January 5, 2009
12:15 pm (Lunch break)
Atrium Cafeteria

Zora had just sat down with a few friends from adjacent departments for a quick lunch, when she saw Adon Eleor come in and sit down.  Immediately, Zora scooped up her sandwich and bottle of soda and said a hasty good-bye.  This had waited long enough.  She just couldn't believe it.   How could someone be so absurd as to do what she was now sure he was doing.

She swooped in on the Israeli wizard, a transplant from the Middle East who'd just finished his credentials for the Auror Corps.  She hadn't worked with him yet - just interacted with him in briefings and heard that he carried a muggle firearm gun thingy on occasion.   He was good by all reports.  But apparently those reports left out being completely bonkers.

"Adon Eleor, right? Are you insane?" she asked sitting down very close to him.  She started unwrapping her sandwich - clearly she was staying - but kept her eyes on his dark ones the whole time. 

She took a bite, chewing as she pressed further.

"Are. You. Mad?"  Zora's tone was mostly congenial.  Definitely confrontational.  She'd get pissed at him in good time, but at the moment, she needed to hear it from him.  Give him some chance at explaining himself.

"Tell me it's not true." 

Mercifully, the holidays were over. Adon was able to return to the regular pattern of irregularity that he was accustomed to. Impromptu lunch meetings, occasional nights surveillancing, regular improvisation to cover up the latter two, neither of which were known to Level Two as a whole. Despite the "need-to-know" basis that most investigative agencies tended to take, the London Aurors were particularly needy little bastards. It became a sort of hobby, snooping. Hell, even Alberic Grimm seemed to have caught the bug. Perhaps it was endemic to the Ministry.

And so when Zora Roh swooped down, talons ready and inquisition prepared, Adon grinned, rather pleased. Not that, presumably, she'd come up with anything new on him, but because things were, for once, business-as-usual. He leaned back in his seat and looked up at her, tilting his chin to regard her. "Are you insane?"

His eyes sparkled. "I thought I got that documentation all resolved with Stevenson before she left." He watched as she took a bite.

"Are. You. Mad?"

"Depends. Are you deaf?" If not, he was hearing double.

"Tell me it's not true."

"Happily," Adon quipped back, "provided you don't mind a lie now and again. I'm answering blindly, you're asking deafly, so I think the odds are somewhere around 50/50. That said: It's not true." He leaned in, glancing around a bit before asking, "Now, what's not true?" He could think of any number of things. The Death Dream, for one. The shrunken head Christmas present, for two. The fact that he was becoming a permanent installment in the London Ministry. The fact that he'd been meeting with Jonas Trevelyan. But Roh was over Jacoba's Muggle-hazing case. Jacoba'd mentioned that earlier. Adon was pleased with the choice. She was sharp and clearly assertive. Those talons were practically incisive.

He took a bite of his own meal in order to give Roh time to answer and to provide himself sufficient time for a response. If it was related to Trevelyan, he'd tread cautiously. If the Dream, he'd shut that down immediately by distraction. If it was Jacoba--well, he wouldn't mind hearing a bit more of what she had to say, there.

It was true that Jacoba's predicament had been the reason why he'd been happy to return to regular patterns. She'd left work--temporarily or no was yet to be determined--and while Adon was concerned and certainly willing to help where he could, he was finding it somewhat difficult. Jacoba . . . well, she didn't seem as broken as Sasha. Which was, for Adon, pretty fortunate. But he wasn't entirely convinced, either. It was possible that Zora had some more information on this, though getting information about one's girlfriend through a co-worker was a bit . . . How did one say it: Alberic. He swallowed and, realising that the timing was not quite right -- he had not get begun his response -- he took another bite.

Cheeky, wasn't he. Zora let his sass go, being in a charitable mood this afternoon.  If he was ashamed or worried about anything he was hiding, nothing registered on his face that Zora could see.  No nervous vibes, nothing like that.  Hard as nails this one.

Zora narrowed her eyes in his direction and shook her head.  He was a bleeding idiot.

