Kurby did not ask to do things, no, he just did them.  And this evening, as they were leaving the flat of the big auror, he had just assumed he was going to walk with her.  Margo did not expect such a thing when she had arrived, and the mere suggestion of it had raised her eyebrows.  But, with the topic at hand and the fact that they were planning on using her smell to trap him or whatever it was they were doing, well, Margo couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to walk home with someone on a balmy beginning of summer evening.

So, walking next to her friend, looking so odd and out, being so tall with him standing at least three inches shorter than she, Margo had her hands in her pockets as she sauntered, looking up at the sky above the industrial buildings crawling upward.  The smog blanked out the stars, which she had, up until just a bit over a year ago, got used to seeing every evening outside of her tent. 

It had been a very long year, and thankfully, there had been some people to fill it.  Rosheen, a fantastic friend, the people she reconnected with (both good, Bagnold, and bad, Cuthbert), and the new people she met on an everyday basis.  She was certain if she wasn’t surrounded by these people, she would not have been able to cope with any of this. 

Sighing, she breathed in the dirty air and shoved her hands in her pockets.  She jumped slightly at the sound of an automobile’s horn, something she still hadn’t really gotten used to.  Staying in Muggle London was certainly a change, and she did not think the Muggles understood her at all, but to them she was fairly solitary, and the strangeness seemed to come with that trait.  If only they knew. 

It made her quirk a smile a little, considering how absolutely against anyone finding out they even spoke to one another was, and here he was, walking her home.  She supposed the cover of unfamiliar territory and muggles helped.  “You know,” she finally broke the silence, “I don’t say this often, so enjoy it:  Thanks.” 

The meeting had not gone particularly well.  He still felt ready to throttle Adon, who apparently thought that being estranged family meant he could shout at him whenever he wanted, and if he ever caught Radley alone in a dark alley -- well, at least Kurby had had plenty of practice swearing that he'd thought someone was a werewolf. 

The Aurors, as expected, had been egotistical and full of themselves.  Everyone in the room but Amherst had known what they were hinting at, and if Kurby hadn't been there to call them out on it, he had no doubt which way their "plan" would have developed.  They all knew this was important.  Macduff had to be stopped.  But what the men and women of Level Two seemed to forget all too often was that "stopping" came after "protect."

He had been walking silently next to Amherst, still stewing in his thoughts.  Tracking Macduff was not going to be easy, not when all it would take was one slip up and they'd potentially lose someone else.  At least the Aurors, for all their wisecracks and temperaments, seemed to understand that.  In their goals, they were of one mind.  This had to end, no matter what it took.

He would have been content to walk all the way back to Diagon, accompany Amherst to wherever she had to split off to return to her Muggle hotel, without saying a word, but of course that was too much silence for the dragon handler.  If it had been anything but an uncomfortably direct statement to him, Kurby would have just ignored it.  Amherst could prattle on all she wanted to; it didn't affect him.

“I don’t say this often, so enjoy it:  Thanks.”

The werewolf hunter grunted.  He didn't particularly want to acknowledge that sentiment.

"Well, you don't have to be so bleedin' stupid about everything," he grumbled, crossing his arms against his chest.  He kept walking, not looking at her, not making eye contact.  "I don't even know what you're thinkin' sometimes, Amherst.  You got yourself into this mess.  How would havin' anything to do with some bastard like Macduff be a good idea?"

Margo did not expect him to be receptive.  That was nowhere within her radar.  He wasn’t the type that openly acknowledged sentiments, and by her declaration, neither was she.  It took a lot for her to say anything, and of course, Kurby couldn’t even keep quiet and to himself.  Generally, she would have been angry at that reaction too, but comparatively, she might have preferred it. 

“Of course,” she shook her head, “Of course you can’t be a decent person for one half of a minute,” she snorted, kicking the road with her boot.  “You know, sometimes I really wonder what kind of masochist I am for putting up with you,” she said with an ironic smile, not looking at him.  It wasn’t going to be that kind of confrontation.  One minute he attempts to stand up for her, the next he was basically calling her an idiot. 

