Dillan Wentworth strolled into Christie’s Jewels for Discerning Witches and Wizards, however it was with a distinctly Wendell-like grin that he greeted his friend. He had finally accomplished the seemingly impossible. He was going on a date with Sofia Robards, one of the ever-coveted Brunette Hotties that inhabited the Magical Law Enforcement offices. Alright, so maybe it wasn’t a “date” in the traditional sense of the word. In fact, it was more like he had skipped right over the date and was jumping straight to the meeting the parents stage. It wasn’t exactly the way he had imagined things going, but nevertheless he had been invited to spend an afternoon in her company and that was close enough. It was time for Jasper to pay up. They had a long-standing bet as to whether Wendell would ever manage to get a date with a BHLer. And every six months without fail Wendell had previously lost the bet, and had been forced to fork over five galleons. It was a bi-annual ritual that usually left him grumpy and without money to spend at the Leaky. But not today!

Jasper happily did not have any customers when he entered. So he was free to gloat openly.

“Afternoon, Jas! I hope business has been treating you well today. Because I’m here to collect on a wager we made a while back.”

He leaned against the shiny glass counter, surveying the jewels beneath as though contemplating which one would suffice as payment (considering they were all probably fake the lot of them probably weren't actually worth five galleons).

"Five galleons mate, pay up. I've got a date with a BHLer!"

Jasper looked up with a start when the bell above his shop door chimed. He had been staring at some newly transfigured rubies in the case under his elbows and wondering when it would be time to shuffle off to dinner. Shuffle because he'd been at a Dirty Pretty Things gig last night and some bloody massive bloke next to him had spent the better part of Deadwood and Gin & Milk stomping on his foot obliviously until Jasper had subtly jabbed him in the side with his wand. Said foot dangled from his chair, throbbing vaguely, as Batman entered the shop.

--right, still Wendell. Dillan. Whatever.

Thankfully the shop was empty, so no one noticed that an international celebrity was hitting Jasper up for a fiver.

"Five galleons mate, pay up. I've got a date with a BHLer!"

Jasper looked at his friend skeptically. Wendell had been trying to get a date with a member of the BHL since somewhere near the middle of the Cretaceous Era, an endeavor which had proved rather lucrative for Jasper, but remarkably futile for his friend. Maybe the Bale disguise was paying off, but Jasper still had his suspicions.

"Ballantine calling you into her office to talk about the budget for the holiday party doesn't count as a date, Wen." He dug into his pocket, coming up with the Aston Martin's keys, an indiscriminate wad of muggle and wizarding money, and several of those candies that Pinkie Pie liked that were shaped like flying saucers. He sorted out five galleons and extended his palm to his friend.

"However, I'm not one to shirk my debts, especially when you've kindly provided me with something like 145 galleons over this issue." He clinked the coins in his hand. "Details, and I'll pay up."

He cringed a bit at the amount that he had lost over the years. He ought to have made some sort of repayment stipulation in the original details of the bet.

“Alright, so you remember that bloody boring pureblood party with the good champagne? Well I was wandering around dodging this crazy old woman and her ugly daughter all night. Then I spotted Sofia Robards being waylaid by that Ferox fellow. Have you ever met him? Sort of creepy looking fellow, used to be really dirty, always looking for Class A non tradable potions. Anyway the point is I walked over and we were talking for a bit, when that old lady caught up with me again. At any rate Sofia came up with this story about having tea with her mother or something. I didn't quite get that part actually..." He trailed off momentarily looking slightly confused.

"At any rate, by the end of it she had asked me to have tea at her place. And even though technically her family will be there, it still meets the basic requirements of the bet. In fact, I should probably get double because she asked me this time!"

With a triumphant grin, he held out his hand for the money that he had worked for so many years to earn. It was admittedly not nearly as much as he had lost, but it was worth it. He had bragging rights for all eternity.

Jasper listened to Wendell's story with rising interest, since he'd been at said party and had no idea any of this had occurred. Actually his memory of the entire evening was hazy outside the insinuations Cal had later made about an interesting conversation he'd had with the Robards woman. By "interesting" Jasper meant "vaguely disturbing." Wendell had apparently noticed the styling he'd been doing on Cal though, or at least noticed that he didn't have smudges of chemicals all over his face anymore. Mentally patting himself on the back for his fashion achievements, he let Wendell conclude, looking triumphant.

At any rate, by the end of it she had asked me to have tea at her place. And even though technically her family will be there, it still meets the basic requirements of the bet.

Jasper gaped a bit as Wendell reported the circumstances of his imminent demise cheerily. Apparently he hadn't heard much about the Robards family, or the fact that they were rich and snobby and utterly mad. Jasper suspected he wasn't exactly up to par on the latest and finest points of teatime manners. Poor bloke. He was going to be skewered with a sugar spoon before he could say "cucumber sandwich."

