(1937-12-15) Un Poisson Rouge
Details for Un Poisson Rouge
Summary: Looking to reclaim her puppy from the dog sitter, Cooper apologizes for her slip of tongue just moments before.
Date: December 15, 1937
Location: Watershed
Related: Takes place right after Schlafzimmer-Technik

Watershed London
Sat Dec 15, 1937 ((Sat Nov 17 07:51:21 2012)) (C,3 NW)

Designed by famed architect Edwin Lutyens, this home is a newer addition to the Mayfair neighborhood. The estate is surrounded by a tall, circular iron-wrought fence. The arched gate bears an embossed title: 'WATERSHED'. Just inside the gate, past a scant few feet of grassy lawn, is a huge circular pool that takes up almost the entirety of the property. The pool is quite deep, and its rocky bottom can only be seen because of soft lights under the surface of the water. Lily-pads float here and there, flowering in the warmer months. Rising out of the center of the body of water is a stone tower, its color a pale grey that is almost (but not quite) white. It looms three stories above the surface of the pool. At its top is a glass dome with a small spire pointing accusingly up at the sky. A raised walkway connects the tower to the gate and allows entry to the structure through a set of heavy brass doors.
Inside, the decor is modern and the atmosphere surprisingly airy for a stone building. The bottom story contains a dining room, kitchen, and sitting area (as well as a small smoking parlor); the second a library with bookcases lining the circular walls; the third a bedroom and study with an open view of the sky, thanks to the glass dome. While the downstairs areas have been arranged for the entertainment of guests, the upper floors are normally kept locked, and those with any magical prowess will likely notice that the place is buzzing with security charms.

The journey back to Watershed was surrounded with just as much tension as there was in the Cafe. And for a long while, Cooper does not speak to Magnus nor acknowledge his irritation on the way out. Instead, she's merely trying to deal with her own embarrassment and contain the red on the cheeks which she tries best to obscure through thick glasses and tilting her head low on her face. In fact it's only when they pass the gate and enter the grounds that she grumbles, "I'm sorry. I didn't bloody know she spoke German." Her hands are stuffed into her pockets to protect them from the biting cold, her breath manifesting into visible puffs in the night air. Her rough apology mixed with the way she slightly stomps her feet as she walks, gives one the impression that she too is annoyed and angry, but at whom and why is unclear.

Once the men at the gate swing it shut and the pair are off across the narrow walkway towards the tower, Magnus moves a step ahead of Cooper. The man doesn't respond to her apology at first, aside from stiffening slightly when he reaches the heavy brass door. After he mumbles a few incantations to unlock it, he reaches forward to swing it open, and only then does his gaze land on the auror. Suddenly he turns to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him; he doesn't seem to have any regard for the fact that he's letting all of the nice, warm air from inside outdoors. "Forgiven," he says simply, then leans down to kiss the woman on the cheek before he paces inside and disappears down the entry hall into the kitchen. "Close the door after yourself!"

Cooper follows a step behind, assuming he wasn't acknowledging her sentiment of regret, but also half-caring if he forgave her. But his sudden turn around catches her off-guard and she without evening thinking she goes with it, getting pulled in closer and freezing in place when he pardons her and gives her a peck on the cheek. What the hell? Confusion contorts her face and her mouth opens to say something, but he moves on forward again before she can get it out. "Wait. What? Why?" she calls down the hall after him, moving immediately forward to follow except she pauses, lets out a 'dammit' and turns around to close the front door as she's instructed. Lagging a bit more behind now, Cooper quickens her pace to follow him into the kitchen. "You were cross with me just a second ago…"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Miss Cooper," Magnus calls out, though he's already far enough down the hall for his voice to be faint by the time he responds to the woman. By the time she arrives in the kitchen there's an insane clattering-scratching sound approaching her… the sound of claws on hard-tiled floor. Since the auror has been quarantined for the better part of a month, her puppy has grown quite a bit in the interval… it's not a good deal closer to being the lanky, gangly creature that it will one day grow up to be. The gaunt man, meanwhile, has been busy preparing two glasses of scotch after letting the dog out. He stands by a counter and observes the creature hopping up and down insanely on its owner for several seconds, raising his glass to his lips and taking a sip before he sniggers. "Well, I decided letting the mutt out would constitute an appropriate measure of revenge."

