Ackerly was not aware of any auror who particularly enjoyed a visit to Tawse's pub. He knew that he most certainly did not enjoy them, and rather wished he did not have to make them. But ever since Nicola Randall's release, and his being assigned as her ministry supervisor, they had become increasingly frequent. Once a week the ex-azzie was supposed to check in with him to make certain that she was following the rules and being properly reintroduced to mainstream society. And, naturally, once a week Ackerly found himself having to track the blasted woman down to conduct the interviews because she refused to come of her own accord. It was a bloody nightmare.

So, not for the first time, Ackerly found himself stopping first by Moira Randall's flat to see if Nicola was there- she claimed it was her residence, and upon finding her not at home he made his way to Knockturn to the pub where she apparently worked. Or perhaps she just spent all of her time their and claimed to be employed- whatever the truth may be, Ackerly knew he could find her there.

Those in the scarlet ministry robes were not welcomed on Knockturn, even less so in such establishments. In fact, the Black Chimaera had a placard clearly stating "no aurors". Like they gave a damn about the rules that a criminal put in place. They knew some fishy stuff was going on here, they just had to figure out what it was. But that was not Ackerly's current mission- and since he only had a legal right to be there to be after Nicola, he would keep his nose to himself instead of sticking it where it most certainly did not belong. There was no need to cause a riot just to do a weekly interview with a stubborn witch of a woman who seemed incapable of finding her way to the ministry at the pre-approved time and date.

Ackerly grumbled loudly at those in the alley who dared give him a sidelong glance, entering the pub with an air of importance. "Randall," he stated firmly, catching sight of the woman. "Are you are that forty-five minutes ago you were supposed to be at the Ministry of Magic?" he asked flatly. "I'm sure you were aware, because I do recall sending an owl just yesterday to remind you, and the response that you sent back claimed you would see me tomorrow. It's tomorrow, and you were no where to be found."

He approached her as he spoke, crossing his arms much in a way that an angry father would with his child. "There are stipulations for your release and your ability to remain free in the wizarding world," he reminded her. "You skip our meeting one more time, and make me come and find you, and I'll stick your ass back in a cell until it rots. Understand?"

“We’re closed!” Nicola stated loudly as the door behind her swung open and she heard footsteps coming towards her. About to spin around and tell the no doubt drunken idiot to haul his butt back outside, Nicola froze as she heard the stern voice state her surname. If it wasn’t the handsome auror that had recently taken up stalking her! What a lovely surprise!

She didn’t even need to turn around from her seat at the table as the auror did the work for her and approached, entering the ex-azzie’s line of view. She smirked, a hand reaching up to her hair to brush the strays behind her ear. If she’d known he would come all the way here she’d have made sure to be dressed. As it was, the woman wasn’t even given a chance to speak as she was berated oh so rudely.

"You skip our meeting one more time, and make me come and find you, and I'll stick your ass back in a cell until it rots. Understand?"

Dark eyes scowled up at the auror and Nicola’s lips pursed, forming a thin pink line. She didn’t say a word in response, instead choosing to lift her tea mug to her lips and sip. The idiotic red robe sporting power hungry, inadequately hung auror could wait a little longer. He was usually made to. Nicola didn’t appreciate the fact she was expected to return to the ministry every damn week when she’d been released, innocent of a murder charge. Unfortunately, the smuggling still stood on her record. This brainless man meat would be stalking her for another year yet. Oh the joys the ministry provided her with.

“Your deluded version of power would be endearing to me if I didn’t abhor you so very much, Auror Fox.” The witch stated plainly as she placed the mug on the table and dug into the pocket of her dressing gown to produce a packet of cigarettes. “You’re about as likely to get me sent to Azkaban again as I am to be employed at your overambitious, slug-run ministry.” Nicola had been released. She had not murdered anyone as far as the ministry now knew and the Wizemgambot had set her free. The young Randall simply decided to ignore the terms of this release.

“Despite your delusions, I was actually going to be leaving to see you as soon as I had had a cup of tea and gotten dressed.  Eight thirty is a ridiculous time for a meeting.” Still the woman made no move to rise from the chair; instead she fumbled with the packet to procure one lone cigarette which was then placed between her pale lips.

Ackerly ignored the woman's barking out that they were closed. He was well aware that they were closed, but he didnt' give a damn. And the fact that she was keeping company with the likes of Tawse made him want to find a reason to lock her back up even more. Seriously, criminals should all just be left to rot in a cell in Azkaban. They didn't deserve to have any freedom, and they certainly did not deserve a wand.

"I'm glad you seem to think me incapable, Randall. I've learned that being underestimated can be the most effective tool in any man's arsenal. You go on thinking I can't put you in Azkaban, and next when you don't show up I'll prove to you otherwise." He crossed his arms as he studied her,watching her place a cigarette in her mouth. Disgusting habit, smoking. It did nothing for the health, it made you smell bad, and it ruined your teeth. He never understood why anyone picked it up. And if she lit that cigarette, he would not be pleased. The smoke agitated his sensitive allergies.

