It was one thing to put up with Dolly St. James in the off time of the month when he'd had a couple of pints and felt like getting into a verbal sparring match.  It was obviously another when it happened here, on his turf, during a time and place that he hadn't chosen when an entire pack of bleeding werewolves was lurking about and listening to her cut him down. 

Kurby bristled, gritting his teeth and glaring daggers at her.  He held still, very still, as the self-conceited writer continued to prattle on, but the last condescending remark proved to be too much for him.  He caught her wrist as she patted his cheek, grip tightening mercilessly as he yanked her hand away from his face and held it there.

"I'm not the one skulkin' about, Dolores," he hissed in a low voice, dark eyes locked on hers.  "What happened, did Wiedman invite that goddamned reporter over again tonight?"

If it had been any other time or place, he would have said much worse.  Even if it had just been in front of his co-workers, Kurby would have shown no restraint in opening up on her; ever since Bruce had been retired, he was beyond caring what anyone else on Level Four thought.  If Gertrudis and Mainwaring wanted to fire him, let them.  They'd see how long their hold-hands-and-sing-songs version of the Capture Unit lasted when it was made up of fresh-faced kids.  But getting called out when there were dogs in the room, werewolves who were perfectly capable of getting his scent and remembering it the next time they happened to go rogue under a full moon, went beyond verbal repartee.  Showing weakness was dangerous.  Deadly.

Kurby sneered at her, wrenching her hand down and away, and then shot a dark look over his shoulder at Fox.  The Auror was choosing the wrong moment to decide to try out a sense of humor.  They'd see how funny he thought things were after Kurby spilled Indelible Ink all over his beloved case files.

"Only in bad company," he snapped, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his robes.  It was all he could do to keep from drawing his wand; he settled for clenching his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms.  He wanted desperately to drive a hand through something, but it would have to wait until he was back in his office.  Or Fox's office.  Or Grimm's office.  At least the last one would make him feel better.

Shooting one last withering glare at Dolly, he turned on his heel and started for the door.

Eveline smiled and nodded at the foreign wizard, remembering she had read in the Daily Prophet that he was there right along with Headmaster Knox for the werewolf attack. She noticed a very pretty witch having a talk with the angry wizard...Auror?...and that whatever the witch was saying, seemed to have made him angrier.

"What the hell," she told herself, "it is Christmas and we should at least try to make nice with everyone."

Hurrying to the refreshments table, she poured a cup of eggnog and put a few decorated cookies on a paper plate. Then she hurried over towards the door, trying to catch the angry man before he could leave.

"Um...Sir? Please don't leave. I'm...um...sorry if I was rude. All right...I know I was rude. But...well...Fauna is my friend..." At least the closest thing she had to a friend... "and Headmaster...um...Elder...Knox is a good man. He wouldn't have been bitten, if he wasn't trying to protect Fauna and the others..."

She held out the eggnog and cookies timidly, as a peace offering.

Ackerly shook his head as Bagnold stormed off. Such a short temper was never good on a man. (Not that Ackerly had much room to talk. In his younger days his temper had been not been something to mess with, either. But that was a long time ago now.) It was even more amusing to watch the young girl chase after him with a drink and some cookies. "It'll take more than cookies to sweeten him up," he called out after her with a laugh. At least things had proven to be somewhat entertaining.

But then he was also left standing there with the woman that had managed to really get his friend's goat. Ackerly couldn't believe that she was allowed to speak to Kurby that way. Ackerly's wife had her own temper- well, ex-wife and ex-temper he supposed- but she'd never treat him like that in public. He would never stand for it. Some arguments were simply meant to be had in private.

"I take it you're the reason Bagnold is always so frustrated?" She must not be putting out, or not putting out often enough. Maybe he should go find greener pastures... Ackerly had heard that the welcome witch liked to sink her teeth into him once in a while. He had never complained when he got that treatment. "Surprised he can manage to gain the interests of a woman instead of a girl. He's the sort who enjoys those barely legal types, I've heard." Ackerly shrugged. "And there he goes, storming out like the drama queen he is."