Of Badgers and Snakes

If there was anything that Sebastian disliked more than family parties, it was probably going to events that he hadn’t actually been invited to. Why shouldn’t he have been on the list of people to send out invitations to? Instead, he was stuck at this stuffy party with a grand amount of people he had hated in school – and they had almost undoubtedly hated him back. Unlike most of the parties he attended, though, Steve wasn’t able to come along, as Bash was someone’s fake plus one.

“Rose, I really wish you hadn’t dragged me along to this,” he pointed out with a forced smile to someone across the room. They must have forgotten who he was. Sebastian Sinclair was hardly someone people smiled at easily. Rose, of course, was one of the exceptions. He had agreed somewhere along the line – between his flirting with her, their failed fling, and many times just like this one where they played the role of the potential significant other – that he would do this for her if she asked. Thus, glaring at the man across the room wasn’t exactly an option.

Sebastian couldn’t even remember what this party was for. It couldn’t be for Rose’s job, as she worked at Hogwarts and many of the people attending worked at the Ministry if he remembered correctly. Maybe this was some Ministry gala. They seemed to have those often enough. Speaking of Ministry employees…

“Oh, hell, Rose.” Sebastian growled under his breath. A dark-haired man that was distinctly Hufflepuff had just entered with some girl on his arm. “This is brilliant.” She didn’t even have to pass a questioning look when she realized it was Morrison. The two men had never gotten on, and Rose had definitely heard enough about the ex-Hufflepuff student. “Just perfect.”

Bash didn’t even wait for Max to look over before he started glaring in the man’s direction. Even if Rose whacked him he probably wouldn’t have cared. He never worried about the opinions of others. Clearly. This wouldn’t be the first time he decided to do so. Glancing down at the redhead by his side he frowned. “Don’t expect me to be polite to the badger, Rose. You should just hope I manage to avoid him.”

Jack usually didn't got to ministry galas, but Michael had told her it would be important for her to maintain a good standing in the Ministry if she was going to be working on tearing them down from the inside. So, that's where that left her. Luckily, she had a friend. These parties had always been better with a friend. Nemo had made her tolerate them, but she was certain this would be even better with Max, because they would not end the night in Auror custody.

Well, that was still a possibility, really.

She looked around and as she did, she found her eyes caught by someone openly giving her and Max the stink eye. She looked up to see if he had noticed - if he had, he was doing all he could to pretend as though he hadn't. He knew her well. How sweet, he was preventing her from causing a scene. That was so nice of him-

"OY! You with the constipation face. Problem?"

((Sorry it's small. Trying to jump back in the groove))

Bash had just started to lift a glass to his lips when the redhead at Morrison’s side spoke up, taking him aback. The woman wasn’t one for subtly was she? Offering nothing but an eyebrow raised sardonically, Sebastian took a drink before dropping a hand to Rose’s back as he eyed Morrison’s girl. She looked familiar, though he couldn’t place it straight off. He probably went to school with her; he seemed to be running into all sorts of people from Hogwarts as of late.

“Trust me, love, any man who looked at you would wear that face,” Sebastian dropped lightly, hardly caring if Rose ended up embarrassed by his reply. The girl knew him well enough by now; there was little she could do to stop him, even if she tried. “Any with sense, at least.”

The jab was obviously directed at the badger, though Bash didn’t both glancing over. The man would undoubtedly know who the words were for. A smirk arched its way onto Sebastian’s face even as his eyes danced with ill-suppressed mirth.

“Don’t worry, though, sweetheart.” He added, the last word massively patronizing. It had become a bad habit to drop sarcastic endearments as an attempt to show his decided superiority. He clearly wasn’t going to stop with Max’s date. “The look was mostly directed at your Hufflepuff.”


(OOC: I'm suddenly rather tempted to try and get Emily in on this. Because I feel like this could be hilarious.)

((Ditto. I'll link her to it.))

