Her fingers gently brushed against Isaac's arm and closed around it.  Chances were good he would have heard had she shouted, but she'd prefer, if at all possible, to slip out without announcing her departure.  He looked at her and Jacoba tilted her head towards the door.  Either he'd question the quick departure or welcome it; either way, twenty minutes had been about fifteen minutes too many for the young woman.

She suspected it had been twenty minutes too many for Isaac.  There'd been no shortage of curious and questioning glances in his direction.  She assumed he'd noticed.  Isaac had made a valiant effort to fit in but, there was no denying the wizard professor stood out against the colorful array of molded hair styles of the backdrop of teens and early twenty-somethings.

Christa Werden had been Jacoba's roommate for two years during her days at Landesschule and, for a pair of fifteen- and then sixteen-year-olds, the mischief they'd managed to find was unreal.  Sneaking out for late night ventures into Berlin had been common place, along with all the questionable activities and behavior that came with it.  Christa had gotten her first tattoo under Jacoba's supervision and had reciprocated, watching over as Jacoba got her first two piercings.  It was impossible to tell which of the two managed to be the stronger bad influence and, at times, they might have competed for the title.  Christa, being the one of the pair that had a healthy supply of financial support from her parents, had definitely been the driving force.  At least as far as funding the activities went.

They'd both found their way to Berlin after finishing school.  But, by the end of summer, to Christa's disappointment, Jacoba had left Berlin and found her back to Munich to prepare for examinations and, ultimately, start studying at the University.  But, the partying and all the accompanying questionable activities hadn't stopped there.  Jacoba had managed to find her way back to Berlin with considerable regularity until life and the mistakes of fate had led a path to Amsterdam. It had been almost a year since Jacoba had found her way back here.

Jacoba pushed the door open and led the way out onto the street, tugging her coat tighter around her against the bitter wind.  The coat did little for her bare lower legs, though.  Her choice of attire had been made, entirely, on the assumption they'd be spending most of their time indoors.  In the heated indoors.

"What a bloody waste," Jacoba muttered as she shook her head.  When Jacoba had received the invitation a couple weeks ago, the search for her brother had dominated any possible thought of attending any party.  In the days following his brother's return home, life seemed to settle back and the opportunity for a last minute journey to Berlin had presented itself in Isaac's instantaneous transport.

It had proven to be a mistake and, for the life of her, Jacoba wasn't sure why.  She knew most of the people in there and still considered them friends.  A year ago, she would have settled right in without a second thought or hesitation.  The only thing that had changed was Isaac but, somehow, she knew that had nothing to do with the feeling of disjointedness.

"I'm sorry about that," she offered with another head shake.  "I don't really know what I was expecting.  I thought it would be ..."  Like it had been.  Not entirely foreign.  She paused by a rubbage bin and flicked in the cigarette that, somehow, had managed to find its way into her hand.  "I just, somehow, managed to completely waste your time.  I'm - really sorry."

outfit

It had been rather obvious from the moment that he walked in the door that he really did not belong among the group of teens and twenty-somethings who had gathered for the party.  After the first five minutes he had taken to amusing himself by analyzing the array of curious glances that were sent their way.  There were nearly as many expressions as hair colors, and in between brief attempts at trying to fit in at the party the observer in him began to find it all rather humorous.  After twenty minutes though when her hand came to rest on his arm, Isaac had been more then willing to follow Jacoba back out of the party.

He wasn’t quite certain what had made him accept the invitation, knowing very well what the party would likely be like before he got there.  This was her world, or at least it had been, clearly not anything close to his.  Yet, after the confusion and stress of trying to find Sasha the chance to spend a few moments without that worry hanging over that had been a welcome idea in his mind.  He had figured it would be good for her to see old friends so there hadn’t been much hesitation on his part.  However, there was a moment of surprise when she wanted to leave so soon after arriving.

He followed her not commenting about the cigarette she had picked up somewhere along the way.  It wasn’t a healthy habit or one he supported but he wasn’t really someone who should be lecturing her about it.  He tucked his hands in his pockets watching her for a moment giving her a small half smile when she apologized. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said.  “It was…an experience.  I think you’re just going through a bit of a transition and that coupled with a stressful few weeks…Maybe this just isn’t what you need right now.”  Not that he was entirely sure what she needed, but part of him desperately wanted to salvage the evening for her at least.

