Bring that Cheer - Closed

[Marlon Wagner]

Day before Christmas eve

Marlon was supposed to be at home. He was supposed to be there, stuffing his face because Cammie had ordered too much food, and there was company...of some sort. It was hardly the first Christmas that he had missed, and it was hardly going to be the last. It wasn't even Christmas, not really, he had a couple of days...but the way that Cammie had been carrying on about all of it, he might as well have been killing somebody. He had put himself into enough trouble by being too behind. There was just...so much work to be done. Even though the Ministry was unofficially closed for Christmas break, he was here. Every day. Night and day, all night and day working to catch up. If he kept at this pace, and kept away from the egg nog, he might actually be able to start the year off how he wanted it. It was bad enough that the bonus' were late. Not the way that he was wanting to finish off his first year in office. Which, was what he was delivering right now, the statements. Of course the coin had been deposited a few days ago, but not many people would think to look. It really was the least thing that he could do, deliver the statements to each and every desk in this huge building, and if it meant giving up his Christmas to do so, so be it. The stack of envelopes in his hand was already significantly lower than it had been whenever he had started, and might have still been lessening, had it not been for the lights. Apart from the TimeStopper, none of the lights had been on in any of the floors that he had been to...his fingers already selecting the proper envelope from the stack before he rounded the corner, were it nefarious, his wand was only a grab away. What sort of Minister would he be if he couldn't defend an office? Though, he hadn't been excepting somebody working, not that she was dressed for it as much as he might have expected, but then again, she wasn't supposed to be here. His hands went out to stop her automatically as her hip went into the desk, wincing as her body made the contact. “Dear me, are you alright?” he would excuse her profanity, she obviously didn't know who he was. Which, shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did, but he was dressed down...slightly. His large black coat marring most of his outfit from view. His blonde hair loose around his face.

At least she seemed to be alright, her limbs seemed to be more or less in tact, even though she had a a bit more bruising than he liked to see on a woman. Any woman, regardless of history or reason for having said bruise. It hit too close to home for him. Not that he said a word. He returned her easy smile with one of his own, pearly white teeth flashing as he moved into the office “Yeah fine, I just wasn’t expecting anyone else in the office?” “Neither was I,” he held up the envelopes in his hand as means of explanation, placing the correct one down on the desk, golden wax seal facing upward, “Though, I'm afraid I'm fairly certain I never leave here,” which was true enough, but his words were light. This was the only place for him any longer, only place that he had, the only people in his life beside his beloved little sister. “What is your name? I'm sorry to even have to ask, I should know by now...” he inquired, fingers sifting through the envelopes while he waited.

“Dani… Daniella. Why would you have to know my name by now? My superiors sure as hell don’t expect me to remember everyone.” That was unhelpful. Daniella was a handsome first name, but she wasn't the only one in the building with it, and he needed her surname, one out of three, she was. If memory served him correctly, and he really hoped that it was. His brain was reaching capacity, he feared. That would be a loathsome day. If it were true, that her superiors really didn't remember her name....or, well. No, he couldn't make sense of the second half of that statement. “And they’re all a bunch of stuffed broads, you can’t tell me yours are worse.” Stuffed broads? He was going to have to put out comment cards, he couldn't tell if she was just talking to make conversation, or if that was really how she felt about the whole thing. He hoped it was the former, he really was getting rusty on his social graces. Served him right for only leaving the office once a day. “No, ah – I cannot say that mine is worse,” he admitted somewhat awkwardly...which was another strange feeling on him. He was normally able to adapt more quickly, it had to be the concern for whether or not she was actually unhappy with the working structure here or not. “Though, I don't have a superior.” He put out there softly, respectfully before turning back down to the envelopes “Parker, Thurmson or Wilde? Ms. Daniella?”


Wearing: This

[Daniella Wilde]

-----------------------------------

TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET

did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY

----------------------------------

The “son of a bitch,” tripped off of her tongue and into the empty office space, figure hopping around on one foot for longer probably than was needed to soothe the toes of the foot that had been jammed into the desk leg. Stupid damn, stupid, STUPID desk. Who the fuck angled their desk like that anyways? Didn’t they know that some people needed to walk here?! The lights were turned completely down, darker shadows dancing through the black despite the absolute lack of light that should have been needed to cast them. Breath gusted out in an aggravated sigh as the heel once more connected with tile, eyes narrowing at the desk and leaning around to read the name plate. Peterson. Of course she’d come into Peterson’s office when she was aiming for Murphy’s, it certainly explained why the layout of the office had been different than she’d been expecting. Sea-green eyes rolled skywards, muttering under her breath as she dug around in her bag. She’d hoped to just go office to office without having to activate the lights. Had the folders organized by which office she’d be hitting in time. But of course she’d gotten this all mixed up. Because she had all of that damn extra time to work it out. Several muttered words later and the light was flicking on above her head, eyes scanning the black folders in her purse for Peterson’s name. She’d meant to do this the other day before she’d left, she knew she’d be catching hell from several of them about the files being delivered later than she’d originally said… but it was Christmas holidays and it wasn’t like any of their happy asses were up in the office either. No one. Not one damn person in the department had their lights on right now. Well, she thought she’d seen someone exiting when she’d left the last office, but that was beside the point. Fingers closed around the correct file with a noise of triumph, drawing it out and placing it haphazardly on the near center of the desk, turning around with a satisfied smile… and freezing, half a step back from the surprise at there being a figure in the doorway sending the corner of her hip into that of the desk. “Fucking---" Another round of muted curses as she stepped back away, fingers rubbing at the sore bone- looking down as if to asses that it hadn’t splintered or anything. It had damn near been hard enough. Her ‘warn a bitch,’ was muttered as she looked back up.