She clicked her tongue with a little grin as she went on.

"Tch tch tch... Boyo, you've overstepped.  Sleeping with that muggle from Reducto Records! Merlin's beard, when did you plan to tell me you'd been living with the muggle?"

Her grin had faded by the time she finished and the resentment she'd been harboring since she found out was leaking up to the surface.  She'd told herself Adon could date muggles all he wanted - she'd done it before herself.  But there were important norms to follow so that Secrecy was maintained.  Ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends were routinely Oblivated after dirty break-ups.  And when your muggle girlfriend's already living in Diagon Alley and is the target of violence and threats... She exhaled out of flared nostrils and gritted her teeth behind her lips.

You told your fellow Aurors.  You told the Auror on that case. You freaking reported in.  Since that first day on the case, when Jacoba Schlagenweit had mentioned her "roommate" was an Auror, Zora'd been just a touch off kilter.  But she expected it to come up in a Corps run-down, or for someone to stop by her cubicle.  "Oh hey, Roh.  Heard you were on that muggle case in Diagon.  Full disclosure, we're doing it. So let me know if you need any support on that."  Or freaking something.

Adon's smile wavered at "boyo." It was completely gone by "sleeping." The rigid, icy look in response was not hostile. It was distant. It carried with it disdain.

"Well, Roh, truth be told, I didn't think I'd need to discuss it over the water cooler with you. I thought the paperwork I'd turned in might have been enough; I had assumed you'd have read up on it and that, if there were any concerns or issues, you'd bring them to my attention and we'd discuss the matter."

He reached out for his drink and took a sip, regarding her coolly. "Or was this your attempt at doing that?" Her insolence knew no bounds -- apparently it was willing to go clear into the noisy, crowded, public cafeteria. And what was more, her restrain in accusations lasted all of two sentences. Well, one sentence and a fragment, if he had to be more precise. Alarming, in an investigator. Guilty until proven innocent? Was that how it was?

Guilty of what?

Mustering up restraint, Adon swallowed. Cracked his jaw, feeling the muscles around it loosen. "If you have read the disclosure form, you'll be familiar with the extent of our relationship. It has not changed since December 23rd." He paused. "Though I am happy to tell you just as soon as I fuck the Muggle." He cleared his throat and looked down at his watch. "If, you know," he said after a pause, "it will keep you from discussing my intimate relationship with another human being in so callous a manner in a commonplace cafeteria."

The disappointment mitigated the anger. Zora had been a strong woman. The sort he thought would be a good lead for this case. Someone who could take care of Jacoba in ways that Adon could not: in a professional, official capacity. The woman couldn't even bear to say her name. Say what she might, assume what she might about Adon -- he had earned the reputation with foolish, idle boasting -- Jacoba had enough to put up with.

"I hope you don't talk to Miss Schlagenweit like this."

Adon's defensiveness only heated Zora up more.  Of course, she probably shouldn't have expected him to apologize or act ashamed.  Contrition was much less Aurorly than confidence and rightous indignation.  Certainly followed with Zora and she should have expected the same from Eleor.

When Eleor began by claiming the existence of some mythical paperwork, Zora pushed her chair away from the table, rotating out to face him fully on.  The table legs scraped loudly on the stone floor.  And she crossed her arms ready for story time.   If there had been a Compromising Bedfellows Disclosure in the case file, she'd have seen it.  They were long. And bright pink - had to be folded to fit in this decade's new filing system.  Proper forms her ass!

She scoffed at his indignation, and shook her head.  He sounded almost embarassed or something, the way he talked about 'fucking' her, and 'intimate relationships' and 'commonplace cafeteria'.  She even looked around and made a gesture to suggest that no one was giving them even half a mind, everyone else totally caught up in their own business.

When he finished, she leaned her elbow on the table and lowered her voice, but she was still acid.

"Oh don't make this about that, Eleor.  She's a target on my harassment case.  You can date muggles all you want - go nuts, I don't care!" she flipped her hands open in frustrated motion.

