| Details for Taking Care of Business |
| Summary: | Keenan returns after escorting Graham and Sorcha to Mungo's, to discuss many kinds of business with his fiancee. |
| Date: | 17 August, 1939 |
| Location: | Keenan's Flat |
| Related: | Directly after Confused. |
| Characters |
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There's a flash from the fireplace and Keenan steps out, raising his wand to do a quick cleaning charm to eradicate the ash. He gives a sigh and looks around for his wife-to-be. On the whole he seems more composed and doesn't appear to need a drink as often happens after he goes downstairs at odd hours. It actually was a rather short trip, as well, and he gives a little grin when his eyes do light on the raven haired witch.
Veruca decided to do something useful while she waited for Keenan to return, so he'll find her on the sofa with papers on the coffee table in front of her. One paper is held in her hand, her attention on it until the flash draws blue eyes up to the newly arrived Healer. It gets set aside as well, as she says quietly, "Welcome back, love. Everything go well?"
Keenan leans down to press a kiss to the top of Veruca's head as he slides down onto the couch next to her. "Aye… mostly. It was Sorcha an' Graham. He'd been handed a charmed pin that exploded in his hand. From what I could glean o'their story, someone passed out pins in tha book shop, an' when he noticed they were dangerous, he tried teh magic one away from someone else as he threw his away." He leans back and stretches his arms along the back of the couch, moving out of the way of her work, but maintaining a close presence as he relaxes. "I took him teh Mungo's an' handed him over teh Artifact Accidents ward. Sorcha was insistin' he was confused… I wonder if he told her loves her."
Veruca leans forward as Keenan sits, gathering her papers into a pile and pushing them to the opposite end of the table from Keenan, so he can put his feet up. "Exploding pins? Why would anyone …. well, i suppose these days that's a silly question. Because everyone's gone mad lately." She sighs, settling against Keenan comfortably. "Will Graham be alright then?" The witch tries to ask with the seriousness befitting a measure of concern, but she can't help a smirk. "Which one of them is actually the confused one?" she muses lightly.
A smile carves dimples either side of Keenan's lips as Rue makes room for his feet. Pushing his shoes off, he props them up gratefully; wiggling his toes in the thick, Irish wool socks that he favors. "Aye, he'll be fine. An' I'm sure tha lad's always known how he feels about Sorcha," he replies to the musing with a chuckle. One hand reaches forward to stroke lightly at the nape of the witch's neck as she works, trying to pull a curl out of the smooth knot that binds it.
There's no protest at the light tug on her hair, although Veruca doesn't reach up to pull the main pin holding the knot together. He can work for it a little. "I stopped down to the shop to see your sister just the other day," she says, thoughtful now. "She's still unclear as to what the fate of the shop will be, and whether she needs to get on with her own life or uphold the family tradition of keeping the apothecary running." There's only a beat pause, before she ventures, "Has any progress been made toward sorting it out?"
Keenan lets out a sigh at her question, his fingers working their way towards the pin when his initial tugs are not pushed away. "I really… don't know, love. It was Niamh's love, an' her bailywick. I am a healer, an' Sorcha's a free spirit. It may be one of Seosiamh or Padraig's children shows the same love of potions, but that is bein' a long way off. Mum has offered teh help… sometimes I think the easy life o'retirement doesn't suit her all that well." He turns his head away, his other arm bending at the elbow so that he can pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "It's nay a decision teh be makin' hastily. Not teh mention we'd need teh find another place teh live." He adds the last with a little grin as he manages to release her hair and tangle some of it around his fingers.
Veruca tilts her head, perhaps making Keenan's reach just a little easier. "What about Gideon?" she asks, voicing the thing she was most hesitant about. "They were man and wife, and their property combined. I don't suppose he'd withhold the business from the family, he has his own after all, but in all fairness he must be considered and even consulted. It wouldn't do for the family to be cold to him, he's suffered a great loss as well."