Cooper's foot steps can be heard just outside the door way when she says, "Magnus, that doesn't answer my question." But she stops short upon entering the kitchen when she's suddenly bombarded by the wonderful excitement of her not so puppy. She gasps and immediately falls to her knees to greet the mutt, enthusiastically rubbing behind its ears and pulling it in for a hug while her bright grin returns to her face. "Oh my little Maggot! Look at you! Look how ugly you've gotten since last saw you! Just more and more like your namesake everyday! I missed you so much my adorable ickle thing! You're not a puppy anymore!" she baby talks to it enthusiastically. "I know I'm so sorry I had to leave you with this terrible, creepy man." Cooper holds the Saluki close rubbing the short coat on his back while pouting over at Magnus. "Have you been feeding him or are they supposed to look this malnourished as they get older?" Stupid owner, isn't even sure about how her dog is supposed to look like.

"What question, madamoiselle? You mean, you're wondering why I'm not still furious at you for embarrassing me in front of my assistant, despite the fact that you were so very worried about anyone in /your/ department finding out about us not so long ago?" Magnus allows a thin smile to curl its way on to his lips, and he slowly closes the distance between himself and the dog-beleaguered woman with a glass of scotch in either hand. "Perhaps you'd have preferred being pushed in front of a Muggle automobile?" The smile grows brilliant and artificially friendly, clearly a mockery of the expression, and he holds out one of the glasses to the auror with a scoff. Afterwards, he even looks mildly amused at the antics between the Saluki and its owner. "I've been feeding it more than enough. That wretched animal never gains weight no matter how much it eats."

With just a bit of a struggle, Cooper scoops Maggot up into her arms like a baby. The dog may be halfway through puppyhood, but she will savor whatever time she has left of it. And being the chill, sleepy-eyed dog he is, Maggot goes with it wagging his tail back and forth happily. "Oh so you were furious, then," she takes the scotch glass gratefully with her free hand. "And if you put it that way, I'm surprised you were even angry at all. As I recall, you weren't ashamed to let everyone on that street corner - many of whom were ministry folk - know that we were fucking." She takes a grimaced sip of the scotch. Stuff tastes terrible. "Rather hypocritical of you to be angry with me if I did the same in front of your assistant." Inspecting the dog though she lifts up its limbs for an inspection and with a smirk, she comments, "Sounds like someone I know. Would you like to hold him one last time then before I take him out of your life forever." Cooper offer the dog for Magnus to carry if he's feeling bold enough.

"I was rather peeved," Magnus responds coolly, watching as the auror grimaces at the taste of the scotch. He frowns disapprovingly and stalks back towards the cupboards, grabs a bottle of vodka and a new glass, and pours some of that instead. He drains his own glass of scotch in a single gulp and puts the empty vessel down, then walks back to the woman and holds the clear liquid out. "I was really hoping to instill some tastefulness in you, Genevieve, but it seems you're hopeless. Trade me." He ignores the accusations of hypocrisy - probably in part because they're true - and eyes the long-eared dog with a look that's mostly disdain… and perhaps a very, very faint hint of affection. "No, he'll get fur all over my suit. Besides, it's not as if I never expect to see him rampaging idiotically around your flat again."

Still she'll try to give it another go, only to result in a repeat offense, this time gagging a little at the second swallow. "Peeved sound like a rather awkward adjective when it applies to you. In fact, I can't picture you being 'peeved' at anything," Cooper quirks a brow, but she could be doing it in disgust after watching him down the scotch in one go. "That's repulsive. I really can't down the stuff, but thank you." Gratefully and slides her glass over to him and instead takes up the vodka. A bit more tolerable. Maggot still remains happily in the woman's arms as she rocks slightly back and forth in a dance like she were soothing a baby. "Your loss then," she remarks and making kissy faces at the not-so-pup she prods further, even if he chooses to ignore her statement, "I was rather 'peeved' at you as well that day with the truck because I care of what those people thought of me. Even if you didn't. Even if you don't care what majority of folks think of you." And then she glances briefly up at Magnus, corners of her eyes pinching into a subtle smirk, "You must hold value Miss Diderot's opinion then."

