had to do, be controlled.

Spinning again in her office chair, Margo caught a glimpse of the map on the wall.  Glittering oceans, high mountain ranges, and pictures of little Dragons moving about their known habitats, there were little dots near those dragons, each representing a British person in that territory.  If one used a magnifying glass, each was labeled with a name.  She knew where they all were and could move them as she wished and they requested.  It was a fairly awesome job, when it wasn’t so boring.

Getting up from her desk, she kicked her stiff leg out, grimacing slightly at the pain of having a stiff limb, that didn’t really exist at that, and then stood shakily at first and yawned, stretching her arms out.  She went to move toward the tea station, hoping there was something strong hanging out around there – a lot of the people in this department were world travelers, there was always a wide assortment available of different strengths, and she gladly sauntered up to grab something, pouring the perpetually hot water into her “DANGER: DRAGON AREA” mug. 

Lifting it to her lips, she smelled the strong aroma and sighed, happily.  It smelled heavenly and putting it to her lips, she tasted it.  It was exactly what she needed, and trudging back to her desk, itching at the trousers that hugged her hips with one hand while carrying the mug with the other.  She looked at the watch on her wrist.  Late. Always late!  Why was it that when she had to sit around and wasn’t the one who was going to the appointment everyone else had to be late?
 
She flopped in her chair and put the tea on the desk, blowing a raspberry of exasperation.  “I hate when people are late!” she declared, throwing her head back, the bells atop her elf hat jingling the entire time. 

So many different walks of life could be yours when you leave Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. There were medi-witches, healers, poitioneers, wand and broom makers, quidditch stars, and of course the ministry. There was always the ability of someone with his grades and his talents to join the ministry without so much as a wiff of questionable decisions. Though while others sought the work of behind the desk and behind closed doors, The life that suited him best was a little more rough and tumble than most would like. When some would shrink back and hide from the danger, Dexter faced it head on. Much like he dealt with raising his daughter. Eager to become a father in his youth, Dexter had gone at the task full force... in more ways than one. Now he had an almost grown daughter, who in his humble opinion hung the moon.

What worried him most was the age his young child was rapidly approaching. It was the age when little girls blossomed into young ladies and little boys became slime balls who wanted to ruin the virtue of a father's pride and joy. Okay perhaps that was an exaggeration, but Dexter knew about such things, he was a little boy once. He knew how the mind of a young man worked, it wasn't too long ago he was hiding in broom closets and snogging his former flame avoiding being caught by prefects and professors alike.

The worst yet was his daughters friendship with her best mate. It had all the earmarks of trouble brewing. Though he couldn't be sure of it, Dexter assumed he was going to have to have to bring the young man he had known for several years now, out back to explain how he didn't mind going to Azkaban in defense of his daughter's good name. Shaking his head from the swirling thoughts, Dexter realized he was blowing an awkward situation completely out of proportion.

Putting his personal nonsense on the back burner, Dex realized he was off in his own little world giving his responsibilities of the morning little thought. Finally getting himself pointed in the right direction, Dexter headed to the ministry with very important papers in hand. They were transfer papers, he was leaving his beloved Romania and transferring to the Wales facility so that he might be home for his daughter instead of relying on the housekeeper to hold down the fort and keep order. Entering the Ministry, Dex found that he looked much like those milling about. Wearing his usual black dyed Dragon Skin boots, and the casual dark black cloak he owned for several years, Dex made short work of the distance from the entrance to the office in which he needed to file the paperwork.

There however he heard someone mention a rather breathy expression of grief on those who were always late. Grinning a little at the cheek, he popped his head into view and gave a winning smile “I do hope that it was not I who left you waiting...” Coming into full view Dex assessed the person before him a small smile crossing his lips.

If there was something that would have been a little more embarrassing to Margo, she was having a hard time thinking of it.  With her eyes closed, head leaned back and elf bells jingling, she was able to hear the approach of footsteps, but not stop her mouth from opening and spewing out her words of frustration.  Well, that was just well and good.  Frowning softly, the footsteps were walking right toward her, and opening one eye, tilted back over that chair, she realized that the footsteps were carrying a very familiar person right toward her little corner of the department for control and regulation of magical creatures.

Almost as soon as she saw the face of the upside down person, Margo had to scramble to get out of her chair, pushing herself, practically giving herself whiplash as the bells hit against her forehead.  That was so going to leave a mark.  Stumbling up, she grinned awkwardly and tried to stand steady on her booted feet.  She buckled the knee that could, while the other stood stiff, her arm roved for something to grab, which, of course, knocked the freshly made tea onto the carpet.  Beautiful.

Chuckling awkwardly, Margo cleared her throat and ran her hand through her hair – or tried, until she bumped the hat and nervously went to grab it, clutching the green velvet-like material in her fingers.  “Dexter!” she gave a half-grin, full of recognition for the man who did not leave his name when the appointment was scheduled.  She had no idea.  Was this some kind of a sick joke or something?  When did Christmas pranks become acceptable and why hadn’t anyone told her? 