She had surprised everyone within hearing distant (which was most of the room) but most had immediately returned to their own business when they ad realized it was her. Jack Dyllan had a reputation, after all, and her current actions were exactly how such a reputation had been built. she squinted at the man but did not recognize him. He was probably not an important ministry man, and she doubted he was heavily involved on one side of the wizarding war. He was not a sports rival. Therefore, he wasn't anyone she had any shame in harassing back. He was sorely mistaken thinking the same of herself.

His comment was juvenile, so Jack reacted with poise and grace - she began to obnoxiously clap, slow and loud, before calling, "Brava, prima donna, brava! What chapter did that come out of in your Big Books of Teases and Insults?" People were glancing over again as her resounding claps echoes off of the grand marble walls on the Ministry. She had now turned away from Max entirely so she could face this strange man who was still separated by several yards. The crowd between them had dispersed so as to be out of the line of fire, which was a wise decision on their part.

Sweetheart. She hated the word. It was up their with princess and darling. If she was the sort of girl to have a purse, this is when she would have handed it to Max so that she could launch herself on the man. Instead, she slowly made her way towards him, looking very menacing in professional dress that set her apart from the other females who had donned skirts and dresses. Her hair remained as untamed as always, red curls brushing the back of her neck as she approached the man, getting right up into his face, as was her M.O.

She was in his face, fire in her eyes and danger in her bones. Her jaw was set, and she glared at him for a long, hard moment before she ticked her head and smiled. "You must be new to this." She thrust out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Jack Dyllan. I'm the psychopath people don't cross. You are?"

Sebastian’s fairly sarcastic smile only grew in response to the woman’s return for his drawled comments. To say he was amused would be an understatement. As much as he disliked Morrison, the woman on his arm was vastly more interesting – and probably a decent diversion from such a boring party as the one he found himself stuck in the middle of. Glancing down at Rose, Bash didn’t mind when she seemed to want to head off and find someone she knew. Instead he just grinned and let her head off to some man across the room, ignoring the concerned glance she threw back. At the very least, Rose knew he could take care of himself; undoubtedly she was just worried about those he had ended up speaking with.

“Truly, love, your wit astounds. It’s no wonder he keeps you around. At the very least, he has someone to fight his battles for him.” Peering at the pair of them over the rim of his cup, Bash took his time downing a good portion of the drink. He only brought it down when the redhead stepped forward, his expression fairly blank.

If she thought a name could intimidate him, Jack Dyllan would be poorly mistaken. Sebastian was used to names being thrown around in the office, either by way of someone trying to get a job or in order to get themselves out of trouble. He had quickly grown tired of people name-dropping, even if it were their own name that they gave. Although her hand was practically right against him with their new proximity, Bash didn’t lift a hand in return. Instead he simply watched her for a moment before smiling at her.

“Bash Sinclair. I would suggest that you’ve probably heard of me, but as far as I can tell, you’re in… lower circles.” He shrugged, passing a smirk over her shoulder at Max. “I’m no Ministry man, though I guarantee I have both more money and more power than you expect. I’m not the one who needs to be careful here.”

He left off the bit about being in with the Death Eaters, especially considering the location, not daring to get himself into trouble. He was one of the sort who helped take care of debts or paying people off; he wasn’t even sure if his cousin and business partner even knew. But it kept him out of danger, and made him some particularly helpful alliances. It would not, of course, do well to mention that during his first conversation with Max and his redhead.

Max hadn't really thought twice when he invited Jack to the Ministry event.

He hadn't worried as they had changed for the party, both dressing in suits.

There hadn't even been any concern as they walked around the room and collected appetizers off of trays that floated around the room.

But suddenly Max was very, very worried.

He had caught sight of Sebastian as they entered the room and tactfully avoided the man's line of sight for a few minutes. Of course he would be here, the one man in the entire world that Max could come close to calling an enemy (he preferred to think of him as a 'less-than-friendly acquaintance' or 'old competitor'), always managing to bring out the worst in the Morrison man.