“I guess sometimes, as much as we want to, being able to just slip back into what we did in past,” he told her.  “It’s normal…You’re trying to process a lot still.”

The only thing he could equate what she might be feeling to was the first time he tried fitting in at home after being away on a research study.  He had been away nearly six months, and it was the only time trying to fit back in with is core group of friends from school had seemed strained.  They were all trying so hard to find their way and the conversation during the visit had been strained at best.  The get togethers that followed had been noticeably easier, but he suspected what was going on in Jacoba’s head was a bit different.

“The evening doesn’t have to be a complete waste,” he offered, not that he thought of it that way yet to begin with.  The half smile turned into a bit of a teasing grin as he continued, “I’ve been considering changing things up a bit for my next research project…maybe it’s time to get an early start.  Nightlife is an important part of Muggle culture…and I could use a drink some place warm.”  He suspected she could definitely go for some place warm given her attire, and probably a drink as well.

"And, a wasted evening."  She scowled.  Of course, apologizing again would be rather tactless but she couldn't help thinking hijacking one's evening for something like that was worthy of, at least, an apology.  Tugging the lapels of her coat tighter around her, she hid her fingers from the biting air under the folds in the fabric. 

One could certainly call that an experience.  Nodding vaguely, she glanced over at Isaac, offering him a slightly lopsided grin.  At least he didn't seem angry and, if one were to take his expression during the whole twenty minutes at face value, he'd at least been amused.  For him, it probably was.  A nice slice of the underbelly of muggle culture.  At least one rather specific subset of it.  She nodded, turning back forward her hands still tucked carefully away from the cold. 

Again, she dipped her head in a vague nod but kept quiet as she considered her words.  Was that what she was trying to do?  Slip into the past?  In retrospect, it seemed to make sense though she rarely gave her activities that much forethought.  "Yeah - to be honest, it's actually exactly how I remember it which makes it more confusing.  I don't think I'm remembering differently, it's just - you know that toy?"  Ok, maybe it was just a muggle toy but it seemed so common place, either way he was bound to come across it.  "For really little kids where you got the star shaped block and you've got to put it through the star shaped hole?  It's like I recognize the block and I recognize the hole but they just didn't seem to fit." 

That was probably the corniest analogy so far this century.  After a few more steps she laughed, shaking her head.  The Scot was probably right.  "Yeah - I think I was actually hoping I could stop processing, since you know those parties are pretty good for that.  But, I guess it didn't work." 

"You're willing to give me another chance at proving I can be fun?"  Jacoba asked, countering his teasing grin with a mischievous smirk.  She could feel her mood quickly lifting at the reassurance that the night wasn't, entirely, ruined.  "Well, there's a small nightclub not far from here - it has some pretty decent music and, last I remember, wasn't crazy.  Assuming the block still fits."  With a direction in mind, she started leading the way, indeed eager to get out of the cold.  The demographics at the club were, usually, a little more diverse and Isaac would be less likely to stand out. 

"Muggle nightlife," picking up the comment and running with it.  "A tricky subject, you know.  Much more complex than the Tube.  Or, U-Bahn since we're not in England."  She contemplated this turn of events for a few moments before glancing at Isaac.  "So, what do you already know about muggle nightlife?  What is the true essence of the an evening out?"

The analogy of the old muggle children’s game made him nod a bit.  Perhaps it was a bit of a different way of thinking about it, but he understood what she was trying to express.  What worked in the past was now simply not having the same affect in the present.  His mother had once told him that once she had learned about the truth about magic it changed her own personal truth.  Everything in life seemed to be a journey and this course would be no different.  To truly move forward one had to let go of the past, and it wasn’t always an easy step to take and that was something he was more familiar with then he cared to admit on occasion.

“I somehow suspect that in the right setting fun isn’t too much of a problem,” he said, countering her statement about another chance at fun.  “It was somewhere between our initial conversation about Death’s sickle and your comment in that one letter about dancing down the hallway in a toga I started thinking of you as the good sort of trouble.”

He was glad to see a smirk form on her lips as she seemed willing to go along with his attempt at diversion.  A slight chuckle escaped him at her description when she mentioned it not being ‘crazy’ and he glanced over at her as they started walking. Keeping pace he followed her in what he assumed was the direction of the nightclub, finding the thought of some mild banter a welcome distraction from the cold.