"I'm doing the job proper," she insisted with her own brand of defensiveness.  "And I treat her just like anyone else.  But I can't do my bloody job, if I don't have all the information.  So why don't I have it, Eleor? You're not special. She's not special."

Zora remembered back to that first meeting with Jacoba Schlagenweit and Matilda Quinn at the record store, where Zora had tried, clearly in vain, to get Schlagenweit to see some sense and stop trying to make herself some sort of martyr for her family and for some dead-dragon cause of magical openness.  No, just trot merrily onward and hope your smile stops all the hate.  And Eleor was there the whole time, not helping.  Or so it seemed from Zora's perspective.

Adon reassessed. His gag-reflex of "Well you're harassing my ass off," was suppressed. But it was hard. As was the quip about how she must treat others. Well, at least it wasn't personal. What. a. relief.

Adon settled for a glower to sufficiently display his displeasure before moving on.

Anything he said at this point would be argued against. Roh wanted a fight. He did not. Any bad blood from this conversation could impact Jacoba. Roh clearly responded with her emotions. It was unprofessional. It wasn't unheard of, but it was unprofessional. Of course, he would love to punch Zora for the way she talked about this, for the way she threw out accusations and demonstrated blatant disrespect and distrust--they weren't close enough for her to take this to the level of betrayal, but that hadn't stopped her. But this wouldn't help any.

"Not special," he agreed evenly. "I'm just like everyone else. And being treated as such," he nodded, but could not help a bit of the irony creeping in. Of course he was. She was a real gem. Special, even.

"Now that we've agreed maybe you ought to apply your efforts towards Hills when he comes back. I handed them in to him. They've got Raynor's signature on it as well. I suspect she can confirm if you're wanting a personal character check. Though I don't see what having papers in hand changes, other than your opinion of me." And he didn't suspect that would turn around very soon. Nor did he particularly care. Had it been Jonas, Raynor, or Archer, or even Harcroft or Pratt -- he'd care. He respected them. And they'd at least shown a little inclination towards it themselves. People who didn't respect him -- especially before a first conversation with him -- didn't deserve to be on the Good List.

"You have the information -- we're in a relationship, in case you didn't know," he smiled a bit. If she hadn't known that, she wouldn't be here. "-- and if you talk to Hills, you'll have the signatures." Really, she was retroactively quibbling, vocalising her betrayal. Perhaps she felt better now. Though judging from the hue of her face, he doubted it. "What do you need to proceed with the case and what can I do to help you with that?" He folded his arms across his chest, mirroring her own actions and posture. "You have me here, and I've offered information. What would you like?"

He looked down at this sandwich. Also unsaid: "Because this bread is getting soggy."

And while he scowled so grumpily, and while he kept an obnoxiously holier-than-you tone when he spoke to her, he was saying what she'd wanted to hear.  Well, sort of.  Hills, an admin up on Level Two, was normally reliable but something was up with that guy lately and she offered a cold sort of shrug to confirm that it could be Hills messing with her paperwork.

She sat back and crossed her arms as he went on, explaining things - insolently, coldly, like by just filling out his forms his responsibility in all this was magically wiped clean.  But her rancor was abating, perhaps while his was rising. 

"Tch! Eat your damn sandwich," she said with an annoyed look and did the same herself, taking another bite from her egg salad on rye (brought from home).  Who's stopping you?

"Would have had a word with you before I stopped by Reducto, if I'm honest, Eleor," she said, still chewing.  She just looked disappointed now, more than furious. 

"Probably would have had more information going in about what the muggle'd been dealing with instead of going in cold.  All I'm saying - I could have been more prepared if I'd known you were involved.  Follow up on a few things, have some answers worked out before we spoke.  You could've come with," she said, ticking off what she'd have done if she'd seen that big pink document.

"So now..." she said with a sigh, getting to the point he was probably waiting for.  "What you could do for me is throw me a bone once in awhile.  Make sure she's not doing anything stupid."