The ambassador smirks at the auror's objection to his use of the adjective, though he doesn't answer her immediately; instead, continues listening after he trades glasses with her. After a few small nips of the scotch, he raises a finger and runs it along his jaw thoughtfully. "Well, my intention wasn't to offend /them/. Just you. So I do apologize for my indiscretion." Magnus grins, takes another drink of scotch, and then reaches out to pat the dog on the head once or twice, though he makes it look as if he has absolutely no desire to do so. "Miss Diderot saved my life, when we were in Germany. She stepped in the way of a curse that was meant to kill me." His pale eyes flit away towards a window and he stares off for a few second, then looks back at Cooper and allows his gaze to travel up and down her dowdily-dressed form with a wry smile. "Jealous, Miss Cooper? I still have a soft spot for feisty blondes."

"Well I suppose you achieved what you set out to then," Cooper gives him a dry frown before partaking in her own vodka. Ahh, much more tolerable. Maggot however, wags his tail even more vigorously at the gaunt man's awkward touch, yawning even but still so happy that he goes out and licks the hand that fed him for about a month. To show the magnitude of his love, he leaves no part of the hand dry. Instead it's a slobbery mess when he's through with it. Though Cooper would love to revel in the dog-man interaction, her frown only deepens when Magnus discloses that information, brows furrowing rather deeply. Meanwhile, her jaw slackens slightly in disbelief. After taking a minute to let that settle, she shakes her head slowly and replies, "No. Not jealous at all. I've been hit with those curses before. They're not joke. They're not something that gets easier after the first time." It's rather grim and no nonsense the way she goes about saying it. "A mild little mouse like her … how the hell did she live through that?" Cooper licks her lips with interest at the story.

"I—" Magnus starts - but withdraws his hand quite quickly once it's covered in dog saliva. His lips curl down in disgust, and he shakes his hand off with a curse, then walks over to the sink so he can wipe it off on a hand towel. "As far as I know, primarily through the intervention of very skilled healers. The curse has residual effects - it was meant to be something of a guarantee that an old fossil like me couldn't survive it for much longer." He finishes cleaning his hand off, then takes a healthy sip of scotch and eyes the puppy balefully. "How was the rest of your hospital stay? I'm amazed all of the healing staff assigned to you survived the ordeal." Smirking, he steps around her to make his way out of the kitchen and back towards the sitting room.

The corners of Cooper's mouth crinkle into a frown as she broods over the nasty effects that curse must of had over that poor girl. Some more vodka is imbibed as she does so. "Huh, well … I feel rather guilty for the initial suspicion I had in my head then of the two of you. Thought perhaps you two were intimate," she smirks sheepishly, "Of course, I imagined you as the predator. You'd overwhelm that poor little thing. She had an interesting way of looking at me. Its strange. Like she was not just looking at me but observing me too. Her eyes seem full of thoughts only you can't really tell what they are. I just know that I got that weird tickle I always get on the back of my neck, like I was being watched." She waves a hand casually over the neck to indicate where she get it. And placing the now fussy Maggot on the floor, Cooper takes up her glass and follows him to the sitting room. With a snicker, she grins brightly at his inquiry and nods, "Yes, well let's just say they were glad to see me go, and it was a mutual feeling. Only, I've been prescribed some potions for further recovery and they've given me a limited supply. Do you know any skilled apothecaries?"

Though he maintains an expression of bored bemusement, there's a brief flash of irritation in Magnus's cool grey eyes. He takes a long sip of his whiskey and then sits on the plush sofa. "That's an interesting kind of suspicion to voice to me, Miss Cooper. What happened to 'no strings'?" Despite the acidity of the question, he clearly isn't being very serious, and his lips twist up in a playful smirk as he folds one leg over the other and pats the cushion at his side, inviting the woman to join him. "Miss Diderot isn't my type. I prefer more lively prey." He tilts his head to one side at her inquiry about the potions, and one of his dark brows inches up. "You have a closet full of bizarre appearance-morphing potions, and you're asking me to reccommend an apothecary to you?" The man snickers, although he's watching her more intently now. "Try Melania Black. I stopped in there not a week ago. She runs a very tidy business."