“Going easy on me for my first voyage into the world of nighttime entertainment?” he asked raising an eyebrow slightly.

Nightclubs, bars, gin crawls and various other activities had been regular occurrences during visits home in his twenties.  Things had changed though over the years and he had drifted apart from many of those friends when his focus turned solely to his own research team and then writing his first book.  It had become habit to not seek out so much entertainment.  There was a balance missing, and he knew he didn’t need to point that out to Jacoba as she had already pointed it out in her letters.

With obvious sarcasm he responded, “Seeing as I’m sure you’ve noticed the stark lack of such establishments in the magical community I am quite the blank slate.”  With a slightly more serious tone he added, “Honestly, I think we all seek out entertainment for different reasons.  For some it’s the extension of that concept of hiding in a crowd trying to justify our own existence.  Others seek out the reason to get completely sloshed and get past their own inhibitions for just forget about life…or sometimes it’s just purely the need to connect with someone else while sharing the experience.  It’s about letting go for a few hours.”

Jacoba took several steps in silence, her gaze trailing along the ground, watching the reflection of the streetlights in the icy patches on the ground.  Even with her gaze turned down, however, a light, smug grin spread across her face.  Yes, fun was easy to come by once one dragged themselves out of the pouting mindset and, with Isaac's help, she'd managed to do that quickly enough. 

Her grin broadened and she, finally, looked up, her eyes sparkling playfully.  "Is that so?" she asked, chewing her lip, slightly.  A skip found its way into her step and she turned and started walking backwards a few paces so as to watch the man standing next to her.  "I suppose 'good sort of trouble' is a matter for personal perspective.  I've been told I have a certain knack for mischief.  If, after that, you still trust me that is."  The comment was made with enough playful humor to make it clear it wasn't to be taken seriously. 

She smirked, again, at him, taking a few more steps backwards before turning front ways again just in time to dodge another person.  "Entschuldigen Sie, bitte," she offered, without a falter in her step.  "Well, either going easy or warming you up," she offered, smirking at him as she rounded a corner down a side street.  "We can just play it by ear.  We'll go at your pace." 

She paused at the door of SO 36 and tugged it open, slipping inside.  The warm air hit her exposed legs and prickled against the numbness.  Quickly, she shrugged her coat from her shoulders and hung it on a hook.  A small, local band was playing up on the stage and the room was filled with an eclectic group of drinkers and dancers.  She weaved her way to the bar and shifted up on a stool, glancing around room before turning back to Isaac.  "So, when's the last time you went out like this?  Casual clubbing I mean. I bet school keeps you pretty well shackled."

He laughed a little as she turned and started walking backwards; glad to see the sparkle return to her eyes.  It seemed whatever cloud had taken over back at the party had lifted much to his relief, and he knew it wouldn’t take much to convince him to go along with just about anything to keep that grin on her lips.  Merlin help him if she ever figure out that watching a woman nibble on her lower lip was a distinct weakness of his.  It was a reminder that he needed to tread carefully.

As they walked he kept an eye on her though as she continued on backwards in case she suddenly tripped.  He matched her smirk with another of his own when she mentioned going at his pace.  There was a part of him that saw it as a sort of challenge and he tried not to wonder if he would regret that when he was blessed with hangover the following morning.  He didn’t have terribly long to process it though as he followed her through the door to the club leaving his coat on one of the hooks and going to settle at the bar.

“Yeah…being at the school does make sneaking away for an evening of clubbing a little more complicated,” he said.  “So, it’s been a while since I’ve been out for more then a few drinks and listening to a game on the wireless.  I doubt the headmistress would take too kindly to me stumbling around in a drunken stupor on my rounds during the school year.”

Not that he figured Snark would take kindly too much of anything he did.  He’d managed to avoid too much direct conversation which was for the best given the fact that there wasn’t much they seemed to agree upon.  He had taken the head of house position for the students, but he couldn’t help wondering sometimes exactly how long he was going to last under Snark’s rule.

“So, let’s just say it’s been a while.  Somehow though, I doubt the basics have changed that much,” he added.  “Maybe it’s a bit like that old saying about the bicycle.”