She spun the cap off her soda with her thumb and drank up.  She raised her eyebrows to say, Well?

"Tch! Eat your damn sandwich!"

Adon grinned toothily at this. He understood this language. She was letting him carry on; exigency met, the words seemed almost like an apology. "You sound like my mother," he quipped before taking a bite. It was a pleasant distraction from the subject matter which was, he reminded himself, just business.

"By all means," Adon said, between bites, "be honest. I would not want you to stop now." He put the sandwich down, looking at her. "To be honest myself, you might have told me you were going by Reducto Records. I didn't know who was on the case until Jacoba -- which is, you know, her name --" he watched her, with aplomb, begin to chug her meal. Azazel, women were either gluttons or fasters at mealtime. It took him a moment to recover. "Until she, Jacoba, Ms Schlagenweit, whatever, said as much." She of course would not have known that he would need to be notified; that was not why he'd pointed it out. He didn't expect her to have. No, he wanted her to know that she might have, before placing the blame, done what she could to disclose the information that would be helpful to them both. "At any rate, I couldn't have told you, because I couldn't have known who to tell. Or that I needed to. But we're past that now," he added, suspiciously over his sandwich in an implied question.

He frowned, considering her request. "Reasonable enough. If you'll do likewise. Keep me informed on any findings. I'm doing what I can to keep her safe; walking her home from work and to, when I can. Though she's not working at present. I've heightened precautions on the flat and even a few on her room." But those were mostly for her privacy, but Roh didn't need to know that. He did let, however, the fact that they had separate rooms sink in a moment. "You heard," he added in a bit of a lower tone, "what happened on the 24th, yes?" he asked. If she did not know at least that much, his confidence in departmental communication would be thoroughly shaken.

Despite their posturing and growling from a few moments more, the two scarlet hounds were content enough that both could now munch happily at their lunches, hackles down. 

By now, Zora had taken note of how often Eleor was using Jacoba's name, and she sat back into her chair and rolled her eyes a little.  If Zora sounded like his mother, then he was reminding her quite a bit of her daughter who huffed and fought arguements over little words.  "He's not my boyfriend, mother! He's just a friend!" And so forth.   Jacoba. Frauline. Muggle. Whatever. 

Her room, huh?  How very proper! She grinned to herself as he added in that detail so pointedly.  Fine.  He could date her, not date her, sleep with her in her room or his.  Jacoba. Frauline. Muggle. Whatever.  Good for him.  But at least this thing was settled.

"I'm case lead on that one," she acknowledged, "So consider yourself in the loop, brov."

In Zora's opinion, she'd said her piece and in a moment or two she'd get up and leave Auror Eleor to his food and rejoin her mates.  However, after a moment, he went on.

"The murders," she nodded, mimicking his lower tone.  It was one of the giant cases on their books right now.  It was a giant, bloody mess.  The Muggle Liason Office and the Oblivators had been down for a giant briefing over holidays and everyone'd been called in.  The whole family but Jacoba and her brother had been offed by an Ex-Azzie.  Zora, because of her duties with Jacoba, had her theories as to the motivation. 

"I damn well did hear.  Hate to say I told you so..." she said morbidly.  She was, of course, not referreing to Adon, but at how difficult it had been to get Jacoba on board with keeping her head low.  She had, from Day One Rock Through Window, seemed to refuse to acknowledge that this was some piddly local politics that could be solved with tea and biscuits.  Now her entire family was murdered by a dark wizard.  It damn horrible and, as far as Zora knew, could have all been avoided.

He was in the loop. He was a brov. This was acceptable.

What was not was her next assertion. "I damn well did hear.  Hate to say I told you so..."