She didn’t know why she couldn’t place the figure, she had that annoying feeling that she should recognize the man- but that didn’t mean much. There were so many people in so many departments here she was lucky if she remembered even half of their faces much less their names. Damnit. “Dear me, are you alright?” Dear me. That was cute, her teeth peeking out from between her lips in a grin as the amusement took her. She’d forgotten what normal people were like being home for so long the past few weeks. Not a damn one of those hooligans would have asked if she were alright. Actually, more likely than not, they would have been the ones pushing her into the table. A very similar situation had gone down when she’d gone to leave the house in the first place this morning- twins yelling about their eyes and how she’d made them blind- Mikey poking at her until she’d nearly fallen into the kitchen island and demanding she go put normal clothing back on. Like she didn’t wear a lot fancier for work. Bunch of damn hellions that’s what she lived with. How in the hell did she not remember a face that attractive? Why in the hell was a face that attractive up here over the holidays? Her shoulders rolled in answer to the question, fingers probing the spot that more than likely was going to be sporting a spectacular bruise by the time she got home. It would only help match the ones that she had decorating her torso from paintball earlier in the week. She could be a verifiable walking advertisement for bruising right about now. She could only thank Merlin that Matty hadn’t gotten her face this year like he’d been attempting. Something about scarring her up so she couldn’t ever get a date again. Assholes. She was digressing. “Yeah fine, I just wasn’t expecting anyone else in the office?” Turning into a question at the end of her sentence because…well again, attractive man- offices- holidays. It just didn’t add up.

Letters? What was he doing passing out letters? Ohhh, he was probably one of those office aids that the higher ups got. An office aid or a secretary or something. She would have gone with another auror before he indicated it. ”Neither was I.” Her torso leaned over, looking at the letter he’d put down. High up in the ministry then. Yeah, she supposed those bitches could afford to have several assistants. Although she doubted he’d been selected on the dedication to passing letters out alone. I mean shit, if she could afford to have an assistant she’d chose him to- there wouldn’t be a damn thing wrong with getting to see his ass bend over and get things. Her lips curled up further, biting back the commentary in her head as he answered her. “Though, I'm afraid I'm fairly certain I never leave here,” Here as in this floor or here as in the ministry? She was going to have to ask Peterson if he knew, or Wentworth. Ash knew almost everyone it seemed like. If it was this floor she’d have to come start visiting Peterson in her down time, even if his breath did always smell like week old sardine and had a lacking understanding of personal space… “What is your name? I'm sorry to even have to ask, I should know by now...” Again the lip curl as she finally dropped her finger, “Dani… Daniella. Why would you have to know my name by now? My superiors sure as hell don’t expect me to remember everyone.” And if they had they’d be sorely disappointed. She was lucky she remembered half of their names as it were. She wasn’t big on the social one upping in the work place. Her pops had taught her better than that. She did her job, she was good at it. She followed the instructions she was given and made sure she met all of her quotas in then some. She knew her record was excellent because of it. But she couldn’t think of a damn name that went further than one person above her. Hell, she didn’t even remember the new minister’s name. “And they’re all a bunch of stuffed broads, you can’t tell me yours are worse.” Sue her, she was flirting, she knew she was. She knew she probably shouldn’t have been. But again, attractive man, long dry spell. And she really liked his coat. That was okay to base something off of right? I mean shitty people didn’t buy nice coats…

“No, ah – I cannot say that mine is worse.” So a pretty boss it was then. Well hell, there went that. It didn’t stop her smile any though, or put that big a damper on her spirits. It was holiday season, she was having a nice day out… after she finished dropping off these files that is, and she was talking to an attractive man. An attractive man who may or may not be involved with his boss. She hadn’t seen a ring on his finger but around here that didn’t really count for much unfortunately. She’d been on the wrong end of that before. “Though, I don't have a superior.” Didn’t have a superior? Secretaries didn’t talk like that- office assistants either. Every one she’d met that worked in the building used their employer’s names as rung holders, stepping up on the ladder the further up their bosses were. Not to mention that they didn’t talk like he was, with that… refinement? Damn. That meant he was higher up than that. Possibly, almost certainly higher up than she was, which definitely put a damper on things. She’d just casually informed him that her higher ups were stuffed shirts after all. Which could very well be him. Shit. This is why she didn’t mix office with home- being too comfortable always seemed to put her foot in her mouth. “Parker, Thurmson or Wilde? Ms. Daniella?” Ms. Well fuck. Three. Why would he know all three surnames off the top of his head like that. “Wilde.” Her eyes ran him over again, trying like hell to place just where she knew him from. Asking for his name would be no help, she already knew. Which meant… “What do you mean you don’t have a superior?” The question slipped through her lips quickly, eyebrows narrowed in concentration. “Because if you are one of the stuffed shirts, you know- apologies.” A short shrug of her shoulders.