"More complicated just means more exciting."  Jacoba paused a minute, considering Isaac.  Strange.  She'd never had this sort of conversation with anyone from his side of the educational cultural divide.  Such comments were much more easily and frivolously made when talking to other students.  She suspected the situation wasn't the same for teachers.  "I suppose that's harder when you're ... the ... teacher." 

The bartender came by, nodding to Jacoba first. "U-Boot, bitte," Jacoba requested, nodding to Isaac as the bartender turned to him for his order. 

Hooking her toes around two stool legs, she leaned against the bar, turning towards Isaac.  "Listening to the game with a few drinks?  Did those drinks happen to be beers?" She asked, grinning playfully.  "Sounds quaint.  I mean, sure, the hall monitor can't go get a drink before roaming the school corridors but you have weekends, don't you?  And, there are other professors.  Don't you all have ... I don't know ... staff nights out or something?"  Other than Isaac, Jacoba only knew the school's denizens through her brother's narrow perspective.  Whether any of them were mischief material, she didn't know.  She wouldn't trust her brother's judgement on that, either.

It's been a while.  It occurred to Jacoba that she really had no concept for what 'a while' might mean.  Wizards, she'd gathered, aged slower than their non-magical counterparts and that left Jacoba helpless when it came to guessing ages.  But, Isaac was obviously older - and a professor.  It was intriguing in its own way.  There was something very Mrs. Robinson-esque about it.

"We'll just have to freshen up your skills and put them to the test, then."  Jacoba swiveled in her seat to look out into the room, her back to the bar.  Still leaning a little towards Isaac to better here him, her eyes scanned the crowd.  "The basics, I suspect, are still the same.  You still drink, dance and flirt mercilessly with some specific goals in mind.  I think clubbing's been the same since the beginning.  Somewhere, long ago, neanderthals gathered around stone bars, grunting suggestively at each other, I'm sure."

“It is,” he agreed when she mentioned it being harder for the teacher.  “When you’re supposed to be setting the example, it’s a completely different sort of situation.  I got talked into my share of mischief in school, so sometimes it makes me wonder just how qualified I am to try to discipline some of the trouble makers.”

There were times he missed the relative simplicity of those days when the most the most complication he had was trying to figure out how to spend a Saturday night drinking smuggled in firewhiskey with friends somewhere on the Hogwarts grounds.  By some miracle they were never been caught, and it certainly gave him and idea of some more creative places to check during rounds.

It took a moment for his mind to place the drink she ordered from weekend excursion into Germany during a holiday break years earlier.  If he remembered correctly it was vodka and beer and the perfect combination if one was looking to get drunk quickly.  He opened his mouth to order a beer when she made her comment about his usual drinking habits while watching a game, feeling a slight blush creep into his cheeks.  Apparently he had become a really fussbudget without even realizing it.  It was true he needed to have his wits about him by the end of the evening to make sure they both made it safely back to the UK.  However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t start with something stronger then his usual beer.

“Whiskey,” he said as the bartender passed, giving her a slight smirk as he turned on his stool to face her leaning slightly in her direction.  “Oh yes, staff night.  We’re rather a wild and crazy bunch.  Honestly, I don’t think that would really be the wisest of choices.  Some of us get along, but lately there’s more and more of a division among the staff.  It makes staff outings a bit…tense.”  Thanks to the stark contrast in who supported Snark and who did not.

He gave a slight shrug when he considered his own dwindling social life, “I suppose if I wanted to I could take more advantage of my time on the weekend.”  He couldn’t help laughing a little as he said, “Apparently I’ve become an old man well before my time.  Next thing you know I’ll be spending all my evenings in front of a fire filling in the crossword puzzles.”

Thirty-eight was hardly old, and he hardly felt the eighteen years that separated him in age from the young woman next to him…except when it came to conversations like this one.  Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear a voice from the past calling him various names and telling him he needed to stop being so boring and live a little.  He kept that to himself as their drinks arrived.

She mentioned testing his skills which was fine, until she went over the basics of clubbing.  He looked out over the dance floor for a moment, offering the traditional Gaelic slàinte as a toast before taking a sip of his drink not immediately answering.  Somehow he’d manage to basically ignore the lingering question in his mind as to why it was exactly he had so readily agreed to help her a few weeks earlier and why he had said yes so quickly to going with her that evening.  If she was planning to be the one to test his ‘skills’ it would be exceptionally more difficult to push that aside.