Adon's upper lip curled as he surveyed Roh. "I'm not sensing the hate, Roh," he stated. To Adon, the woman looked too damned smug. She ought to look anguished. Or at least like she cared. They were human lives, not probabilities. "And you didn't tell me anything." For which Adon was glad. If she had, he might have thrown something at her. Perhaps a punch. All he had on hand was his pickle, which he had no intention of touching. He considered, a moment, its viability as a projectile, ultimately deciding the impact would not be satisfying enough to justify the retaliation. Instead, his fingers wrapped around the edge of the table, his nailbeds becoming white as he applied pressure.

"Are you the lead on that, too?" he asked tersely. He didn't want to discuss particulars, here. He wasn't sure what was worse: discussing death or sex over lunch with this woman. "They ought to," he stated, prising his fingers away from the tabletop in order to pointing at her from across the table, "look into that kidnapping. It cannot be coincidence."

Zora rolled her eyes again.  Auror Eleor was a giant ball of emotions and personal passions.  This was the job, man.  Horrible shite happened every single day and wading through it without having to hold a bleeding moment of silence every time it was brought up was a necessity.  They'd get nothing done blubbering about lives lost.  Adon was close to the case, so his viper-tongue snap at him she'd forgive.

"Someone with bigger boots than me has that one," she said back a little snippily.  Both snippy that he seemed to loathe the idea that she'd be lead on the family murders, but also that Raynor wouldn't trust her with something that big. 

"And if you've got opinions, Eleor, might want to owl Raynor about it.  She might nab your head for it, but those cases are dying. Seems like there's no worse omen lately than the word Schlagenweit.  Whoever these people are, they're not just innocent victims.  Jacoba's a real peach - but rats follow folks who carry around their rubbish in their pockets.  Catch my meaning?"

Speaking of rubbish, she crunched up her brown paper sack into a ball, and drained the rest of her soda.

Callousness, snideness, and just plain douchebaggery masquerading as "business." Adon wouldn't abide it. Roh could lionize herself all she wished for predicting the mass murder of an entire family. Adon wouldn't stop her. But he may very well punch her after.

"Jacoba's a real peach - but rats follow folks who carry around their rubbish in their pockets.  Catch my meaning?"

"Yeah, I do," Adon said sharply. "You've been following her around for what, now, a few weeks?" Adon took the tray between his hands as Roh crumpled the paper. Rising, he kicked the seat just enough to side-step out of the space.

Sometimes it was the people who were trying to do the most good, the people who were pushing people to be their best, to change and reform, to consider new options, that received the world's wrath. His father had been one such individual. Jacoba was, too. Adon suspected that in due time, if his brother pursued this half-assed idea of a Muggle-Mage agency, he'd be as well. But, no. Bad things only happened to bad people. What an outlook for a law enforcement officer to take. It was like these people never read the damn Bible.*

Adon seemed unable to decide between "goodbye," "good day," "go to hell," and "see you later." Allowing indecision to take over, Adon turned away, moving towards the tray deposit as he gathered his spoon and knife -- why did they always give you things you didn't need? -- and dropping them into the silver canister that would convey them to the kitchen to be magicked clean.

He dumped the rest of his food angrily with great, jerking motions, into the bin. Rubbish. He should have shoved it in her pockets. Or her face. A glance back conveyed a sense of contempt. Go to hell. Yeh, that would have been the right one to say.

* Adon's thinking of Job.

Baby.

Adon Eleor stormed off and Zora watched him go with a little shake of her head.  He was taking this far too personally - although she should have expected as much; she was talking about his girlfriend.  Who's entire family save the troublesome little brother.  But that was the point, wasn't it, she thought as she got up and walked back to her friends.

Trouble followed the troublesome.  So few crimes had completely innocent victims, and Zora meant innocent in the broadest of definitions.  For example, Jacoba was probably dead on in feeling she didn't deserve the persecution she and Quinn were getting.  But others were going to see that as an attack on their quiet lives.  Whatever the Schlagenweits were hiding, they needed to be looked at if they were going to find the culprits of the murders. 

Zora didn't have 'kid gloves' as her teenage suspect discovered last month.  No soft hands for Jacoba Schlagenweit, and no soft hands for sensitive Auror Eleor.