It was possible for Tamis Raynor to take a respite from her job.

Really, it was.

Occasionally, the woman felt the need to verify this fact through means of demonstrating it. It was irrelevant that Sunday was supposed to be her day off. It was the principle that she had not gone into the office in spite of the given day.

A chance array of sunlight filtered through the cloud cast sky and splayed the table nestled in the window front of the Three Broom Sticks. Allowing the flavor to linger on her lips, Tamis placed the bottle of butterbeer back on the wooden surface, allowing the light to play across the warm liquid’s surface.
Most people would have preferred to be more inconspicuous. But Auror instilled habits were difficult to ignore, if at all possible. Not only was it the closest position to the only readily available door, but by sitting in the chair facing it, she could readily observe the individuals that came through it. Always expect the unexpected. Constant vigilance, if you would.

It was obvious that Tamis was attempting to be casual. While the woman might not every toy with colors on the lighter end of the spectrum, she had at chosen softer shades. And, there was an obvious plight for color coordination. Whether the woman actually succeeded or not was a matter of opinion. Most might agree that her effort was commendable – until their eyes alit on the dull, slightly battered shoes that, while met casual parameters fell short on fashionable classifications. But Raynor was a stubborn as mule on footwear being practical. Anything could happen, and she would have a much harder time of keeping her feet in some nonsensical, spiked monstrosity.   

Pulling hair behind her ear, Raynor cast a pseudo-casual glance at the doorway once more.  Despite how unconvincing it sounded, she was actually here on a casual endeavor. The disbelief would further at who she was having that endeavor with. Most of the Ministry cleared the room when Analiza Snark and she happened to occupy it at the same time. All of the governmental employees would agree that the two mixed as easily as oil and water. What only a small portion realized was that the two were friends, and had been friends, for a number of years now. Though, the oil and water analogy was not completely incorrect.

Finally, the bell atop the door omitted a melodious ring, announcing the arrival of the aforementioned woman.

A small smirk graced Tam’s lips. “I apologize. I know it’s not exactly your style.”  She tilted her head towards the pub’s interior.

While it might be true, getting Raynor into something less… quaint… would have been even harder.  She could be annoyingly conservative.


Since I am never good at clothing description.

Outfit

Analiza Snark and Tamis Raynor Friends? Analiza could see the headlines now. Just like they romantically linked Marcus and Ana so deftly from five minutes of interaction, they would do so with the two women and splatter all over the front page like rotten eggs on a crotchety old womans door. What had the world come to that the Daily Prophet was more tabloid then news? She almost wished there was another war just so they had actual news to report and would stay the hell out of her personal life. Granted, she was romantically involved with Marcus, in a way, and granted she was friends with Tamis, also in a way, but that was no ones business but her own.

Truth be told, she was as surprised as anyone that her and Tamis had become friends. Everything seemed to fight against the idea. Tamis had been a Ravenclaw and a friend of that moron Felix Dagon back in school, two things that Analiza hated and only one of which she had come to terms with (that being the whole Ravenclaw thing, childish really). The two were like fire and water personality wise, or astrologically, wind and earth. Even their fashion sense was drastically different, a fact made readily apparent to Analiza the moment she stepped in the doors and saw Tamis sitting across the small room. Ana glanced at the womans clothing before looking at her own. Dammit, she had even come casual in jeans and a sweater today, yet she still felt over dressed. Thats it, she told herself, next time, I get to pick the place.

“I apologize. I know it’s not exactly your style.”

"That's allright, I'll get you back..." Analiza smirked as she took a seat across from the woman and crossed her legs. Leaning back in the chair, she ordered a firewhiskey and soda before turning back to Tamis. Her reddened lips curled in one corner, her golden eyes twinkling in an all too evil way, as though she were sharing a private joke with herself "... Next time is MY pick..." Glancing at the heavy woolen cloak about Tamis' shoulders, Analiza added "... And you and I really MUST go shopping some time soon."

The poised planes of Tamis’ face were far too innocent as Analiza Snark joined her rickety little table. While it appeared she met the woman eye-to-eye, and only eye-to-eye, with Auror prowess, she had evaluated her from head to toe. It took every bit of self control not to break the facade. The woman was horribly over dressed. Not quite as successful with her composure as she wished, Raynor took another swing from the butterbeer to hide her smirk.

It was almost as if the two were a display for diversity set up in the front window. In one corner, you had tall, sleek, and posh; a woman as vibrant as her hair and as sharply textured as her boots. And, in the other corner, short, relaxed, and natural; a woman whose size was underestimated and normally cool demeanor taken for granted. But, with most diversity ventures, despite their differences, both shared similarities not readily visible to the eye. They both enjoyed sarcasm, had infamous tempers, and their subordinates tended to prefer to tread the shallow waters. These shared characteristics both unified the two women – and acted as a ticking time bomb.