“Yeah, you’re right, it hasn’t changed that much,” he said finally.  Looking at his drink he added, “So, we have a good start on the first one on the list…seems like dancing would be the next logical step.”

Not surprisingly, the reasonings that came to his mind were appreciably more responsible and mature than those that had come to hers.  He'd gone the positive-role-model route.  She'd gone the there's-one-of-you-so-you're-easier-to-notice route.  "You did, did you?"  Jacoba asked with a quirky grin.  What did this Professor Fraiser define as teenaged mischief?  "Maybe disciplining them isn't the best approach?"  Spoken like a true representative from the other side.  Who, conveniently enough, wasn't a student. 

She was about to elaborate when the bartender came back around.  The man set the glass of whiskey in front of Isaac and a half-liter stein, filled three-quarters of the way with a light lager and a shot of vodka.  The shot glass of vodka was dropped, glass and all, into the beer, leaving most of the vodka contained within the glass.  Someone's remarkable idea.  The lower the level of beer got, the more vodka leaked out of the shot glass.  It was , definitely, a way to hasten one on their way to relaxed drunkenness - which Jacoba was very much in the need of - but it was nothing like an atomic u-boot in which the roles of the vodka and beer were reversed. 

"If you were a mischief maker," Jacoba started again after the bartender had moved off, again.  "Then, you know, one can model the responsible adult all they want and the teenaged mischief maker isn't going to follow.  That's a long way to go, you know?  Quite simply, the beast would fail long before it got there and it'd rather give up than fail.  Following the lead of one who seeks mischief safely and appropriately might actually be more successful.  Just a though."  She didn't know if it would work but it seemed like it had more of a shot than the way schools handled kids now. 

"A division amongst staff?"  It was, very likely, none of her business but they were out here, weren't they?  He'd brought it up in casual conversation.  "Is this the whole purist thing?"  That seemed to be the most dominant division within the wizarding world.  She'd only been there two months and, already, she was experiencing a fair bit of it.  Those fliers and the meeting that had led up to it were quite the case in point. 

She chuckled, leaning against the bar, looking out at the group of people moving along to the band's music.  "I could see that," she said with a nod.  "If you add a Michael Bolton album to the evening, the excitement would be deafening.  I was never very good at crossword puzzles," she admitted, with a slight smirk.  "Or, I was excellent at them, depending on your perspective.  I never could figure out what was so wrong with going and drawing more squares where you needed them."  Apparently, though, that was cheating.  It was strange how similar 'cheating' and 'strategizing' seemed to be.  "Probably hasn't changed since the dawn of man," she said, nodding her chin in the room's general direction.  "I'm sure, somewhere in France is some undiscovered cave with a stone bar where, millions of years ago, neanderthals grunted along to hip tunes." 

Hoisting her drink in salute, Jacoba nodded.  Yes, step one seemed to be well under way.  A proposition for step two had been laid out on the table.  Taking a long sip of her drink, a first good wave of vodka sneaking out of the smaller shot glass and hitting her, she pushed herself to her feet.  "Let's see how rusty your moves are," she offered with a challenging smirk.

It was a good point that she made about provided a safe environment for mischief-makers might perhaps be the right way to go.  However, there was that somewhat understandable fear of what would happen if the other members of the staff found out.  He doubted that if one of the professors from his school days had managed to catch his group of friends drinking firewhiskey on the Quidditch pitch that they would have taken too kindly to it.  It was something to think about, but it meant letting go of the preconceived notions of what it meant to be the responsible adult.

"A division amongst staff?  Is this the whole purist thing?"

“That’s part of it, of course,” he said with a shrug.  “It’s also a question of who supports the Headmistress and who doesn’t.  Let’s just say gatherings like the holiday party are a bit on the awkward side.  The staff should be a team, but that’s not really the case at the moment.”

At least in his mind.  He didn’t get to voice many opinions freely as he was usually within the walls of the school.  Things were fairly tolerable for him most of the time as it was, but that had a lot to do with his ability to block out any number of insults that could be sent his way.  The ‘purist thing’ was certainly nothing new and in his line of work he had heard just about every offensive statement one might come up with.  The thought was quickly pushed aside though when mentioned her attempts at crosswords and he chuckled a little.