TAGGED: Mr.Minister
OUTFIT: link
WORDS: numbers here.
NOTES: uhhh....
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[Marlon Wagner]

Day before Christmas eve

“Wilde,” he repeated with a smile, at least he would remember her now, at least he would know her face. One more person learned. He plucked her envelope from the bunch, extending his gloved hand toward her with the pristine envelope, hopefully that would make her thing that her superiors were just a little less stuffy. He didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was, he never wanted to make anybody uncomfortable. “What do you mean you don’t have a superior?” He just smiled a little wider, no need for that. Telling her that he was as high as he could possibly go, or that he had just been promoted to a new, higher position would give him away, all too quickly, he was afraid. He liked her candor “Because if you are one of the stuffed shirts, you know- apologies.” The fingers of his free hand moved to grasp both his jacket and sweater in one hand, pulling them away from his chest to show a very plain white shirt underneath, resisting the urge to throw in a wink, he wasn't a school boy anymore. He didn't need to charm her, he needed to remain professional “Not a stuffed shirt today, Ms. Wilde,” he released his coats, pointing once to the envelope “Happy Christmas,”

He had forgotten how nice it was to make another person laugh. Had forgotten what it was like to laugh himself. He hadn't done it in so long. What a very sad notion that was. She really was very pretty whenever she smiled like that, so comfortable with herself. That much was more than obvious. Still, he hadn't been expecting her to grab his wrist like that, or to stop him. Courteously, he turned back to face her. “You’re not going to tell me your name? It’s only fair after all.” Ah, she did have him there. Darn social courteous. The look on his face clearly said that if he didn't answer her, he would have his English gentleman's card revoked. He couldn't have that. Couldn't not answer a direct question whenever posed to him twice. “Apologies,” he straightened himself, he shouldn't have, he was tall enough as it had been. “I'm Marlon Wagner, pleased to formally meet you Ms. Wilde,” he extended his hand toward her, taking hers and grasping it firmly, he assumed that she would change her manner of speaking once she knew, it wasn't her fault she didn't know his face. It was his, he should be out and about more often. From now on, he would make a point of it. “If you would like, I can have a word with those stuffed shirts?”

“Oh?” he nodded once, it was the least he could do after all, moral was very important to him. Most of all since it had been lacking before he took office. “Do you have some secret order of the stuffed shirts that allows you to manage that?” she still had no idea who he was. Which was distressing for any number of reasons. He knew as minister he should be more known, but then again it was nice not to be pressed to behave one way or the other. “something like that,” nonplussed as his gaze turned back to her. “They’re fine really,” perhaps it had just been talk then. He knew employees did that sometimes, spoke poorly of their bosses to bond with one another. That was comforting. “I’d think it was safe to assume that we have some of the same names here on our deliveries. If your very nice,” he nodded, glancing down at her files. “I can walk with you to deliver them.” it was such a kind offer, and while he wouldn’t mind the company, he wouldn’t keep an employee from her family. He assumed that she had people to go home to anyway. “That's very kind of you, but I simply couldn't.” he held his hand out to her, “what do you have there? Since you're likely right I would be happy to deliver them so you can get back to your celebration,”

She really was charming, and that was most likely because he could tell that she was making no effort to be so. She was just at ease with herself, it would appear. In the world that he had integrated himself into had more than it's fair share of fake people and conniving ways. It was tiresome, but it was politics. . “I have the time. And anyways- it’s nice to be able to say I delivered them myself for when people start complaining about the timing of them.” his workaholic nature itched, he wanted to help her, but he wouldn't take on her work whenever she was happy to do it herself. He could agree with the self satisfaction as he moved behind her through the doorway, turning out the lights and shutting the door on his way out swiftly. “Unless you’d rather I go about stumbling into desks some more that is? I’m always great for that.” Genuine concern flashed over his face at the thought, “No, I don't think I would like that at all.” besides, it opened the door to far too many lawsuits and he would really rather just...not. No sense in getting hut for no purpose. He moved toward the next closest office, noting the name on the door and shifting through the envelopes, holding open the door for her. “You're an Auror, correct? How are you liking our offices?”


Wearing: This

[Daniella Wilde]

