| Details for The Princess and the Pauper |
| Summary: | Eddie and Sloan go on one of their usual jaunts where she begs him to teach her how to slum it. One of the usual fights occurs. However, Eddie finds it unusual how much she may be starting to enjoy the usual. |
| Date: | September 17, 1937 |
| Location: | — |
| Related: | None |
| Characters |
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Quitting time. Having been around the office. Somewhere that Sloan is very seldom seen, he had been corralled into escorting Eddie to a less reputable sort of place. and so, after a stop off at Sloan's hovel. And it really was a hovel. barely a shack, there were gaps in the walls, the glass in the windows had long ago been busted out, the door hung from a single hinge and was normally left open. Inside was an old Barrel stove, an ancient battered coffee pot sitting on top of it, and a single blanket on a beat up old Setee type couch being the only furnishings. Havin stopped to pick up a set of brass knuckles, Sloan had led her down to the wharfs and a Bar that didn't even have a name. just a smell. pushing the door open Sloan holds up a hand as 2 men come hurtling out knives in hand and looking ready to kill each other. With a grunt, sloan nods his head inside. "Leary Brothers. They'll cut on each other for a bit and come in for a brink, aye? Welcome to the Fish."
This is, undoubtedly, the first time Eddie has actually seen Sloan's living conditions. While she's very good about putting on a careless face, haughty and upturned, something about seeing his place has driven her quiet for a few moments. She might actually have a heart beneath all that platinum and silk. She doesn't comment on it yet, she just stands in the door, hugging her deep maroon cloak across her shoulders against the chilly Autumn air. Once he's done getting his things, she slips onto his arm and walks down towards those wharfs. She manages not to choke on the smell, but she does cough a little bit, waving a delicate hand in front of her face. "…Aren't there supposed to be live fish in that water? Bloody hell, MacDubsithe, it all smells DEAD." She half growls out, trying to breathe through her mouth now. And then the door is opened and the men come out. She yelps momentarily, ducking back against her escort's frame as she watches the muggles with wide eyes. "…Hell…" She breathes out again, both shocked and exhilerated. Then she's grinning back to him, trying to hide fear behind excitement. "Looks perfect. First round is on me… though maybe you should order." And with that, she waltzes straight into the room, all confidence and feminity beneath her shoulder cloak and elegant gray dress.
Nodding quietly to Eddie, Sloan steps in after her. He's not in 2 paces before he pivots on a foot and grabs a large man by the neck lifting him to tip toes, he growls. "Hello Billy. Before ye get 'ny ideas. The lass be wit' me. I'll be takin exception, and ears if any of yer boys be forgettin' that fact aye?" The man gives a strangled gurgling reply and a nods before sloan drops him once more. Billy was in fact, missing an ear already, it may or may not be coincidence. but the large man moves to the back of the bar and stays there while Sloan looks back to Eddie. "There;s no orderin' here Eddie. you just tell him how many drinks you want." Holding up 2 fingers, he leans on the bar next to a passed out Dock worker.
The witch is really doing her best not to look frightened. Nothing frightens Eddie Malfoy. But she might be in over her head tonight. This is, by far, the worst dive she's ever been to. She didn't know the MEANING of dive before Sloan brought her here. So, beneath that saucy smile and flashing eyes there is a line of tension Sloan has never really seen from her before. Nerves and a bit of fear. She's remaining a touch bodily close to him, not in a need to be intimate, but so she might hide should anything untoward happen. "…Drinks of… what? What is this?" She asks as he holds up two fingers. Meanwhile, she digs into her little satchel, pulling out the extra special pouch of muggle money she's kept for strange occasions. She stares at the Euros, blinking for a moment, trying to figure out just how many one might need. Flashing a 50 as she does it too. "…This enough, Sloan?"
Looking down at the Alcohol, the stuff being of that crystal cldear, colorless and high octane variety, he grunts. "Closest ye be knowin it as is Gin, aye? Jes' don' be expectin it t'taste like Gin. we only call it that because no one would drink it if we called it petrol." Downing his own quickly, he nearly spits it out again as Eddie pulls out a 50. Snatching it from her hand before too many can see it, he hisses "Jesus Feck Eddie. y'r gonna get us killed. Most these boys would kill their own mother for a 10th of this, aye?" reaching into his own pocket he comes out with a half pound, slams it on the counter and holds up 2 more fingers. Surreptitiously slipping the 50 back to Eddie at the same time. "Sorry. this jes ain't a nice place. don;t normally come here m'self, but I thought I'd ease you into the world o dives. my regular haunt might care ye off."