”That’s allright, I’ll get you back…”

“I’m sure you will,” Tam returned, a smirk of her own.

With much practiced grace, the shorter woman maintained eye contacted calmly as Analiza leaned in, much reminiscent of a lioness moving in on her prey. She kept that analogy to herself. The Slytherin alumni was not fond on Ravenclaws, she could only imagine how she would react if Tam compared her to a Gryffindor. The temptation left her toying with the possible repercussions. 

Her pick? That was not the style of payback Tamis had been considering. Her expression fell slightly when she considered the type of locale Analiza might drag her into. There were a number of horrifying prospects. There were a number of nightclubs that she knew she favored – one of which had recently appeared in the paper. Tam didn’t pay it any mind, nor would she – she preferred to take people at face value than by reputation. She could always claim that she did not have anything appropriate to wear – the Unspeakable beat her to that punch as well.

"... And you and I really MUST go shopping some time soon."

Tam’s gaze followed Ana’s none-too-subtle glance at her rather favored cloak. It was sturdy and practical and made the eye pass over her easily – great for becoming invisible in a social setting. As an auror, that was a desired trait. She decided to feint ignorance.

“If you insist. But I'm not much of a fashion consultant,” she admitted, pretending to believe it was Ana they were intending to shop for.

“If you insist. But I'm not much of a fashion consultant,”

Analiza paused, blinking for a moment as she processed Tamis' comment. Usually she would have gotten it right off the bat, but she was caught by surprise. A second later, once it processed, Analiza sat back and let out a bark of laughter. Normally she would become enraged if someone dared to suggest that she needed a fashion consultant. After all, she had worked so hard for years to maintain an image that rivaled her Fashionista sister and had to always look her absolute best, so any implication otherwise was highly insulting. Luckily, she knew Tamis well enough to know she was only joking. Otherwise, she would have suffered greatly.

"This much is evident..." Ana replied, eyes twinkling mischievously. She sat back and eyed Tamis, waiting for her to fire one back. It was almost a game to them, this back and forth, like a tennis match of wits. "What you need, my dear Miss Raynor, is a man in your life. That will entice you to add some color..." She winked a little, her grin widening. The thought of Tamis with a man reminded Ana of something she wanted to ask the woman. "...Speaking of men, reminds me, I had a question about one of the Hitwizards in your department. What do you know about Lukas Quinn?"

It showed the difference between the women’s two mentalities that Tam was unaware that she nearly provoked violence. Casual observation had summarized that other women went shopping in support groups. They would each offer an opinion of what one of them had happened to pick up, cooing when it was appropriate and squawking when it was not. The latter items were to immediately be returned to the shelf from whence it dared existence.   This would initiate stage two, where they would help each other surpass the morality against the dreaded price tags.

It was doubtful Raynor would ever be able to play that role well. Tamis had refined tastes in clothing, but she reserved such talents for formal occasions. Everyday attire should be sensible and low maintenance – and should not drain the pocketbook.

"This much is evident..."

“All the more so when I am with you,” Raynor quipped back, toasting the other woman with her bottle. The corner of her lips twitched. There was no doubt that Analiza Snark stood out like a beacon in the casual little pub. “Next time I will let you pick the place,” she finally agreed solemnly. 

“What you need, my dear Miss Raynor, is a man in your life. That will entice you to add some color..."

Tamis sputtered. There was no other way to describe it. One moment she was placidly taking a sip of her butterbeer and the next she was choking on it, suddenly glad that it was not something stronger. 

“I thank you for the fashion advice. But I doubt that color would have anything to do with my choice of attire.” She shook her head and attempted to return the grin, “I’ve already had the man of my life.”

And that was the root problem of everything. The woman was still caught up in her past, so much that she often forgot that she had to keep on living in the present. There had been a time when Tamis Raynor had been a rather trendy, mischievous witch. A person long forgotten and would be until the day she was able to resolve Tait Aldridge as a cold case.

"...Speaking of men, reminds me, I had a question about one of the Hitwizards in your department. What do you know about Lukas Quinn?"

A reminiscence of the impish witch reared its head. A grin tugging sincerely on her lips now, covering the brief surprise that had filtered across her expression a moment ago. This was exceptionally curious. One of her eyebrow’s quirked suggestively. The hitwizards did not fall under her jurisdiction, Ana knew that. So it couldn’t be a disciplinary question. But nor did Analiza Snark ever take simple, casual interests in anything.

“Why do you ask?”