Cooper chuckles at the sight of the annoyed furrow in his brow and lounges herself upon the cushiony seat he offers her. "I'm allowed to speculate, am I not? That's hardly restraining you with any strings," she gives her bright teasing smile as she sets down her drink to wriggle out of her jacket which she throws to the side with her cloche hat. Of course she withdraws her pack of cigarettes before then, slipping one out for herself before offering Magnus one. Not vanilla, but it will do. Cooper watches his denial carefully though, blue eyes scanning him before she determines, "She may not be your type, but she saved your life. That tends to weigh heavily on anyone. Even you apparently." In others words: she doesn't believe him one bit. But she doesn't seem to mind either, for her lip twitches into a knowing smirk, like a detective who's pleased to have solved a mystery more than anything.

"That stuff's for work so they give it to me. And while the ministry covers my medical needs, I'm on my own when it comes to getting medication." The blonde auror bends over a table lighter to start up a couple puffs before she scrunches her nose in disdain. "I'm not fond of the Black family," she says plainly and leaves no room for argument. But then thinks a moment while scratching her chin, "There's that one in Diagon Alley, been there for years. MacDiamarda Apothecary, are they any good?"

"Allowed to be nosy, you mean? As long as you don't mind me ignoring you to the best of my abilities, no." Magnus smiles at her and finishes off his scotch, then leans back on the sofa and kicks his legs up on the coffee table. He eyes the dog as it wanders around the room, ready to spring up and detain it at the first sign that it's found something interesting to chew on. At any rate, he doesn't attempt to deny the woman's observation, even if he does roll his pale eyes a bit as a result of the 'even you'. When she goes on about potions and apothecaries, he listens with what appears to be bored disinterest, twirling the empty glass deftly in his fingers as he goes on, "Well, they could be worth a try, though I've given you my advice. Anything else I can help you find? Groceries? Pet supplies? Clothing?" The gaunt man smiles thinly and puts a hand on the auror's thigh, and allows it move up and down slowly. "Perhaps some scanty undergarments? With the way you dress, it'd be a pleasant shock to find those dowdy rags hiding all of the interesting stuff…"

"Very well, O Wise One. I shall follow your sage advice to the best of my ability," Magnus drawls, rolling his eyes again. He'd snatched the offered cigarette from her hand earlier, although he'd simply let it drift down to his side afterwards without making any motion to light it. He's distracted, currently. When she mentions MacDiamarda's again, he shrugs noncommittally. "I've been nearly everywhere in Diagon at one point or another. I recall that it was small and dingy. Nothing like Black's. Why?" He pins his icy gaze on the auror's and leans a bit closer to her as she moves closer to him, pausing so that he can take a long drag on the cigarette. He tilts his head up so that when he exhales he doesn't blow the smoke directly in Cooper's face, then glances back down and casually squeezes her thigh. "No? I suppose not. Though you can't blame me for being more interested in getting you out of them."

Cooper draws her cigarette back, lounging about in her seat once more. "Damn right you will," she mutters, disregarding the sarcasm of his reply before holding it up her lips for a deep drag. Leaning against her arm on the couch she hmmms aimlessly looking off to the side. "Small and dingy? I heard it was a fairly successful. It's surprising to hear that description, but then again you also think my dog is small and dingy. " she smirks. "I'm also just picky of who makes my potions that's all. Trying to get a feel for the quality and the maker's specialty. What were you there for?" She inhales and sighs deeply though upon the squeeze of her leg. That move is enough to elicit a brief glance down at his hand before peering back up at his gaze. "Oh no, I don't blame you at all. I suppose I tend to elicit that sort of interest." Cooper gives a mockingly haughty laugh before joking, "How do you know it's not still purple down there?"