-----------------------------------

TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET

did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY

----------------------------------

“Wilde.” She really did like it when people said her last name- like it was a commentary on the conversation rather than just repetition, it made her grin widen that much more as she took the envelope, looking over it from this close range with more than mild curiosity. She knew the seal at least, Minister’s office. He was high up then. Well that was fuckin’ righteous then, corner of her mouth twitching. She’d gone and told a Minister’s whatever he was that they were all a bunch of stuffed shirts, at least he had taken it well. She was going to comment on as much but as soon as she looked back up he was smiling at her like- well smiling at her period with that pretty face. She almost missed the motion he made with his hands entirely, berating herself for acting like a dazed damn fool. He was pretty, not godly, she needed to get a hold of that right quick. “Not a stuffed shirt today, Ms. Wilde.” The laugh was instantaneous, her whole face lightening that much more with the joke. So, he was admitting it then- just not so much as the exact station. ”Happy Christmas.” Her hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist with a more engaging grin. “You’re not going to tell me your name? It’s only fair after all.” She didn’t want him to walk away just yet. Didn’t want him to walk away not just because he was rather handsome- oh Lord never let any of the boys hear that she had used that word in relation with any living human being- but because he posed a mystery. One she wasn’t even sure she wanted solved. “Apologies,” Well damn. At least the warn a bitch was silent in her head this time, chin tilting up with her easy smile- he towered even with her in her heels. Which should have been normal enough, she had giants for brothers too… but he was unrelated to her, a fact that was very distinct in her mind. “I'm Marlon Wagner, pleased to formally meet you Ms. Wilde.” Again, the niggling reminder that she probably knew that name somehow, that it should connect more firmly with his face. She didn’t focus on it though, just tucking the name away in the back of her mind as she held her own hand out, wrapping her fingers around his with the same sort of measure she applied when working- even if she did hesitate a bit longer over letting go of it than she would have had this been as formal a meeting as his words would imply. “If you would like, I can have a word with those stuffed shirts?” Quaint. That’s what it was- his way of speaking. Quaint and polite and any number of other words she didn’t have the chance to be around often between her line of work and home. “Oh?” Her eyes sparked with the repressed grin as she tilted her head. “Do you have some secret order of the stuffed shirts that allows you to manage that?” The corners of her lips twitching as she hitched her purse higher up on her elbow, stepping around him slightly and towards the door. “They’re fine really,” it wasn’t as if she had such a big issue for the people she worked for. They just didn’t have any sense of humor. All robotic and… well stuffed. Not that she was going to say that much when he had already so clearly identified himself as one of them- albeit much prettier and with a much better sense of humor. “I’d think it was safe to assume that we have some of the same names here on our deliveries. If your very nice,” wicked grin around the jokes she refused to make about that, “I can walk with you to deliver them.”“Something like that.” Something like that. She was going to have to ask and find out what exactly the bureaucrats over her were organized like before she commented on that again. Or figure out how in the hell they worked that kind of shit out. She had a tendency to block all of that out, the posturing that they did in order to keep their office and their station. She wasn’t so much into that.

There were so very few of them who were actually working at that point any more anyways. Although she could name five off the top of her head that she knew personally. There were always exceptions. And she was more than willing to bet that a self-proclaimed stuffed shirt who walked around handing out letters himself could be counted among them. “That's very kind of you, but I simply couldn't. What do you have there? Since you’re likely right I would be happy to deliver them so you can get back to your celebration.” An unladylike snort- funny how she noticed that with him talking so freaking elegantly- escaped her- her fingers closing around the folders and tapping them on his outstretched hand before pushing them back in the crook of her arm above the purse. “I have the time. And anyways- it’s nice to be able to say I delivered them myself for when people start complaining about the timing of them.” Crooked grin as she held her arm out. “Unless you’d rather I go about stumbling into desks some more that is? I’m always great for that.” She passed by him and through the door, scanning the list of names on her folders only briefly as she paused outside of the office. She was vaguely aware of the fact that it could be taken as her pushing her company on him like this- but she wasn’t overly fond of the word no when it came to something she wanted. Not that she wanted to be dropping all of these folders off personally, but she certainly wanted to keep talking to him. And if walking along to a good deal more offices was the way to go about that… well she was game. “No, I don't think I would like that at all.” Another crooked smile, lips closed over her teeth this time as she looked over the door they were approaching. Not one of hers but that was just fine. “Well I should hope not.” Had been counting on the fact.

Shit, how did he manage to stay so polite? He must work on up there in the P.R department. Maybe he was one of those that handled the press and the general public for some department or another. Although she’d rarely seen them polite to other employees, most of that was saved for dealing with the civilians. Understandably. Her eyes ran over his profile thoughtfully as she tried to further categorize him. He wasn’t slouching it in wrinkled jeans and a hoodie despite the desertion of the office either. Whatever that meant, it was still a notable fact. Although his white tshirt was rather- yeah okay, she wasn’t going to go there when he was speaking again. “You're an Auror, correct? How are you liking our offices?” The hum of acknowledgment was low, her head nodding despite it. “Hmm…” Our offices? She’d been here for such a long time now- had gone straight into the business after graduating. Easy enough when over half her family had already infiltrated the department. Her lips tilted up as she shrugged, walking ahead of him to open the door, swinging it open and leaning back against it as she waited for him to deposit the other envelope. “I kind of grew up in and out of them. So it’s familiar at least.” Wasn’t that the truth- waiting up in her father’s office for hours with one of the sick boys, usually the three youngest in tow, so that she could get what she needed from him between cases and so he could get some time in with them when his case load became too heavy to keep regular hours at home. “They’d be nicer if there weren’t so many of us doubled up,” it was a joke, clearly made in the way she phrased it- teasing lilt to the edge of her voice.

