Laying Low

At Angus’s words, Remy thought intentionally of scenes that would make blood rush to her cheeks. Embarrassment did not come naturally to Remy, because like all other emotions, it had to be elicited or imitated. But thinking of what she would like to be doing with Angus right now, or maybe that guy on the other side of the bar…

One at a time, love. One at a time, Remy’s subconscious reminded her, refocusing her attention on Angus as he elaborated on his statement that his protection of her hadn’t been beyond his job description. Clearly, she was doing a good enough job of reeling Angus in on her hook, and any good fisherman knew you couldn’t catch two fish on the same line, so she needed to prioritize for the moment, or instead of getting two men, she would get none at all. Her lower abdomen ached at the thought.

“Well, thank you anyway,” Remy said coyly, brushing back a curtain of dark hair that had fallen over her shoulder, “I’m fortunate that annoying dark wizards seems to be a hobby of yours.”

This type of flattery usually made Remy sick when she was forced to witness it in other people, but she had learned over the years how important it was to make men feel needed and appreciated and all that other nonsense. Otherwise, you got nothing out of them. Angus returned her smile now, before leaning over to pick up the glass that was currently serving as a dark-wizard prison, and cast some kind of sealing charm on it before tucking it away inside his jacket. Remy raised her eyebrows at this action, but they lowered themselves quickly once Angus put a handful of galleons on the counter to pay for a replacement glass.

“Oh yes,” Remy lied smoothly, swiftly sweeping the galleons off the bar and sliding them stealthily into her pocket, “I will be sure to let Vito know that the missing glass will be replaced. He is very particular about his assets.”

But not nearly invested enough to count the glasses, Remy added privately, knowing that extra coin was going straight into her tip jar. Vito would never see it nor miss it. That was one of the greatest appeals of working for Satan’s – the place made so much money that no one ever missed a few extra galleons here or there, but they made all the difference to Remy.

Without her having to prompt him, Angus resumed their conversation, and Remy was starting to feel that soon she wouldn’t need to work nearly as hard to ensure the night ended her way. Angus was already coming back to her of his own volition; afterall, he had lost the man he had originally been seeking, and the one that had come to find him was now tucked away in a pocket. He had everything he needed to leave, and yet he had chosen to stay. Unsurprisingly, Remy was once again getting what she wanted.

“Well, I’m not particularly picky,” Remy said by way of explanation, leaning on the bar directly across from Angus and being certain to let her tank top hang loose away from her chest, “I can certainly appreciate good food when I can afford it, but I don’t require it. Whatever’s on special usually suits me just fine, though whether that is out of necessity or lack of palate I couldn’t say,” Remy added with a sly, flirtatious smile.

“Perhaps you could show me the finer side of dining sometime?” Remy suggested casually, looking up at Angus from beneath her dark eyelashes, “You know, if you were ever looking for some company to share one of those fancy dinners you cook.”

'How old are you, anyway?' Angus asked himself. What the hell was he doing here tonight? His quarry was gone. He had Gelding in his pocket. No doubt Robert would turn him loose eventually, but for right now, they had at least a short reprieve through the holidays. What Robert did with Gelding was none of Angus's business. He didn't really want to know anyway. But here he still stood, flirting with a beautiful woman who was flirting with him. Angus wasn't interested in more than perhaps a one night stand, and he didn't get the impression she wanted any more than that either. She was clearly a highly sexual woman. He didn't really need the glimpse down her bra. He could see from her trim, fit figure that there was nothing undesireable under that tank top.

He felt like he was starting to walk out by himself on some rather thin ice, and for some reason, even though it felt like it was getting slowly thinner, here he was, feeling adventurous enough to go forward. Turning back, turning away, seemed to be decidedly harder. Frankly, it wasn't what he wanted. It passed briefly through his mind that perhaps someone comfortable enough to make herself into such a strong presence in Knockturn Alley might not be the sort of woman he'd likely take home to his parents, but...at the moment, he wasn't looking for a long term relationships. In fact, he was running from that will all due speed.

He took a sip of his firewhiskey, as if it would clear his thinking. Unlikely. Firewhiskey, if he had enough of it, was only going to cast him farther out on that thin ice and cloud his already compromised judgement. She ratiionalized her lack of interest in the quality of her food. That would have been a turnoff to him, except...she had rescued it with a request for a dinner invitation.