"I think your dog is small and /stinky/," Magnus corrects, though he's starting to look mildly exasperated at his failed attempts to change the subject from apothecaries and potions. He grimaces and gets to his feet, taking his hands off of the woman's leg in the process, and rubs out a few imaginary wrinkles in his suit before snatching his empty glass off of the table. "I don't remember, frankly. It must not have been a particularly memorable experience. I think I'll go make us some new drinks. I'm in the mood for something exotic, Genevieve." His pale eyes have suddenly clouded over with a thoughtful expression; he navigates his way around the coffee table and takes a few steps towards the kitchen, but pauses at the auror's jibe, then laughs harshly. "Now /that/ would be something to see."

Cooper bursts out laughing when he corrects her, a thick cloud of smoke rising forth from her lungs - the roughness of which makes her follow up with a couple coughs into the crook of her arm. But she continues laughing nevertheless. "My word, I never thought I'd hear that word come out of your mouth. It's almost a bit like 'peeved'," she grins, settling back into the seat. Still, it doesn't mean the auror didn't catch his grimaces and irritated glances. Cooper watches the back of his head as he goes, a muted look of disappointment in her eyes and the way she half frowns. Still, she'll not let up her light hearted facade and with the aid of more alcohol, that shouldn't be too difficult. The rest of the vodka is downed easily at the warning of a more fun refreshment. "Mm,, believe me when I say that it is not something anyone should see," she says, putting the glass down and choosing instead to lounge on the entirety of the couch now that Magnus is gone. "However, you are welcome to check." She smirks. "Or I can Cyril Malfoy check for you, and have him tell you what he finds." Wait, what did she just say?

"Well, I did name him 'Puant'. Which he quite liked, by the way," Magnus responds with a soft chuckle. He tosses a look back over his shoulder from where he's paused at the entrance to the kitchen, studying the woman carefully, his pale eyes still thoughtful… but also slightly wary. "Well, I rather /like/ the color purple… although I'm not certain about the pus and swelling. I—-" The ambassador turns halfway around at the name-drop, and cocks his head to one side. There's a look of earnest confusion on his face. "Cyril Malfoy? You're having a fling with that one? He struck me as rather brutish. I never would have guessed he was your type."

Little Maggot, who has been also lazily lying down in the corner of the room, pops his head up and barks in reaction to the name. And thinking that Magnus is calling him, he gets up on his legs and trots over to the man barking and mewing at the hem of one of his pant legs, tail wagging happily to see the man who is so repulsed by him. "Well, I'm not having a fling with that one, no," Cooper shakes her head, fingers laced together behind it while the cigarette sticks upward in her mouth. "But Edwarlinda told me he was apparently interested. Told her, if he wants to ask me out he needs to come and do it himself." There a scrunch of her nose when she says that and then turns her head to Magnus, "You're rather right, I'd say. He really isn't my type. But I figure, I never do anything fun. Why the hell not? I don't know. What do you think?" The question comes out with the same tone a woman would ask her best gal pal when seeking advice. What the hay, they're already having exotic drinks together right? They might as well be gal pals.

The dog is given a disapproving look, although there's a tiny bit of an upwards-tick of one corner of Magnus's lips as he shoos the enthusiastic animal away. He considers the auror's words concerning the other man and raises his shoulders in a very light shrug, then laughs softly and finally makes his way into the kitchen, raising his voice so that it's audible from the other room. "I don't think I particularly care one way or another, Miss Cooper. Give it a try. Let me know how he rates, perhaps if he's especially gifted I'll do the same. I like a little variety." She might not be able to see his wicked smile, but it probably carries through in his voice. A series of clinks and the sound of stoppers being pulled out of bottles emerges from the kitchen. "Actually, I've just remembered more about that ratty little apothecary," he calls out, his voice casual. "The woman who ran the place was rather rude." After a few more moments, there's a clink of ice, and the man stalks back into the sitting room carrying a drink in each hand. They're colorful, red and yellow. They /look/ sweet. He doesn't offer one yet, though.