Edwarlinda stares up at him with slightly too wide, half confused blue eyes as he catches her hand like that and hides away the money. Too little? No. Apparently, too much. She blinks simply, tossing a cooly confident look across his shoulder at a few of the eyes they've gained. Maybe she's a woman of the night? She leans in closer to Sloan, making the motion look intimate and near even if she's just speaking to him. At least it will put their relationship in a defineable category for the men around. She settles onto the closest stool or chair to him, speaking before she dares touch the alcohol. "…This is the… easing in? I figured you were going for shock value, luv." She then sits up a bit straighter and grabs for the 'gin', picking it up and knocking it back with one smooth shot. That is something Eddie can handle, her booze. She blinks a bit against water in her eyes, but doesn't even cough. She also holds her hand up with two fingers, ordering two more as smoothly as she breathes.
Chuckling softly, Sloan settles onto a stool himself, his body turned slightly so he can keep the bar in his periphery. "Nae. Aside from the Cauldron, which I frequent because Knocker likes things a little more tame, and Elly's not half easy on th' eyes, I generally drink at the Drum. The bouncer there be named Troll, aye? on account of they think he looks like one. T'tell the truth, He ain't half so pretty and might be a wee touch nastier when it comes t'givin' a man a kickin' when he's down."
"And you've had many a night down, my dear?" Eddie asks him with a cocked brow, finally settling in at the corner of whatever sort of bar there is and getting almost comfortable in the room. After the inital violence? This place isn't so bad. She reaches back for her second round of 'gin' and knocks it down her gullet with a rough toss. This one barely makes her eyes water. Whatever credit her beauty lost her, she might regain with her stalwart stomach. She chuckles a bit, though it's more raspy than usual. "Not so bad…'salmost gin… not that patrolling stuff." She winks to him, but doesn't automatically order another round yet. She does, however, shrug out of her shoulder cloak and rest it across her lap as she crosses her legs. She's in an elegant gown of storm cloud gray tonight, low cut and showing off quite a good stretch of her pale skin. Far too expensive for this place.
Raising an eyebrow, Sloan grunts. "Me? Nae. Work most nights. S'when the wee things that bump come out. Knocker an I get the task of bumpin' back a wee bit, aye? on account of us hatin' th'paperwork and being slightly more evil than th'daytime buggers can handle."
The woman swats gently at his arm, "You are not evil, Sloan. You drag me out to who knows where just because I pout at you… And put up with you. You're doing it to make the world rather better. Don't pretend that you're this big horrid brut." Eddie gives him a rather warmer smile, some true regard behind her eyes as she settles into relaxing with him. The 'gin' might be helping as well. Legs crossed, ribs leaning against the side of the bar so she's mostly turned to face the room, she keeps an eye on everything even as they speak. "…Truly, Sloan… why live like this? The ministry pays you decently enough." She whispers, her head tilting closer to him, discussion of the ministry kept to an intimate, ears-only range.
Raising an eyebrow, Sloan grunts. "Not Evil, Aye? that's funny lass. I'm just a different kind of evil. Most the muckity muck types higher up, they sees me as a sort of attack dog, aye?…More of an evil pointed in the right direction." They were afterall talking about a man that had once caved in a dark Wizard's face with his forehead once. As She mentions the way he lives, Sloan stares at her pointedly for a moment and down another shot of gin before simply saying. "Leave it Lay Eddie."
And again, she motions to the bartender. Two more. She reaches into that walled and pulls out a ten instead, getting the demonination in her head a bit better now. She's not unintelligent, she's just not accustomed to the muggle world at ALL. This time, she dares try and sip at the gin. It's not nearly so tolerable, but she does a game job of hiding how bad it is behind a slightly tight smile. She doesn't back down from that stare or the pointed expression, her shoulders straighten a bit more. "Why? So you can stay closed off an hidden to everyone else? Be just the attack dog? The slathering beast on a leash for the Ministry that has no personality or heart behind him? How long have we worked together now, Sloan… I know bloody well better than that."
Still staring at Eddie, Sloan grunts. "Ye knwo the saying no better than he should be lass?" Motioning around him, he grunts. "This is me. no better than I should be, Aye?" tilting back another shot of the gin, he doesn't bat an eyelash, Steel grey eyes boring into her. "What ye want me t'say? deep down I'm a caring soul with a love of fine music an' fripperies? I'm deaf in m'left ear an I've never had a fripperie to enjoy. what ye want me tae say?"