TAGGED: Mr.Minister
OUTFIT: link
WORDS: numbers here.
NOTES: uhhh....
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[Marlon Wagner]

Day before Christmas eve

She wouldn't let him open the door for her. Interesting. Most people were happy to not have to do anything for themselves. His eyebrows lifted fractionally in surprise as he turned sideways to move into the room without infringing on her personal space, selecting the right envelope and setting it on the desk. “I kind of grew up in and out of them. So it’s familiar at least.” His fingers lifted to pinch his brow, pained that he didn't remember what he felt like was an important fact. It might have been unrealistic of him, to expect to remember so many faces and legacies, but he did regardless. His finger coming to point at her as if he had just remembered something important. “Yes! Christen! Your father! Wonderful man, and your brother Michael, just signed onto our training program? Do I have the right family? I remember his application crossing my desk,” he hadn't been in the right department whenever she had been hired, so it wasn't the same. He might have spoken too much already but he was pleased that he had just remembered something. “They’d be nicer if there weren’t so many of us doubled up,” His gaze lifted to hers, accessing. It sounded like a joke, but her eyes said something a little differently. “I'm sure that's an inconvenience,” clearly apologetic regardless. Moving on to an office, and then another at an easy pace. Strange how for him, none of the doors were locked.

He liked the way her smile changed at the mention of her family, obviously it was something that was very important to her, something that she cherished. He could respect it, he felt the same way about his sister. Perhaps not about his father, but he id have familial love. “Yes exactly! My pops worked right up until they practically forced him out the door,” Yes, he remembered signing the man's pension. Downright shameful how long it took. It had been one of those things that had been buried on top of his desk whenever he had inherited the office. Taken too long, Callista should have handled it. Not that he needed to talk to her about her fathers issues, it had been handled and it was certainly all taken care of now. Which he hoped was the important part. “And two other brother’s besides, my older ones. Matty transferred to the states a little while back though.” He wasn't fully aware of the ones that weren't in this office, but he knew the names. Knew of the work vaguely. Enough to follow her story. “And Mikey graduates this year,” he turned to her briefly while walking “Hmm, I know,” he alluded to the fact that he was going to have to give the graduation speech, without saying so outright. She looked so very proud of them, beaming in fact. He would be willing to bet that she wouldn't bump into things while she was thinking about her family. “And next year you’ll have the twins.” He paused midstep, eyes scrunching closed “Daniel....and.....Simon? No, Scott! Yes?” feeling proud of himself once more. “Yes well, if they do anything like their family, I will set aside a position for them right now.” he smiled easily, falling back into step, dropping off another envelope. “Not really for me. I wasn’t stuck with Wentworth. It’s Booth who was stuck with the crap end of the deal.” A full bodied laugh left his lips, like rich red wine. Wentworth really was a git. “I think they can handle each other,” he knew that didn't help things, and he would be lying if he had said that perhaps...construction had been drawn out as payback for Wentworth sleeping with Cammie all of those years back. He just...hadn't considered the others in the office, and he had been petty. He couldn't keep that up, not as Minister.

“They’re a bunch of shits, don’t get me wrong.” His head moved a little too quickly toward her, not that he was adverse to swearing, certainly not in her line of work. It was nearly expected, he just wasn't used to people swearing around him. Normally thought that he would be offended by it or something, as if he wasn't going to have to listen to a string of insults to make a sailor blush whenever he did find the time to get home tonight, if he did. “But they’re going somewhere. I know it. And I’m not just saying that because I’m their sister,” He could tell. Even if he hadn't already known who they were, he would have been able to tell just by the way her whole figure seemed to light up the more she spoke about them. “Accurate enough. At least Booth isn’t wearing that cape to work anymore.” He couldn't claim to know what he had done on a daily basis or clothing that he wore, and he certainly didn't know anything about a cape. He did know, however, that Ashton wouldn't have taken to it lightly. Were he not so damned good at his job, he would have been fired ages ago. No doubt, that was something to do with said cape. He chuckled, envisioning it now, the bitter look on Wentworth's face. He didn't dislike him, but he certainly didn't like him either. He wished he could say as much, but he couldn't. That was highly inappropriate. He placed an envelope on each desk that he passed, and it occurred to him that she hadn't even asked what it was, just had accepted it. He glanced to the folders in her hands, almost done with those too, must have been her only floor, he still have four more whole floors to get to. And then some. He would be lucky if he had time to pop out for coffee before returning to his desk. “It's nice, the way that you talk about your family. I think that's worthy of note. How obviously proud you are of them. As you should be, they have accomplished so much and I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your brothers as well. Though, I would keep them away from Ashton...”

“Pfff. Those rotters will be fine. They’re nearly as bad as that tosser already and their still in school. Actually- “ He just smiled, listening to her as she spoke, even though it might have been considered vulgar to some, he thought it was passionate. She couldn't have insulted them quite so many times If she didn't care about them. He knew that from experience. “I think Mikey might have ended up worse if he weren’t already in a relationship.” A relationship so young? He couldn't say anything about it, not really. He had been in the same position, had been with Autumn for years on end, until he had been stupid enough to let work get in the way. He didn't even know what she was up to anymore, she wouldn't return any of his letters. He shouldn't think of such things in this moment, wasn't right, given his current company, to be distracted by painful memories. He hoped that Micheal, would find happiness and longevity in his relationship. No doubt he deserved it. Everybody did. “Forgive me, but – rotter?” He was unfamiliar with the term, hoped that she would explain it to him, the want written between his eyes, his slightly furrowed brow. If he could walk away from this having learned something, then it would have been time well spent. His free hand moved to the back of his head, fixing the strands of hair slightly, “I'm cooped up so much I don't have all the time to stay current on the modern social colloquialisms,”