Quidditch had only been the beginning - the two boys had argued about everything from girls to the best flavor of ice cream at some point. Max was the type of man who enjoyed working on Spongebob coloring books and drinking tea in his evenings but if there was someone who made him less than pleasant, it was Sebastian Sinclair.

It might actually be helpful to have Jack there to keep him - oh no.

Worry turned to outright panic as his wife's incredibly commanding voice cut though the room towards the very man he had been hoping she wouldn't see. Max was visibly wincing as the pair seized each other up like a pair of peacocks, practically closing his eyes with the wish that the scene before him would just disappear.

Max cowered behind Jack as her wrath began to escalate. He loved her, he really did. But she wasn't kidding about the psycopath part.

Jack was in Sebastian's face as the pair shot insults back and forth, leaving Max unsure if she was actually upset or simply enjoying the chance to cause a scene. The redhead had an amazing talent when it came to crafting quick, witty insults that Max could only admire from a distance. When it came to confrontation he preferred... - well, he just never confronted anyone, did he?

Bash threw Max's name out as every opportunity, looking to provoke one of the two. A strange part of his brain chimed in that Jack wouldn't be bothered by it, considering they were only roommates, but he almost immediately dismissed the random thought. Max reached out to tentatively touch Jack's arm. "Let's just go. He's really not worth it." The Hufflepuff shot his old rival a displeased look, desperate to avoid any more of a scene.

She had never. Ever. Ever. Met a more insufferable man.

If Jack had not been bound by the responsibility of raising her six year old cousin, she would have transfigured the man into a slug by now, or cursed him, or apparated with him to the top of the building and hung him over the ledge b the ankles. But the whole point on marrying Max was to avoid Azkaban, so it made no sense going to jail for the sake of protecting her faux husband. However, it did not feel like she was defending a husband. It sort of felt like the old days, when she would punch some chick for bashing on Chase, or some Slytherin for making a rude comment about Andrew, or fighting off an entire barful of people that had been irked by Nemo. It felt a whole lot like she was defending her best friend.

Huh. Marriage had not gained her a lover, it had gained her a best friend. She had gotten a sweeter deal than anyone with this marriage law business.

"And I make a mean rum and coke," Jack quipped. "But please - I'm not your love."

Ugh. He was literally the worst.

Jack faced a lot of obnoxious people who liked to trash talk. She was a professional Quidditch player, after all, and part of the job was being able to insult the mothers of your competitors. It was hard to remain empathetic in such a position, so Jack sometimes reminded herself that therese were people with families, and friends, and lovers, and those people thought their beloved whatever had an arse that the very sun itself shined out of. She reminded herself of the lonely nights these people faced, the exhausting hours, the painful moments.

But only sometimes. Mostly, she insulted their mothers and punched them in the face.

"Never heard of you," she said honestly. "Mostly because I don't make it my business to know the local wankers, but I'm glad I know the name so I can seek to run it through the mud next chance I get. Though it may be better to just show people a picture rather than flaunt the name if I want them to be disgusted."

Max spoke up and Jack turned to him. "Let's just go. He's really not worth it." Jack's eyes flashed with that Dyllan-danger. "Yes, but you are."

She turned back to the man. "Money and power are nothing. I'm not going to tell you the resources I have access to, because I've never thought a pissing contest was anything more than primal. But I can tell you this. You insult my family, or God forbid, threaten them again with 'more money and power than I can expect' and I guarantee I can make you cry in front of all of these esteemed acquaintances of yours - and what use will all of that regard be when they know you for the snivelling worm you are? Enjoy your night, and try not to get poisoned." She turned, and took Max's hand, confident enough to lead him through the crowd, away from the silly little man behind them.