She quickly put the hat back on her head – no idea why and grinned at him, walking forward to give him a hug, as that was what friends reunited did, right? And Margo never had a problem with hugging, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages! How’s it going? How’s your daughter? “  She pulled away and motioned to the chair next to the desk against the wall, not the prettiest thing – brown and lumpy around places, but comfortable, “What brings you here?  I thought I was getting a business meeting, not a social call!”

Once she got started, it was really hard to shut Margo up, and clearly, with people she knew, it was even harder.  “Godric! This is such a surprise!” She couldn’t stop grinning and she plopped back down in her chair, “What can I do for you, Dex?”

Dexter hadn't expected to see Margo tumble the way she did or spill the tea, it brought a smirk to his face, she wasn't expecting to see him.  Granted if it wasn't for the accident, he wouldn't have expected to see her in this office either. Dexter knew Margo as a long dedicated field agent, they had been close mates in Romania, and he adored her as a person. There was little he wouldn't have done for her, in fact he was there when the worst had hit. She was someone that he often corresponded with while he stayed and she went off to treatment, though over time he had been consumed with worry for his daughter and her education. Now back in the area, he was look for a transfer and she was just the coordinator he was seeking out. "It goes well, it really does. My daughter is partly why I am here" the pleasantries once exchanged, Dexter looked at the tea on the carpet and shot his wand in it's direction. Dexter wasn't one to let stains set in, even when it wasn't his office, he felt partially responsible since he startled her so.

When she came over and gave him a hug, Dexter gladly provided one back, "It is more than just your average social call my dear friend. It seems my daughter has gotten herself into a spot of trouble at school, and this leaves me in a rather awkward situation. You see it is very hard to leave Romania at a moments notice to come home and sort out the mess as a good father should, I asked and reluctantly they relented to let me seek a transfer. So here I am," pulling from his cloak a rather official looking document. "Much of the papers are here, I wasn't sure what more you might need considering it's not every day a man seeks to leave the job." Dexter felt much like a deserter from his cause, Dragons were his life and the only thing that could make him change was his daughter and her needs. Maddie had always come first, this was no different.

Taking the seat in the lumpy piece of furniture, Dexter felt himself sink in comfortably. "Nothing better than a broken in chair eh?" He said with a relaxed sigh, "You look great Margo, I was hoping it would be you that I got a chance to see today. I figured it was, but one can never be sure anymore with turnaround in the ministry and the like."

Ah, the daughter.  That would make sense.  Margo was happy he was having a good time, but it seemed that something had changed in circumstance.  After all, over a year ago he had happily been in Romania with his daughter here in England (he talked about her all of the time), but now he was here.  Interesting.  Of course, then he started to explain and Margo’s head began to bob up and down in understanding.

She was no stranger to getting in trouble; in fact, her parents had been owled by Hogwarts on more than one occasion during her time there, so she couldn’t blame the girl and grinned a little as she pulled away from Dexter, “Good for her,” she declared, “Every girl needs her rebellious moments.”  It was true.  She believed that every child really, regardless of gender, should get into trouble.  It showed that they were growing, expanding and pushing the limits.  Who didn’t want to push the limits of acceptability?  Margo had been doing that since she was a baby she supposed, and thought it was good that his daughter was starting to discover the joys of rebellion, though Dexter seemed to be paying the price.  Was that how her parents felt?

The corners of her mouth creased in thought for a moment and she shook her head.  In the past now, she figured, and they never mentioned it now, so it was onto business already.  Looking at the papers he fanned out, most of them being exactly what she needed.  She plucked them from his hand with a bright smile, feeling much more at ease and started to thumb through, looking at the titles and numbers on the documents.  It seemed to be in order, though he was missing the formal request sheet, amusingly enough.  As she plopped into her chair, Margo grinned at him, “Two seconds!” she chirped.

Pulling out a piece of parchment from a folder, Margo slid it over to him, “Just need to fill this out,” she grinned.  It was easy enough, “Just initial here, and write your intent for transfer as well as target destination.”  It was the official part and grinning at him, she leaned back in her spinny chair, swerving just a tad as she settled down.  Of course, when he said she looked great, Margo could not help but smile and sit up straighter like a show pony, holding her head high, fluffing her hair a bit. 

“Oh, I know,” she teased gently, giggling a bit at herself, “How could they fire someone as beautiful as me? Really?” she giggled again and smirked, leaning back and slouching in her chair to some degree before picking up his papers again, looking through them a little more carefully.  “Wales, eh?”  she looked at the target destination, “I worked there when I first started.  Very nice reserve,” she nodded in approval, “Not quite the same pace or danger level as Romania though,” she warned, “you won’t be saving the lives of beautiful women like you were back east.” 

Letting out a sigh, he sank further into the brown chair. If he didn't know any better he would swear the ruddy thing was molding around his rear-end, it was quite comfortable. Merlin only knew how he was going to force himself out of the chair. Never had he felt like he should call for help to get out of a chair before, but there was always a first for everything.