Wearing: This

[Daniella Wilde]

-----------------------------------

TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET

did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY

----------------------------------

“Yes! Christen! Your father! Wonderful man, and your brother Michael, just signed onto our training program? Do I have the right family? I remember his application crossing my desk.” The grin that crossed her features at the mention of her family was a totally different one than the ones she’d had passing her lips- fond at her father’s name and downright adoring at Mikey’s. The training program. She was so damned proud it was practically vibrating out of her pores. That was her baby. Her oldest baby. And Scotty and Danny would be next. All but one Wilde Ministry involved. Her grin stretched even further with her nod. “Yes exactly! My pops worked right up until they practically forced him out the door,” it hadn’t been an exaggeration either. Had it not been for his partner’s death he might never have left at all. “And two other brother’s besides, my older ones. Matty transferred to the states a little while back though.” To relocate closer to Vivian’s family- something that she could hardly blame him for seeing that her parents had Alzheimer’s and were nearing in their last few years, could even- he’d confided in her his first night back- be in their last one entirely. It was a sad state of affairs but then Matty was taking care of it all just like he always did. “And Mikey graduates this year,” again the unmistakable pride as her shoulders rounded out. She was so damn proud of those three for carrying it on- they were going to outstrip them all, she just knew. “And next year you’ll have the twins.” Who would probably continue to try and pull the wool over everyone’s eyes with their impersonation of one another even after they were hired on. Her arms crossed over her midsection, smile nearly splitting her face in two. They’d be overrun with Wilde’s here soon- bursting out the doors with the lot of them. And all the better for it too. It wasn’t until she paused from her mother hen preening that she realized what all his statements implied. That would mean that he was in the personnel department then, maybe even in charge of hiring. That had to be interesting. She wondered if he was the one who conducted the interviews himself or if he was just on the paperwork end of things. “I'm sure that's an inconvenience.” She walked with him silently for a minute, narrowing her eyes as if she was considering it before she realized they were at an office she had paperwork for as well, brushing past him to place it on the desk before she answered. “Not really for me. I wasn’t stuck with Wentworth. It’s Booth who was stuck with the crap end of the deal.” Easy grin as she turned back around.

“Hmm, I know.” Of course he would. Definitely personnel related then. Well that was one mystery solved. Definitely not completely. But she figured it gave her enough of an excuse to track down his office at a later date. She could take him coffee or something. That was friendly and unpushy right? Right. It would do. He was too polite for her to do anything else. Even if there was a running commentary in her head going on. Running commentary effectively ruined by the mentioning of the youngest of her brothers. “Daniel....and.....Simon? No, Scott! Yes?” Again the smile that nearly split her face in two. From her oldest baby to her youngest two. “Yes. Danny and Scotty.” Their given names were only for when she was bitching them out, sounded weird coming out in normal conversation- even if she did like the way that he said them “Yes well, if they do anything like their family, I will set aside a position for them right now.” She chuckled lightly, shaking her head- taking the compliment to her family for what it was. They had done an excellent job, her father and brothers; in their departments and jobs. They’d all moved up fairly quickly all things considered. Exemplary. More so them than her, but she did well enough she knew. “They’re better. Them and Mikey.” She shrugged, sincere in her evaluation. “They’re a bunch of shits, don’t get me wrong.” Little asswipes the lot of them. “But they’re going somewhere. I know it. And I’m not just saying that because I’m their sister,” she added, shaking her head slightly. Those three were just… destined for something- for greatness. She’d told them so enough growing up- the whole brood of them stretched out under a fort that the older siblings had constructed off the ceilings in the living room during storms, laying on her back with the three of them piled onto her and telling stories. They were meant for something those three, meant for something big and exciting. They were going to outshine all of them. Her mind went blank for a moment, feet tripping over one another in a short stumble that she quickly tried to recover and pretend hadn’t happened when she heard that… noise. She wanted to call it a laugh. But she also wanted to feel it against her skin and that was twenty different kinds of inappropriate considering everything- not that a good portion of her brain cared. Merlin. Someone needed to help a brotha’ out because she had completely lost track of the conversation there. “I think they can handle each other.” Handle…? Oh right. She laughed as well, shaking her head. She was sure they were both absolute gits to eachother. She got along well enough with the both of them though, in varying ways. Actually, there weren’t many people in her department she didn’t get on with. “Accurate enough. At least Booth isn’t wearing that cape to work anymore.” She passed off another folder, somewhat dismayed to realize that she only had two left.