Morrison, the Hufflepuff that he was, immediately wanted Jack to back off, making Sebastian smile a bemused half-smile to one side of his face. A part of him wondered if these two had been matched, or if they actually were under the impression that what they had was love. Luckily, Sebastian wasn’t involved with the law. Having been born in the States, he was legally able to avoid the law, and was mightily grateful for it.

Rose, however, was hardly so lucky. She had been matched with Bentley Pierson – usually, Sebastian didn’t mind the man. But now that he had offended Rose on multiple occasions, Bash would have none of it; instead, he kept Rose closer than he usually did, his gaze darting to her as she ambled around the room to his left.

Rather than rising to the redhead’s chides and returns, Bash simply waited for her to turn and walk off before he let out a low chuckle as he watched their retreating forms. Shaking his head, he lifted his cup and knocked back a good bit, wondering if his laugh would actually catch her attention. If not, Sebastian could simply ask Rose when they could leave, or just tug on her arm until she conceded and let him lead her away.

(ooc: gross. Short. Sorry.)

Max was 74.3% surprised when Jack took his hand and willingly removed herself from the confrontation. This was not the first time that he had been present during a battle-of-the-wits (and occasionally fists) but it was the first time that he had managed to extract Jack before anything illegal or genuinely dangerous happened. So it was with some pride and a lot of relief that Max was led through the crowd like a puppy on a leash, as far away from Sebastian Sinclair as Jack was willing to take them.

As they made their way through elegantly dressed couples Max leaned forward to whisper, "Are we going to poison him?" He was deadly serious (no pun intended) but the observability of the statement struck the Hufflepuff in an odd way and he began to laugh quietly, a nervous sound that was covered by the chatter of his coworkers. "I really can't handle that right now." As if the Morrison could handle homicide at any other time.

It was only when they were a safe distance away from the threat that Max registered her first comment. The tiniest of smiles curled up the corner of his lips and he glanced up at his room-mate who was still parting the crowd ahead of them. Even wild-eyed, pulling the arm out of his socket, she was still beautiful. Maybe her confident anger made her even more so.

They stopped and Max released Jack's hand and was embarrassed to find his own slightly sweaty. "You okay?" he asked as he discreetly wiped it on his pant leg. Max wasn't worried about her feelings being hurt.. he was more concerned about her walking back across the room and tackling their Slytherin friend. PDA stood for Public Displays of Aggression when you were out with the Dyllans.

Max followed willingly behind her, though she knew he would not insist on remaining in any confrontation that was not wholly necessary, but she found herself glad for his compliance nonetheless. It was hard enough as it was for her to walk away from someone so deserving of her wrath - especially when she felt like she had the advantage - so to have an ally follow her away from what could have been an unforgettable, glorious triumph, made 'making the adult decision' just a little more tolerable.

Adult decisions just... weren't as fun.

People around her were definitely noticing. She was the only lady in the entire building wearing trousers and an expression of such danger. (Lady - ha.) Her arm slackened and Max's voice floated towards her. She turned back to look at him, smirking. "We? You'd help me posion someone?" The smirk deepened. "I'm touched." He expressed his true sentiment and she turned forward, continuing their trek. "No, I'm not going to poison him." She glanced back, grinning. "Too many witnesses."

She turned back forward. She'd just... let him figure out whether or not she was kidding.

She stopped their progress once they were near a drink table. She released her husband and began to peruse the table. Under her breath, she muttered, "Champagne... White wines... Where's the good stuff - aha!" She located an ornate glass of scotch and opened it, pouring a glass for herself. Sure, she had not been allowed to give the horrid Sinclair man what he deserved, but Scotch could be a nice compromise.

She threw back a small swig, grimacing but getting it down. For such a high class affair, they sure had picked a horrible brand of drink. She turned at Max's words and looked up at him, gently confused. "Why wouldn't I be?" She smiled.

((Linds - I know we sorta dropped this, so no worries. Em - if you want to write a final post, go for it, but I also made it so it could end here too. Whatever suits your fancy!)