She stood up then and from the look on her face he was sure she was starting the evening’s test.  He tried not to think about the fact that this had the possibility of being a spectacularly bad idea.  Perhaps when the new term started Sasha wouldn’t be returning and she would no longer technically be the sister of one of his students, but there were a lot of other factors he was weighing.  He knew he could easily become attached to her, and that was admittedly a bit of a frightening concept in his mind for various reasons.

Taking another sip of his drink, this one longer then the first as he had adjusted a bit to the taste, he then rose from his seat as well.  This would be interesting if nothing else and he met her smirk with a roguish sort of grin trying to let go of his reservations.

“I’m sure I can show those Neanderthals in France a thing or two,” he said.  “Dancing is sort of like that old concept about riding a bicycle…it’s not something one really forgets how to do.”

He supposed in his case it would be more like riding a broom, but if anyone should hear them over the music he didn’t want to have to do any explaining.  Downing the rest of the whiskey, he set the empty glass on the bar forcing himself not to over think the current situation.  One hand came to rest on the small of her back as he motioned towards the crowd of people already well into the evenings general progression of drinking, dancing, and flirting.

It probably wasn't fair, coming to conclusions about a person one had never met but it was proving difficult to avoid doing just that with this Headmistress.  Jacoba really only knew her from other's perspectives - namely, her brother.  But, unfortunately, what little bits she'd heard from Dreogan and, now, Isaac only seemed to affirm that the woman was an uncertain entity. 

"Yeah, I've heard some things," she answered vaguely.  She'd never really been in that position so she didn't know first hand but she suspected speaking of one's unpleasant boss wasn't exactly pleasurable.  Certainly, it wasn't on the list of essential must-dos while clubbing.  "We'll just have to make this holiday gathering more fun, then."  Not that that'd be particularly difficult. 

The young muggle shared none of the hesitations or concerns that were simmering in Isaac's mind.  The fact this man had been Sasha's professor really hadn't registered with her.  Not in any way that made that fact relevant to the current situation. If she'd been looking for an entirely appropriate outing partner - or was this a date? - she wouldn't be here in Berlin with the man.  Besides, it looked like Isaac could use a bit of loosening up for his as well as his student's sake. Which, in the moments following another kick-laden sip of her drink, meant this was for Sasha and all the student's benefit. 

Sounded like good reasoning to her.

"They always say confidence is quite attractive," Jacoba said, smirking as she followed his lead out onto the dance floor.  And, nothing depicted confidence like a man putting neanderthals in their place.  Jacoba chuckled and shook her head as they found a spot in the crowd.  Her hips easily found the music's beat and she turned to watch Isaac, her eyebrows raised expectantly.  "So, let's see what you've got."

Talk of work quickly faded away, much to his relief.  It was really the last thing he wanted to discuss or think about while on break.  Without some sense of unity among the staff the school year had been rather difficult.  The fact that it seemed like the faces were constantly changing didn’t help the growing feelings of uncertainty within him.  He simply wanted to spend whatever time he could not dwelling on it, there was enough outside of school to keep him preoccupied.  Like whether or not he should be allowing himself to read anything into this interacting with the pretty young woman whom was out with for the evening.

"They always say confidence is quite attractive.”

He was glad they were moving out on to the dance floor as a blush spread across his cheeks.  There were certain things, despite his over active sense of humbleness, which he knew beyond a doubt.  He knew he could dance, his two best friends in school had seen to that, and he knew that when truly completely at ease and sure of where he stood he could be much more confident then he sometimes appeared. 

He swallowed a little harder then he normally would as she began to sway her hips in time with the music, feeling a slight knot of nerves forming in the pit of his stomach.  His eyes traveled back up to hers as he took a breath and tried to forget doubts and nerves.  Finding the beat himself he kept his eyes focused on hers, stepping closer as a hand resting on her hip.  Somehow he managed to get lost in the music and turn off the warning voice in his head.

“So, trouble,” he said with a slight smirk, deciding it seemed a fitting nickname, “do you have any other plans for the holidays aside from resocialization?”