“It's nice, the way that you talk about your family. I think that's worthy of note. How obviously proud you are of them. As you should be, they have accomplished so much and I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your brothers as well. Though, I would keep them away from Ashton...” He was so damn composed and put together. She didn’t know whether her jokes or the way she spoke was offensive or not, had to go back in her own mind and assure herself that no- he really hadn’t cursed once, or flinched when she had. She was used to people talking a certain way, or responding to things like it. She had six damn brothers and a pops with the mouth of a sailor. She hung out with Ashton on some of her off days even when he was being a pain in the ass and kept Irish around as friends. She … was rather impressed with the fact that her talking about the boys, about her family like that didn’t have him side eying her like she was some supernatural freak show- he hadn’t made one disparaging comment about how many siblings she had- or an asshole comment like Ash did when she got really into how great those boys were going to be. She liked that he liked the fact that she was crazy about her family. The keeping them away from Ashton comment though- she wasn’t sure how to reply to straight off. Because fuck if she wasn’t just as bad as he was in some respects. And her brothers… she had absolutely no idea how well Marlon knew him or how he thought about him- but she wasn’t much on games anyways, or changing her tune just because someone else didn’t agree. “Pfff. Those rotters will be fine. They’re nearly as bad as that tosser already and their still in school. Actually- “ She screwed her face up, shaking her head as she passed off another folder. “I think Mikey might have ended up worse if he weren’t already in a relationship.” Think- she knew. That boy was a dick on legs – she’d bought him enough condoms that never came back to know as much even if they all weren’t so honest with one another.

“Forgive me, but – rotter?” Her head swiveled, eyes disbelieving. How had he not heard rotter before? Her father called all of the boys that growing up. But again. Sailor. Whereas everything out of Marlon’s mouth seemed one line short of becoming prose. “Like-“ her free hand flapped between them eyebrows scrunching. “A worthless asshole? Not that I really think they are ya know? I mean it in the most affectionate way possible. But they are assholes.” Clarification was key. She would talk them up and up and up when it came down to it- but she wasn’t about to lie to him and make those three twats out as saints. They were awful all in their own rights, but it didn’t change just how amazing they came out when you looked at the whole of them. “They’ll get on with Ash just fine anyways,” her eyes rolling to the back of her head at the thought. Actually. In some respects she hoped they stayed as far away from that catastrophe as possible. One wrong word and it would be hell on earth at work. Oh fuck. That was actually something she was going to have to worry about now. She was distracted, rather well, by the movement of his arm, her lips curling as they went to his hair. He had rather pretty hair come to think of it. She normally didn’t look at blondes over much- what with… well she tended to like darker hair. But he pulled it off nicely... “I'm cooped up so much I don't have all the time to stay current on the modern social colloquialisms.” There he went with the prose again, her lips turning up more fully. “You know, you speak really beautifully,” an aside comment as she tilted her head. “Like you’re going to slip off into poetry at any given moment.” She would have thought it would be annoying, if anyone had told her that they knew someone who talked like that- and it might have been had it not suited him so well, or come across so differently. Shit she didn’t even know. It was just damned attractive that was all.

TAGGED: Mr.Minister
OUTFIT: link
WORDS: numbers here.
NOTES: uhhh....
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[Marlon Wagner]

Day before Christmas eve

“Like-A worthless asshole? Not that I really think they are ya know? I mean it in the most affectionate way possible. But they are assholes.” So, contextually, he was correct then. At least he had clarified. He was glad that she didn't seem bothered with the fact that she had to explain it to him, “They’ll get on with Ash just fine anyways,” He chuckled – clearly amused. At least that gave him a better impression of the lot of them than any amount of background checks or resume's would have been able to. “You know, you speak really beautifully,” His lips closed into his smile,he didn't think he spoke any differently than anybody else afforded his breeding and level of education. Not that he always tied diction with education. It was a choice, and he chose to speak this way, however it was, he supposed. His English accent tilting the words in a way that he knew most found either pleasing or arrogant, depending on the day. The Irish lilt he had been born with had long since faded, and was only prone to resurface in company of his countrymen. “Like you’re going to slip off into poetry at any given moment.” He exhaled curly, he didn't know about that, though if she wanted poetry, he would be happy to recite. It was a hobby of his, nearly anything that could be read was, in fact. “You flatter me Ms. Wilde,” his eyes shifted to the floor, walking once more, suddenly very aware that there was only one folder left in her hand “Unduly, I'm sure, but appreciated none the less.” he should have been more courteous. He didn't know if words of praise came easily to her or not. “Who's left?”

“Like that.” He didn't even know what she had meant that time. He wished he did. He could recite law and deliver verdicts, could draw up a contract with no pause, but this...he wasn't as good at this as he used to be. Too many years alone. “It isn’t flattery anyways. Flattery would be telling you that you were the most attractive stuffed shirt I’ve met,” “Ahah...” slightly nervous laughter at her words, he could feel the collar of his jacket getting slightly warmer. He felt like he should say something back, but didn't want to cheapen the sentiment. “Estelle,” His eyes lifted to the embossed placards lining the walls, knowing that her office was the next one...and ceremoniously opened the door for her, before shuffling through the envelopes in his hands until he found the proper one and moved into the small, dark space to place it on her desk, aligning the edges with her blotter carefully...stalling. He was stalling and she was already leaving the darkened space for the lighting of the hallway, and he followed suit. Turning to her and her empty hands with a warm smile, “looks like one of our work is done,” he indicated her purse where he knew her bonus lay “You be sure to have a very Happy Christmas Ms. Wilde,” he had almost called her Daniella. Which, was uninvited and not the slightest bit professional. Scooping her hand up into his gloved pair he bent so slightly to kiss the back of her hand, politely, as a gentleman should, before righting himself and letting her go he turned to head down the hallway, and stopped himself after a step, “And truly it was fair enough for flowers,
had we but in us to assume in march....Such white luxuriance of May for ours.” He knew it was cryptic, and it was far from even a complete stanza, but she brought it to mind, the longing of things that couldn't be, of things forgotten.” his hand lowering back down with a short laugh. “Be sure to tell your father I said hello, and your brothers that I'm looking forward to meeting them in time,”