In fact, I should probably get double because she asked me this time!

Jasper dug back into his pocket and located another few galleons, dropping the whole lot into Wendell's expectant palm.

"Here, go buy yourself a good drink. Make sure it's one you really like, because it's the last one you're ever going to have if you are going to a formal tea with the Robards family. And I'm assuming it's a formal tea because I can't picture them having any other kind."

Jasper stared at him in amazement, clearly impressed by Wendell's stroke of good fortune. The feeling sporting about his loss decided to appease Wendell by forking over double the agreed upon amount, which Wendell found quite surprising. Usually, he would put up more of a fight about it, and Wendell would just end up nicking it out of his wallet later. It was obvious that he was in awe of Wendell's prowess with women.

"Here, go buy yourself a good drink. Make sure it's one you really like, because it's the last one you're ever going to have if you are going to a formal tea with the Robards family. And I'm assuming it's a formal tea because I can't picture them having any other kind."

Yup, he was going to start having to give out lessons to his less gifted friends for a small nominal fee. Why within the month all of his friends would be sporting their own Brunette hottie! He would give Jasper a discount for being so sport- Wait...what?

"What are you going on about? Their tea extra strong or something?" He asked confused.

Why was Jasper suddenly looking so serious and acting like Wendell was happily walking into some sort of death trap. I mean really it was only tea with her mum. He had tea with his grandmum all the time when he was younger. It was rather boring sitting there listening to her blather on about the latest knitting pattern she had learned but not exactly terrifying. It couldn't be that much different, tea was tea after all. Though he figured that the Robard's teacups probably weren't chipped with peeling blue flowers on the sides.

"What are you going on about? Their tea extra strong or something?"

Jasper looked at Wendell with the sort of patronizing expression usually reserved for very small and simple children. While he probably wouldn't have gone to Wendell with a question about, say, quantum mechanics, he'd always considered his friend one of the more street smart people he knew. Which was why he was especially confused about Wendell's nonchalance in this situation. It was as though Jasper had said, "Wendell, go throw yourself in front of a bus," and Wendell had replied, "Right, okay!"

He leaned forward on the counter and put an appropriate expression on his face, one which communicated the imminence of Wendell's demise at the hands of Mrs. Robards.

"This isn't going to be like having tea with your Nan while you watch East Enders and eat Jaffa cakes. This is the Robards. Tea is serious business. You'll be judged on how you eat your petit fours. Have you ever even seen sugar tongs, Wendell?"

He paused and flipped through his collected knowledge about formal teas, which was startlingly broad. Jasper wasn't sure when he'd learned how to appropriately pour for guests, or when it was proper to take another finger sandwich, or how much lemon you could have in one cup, but he knew loads of things about tea. Which the Robards would know as well. Wendell, unfortunately, was not so well versed in arcane high society information.

He decided he'd have to start with the basics and work his way up. Wendell wasn't ready for the finer points of napkin arrangement yet.

"Okay, first off, what are you wearing? Is it going to be a full service? How many courses? Weekend or weekday?"

"This isn't going to be like having tea with your Nan while you watch East Enders and eat Jaffa cakes. This is the Robards. Tea is serious business. You'll be judged on how you eat your petit fours. Have you ever even seen sugar tongs, Wendell?"

Wendell stared at him blankly, confusion evident on every inch of his features. He thought he had seen the worst of pureblood society at the party the other evening. Clearly, he had been mistaken. He recalled Sofia's offer to make his excuses from coming to tea, and he was beginning to think that maybe she had the right idea. I mean honestly what was a pet-it four?

"Okay, first off, what are you wearing? Is it going to be a full service? How many courses? Weekend or weekday?"

More blank stares.

"It's next Saturday. I'm wearing clothes, preferably clean ones. And I have no idea about the rest of it. Though for the record I have seen sugar tongs. I used to use them to fling food at Rebecca and Lizzie down the table. Though I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess Mrs. Robards might not appreciate that?"

Why was he getting the impression that his pleasant afternoon was quickly evaporating before his eyes. Certainly, the Robards couldn't be that terrifying.

Wait...what was he thinking. They were responsible for raising Sofia. He was officially doomed. The panic that inevitably follows a realization of this kind set in.

"Jasper, you've got to help me! I never had to learn this nonsense as a kid. It could completely blow my cover!"

And Sofia will definately be pissed if I embarress her in front of the rest of her family...

Wendell continued, for a moment, to be inexcusably glib in the face of his own severe mauling at the hands of a socialite. Then, finally, his face changed to the appropriate rictus of fear. Jasper breathed a sigh of relief. The first step was admitting you had a problem, after all.