Edwarlinda shakes her head slowly, shooting the rest of her gin. It's not really worth sipping. She can't take sipping the gin and hearing his gruff excuses. So, she knocks it back and then sits up a bit straighter, no longer casing the room but watching him dead on, giving him her full blue eyed attention to those gruff grays. "I doubt you care one jot about fine music or fripperies, and I'd believe the deafness… but it doesn't mean you don't care. If you didn't, you wouldn't do the damned job. And I happen to like you…" Her eyes trail the room for a moment, "And your… surroundings. It's… exciting. You're… real. Honest. I feel like I can breathe here. But… I hate… Damn, I don't know how to say it. I hate to see you suffer for your noble poverty. The money is going somewhere. I have some guesses. I just wish you'd take a touch better care."
Eyebrow raising slightly, Sloan waves a dismissive hand. "And where pray tell do ye figure th'money goes? general belief is that I pisses it away on th'back wall of th' Cauldron. or the floor o this an' many a fine establishment as this around these parts."
Edwarlinda levels her gaze with him rather intensely, sitting forward a touch more now. "…having just seen how much this 'gin' costs, I sure as hell know you couldn't piss it away on places like this. You'd be dead and buried from the booze alone. Your entire body would be pickle." She only half teases, but she knows how much an Auror makes, and she's not buying it. "Possibly you have a betting problem, but I don't think so. I haven't seen it. I'm guessin' you got some sort of family stored away somewhere your caring for." She studies his eyes dead on, trying to see his reaction to that.
If anything his eyes deaden. His mother had died during his second year at Hogwarts, his father had died when he was 6, Sloan being an only child, there was no family. Of course, it was a good guess. No one had known about any of this. "'S a Good guess. But wrong, Eddie."
Edwarlinda's head tilts a bit, spilling one pale curl across her shoulder instead of the artful sweep off of her face where she normally keeps it. She's toned down in a place like this, somewhere she knows is not safe. She might be wild, but she's also intelligent. Instead of showing off to the room as her normal method of operations, she's focused solely on the man across from her. Her eyes narrow a bit as he says she's wrong. "Not just…direct family, but maybe you have a child stored somewhere?…can't care for her, or him, too dangerous a life? I wouldn't blame you if you did…"
Snorting at that, Sloan raises an eyebrow. "Don't frequent the ladies of th'night and aside from Elly, you're the only lass t'spend more'n 5 minutes 'round me without getting nervous, offended, or scared. Nae. no children. What else ye got?"
"Hm." Eddie isn't often out mysteried, but he's definitely getting her this time. She also seems to relax a bit more at the fact he's not offended that she's poking at his past, or where all that money goes. She motions for another shot, though her motions are getting just a touch sloppy. She's not used to the muggle moonshine. It might hit her harder than she quite expected. "…You're truly the softest of hearts and have donated it to orphanages or charity?…" She makes a small sound in her throat, shaking her head. "No, too much out of a story book, that…" Then her expression darkens, a strange hint of protectiveness about her for a few heartbeats, "You're being blackmailed."
There was a slight widening of the eyes at the mention fo charities, though it's covered as he laughs at the mention of Blackmail. "What could there be tae blackmail me about lass? I'm an Irish pauper who doesn;t hide his dirty deeds in back rooms. More to th'point. Do ye really think I'd allow meself tae be blackmailed? I'd go tae Old Nick with th'man's throat in me teeth and his eyes on my thumbs."
There it is, though Eddie's possibly a bit too tipsy to remember it, the slight widening of his eyes. She hit close to something, but she's not quite certain what it is. Her head tilts deeper, red lips pressing into a furrowed line as she debates where she hit on something, but dismissed it too quickly to realize his reaction straight off. "Is it the orphanage, or the chari-"
And then there's a large man just THERE. Right next to both of them. Pretty much completely undressing her with his eyes, but the threat is clearly being made in Sloan's direction. He grunts and just tries to shove Sloan back and out of the way to get between the two of them. "I'll take care of the lady, pikey. Shove off." The man is several inches over six feet and built like a brick shit house. He's clearly used to getting his way.
Grabbing the man's hand by the thumb, Sloan apparently is nowhere near drunk it would seem, either that or he's fuelled by alcohol. Twisting the man's thumb one direction, he steps in and drives a Left wreathed in brass into the man's kidney. "Ye asked for the devils dance son. time tae pay the piper, aye?" It's a little sad when one cinsiders the fact that this is the liveliest anyone ever sees Sloan. Definitely the most energetic, it's even a little more tragic when one realizes this is both when Sloan seems the most Volatile and the most peaceful. his face wild, there's something in his eyes that is just accepting, almost longing.