"I have nae intention o'bein' cold teh tha man," Keenan replies mildly. "But Gideon an' I have never been close. As it is not likely he will weclome my attention or companionship, I'll nae push myself on him. If he has any ideas on tha shop, o'course they shall be taken into account." The finger and thumb at his nose shift to spread his fingers across his forehead, rubbing for a moment, before they push back through his hair. His arm once more along the back of the couch, he leans his head back and directs an exhale towards the ceiling.
There's a nod to Keenan's words. "I went over the books thoroughly, Niamh was meticulous about the accounts. There is enough to keep afloat for now, but it would be best if the shop reopened sooner, rather than later, if reopening is what's to be done." She shifts, turning to pull one let onto the couch so she's facing Keenan more directly. Her hand comes up to slowly smooth the lines from the Healer's forehead, touch warm and light.
Lifting his head towards the touch, without opening his eyes, Keenan nods slightly. "Aye, if Sorcha's ready tae open… in fact, it might be best teh open, getting back teh normal is part o'tha healin'." His hand slides from the nape of Rue's neck to curl around her shoulders and pull her towards him. "I am sure Miss Summerbee will be happy tae get back teh work. Poor girl, just barely graduated Hogwarts, an' she's probably goin' teh have more responsibility than she expected." There's a couple of breaths. "Are ye sure that keepin' tha books until we figure out what teh do isna goin' teh interfere with yer business?"
With another slight twist, Veruca is comfortable in the circle of Keenan's arm, her head rested back against his shoulder. "I'm very sure that it won't interfere with anything, love. Compared to some businesses, the apothecary is child's play. Money in, money out. It's self sustaining, but not horribly profitable." Hence it never having made the family rich, but it's been a solid venture for all these years.
His chin comes to rest on top of her head and there's a soft smile. "Thank ye, love." He draws in a breath through his teeth. "There's another bit o'business we need teh get back teh as well."
Veruca doesn't move, comfortable exactly where she is, but her eyes roll to unsuccessfully get a look at Keenan's face. "What business is that, Keenan?" she asks. She would suppose it's the same bit o'business she discussed with Sorcha briefly, but right now, lord only knows what new spanner could be thrown into the works.
"That would be tha business o'us, m'fhiorghra," he replies with a grin. "I don' wish teh be disrespectful o'Niamh, or in any way lessen tha gravity o'her loss… but I am still itchin' teh make ye Mrs. O'Shea as soon as I can." His other hand reaches down to take her left hand, playing with the band that circles her finger.
"Ah yes, that business," Veruca says agreeably, her own lips curving in a smile that Keenan can't see but surely knows is there from her tone. "That is something we ought to make happen sooner rather than later. Did you have any thoughts on how we should go about that?"
"I thought it was tha bride's province teh plan tha wedding, with tha groom bein' an innocent bystander that goes where's told?" Keenan teases, the hand around her shoulders straying up towards her ear to play with her hair once more. "I'm afraid teh say that ye're husband teh be has not spent a lot o'time socializin' in tha upper crust o'wizardin' society. I canneh think o'many who I would invite that would be expectin' a grand, posh teh do." He pauses, and then lifts his head to look down to her. "Are ye sure we cannae convince any o'yer family teh attend? Endira seemed teh like me."
There's a smirk on Veruca's lips. "If it were entirely up to me and me alone, we would run away for a long weekend and come back married." She pauses, thoughtful, before allowing, "I suppose Endira might. We haven't had much occasion to speak at length since I've returned."
"Ahhhhh, don' tempt me, lass," Keenan groans. "I would love nothin' more, but me Da would never forgive me. He's quite a religious man… a proper marriage is important teh him." The ginger head leans back once more as he considers. "There is a nice little chapel near tha cottage in Cornwall," he muses. "We can fit tha family in, an' a few guests quite comfortably."
Veruca sighs, "I know, he would have kittens. But something small." She nods at Keenan's suggestion, "I think that would be the best. Still small, but appropriate for the family. And a time of celebration would be good for everyone."