Wearing: This

[Daniella Wilde]

-----------------------------------

TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET

did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY

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"You flatter me Ms. Wilde. Unduly, I'm sure, but appreciated none the less.” Her laugh was light, turning her head to raise an eyebrow at him with a pointed nod. “Like that.” Just like that. She didn’t even think she knew anyone else who spoke like that- it was like he’d stepped out of a novel. Again, no complaints on her part. No siree bob. “It isn’t flattery anyways. Flattery would be telling you that you were the most attractive stuffed shirt I’ve met,” dimple lining one cheek as she said it, throwing a wink in for good measure before they rounded the corner. She didn’t, after all, want to run into a wall. She’d already displayed her obvious grace. Had started this whole encounter with it. Falling into desks and tripping over laughs. She was sure her talent as an auror was shining through. Her lips twitched in amusement, looking down at the name on her folder at almost the same time he phrased his question. ”Who's left?” Shit. She couldn’t even pretend that she had others in her purse, not now that he’d already seen- which was just a damn shame. She was well aware time to be meeting with Odette and going out for lunch- liquid lunch really, seeing that Odette’s whole reason for being here was to go eat with her mother- was coming up. She didn’t, however, want to leave him to wander the floors alone. Actually she wasn’t too keen on leaving just yet period. “Estelle,” which meant she was coming up on the office itself to place it in. Well hell. That certainly cut short the rest of the time she had left with him- which shouldn't even be a fucking issue- but she'd already as well as admitted that she enjoyed his company. Liked listening to the way he phrased things and to be perfectly fucking honest just liked looking at him. I mean damn. There wasn't a red blooded woman out there that would, to her knowledge, object in any way to spending time looking at his face. Merlin's saggy left tit but he was pretty. She sighed, a gust of air audibly passing forth between her lips as she watched him look up at the names lining the door. The very specific name that signaled the end of this little... whatever the fuck it was. Estelle. Ugh.

She didn't bother moving before him this time- wasn't given the time before he was opening the door for her to pass through, sliding through the opening and moving- thankfully devoid of incident this time into the darkened space and throwing the letter unceremoniously down onto the desk, silently cursing the woman who she normally had very little of a problem with. Her and being the last stupid stop. She considered pausing, waiting for him or something. Considered trying to find a way to draw the chance encounter out even further. Find a way to angle for a chance to see him again- planned this time. Angle. Angle and not demand. The fuck was wrong with her. A pretty face with pretty words just far enough out of the ordinary and suddenly her approach was totally different? Fucking insane. She turned, moving out of the office and back into the semi-lit hall, not looking back over her shoulder as she paused just outside that door. She didn't have a reason to go with him after all. No reason to continue to push for more time. And he hadn't exactly asked her to accompany him in the first place- though why that should matter at all was beyond her. ”Looks like one of our work is done.” She looked down to where he was gesturing, sardonic smile twisting her lips in form of acknowledgment. ”You be sure to have a very Happy Christmas Ms. Wilde,” proper. Just.. fucking proper. Her lips parted to correct him on her name, remind him that she was Dani but his back was bending and her hand was being lifted and she couldn't say she'd been that surprised or taken off guard by anything in so long it wasn't even funny- her eyebrows rising as the warm flush of awareness flooded through her chest, lips turning up in a different sort of smile. Her eyes traced the profile of his back as he turned from her- fingers curling so that her thumb could brush over the back of her hand where he'd put his lips, her own stretching up from the smile into a grin. No one did that anymore. Kissed a girls hand. Certainly not hers. She wasn't even acknowledged as a woman half the time as it was. ”And truly it was fair enough for flowers, had we but in us to assume in March... Such white luxuriance of May for ours.”

Where she'd been stunned before it was outright shock that gripped her now, her lips parting with the emotion as his voice changed, dipped and caressed the words that he threw back to her over his shoulder. Poetry. She didn't have to know the actual poem or be an aficionado of it herself to understand that that was what it was- the lyrics falling from his lips almost bringing a color to her cheeks she was sure she hadn't had there since gradeschool. Like his spoken word, regular conversation wasn't enough- he had to go and and actually recite poetry to her by way of goodbye. ”Be sure to tell your father I said hello, and your brothers that I'm looking forward to meeting them in time.” Nothing. No response called out to his again retreating back, no return quip or sarcastic remark that normally would have followed this kind of thing. He'd actually rendered her speechless, something that was so far out of left field that she stayed there for several moments even after he'd turned the corner from her sight- the muttered “fuck,” escaping her lips on a heavy exhale as one of her hands came up to press into her lower stomach. Fuck. Fuck indeed. If there had been any question of her looking him up after this it was gone, mind already moving forward to who she could ask about him- how she could arrange another chance happenstance run in.

TAGGED: Mr.Minister
OUTFIT: link
WORDS: numbers here.
NOTES: uhhh....
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!