Possibly that is why they get along so well? Eddie likes to court trouble, even if she knows better than to pull her wand out in a place like this. Which, effectively, cuts down her usefulness to nothing. She gasps as the tall thug sticks himself between them and abruptly half jumps out of her seat, grabbing at her current shot of gin and tossing it in the man's face, "Sod off, you brut!" She growls at him, just drunk enough to lose all sense of personal care. She reaches out, striking out a solid slap across his jaw even as Sloan is getting in the more detailed, and far more painful, shots. The man roars, shoving Eddie back violently against the bar before swinging back to Sloan and trying to get a good right cross to the man's temple, but he's already in pain from the kidney shot. Breathless and pissed off, he's not on his game and the fight has barely started.
Ducking under the swing, Sloan comes up with a righ hook to the man's jaw even as he dances back out of reach. "You chose a bad night Boyo. most days, I'd have ye down and it'd be all over by now, aye? but ye touched the lass. Now I'm afeared I have to make this last. I wish I could say this is going tae hurt me more'n it hurts ye. but it'd be an outright lie. Make pece wit' yer god son. He's about tae leave the room."
Not seriously injured, a bit bruised at worst, Eddie picks herself up from where she'd been tossed against the bar and the floor, scrambling back to her high heels and out of the way of the fight. Her hand rests clutched nervously against her chest, wand fallen with her half cloak to the floor, both having spilled out of her lap. She hasn't seen too many physical fights in her time, magic so much strangely cleaner, and yet more powerful in a way. It terrifies her, but she cannot look away, watching her colleague defend her honour. "Sloan…it..it's not worth it. Just knock him out and we'll go!" She calls over the vague chaos. No one else in the bar is interfering. Apparently, they're waiting to see who wins.
The brick house is big, strong, but slow. Far slower than Sloan, and he's suffering for it. He spits blood in Sloan's face after the right hook, as the man threatens to hurt him enough to send him on to god, "Pip squeak. Might be fast, but I can take ye down in one hit when I get one in." And he brings around an uppercut to Sloan's solar plexis.
slipping past the swing to the wind, Sloan growls. "Yer lucky." Stepping on once more, he brings his hand upo, palm cupped as he claps the man's ear. grabbign him by the back of the head he yanks the man forward as he drives himself at the man at the same time, smashing the man's face with the crown of his head, Sloan headbutts the man twice in the face before stepping back again and lettign the man go. The attack probably wasn't lethal, but if he was still conscious, he wasn't happy.
The attack is effective, even if Sloan's bell might be a bit rung. The brute is physically strong, but apparently not bull headed. His struggles quickly stop as he just hits his knees, then the ground, in one loud collapse. Some dust settles. The room is dead quiet for a few heartbeats, then the low murmuring conversations in the back start up again. Nothing else to see. Someone makes a side remark about it being too damn short. Apparently, the peanut gallery expected more of a show.
Eddie herself is still staring at the whole situation wide eyed and too innocently shocked. It's a strange look on her normally confident, careless features. A woman so used to being in charge simply doesn't know how to process being so out of her depth. She doesn't move from her slightly huddled perch against the bar, hand on her chest, breath shallow and ragged. She might be on the edge of true panic, but she's too good for that. She'd never let Sloan see her in such a state. Finally, she manages out, fingertips moving for him instead of herself and slightly trembling, "Oh… Sloan… Shite, shite… I…I'm sorry… Are you hurt? Shite…"
Moving to the bar, Sloan grabs the cleaning rag from behind and wipes the blood from his face. The calm longing in his eyes replaced with disappointment and pain for a second before they just settle back to that impassive Steel Grey. slipping the brass knuckles from his hand and kissing a broken knuckle on his right hand, Sloan grunts and touches his hand to his chest. "I'm fine lass. S'what I does, aye?" touching a rough, calloused hand to her chin with surprising gentleness, he turns her head this way and that, checking to make sure she isn't hurt herself. "C'mon Eddie. Let's get you some air. You'll be fine in a minute."
The touch to her chin seems to shake her out of it more than anything. Though long, long friends and comrades, Eddie simply isn't used to gentleness out of him. Once in a blue moon, when things were really rough, but when were things ever truly rough for a Malfoy? Her red lips twitch into a half smile, not beaming and wild but a bit shy. Nervous. Oddly more genuine for it. She lets him check, but her face shows no damage. The brilliant pale skin, high cheek bones, bright eyes, everything is perfectly in tact. "I'm fine, Sloan…" She reassures him softly before gingerly dipping to gather up her cloak and slip it across her shoulders once more. She doesn't protest departing, though. Her arm does, however, slip through the crook of his arm, standing even closer than they started the night.