Dexter groaned heavily when she was seemingly approved of his daughter's behavior, "No no, if she starts behaving like me as a child I will never rest again. What is worse is I think that she is growing up to fast," he wanted to explain about how he spotted a stunned Maddie and Ferris in his foyer of the home he shared with his most beloved daughter. To think that they were standing there like that, he couldn't believe it. Ferris had looked like the cat that ate the canary and Maddie was not much better at concealing their actions. Dexter however decided that playing dumb was the smartest way to go and damn near kicked the teen boy out of his home before hearing the excuses. "I worry about what is going to happen next..." he looked down for a second and looked back up at Margo.

She had always been very pretty, most of the blokes he worked with had fancied her, he always thought she was a great mate and when he dragged her to safety he felt even closer to her. "Beautiful and modest mind you," Dexter chuckled as he heard her give some self serving compliments. He didn't disagree, her beauty would have been obvious to a blind beggar on the street. He just thought it was funny how she warmly complimented her own appearance, there weren't many lasses who could pull that without sounding obnoxious or snobby.

If he had been in the presence of a snit, he likely would have signed his paperwork and went on his merry way. However in the company was good, so there was no rush to run off. "See here I am thinking I have everything in order and yet as usual I do not," he took the paper into his hand. Signing and initialing as required he slipped the sheet back in her direction, "Alas I shall not be the knight in shining armor I was so accustom to being back in Romania." Rolling his eyes a little he gave a gruff laugh, "Perhaps I will just grow old and fat here in Wales and they can just roll me out one day to feed the local Dragons." Snickering a little, he placed the quill down again, "So how have you been settling down since leaving Romania? I guess life isn't half as exciting as it used to be..." He knew what was waiting for him back on this side of the map, it didn't mean he had to love it.

Raising her eyebrows, Margo wondered what he could have possibly meant about growing up too fast.  She had a vague idea that there was something in the way of boys being insinuated, since Margo had always heard that from her parents, a constant source of worry with those of the male persuasion, particularly in her last two years at school, but Maddie wasn’t that old, was she?  Maybe she had just started to develop or something, that would make any father nervous, right?  Of course, Margo just smiled easily and shrugged, “If she’s anything like our kind of people,” she motioned in between them, meaning adventurers and excitement seekers, “She’ll turn out alright in the end, regardless.”
 
She believed that, above most everything else, things worked themselves out when they needed to.  She wasn’t the type to intervene, she just let things fly at her when they happened.  Probably not always the best decision, but hey, it had gotten her this far, and she was fairly successful.  Shrugging, she leaned back in her chair and grinned a bit, wanting to rib her work partner a tad, “Besides, I’m sure it keeps you on your toes and you need that sort of thing.”  She looked him over, “I can already see the boring settling in – maybe a bit about the stomach,” she motioned toward him, insinuating he was getting chubby, though not actually meaning it at all.

A laugh bubbled up from her chest and she raised her eyebrows at him.  He was certainly not getting fat.  He looked just as she remembered him in Romania, though far less ragged at this point.  Being on the reserve did not allow one a lot of time for personal grooming, which she supposed England had done well for both of them in that regard, Margo actually took a proper shower once a day now, rather than once a week.  She was sure that Lizard appreciated it, and even more than that, anyone she saw on a daily basis.  It improved almost everything, including her ‘modesty.’ 

Her grin stretched across her face, crossing her faux ankle over the real one, stretching out a tad.  She kicked out her long limbs, feeling the pull in one calf and almost having that mimed limb sort of feeling in the other.  Dexter was well aware of her injury, which did not bother her at all, and she waited for his paper to be signed, completing the load of paperwork.  “There’s always more paperwork, Pratt, always – we’re a very tightly run bureaucracy,” she informed him with a bit of a cheeky smile, putting all the parchment in order.  Probably the least favorite part of her job to begin with, now she actually found some solace in organizing.  It was slightly traumatizing, knowing she enjoyed something that could be seen as so… mind-numbing, but it was a different type of work – she always had to balance that in her mind, just different. 

Laughing brightly, Margo was not the type to giggle like an idiot.  She let out a full laugh and imagined Dexter Pratt getting fat and old – almost impossible, and giving up that armor?  She shook her head, her brown hair bouncing as she did, “You’ll always be in armor to me,” she flirted innocently, a devilish grin on her face, “It might rust a bit, but it’ll always be there.”  Fair assessment, she figured, and placed the papers into a file that she put into the requests bin on the top of her desk.  She would submit it for approval by the board later in the afternoon, right before lunch – as was customary, and she was glad to shoot the breeze a little while she waited for that point.  It could have been worse – she might have actually had more than one thing to do! 

“I used to hate it,” she admitted freely, “but my cubicle has grown on me, and the co-workers aren’t so bad.  Most people are like me -” she laughed, continuing on to an explanation, “left the field for something a little more suited to their needs.  Though, I must admit, I have the absolute coolest reason for leaving field work, but since I’ve established my supremacy in the arena of cool, that should come as no surprise to you.” 

Her smile turned sly, and she winked at him, “I find ways to make my own excitement anyhow.   I always have.  Perhaps, since you’ll just be tumbling about with dragons equivalent to puppies all day, you could find out.”  Harmless, of course, and she put her arms behind her head, in a fully relaxed position – definitely not the standard ministry employee.  “Any exciting holiday plans? Other than hiding the mistletoe from your daughter, of course."