"Ehrin's always wanted a kitten," Keenan murmurs with a slight grin. His eyes shift to look down for hers. "Ye're sure a small weddin' in a muggle church is goin' teh be all right? Ye're right on that score… a little happiness would neh go amiss." The hand that had been playing with her ring gives a little tug to her fingers, urging her to face him on his lap as he sets his feet back on the floor and pushes back a little so he's sitting properly, rather than lounging.
Veruca shifts with the gentle urging, settling in Keenan's lap comfortably, her eyes catching and holding his. "I'm sure that it'll be wonderful. Anything would as long as the day ends with you as my husband." Her head tilts slightly as she asks the obvious question they've not yet posed. "And when? How soon can we arrange this?"
Now that he has her where he wants her, Keenan's arms wrap loosely around Veruca's waist. "However soon ye can arrange it, love," he replies with that quiet, firm, voice that he uses when he's made up his mind and won't be swayed. "I know that there is some plannin' that needs teh be done, even for a small wedding, an' I'll help however I can."
There's a nod, decisive as Veruca is about most things. "I will start things in motion, then. The sooner the better." She leans forward, dropping a kiss onto the ginger's nose. "Of course you'll help. Don't imagine for a moment that I'd let you miss out on all the fun."
Keenan chuckles as she kisses his nose and lifts his lips to hers before they can draw too far away from his nose. "Hmmmm… usually when my sisters tell me they're wantin’ teh share tha fun, it is decidedly not somethin' I would list in ma fun category." He grins and slides his hands up her back, pulling her closer.
It is an exceedingly rare occasion that Veruca might pull away from Keenan, but this time she does just that. Not far, mind, but still pulls away. "Love, before we get… too comfortable," she says gently but pointedly, "There's a matter that's been on my mind. It has been since you let me in on the little matter of your extracurricular activities."
Pausing, Keenan tilts his head sideways as he slides his hands back down, resting them on either side of her waist. His gaze locks directly to hers, intensely aware and focused. He doesn't say anything, but waits for her to continue her thought.
"What protections do you have on that room?" Veruca asks candidly. "Moreso, what protections do you have on yourself? There are those in our community who would go to some lengths to avail themselves of information that could be used against you." A brow lifts as she notes, "You've not mentioned a skill in Occlumency… which seems like a prudent measure to take."
"I am now the only secret keeper," Keenan replies in the first part of the question, his brows drawing together for moment at that mention, and they shift to remain knitted with a tinge of incomprehension of where she's going in the first part of the conversation. "I never thought of it. Why would one want teh look in ma mind teh see if maybe I'm hidin' a secret room somewhere? Wouldn't one have teh suspect somethin' teh try searchin' around?"
Veruca shifts on Keenan's lap, her eyes holding his. "These are troubled times, and it's not unlikely they will be more so. Someone might just try prying into your mind to find anything they can. It would be in your own best interest to be able to stop that from happening." Her brows lift. "What would it hurt? Aside from the room, there are many things that someone might want to poke around in your mind about. Information about patients, for one."
For a long moment, Keenan meets Veruca's eyes, then he leans forward, his lips pressing to hers. He rests forehead to forehead as his eyes close. "Ye're right," he says quietly. "Even with all that's gone on, I've been tryin' teh believe that there are still some lines that people wouldn't cross." He sighs as his arms go around her once more, holding onto her. "Truth is, we're all losin' our grip on what is goin' teh far. Muggles and wizards alike. Nothin' is sacred."
The dark haired witch relaxes into the kiss, knowing that it signals Keenan's understanding of the point she's making. "You have a good heart, my love," she says quietly, her words a warm breath against his skin. "But there are few like you these days. I fear things will get much darker before the light breaks through again. There won't even be a muggle world to escape into, the way their talk of war is progressing." She doesn't feel it necessary to point out the recent attacks on Diagon, the results of one ending up in his care this very night.