Poor fellow seemed nervous at first.  Whether it was the atypical activity or the company or the setting, Jacoba couldn't tell though, she had to acknowledge, it was quite possibly all three.  They'd already established this wasn't his norm.  This was, certainly, not a few peers with fellow professors or an evening strolling the school halls for troublemakers.  But, Jacoba was convinced, he could benefit from a little lightening up. 

Luckily, he was proving to be a quick study.  And, despite a little initial bashfulness on his part, he started to dance.  Jacoba was quite aware that the man was watching her and, smirking, she threw a slight twist into her dancing before his eyes lifted to meet hers. 

She draped an arm over his shoulders as he drew close, smirking at him.  "Trouble?"  Jacoba echoed, chuckling slightly.  It was probably a rather fitting nickname though it was amusing how quickly he'd come to that conclusion.    "What, exactly, have I done so far to warrant such a code name?  I can't help but think I've been rather reserved, so far." 

"Resocialization of the Rut-Settled Professor," she mused, grinning.  "I could write my own book.  It can be a combination memoir and how-to manual."  Of course, that wasn't his question.  His question were about her holidays.  "Mostly the usual," she offered.  "Work and holiday shopping.  I'll be spending Chanukah with my roommate.  Hopefully, I'll get back to Munich to see the Christkindlesmarkten before they stop for the season."  Actually, when she spelled it out, she had a rather busy holiday season planned.  How very different from the norm.

“Let’s just say there have been subtle hints,” Isaac responded as her am draped over his shoulder.  He focused on Jacoba, pushing aside his racing thoughts and finding it easier to ignore what was going on around them.

It was a relief in a lot of ways to be able to simply let go of it all for a little while.  Somewhere along the way he had gotten so tied up in responsibilities he had forgotten about really living his own life.  He knew he was often guilty of needing a reminder to just sit back and relax, to make sure he was taking his own happiness into account.  His nature was to always try to be doing what would be deemed proper or to be doing for others.

"I could write my own book.  It can be a combination memoir and how-to manual."

He chuckled moving a fraction of an inch closer to her, his mind not even really aware he was doing so as they continued to move with the music.  Teasing her back he countered, “It’s the sort of thing the masses would love, especially my housewife fan base.  How one young woman managed to single handedly breathe a little life back into the old former adventure seeking academic.”

She listed off her holiday activities and he tried not to think too much about the identity of her roommate.  It was natural given her living arrangements to wonder a bit if there was anything more to it.  It certainly was something that gave him pause when he thought about her, curiosity and thoughts like that were often part of human nature.

“Sounds like a full holiday,” he told her.  “Then again, it seems we end up rushing around more then perhaps we should during December.  I feel honored now you’ve found a little time to try to break me out of my habits.”  As he said the last part his tone grew a little more serious but a smile continued to play at the corners of his lips.

Jacoba's eyebrows slid up a little as her eyes widened with coy amusement.  There'd been subtle hints?  Jacoba wasn't sure which to find more amusing: that he'd noticed or that he'd described what he'd noticed as subtle. 

"Is that so?"  Jacoba glanced around the night club's dance floor before looking back up at Isaac out of the corner of her eye.  She regarded Isaac as she turned back, not hesitating to let her gaze linger and meander unabashedly for several moments.  "Well, everyone needs a little trouble now and then to spice up life."  There was an unquestionable suggestive undertone to the comment - whether or not it was interpreted as such.  "Otherwise, the mundane can become oppressive." 

He was older than her, that much was obvious.  How much older, Jacoba was still unsure about.  Perhaps, to some, that might have been a deterrent but, to Jacoba, that only made the prospects more intriguing.  Exciting.  And, as he stepped closer to her, Jacoba didn't hesitate to respond in kind. 

"Earning the love of a throng of housewives probably wouldn't be a bad thing."  In fact, the more people in the muggle world she had on her side, the better.  In fact, a throng of housewives could make quick work of those fliers in Diagon.  Of course, if this were all anything but pure, amusing theoretics.  Or, more aptly, carefree, harmless flirting.  Thoughts of Jacoba's roommate weren't far from her mind, either - though they seldom were.  Jacoba would gladly accept more if it weren't for the various complications. 

But, she kept her mind in the here and now.  There was nothing to be gained from lingering on what ifs and slim possibilities.  And, those slim possibilities were only getting easier to ignore given the obvious shift in the man in front of her's tone.  "What other benefits are there to old habits?" she asked, quietly.