Leading her out the door, Sloan shuts the door behind them, leading her to an area where the air is at least relatively pure. For London at least. He slows his pace when they get to that point, his path leading them towards the more affluent parts of town, and Eddie's place itself. After awhile of silence, he finally growls. "I'm sorry ye had tae see that Eddie. I know you highborn types prefer to handle things wit' yer wands an such."
The night is silence between them for a while, and she doesn't seem to mind that in the least. Even a good ways away from the dive of a pub, she hasn't let go of his arm. A Malfoy on the arm of a half-blood is bad enough, but a poor half-blood brawler? Her family would die. She doesn't seem to care. She holds close to him and takes in a slow, deep breath as they wind their way up to the far more proper, expensive streets and her town house beyond. His words finally bring a shake to her head and a slightly wider smile. "No need to be sorry. I… I like watching you work, you know. I know what I'm getting into when I beg you to take me to these places. I.. I…shouldn't, though. It puts you in danger. I'm sorry. That's… damned stupid of me, Sloan. I am sorry." She lightly squeezes his arm.
Shaking his head, Sloan chuckles mirthlessly. "Me ma used t'say I was born backwards and fightin' to breathe an' I never stopped fightin' me Da was the same way ye see. Woulda taken more'n half the men in that bar to put me in real Danger lass."
Another light squeeze is given to his arm — is she feeling up the muscle?! Surely not. They're colleagues. Either way, she turns down her street and does not yet let go, her smile returned and confident as ever. "Well then, you're telling me I just can't catch the eye of HALF the bar at once? Simply one or two? I shall keep that in mind for next time." She winks at him teasingly, even as she comes to a stop outside of her elegant little townhouse. For a family, it'd be a bit small. For her all alone? It's practically ridiculous. Eddie turns on the ball of her foot, meeting him face to face. "…I… work in the morning…"
Years of working in a steel mill on top of his Auror's duties mean that Sloan while not overly muscled, has arms like banded steel. Rounded biceps that aren't exactly bulging, There's just no wasted weight to him and no bodyfat. Nodding slightly, Sloan looks up at the moon for a moment. "Ye should get yer sleep then Eddie. I've work tae be doing yet tonight an a shift at the mill in the morning. Ye're sure ye're feeling alright?"
The blonde cannot entirely hide her disappointment as he mentions that he still has work to be doing tonight. Eddie's also still not entirely let go of him. "I'm fine. I've been an Auror for fifteen years, Sloan… I'm tougher than that. But…" And, oddly enough, words catch in her throat. It's easy to say things when she doesn't really care, but caring changes things. She stares up at him, trying to figure out the exact words she wants to use. They simply aren't there. "I… I guess… good night. If… if you're up for breakfast, come 'round sometime… Yes? Least I can do…" Normally, she's more drunk this time of the night, when they are saying farewells. Normally it's jokes, flirtations that never go anywhere, and some eye rolling. This sobriety thing is suddenly, awkwardly overrated.
Nodding slightly, Sloan grunts. "What's on yer mind Eddie? Ye seem troubled."
"Nothing… Sloan. Nothing at all." Eddie lies, after a few silent heartbeats. She then reaches one hand up to press against his cheek and leans around so her lips press to the opposite cheek. She brushes a tender kiss there, far more gentle about it than her normal, wild self. "You're a good man, Sloan, don't let those dolts at the Ministry ever make you think otherwise."
Shaking his head softly, Sloan pats her on the shoulder taking a step back he grunts. "Nae lass. I'm not. Ye do the job because ye care. despite your family…ye do care about those less fortunate and it's a credit to ye. I does it because it's a job needs doing an I does it well. Like I said. Jes because the scum on the pond is a diff'rent color don't mean it ain't still scum. Rest well dove. Knocker and I has a job of it yet tonight." with that, he turns and heads back towards Cheapside, hands shoved in his pockets and keeping to shadows lest the local constable catch sight of hima nd start wondering what he's doing in this part of town. Over his shoulder, he adds. "Call Keenan sometime, aye? get the sod out of that blasted clinic of his and into a bottle somewhere. Boy could use some of your company."
Though her lips part to protest, he's taking off already, and it's not a debate to have tonight. Eddie just sighs, watching him go, her brows knit and expression more than a touch frustrated. "I'll send an owl…" She assures him, about Keenan, but he's half gone already. She just frowns. It seems this is a dance they've been through before, but it doesn't get any easier as time goes on. Maybe some night. When she's seen him turn the corner, she finally turns on the ball of her foot and treads up the stoop of her town house. A twitch of her wand at the lock and she's slipping inside to her safe luxury.