Thankfully her legs were a little longer than his and she was able to speed up to be slightly in front of him.  She didn’t want to deal with looking at his arrogant, smarmy, bastard face.  If she did, she might crack him across the nose and she had met muggle police before – they weren’t too kind to fist fights, and using her wand… she’d probably only light him on fire.  And that wasn’t going to be looked on very well either. 

She rolled her eyes at him and threw her hands up in the air, “Because, you know, it doesn’t matter at all when I did meet the guy I had no bloody idea who the hell he was or anything, Bagnold.  I mean, listen to yourself!  Honestly!” She curled her lip in disgust and rolled her eyes.  She shoved her hands back in her pockets, still shaking her head, her hair brushing her neck and back. 

“I’ll walk myself,” she glanced over her shoulder at him, glaring daggers.  “Piss off.”

This was a far more comfortable tone of conversation.  Amherst gave a snort and snapped back at him, and Kurby was happy to leave it at that.  If she wasn't willing to keep her mouth shut and let them walk in silence, then the steady flow of bickering was the next best thing.

Except this time she didn't leave it at that.  With Amherst's long legs, it didn't take much for her to outdistance him when he was walking at a normal speed.  She fired back another verbal barrage and took off, leaving him standing dumbfounded in her wake.

"What?" he demanded incredulously, jaw dropped as he stared after her.  Gritting his teeth and entirely frustrated at the fact that he had to do this, he hurried after her.

"How the hell are you going to walk yourself?" he snapped as he caught up with her.  The words came out sounding even more sore than he'd meant them, but if there was one thing he'd learned in the past few months, it was that as competent as Margo Amherst might be around dragons, living on her own in London was an entirely different story.  "You can't even get through a goddamned meeting without getting' yourself volunteered for some other duty that's going to get you killed."

The frustration of the past few weeks was suddenly out in full force now.  He hated being worried; he hated having to admit that he was worried, and it was bad enough when he was having to admit it about his family and not a coworker who often irritated him through the sheer fact of her existence.  Having to race to keep up with her because she was suddenly blowing up at him for no reason just made his anger at the entire situation even worse.

"What the hell are you going to do, set Macduff on fire if he comes after you?  I've got news for you, Amherst," he added, glaring back at her.  "There're charms for puttin' that sort of thing out."

There was no reason to answer his question.  Margo was not talking to him currently, and if he thought he could get away with trying to get her to change her mind.  She was going to walk herself home by herself if she had to run there.  She knew she could outrun him.  She might not be able to apparate very well, but she’d manage if it came down to it. 

“I seemed to be doing a fine job of it before you caught up,” she sneered, trying to quicken her pace even more.  Maybe if she could just outlast him he’d give up.  He didn’t have to be so nasty to her, particularly when she was relieving him of some kind of duty no one told him he had anyway.  It wasn’t like one of the aurors had told him to keep an eye on her, or protect her or some junk like that.

Margo Amherst did not need to be protected.  She was independent.  She was a dragon researcher.  She had faced beasts that could eat her – this was Kurby Bagnold and some werewolf.  Granted, she didn’t necessarily think that MacDuff could be as easily studied as a Dragon.  Dragons had very discernable concerns: food, territory, and mating.  To some degree, she assumed the same was with MacDuff, but there was that human element of there had to be something else – particularly as he did not need her, and he did not need to kill anyone – there was some motivation beyond survival.  That was what Margo could not deal with.

People were complicated.  As intricate as social networks of dragons could be, they did not operate like people.  People had weird things – Kurby, as it so happened, was one of the weirdest she knew, and she could not dream of figuring him out.  She wasn’t going to start today.

“Since when do you even actually care, Bagnold?!” she cut at him with a hard edge to her face, “Take the chance and go, for Merlin’s sake!” She rolled her eyes with exasperation, “I’m a big girl – I'll figure it out."  She set forward again, hoping he'd just fall to the wayside.  For someone who never wanted her around, he was exceptionally difficult to get rid of.