Ackerly fought the urge to pull up a chair and have a seat. Admitting that he would give her the time to do as she pleased would not be an advantageous way to handle this woman. He detested her, that much was certain. And as much as he detested her, and her inability to arrive to her pre-scheduled weekly screenings, he let her get away with a hell of a lot more than he desired. Not by his own choice. The system was fallible, even he could admit that. "I get up every morning at five-thirty," he countered. "I run for an hour, I take a shower, I get dressed, I go to work. Despite your ability to be lazy and have a half-assed job, Randall, some of us keep regular hours. Eight-thirty is the time before the day picks up. I can't be scheduling working on cases around your whimsical arrival."

The auror reached out, intending to take the cigarette from her lips. "And this is one habit you could stand to lose, along with countless others that make you an undesirable citizen... I don't have time to deal with your insubordination today. I've got a lot to get done." Mostly in relation to the werewolf cases that the ministry seemed to be getting a lot of lately. It was no secret to anyone his distaste for the foul beasts.

"So I need you to quit stalling, go put on something decent, and come with me to the ministry. And if you don't want to do it willingly, I'll just haul you off by the scruff of your neck. And don't put it past me. I highly doubt a frail thing like you could challenge me."

If this big male idiot in a fancy uniformed robe with a face that said ‘I’m a bigoted idiot, laugh at me’ actually spoke to his ‘ward’ in a far more dignified manner, not treating her as if she’d just attached herself to the underside of his boot, the probability was that Nicola would be far more co-operative with said big male idiot. As it was, this wizard seemed to be of the belief that as an ex-resident (a wrongly accused resident in the eyes of the blind wizengambot) of the wizarding prison, Nicola was wholly undeserving of any basic wizarding rights. At least she had her wand back. That was a lot better than some.

The disgusted tone of the man reminded Nicola of the way her husband’s tone had become extremely similar when they set about trying to destroy the evidence that was the body of the auror Nicola had killed. She’d heard that tone of voice too much recently and right now? It just made Nicola want to piss little red riding hood off a terribly large amount.

Therefore, when he started boasting about his early morning exercise, Nicola couldn’t help but smirk, her dark eyes sparkling as she took another sip of tea.
“I was exercising early this morning as well, Mr Auror Fox Sir,” Nic grinned as the cigarette sat between her teeth, yet to be lit. “Some of us don’t even need to leave the bedroom.” Especially when the exercise partner was in the bed next to you.

She could tell Fox didn’t get that often. Or at least that he didn’t have a wife or partner. There were a couple of reasons she knew this. The first was his disrespect for women. No man with a wife or a real partner would talk to a woman like he did. The second reason was what made him the same as the rest of his moronic auror colleagues. His obvious marriage to the job. He was one of the hypocritical, brainless moronic idiots through and through. Aurors, they were all the same. They didn’t have lives outside of their little office therefore they took great pleasure in ruining the lives of people like Nicola. She, however, took enjoyment in the fact that she had most definitely ruined an auror’s life. After all, she’d ended it herself. If only she could do the same with this guy and get off that one as well. Unfortunately, this fool would be missed. What a pity.

Nonetheless, Miss Randall still wasn’t about to start kissing his feet. She might catch something.

Nicola’s wand was now out, about to light the cigarette between her lips when the burly troll like man lurched himself ungracefully towards her, reminding her of an intoxicated lion attempting to move in covertly on his prey, pulling the beautiful nicotine, heavenly tasting small white cigarette from her lips.

Primarily Nic was unsure how to react. It wasn’t everyday some dense ogre snatched a cigarette from your jaws for no apparent reason. Not liking the sudden height difference that now presented itself with her sat down and him stood so close, Nicola pushed herself up off the chair and stood barefoot before her tormentor.

“Oh you can blame yourselves for this new habit, my dear moron. I never so much as touched a cigarette before you idiots locked me up for a murder I didn’t commit. But I figure I should now make the most of this new freedom, don’t you agree?” Nicola grinned, only to annoy the man. “But if you really wanted a nicotine fix, Auror, you need simply ask. Not lie and snatch one for yourself. It’s so impolite of you to just take one.”

It was becoming quite evident that Fox wasn’t there to play games.  He was here to cause trouble. Even if Nic had turned up to the meeting on time, wearing a posh set of robes and a sweet smile plastered on her pale face, he’d still be rude, blunt and unnecessarily mean.

She glared up at the man, folding her arms. “I have enough scars from the last time you brutes dragged me in, I don’t need more.” But Nicola didn’t want to give in that quickly either. Nonetheless, Nic decided it was for the best and pocketed her wand before heading behind the bar. She didn’t need him suggesting she be returned to a bridge house or Azkaban. The young girl couldn’t bear it.

Five minutes later, the Ex-Azzie returned fully dressed with her war paint on. Tying up the belt of her grey coat, Nic emerged from behind the bar.

“You’re not about to find anything out, I’ve been a good girl this week.”