Maggot does not get the shooing. In fact, it looks like the man is giving him air kissies with the way he puckers his lips like that. That he understands. Cooper likes to give him air kissies too, and so his tail waggles even happier and he simply paws with even more affection at Magnus' leg. Even when the drinks are done, the grown puppy circles around him as he walks back to the sitting room. "That's wonderful, but I'm not asking you if you care. I'm asking if you think it's a smart move. Cassius Malfoy is not exactly my favorite public figure, and I'm not to keen on getting pulled into any regarding that family." There's a bit of venom in those words, and Cooper puts out the butt of her cigarette only to pull out another. "Oh? How was she rude?" the blonde quirks her brow and lights up once more. Though her attention is easily usurped by the bright colored liquids, and with her jaw slightly gaping as her eyes follow the glasses she asks, "Ooo….what is that?"

Magnus eyes the frolicking puppy with a twitch of one brow. Just before he leaves the kitchen, he grabs a bottle of bourbon and pours a fair bit into the dog's dish with a thin smile. "There you go. /That/ ought to calm you down a bit," he says. Of course, this is before he gets to the sitting room, so Cooper doesn't see the immediate results. Once he's in front of the auror, he smirks. "I doubt the two of them have vastly differing political views. So, stay away from him." Carefully, he sits back down - this time on an armchair, since Cooper's taking up most of the sofa - and slides the drink on his left towards her. He doesn't have any of his own yet, but takes a moment to light up the cigarette she'd given him earlier. "A little something I learned to make in France. You'll like it, I think." He leans back, exhales smoke, and taps the ashes into a tray on the table. "Anyhow, I just recall that she was rude. I believe we had a bit of a scuffle." He waits, takes another draw while he watches the woman's face carefully, then smiles. "…a verbal scuffle, I mean."

Waggling his tale happily, Maggot barks gratefully for the drink Magnus has poured him and once the man has left he excitedly gets to it. There's a pause after one lap at his dish. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times as he gets used to the rough taste of the alcohol. But in the same fashion all dogs approach anything edible, Maggot goes back at it again with equal enthusiasm. Not exactly his cup of tea, but animals don't complain much over what they're fed.

Meanwhile Cooper has decided to sit up in her chair then, eyeing the drinks with interest in the same manner her dumb puppy peered at the bourbon. "Of course it would be French. What's it called?" she asks taking a drag and turning her head to the side to expel the smoke elsewhere. The glass it plucked out of Magnus' hand and she pats the seat next to her to allow him to sit. She then takes a gratuitous sip of the drink followed by an approving nod, "Mmm, this is delicious. Thank you very much. It's got an odd sort of tang to it, but the after taste is nice." Taking another sip, she inquires further about the lady apothecary, "Well a verbal scuffle over what?"

"It's called a 'Goldfish.' Or 'Un Poisson Rogue', if you want to use the proper term. I'm glad you like it," Magnus drawls, smoke curling from between his lips. He eyes the seat next to Cooper when she pats it, and after sliding his own drink over to the other side of the table, gets up and sits down next to her. He casually wraps an arm around her shoulders, his pale eyes half-lidded as he speaks. "Can't recall. Something unimportant, I'm sure," he says slowly, a thin smile forming on his lips. He glances over at her and then reaches into his pocket for his wand. He gives it a slight tick, and the haunting sound of a cello concerto begins to waft out of the nearby smoking parlor from the phonograph. "Did someone mention something about the place to you recently? You seem quite eager to find out more about it."

"Un Poisson Rouge," Cooper murmurs the words after him, holding the glass in front of her to take in the reddish-yellow hue of the drink. The lids of her eyes lower a bit in a hazy sort of manner. "Hmm, rather strong for a pretty little thing, isn't it," she says, attributing the slight buzz she's building to the various liquors she's indulged in this evening. I guess a month off of booze lightens you a little, or that's what Cooper thinks. It's the sudden boom in the crescendo of the song at catches her attention though. "Oh I see," she clears her throat, leaning languidly against him not seeming to have that curious push behind her words as before. "Hmmm? Oh just the healers at Mungo's recommended that place to me for my medication. I'm just interested in the quality of her work. What potion were you buying from her anyway?" She blinks once or twice at the far wall.