"Ah, well, that depends on whether we can find a kitchen, Love," he smiled. "I am...between places at the moment. Dinner sounds great, but we do need someplace to cook it." That was more or less true. He was staying the night upstairs at the Leaky. He figured he could purchase some time in the kitchen if he needed to, but he wasn't unlocking that portion of his life. And he wasn't stupid enough to not realize that dinner was, for her, merely the opening act to the main event later on. He wasn't entirely opposed, but even he had some limits on what he would and would not allow in that.

Ouch… Remy thought instinctively, when Angus mentioned that he didn’t have access to a kitchen at the moment. It meant he didn’t have a steady place to stay, which was always a hangup with Remy. The dark-haired woman had a standing room above the Leaky Cauldron, paid for by Draco Malfoy, who liked to know where to find his mistress on the nights his wife failed to satisfy his needs (i.e. all nights, as far as Remy was able to tell.)

But Draco had been tied up in all this Death Eater business, and since she was avoiding everyone who carried the Dark Mark, at least until things died down a bit on the subject of any suspicion surrounding her, Remy wanted to remain absent from her usual haunts. She had to come to work, of course, but it was unlikely that anyone from the Death Eaters would be able to have a private conversation with her here, among all the customers.

However, this still left the issue of where Remy was going to take Angus to have their tryst… ahem, dinner. Remy thought for a moment, filling a pint for a man at the end of the counter to buy time before returning to Angus was a smirk on her face and her hand on her key ring.

“We can head over to my place after I get out of work,” Remy said smoothly, as though it were the obvious choice. And to Angus, it would be. He would never know that the house Remy was planning to use didn’t belong to her, but rather to one of her usuals that she knew was out of town for the holiday with his kids. His house would be empty, and was close by, and he would never know that she had borrowed it.

Plus, it had a kickass kitchen. Not that Remy spent much time in the kitchen while she was there…

"I think I've got everything you will need," Remy said flirtatiously, her smirk deepening just before she had to dismiss herself once again to go attend to a group of women that were beckoning her from the other end of the bar.

Well, in point of truth, the place where he was living would have probably stunned her. He was, in fact, the point man for security for one of the most powerful wizarding families in their world. He lived with them, guarded them, swore to surrender his life for them if he had to, and when he wasn't needed for that, he enjoyed gourmet cooking and anything else he could do in order to have a semblance of a family here. But taking a pick-up there? To an unplottable location? A woman he only knew because she sold him firewhiskey? Yeah, that wasnt' going to happen. So, he fell back on what was the truth. He had no place of his own here. Why did this situation somehow reek of a chess game? It niggled at his brain.

"Well, I"m glad one of us has a place," he smiled. He glanced up at the clock. "I'm guessing you stil have a couple hours? That would work well for me. I could go get the things I'm looking for." Angus was sometimes overly finicky about having the very best and the very freshest ingredients. And he didn't settle for less. It wasn't likely that there were many food purveyors open at this hour, but when the hell did that matter? He had connections and could get whatever he wanted. "Does that work for you?"

What was he doing? He didn't usually fall for a one night stand with anybody. He didn't usually get involved. He had a very firm no-comittment policy. But then again, who had said a syllable about commitment? So far, he had no reason to b e dashing away from her in abject terror.

“Me too,” Remy replied to Angus’s expression of pleasure, loading her two-word response with as much sex-appeal as she could muster, which was considerable considering the amount she had practiced over the years. There was no real reason to conceal her motives any longer. Any man who agreed to come over to a woman’s house this late at night under the premise of ‘cooking dinner’ was not going to be turned off if Remy turned up the heat.

At the man’s question, Remy followed his glance to the clock behind her and noted the time. 10:30pm.

“I’m off at midnight,” Remy said, turning back to Angus, “That should give you plenty of time to get… prepared,” the vixen said, choosing her last words wisely. Angus could say anything he wanted about fetching ingredients and planning for a meal. As far as she was concerned, he could heat up fish sticks and that would be just fine by her. But his refined palate would likely sneer at such a suggestion, so she would let him do his wooing and showing off in the kitchen before they retired to the room where Remy could do her own showing off: the bedroom.

“Meet me out back a little after midnight. Vito doesn’t like people to linger back there, though, so take your time getting back,” Remy instructed, not wanting her night of fun interrupted by her irritable boss. Unless, of course, that boss wanted to fill in for Angus…

Too many fish in the sea, Remy thought wistfully.

“I’ll see you later,” Remy said with a flirtatious wink, ending the conversation before Angus had a chance to change his mind. He still might bail on her and now show at midnight, but if so, Remy would just head over to another pub and play the same game with another guy. She wasn’t picky about who fulfilled her needs tonight; it had been too long for her to care, and besides, it was just one night.

((Do you want to move this to a new thread, or continue here after he comes back?))