"That's how I prefer them." Smirking, Magnus takes a long drag on the cigarette until it's nearly down to the filter, then snuffs it out in the ashtray and reaches for his own drink. He takes a few tentative sips, then sits back and pulls the woman a bit closer as she leans into him. His pale eyes flit down to watch hers, and he smiles a bit when he notes her half-drowsy appearance - but nothing in her words alerts him to any unusual reasons for her questioning. "Hmm… I can't remember, precisely. It must not have been important," he says, then leans down to casually kiss her exposed neck. "I'd like you to know something, Genevieve."

Cooper snickers lightly, taking a couple more drinks from her cup. It's easy to down the liquor when it tastes this sweet. She's feeling rather heavy and weighed down further by the deep sounds of the concerto that she doesn't take note of him observing her. But she does quip with a half-smirk, "Rather forgetful, aren't you?" The irony of it is, she's somewhat forgotten what she even asked. And her brain doesn't seem to make any effort to try and remember, especially after feeling his warmth breath on her neck. Cooper inhales slowly before her eyes lower to look at him, "What's that?"

Magnus merely smiles with practiced charm at the question/accusation, takes another sip of his drink, and runs a set of his fingers through her hair. "Mmm," he mumbles, then kisses her neck again. He pauses so that he can look back at her when she responds to him. For a few seconds he simply watches those blue eyes. The suspicion in his gaze has fallen away, at least for now. "Well, I'm not the romantic type, Genevieve. And I quite like this little thing of ours… it made this rain-soaked bore of a city much more interesting," he says, his tone unusually sincere. "But if I /were/ that type… it would be you." He trails his fingers down her neck, over her chest, and then down to rest atop one of her hands. "Well, not that such things are my cup of tea. But I thought you might like the feather in your cap. And who knows, I may end up locked away for life, if this ridiculous hearing goes badly." The man's gaunt features form an impish grin, although the humor isn't reflected in his eyes.

The Auror closes her eyes briefly at the second nip at her neck, sighing and leaning into it without even thinking. Just reacting to his breathing and warming to the smoothness of his voice. She's indulging in it so much that Magnus is half way through his words before her eyes open again when she processes what he's just said. Unsure if she heard correctly when she turns her head to face him, following his hand when it eventually lands on top of hers. "Wh-," she begins to stay, freezing a moment to pause and think over the words. No prodding or fondling the man has done in the past has ever made her turn a hint of red. But for certain there's a hint of pink on those cheeks now. It's then when she looks up to meet his half-lidded gaze directly, her brow furrowed in confusion, "Why are you telling me this now? Everything should be fine, you clearly acted in self-defense. Is there something to be concerned over for this hearing?" Her tone, though watered down with great effort on her part, is filled with worry.

After draining the rest of his drink, Magnus sets the empty glass down. He offers an easy smile when he picks up the worried note in her voice. "Hm? Sorry, madamoiselle. You're right, of course. That was just a bad joke," he quips, then grins with considerably more enthusiasm than he had a moment before. In order to silence any further questioning (at least for the moment), he leans closer to her and kisses her, the arm he still has circled around her shoulders pulling her against him. Between the mildly spiked drink and the admission, it's probably about the least fair thing he could do at the moment, but he's never been particularly concerned with 'fair'. "Perhaps you should stay here tonight. My bed is far more comfortable than yours, and the drinks are free."

Cooper's mouth remains open, as if she wants to say something but isn't sure what. She's certainly lost in a sea of confusion, eyes blinking as she forgets certain details but remembers others. Not to mention she's been thrashed about in a roller coster of different emotions and reactions within the last few minutes and yet she's still in a potion-induced haze. So no. Magnus is not being fair whatsoever, but he does manage to at least ground her with the decisive kiss, bringing her back down to the situation in front of her. That it was she and him alone and comfortable. Why was she even worrying a second ago, again? "Uhm, okay," she blinks drowsily and with a smile of resignation to his charms, she leans in closer against him, "Just let me borrow some cloths, hmm?"

And when the two have gone off to retire, Maggot will have spent a good deal of time drunkenly stumbling about his own feet until he decides to park himself on a couch. After lounging for an hour, the spins will finally get to him and he'll vomit before passing out.

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