Jasper, you've got to help me! I never had to learn this nonsense as a kid. It could completely blow my cover!

He had to give Wendell credit. Once he grasped the imminent danger in a situation, he was quick to act. He had once saved Jasper from the moldy clutches of Filch at Hogwarts with a well-placed Smokescreen Spell while Jasper was still paralyzed with fear, wondering how exactly Filch was going to prepare him as a meal for his cat. He'd been less quick on his feet during the jewel trader debacle; luckily Apollo was well-versed in fending off rapists...for reasons Jasper wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.

Jasper stood and came around the counter, flipping the sign in the window to "Out to Lunch." He headed for the stairs, gesturing that Wendell should follow.

"I don't know why you agreed to this. Couldn't you have just asked her to dinner without her insane family or something? An activity with a lower potential for being bludgeoned with a teapot?"

He set the kettle boiling in the kitchen and rummaged through his cupboards, finally coming up with a silver tea service that had come in with a shipment of emeralds from somewhere in China last summer. Like the coffin, he hadn't thought he'd ever need to use it until Wendell had decided to become Batman.

"Come on, I'm giving you a crash course. I've already had to arrange one funeral for you, I refuse to do another when you're AK'd by Grandma Robards because you pour your milk the wrong way."

Wendell watched with panicked interest as Jasper began pulling all sorts of nonsense out of his kitchen cupboards. This was most definately not like tea with your Gran. There were some things that he recognized: the tea pot, the cups and saucers, and the weird mini-pitcher thing that you put milk in. However, there are also a rather lot of things that he didn't recognize.

He sat down at the table as Jasper started boil water for the tea. His first real lesson in ettiquette was about to begin. As a young boy who thought that the use of a napkin was a silly waste of time when his sleeve was so handy, he could never have imagined that he would need to know the proper method to drink tea. Oh how far he had come, in order to impress a girl! He watched the teapot slowly begin to hiss.

"So these Robards, what do you know about them? People are either jabbing each other's eyes out to meet them, or scared to death of them."

Jasper was a curious sort of fellow, he was born and raised into the tight circle of high-society purebloods. He could scrape and bow with the worst of them, but underneath the shiny, snobby mask that he donned for polite society there was Jasper the criminal. Jasper the criminal was the one who transfigured worthless rocks to look like diamonds, emeralds and rubies. He was also the one who Wendell enjoyed having drinks with and plotting money making schemes. He was a generally good guy, if slightly vain and ego-centric. And in situations such as the one Wendell found himself currently in, he was exceedingly useful.

Wendell sat down at the table, making his first mistake by not waiting to be invited to sit, or for the other guests (or hypothetical guests) to be seated as well. Actually, his first mistake had been wearing that shirt to tea; they were going to need to have a serious discussion about what colors were appropriate for teatime before he left. Jasper supposed you got a bit more leeway in dressing when you were Christian Bale, but he didn't think the Robards would be too impressed by Wendell's fine Method work in The Machinist enough to forgive him wearing the wrong sort of knot in his tie.

So these Robards, what do you know about them? People are either jabbing each other's eyes out to meet them, or scared to death of them.

Jasper replied as he Levitated various utensils onto the table and took the teapot off the stove.

"People are 'jabbing their eyes out to meet them' because they're one of the purest Pureblood families in England. For the record, you're going to want to avoid mentions of eye-jabbing and other disgusting activities when you're at tea."

He put the teapot down and dug through a cabinet, finding a box of pop-tarts that Cal had stealthily disguised as baking soda. Actually, it wasn't an especially clever disguise, since the last time Jasper had bought baking soda (or been aware that it existed) was never. He pulled a few out and Transfigured them into tiny, crustless sandwiches. Arrayed them on a plate and brought them over as he continued.

"I don't know that much about them, unfortunately. They're probably the most law-abiding people in Britain, Aurors the whole lot of them, they've probably got more power at the Ministry than any other family." He checked on the tea, still need a few minutes of steeping. "Just the sort of person a criminal who's faked his own death wants to be spending time with, Wen. They're not the suspicious sort at all. Or the mental sort."

He flashed Wendell a grin. Poor bloke, no idea what he was getting into. Jasper cast back to the last time he'd had formal tea with someone; it had been ages. However, his capacity for learning the finer points of etiquette and tradition was fairly remarkable. He sat and looked at Wendell seriously. Wendell was studying one of the three spoons next to his plate with growing and appropriate concern.

"Okay, right, lesson one. If I had a butler, which the Robards probably will, he would unfold your napkin for you. When you're having your tea poured, you should put this spoon-" he raised the appropriate one to demonstrate- "across the top of your saucer when you've got enough tea. It's the third one in on your left. The right one is for eating the trifle course. You should use the second one on the left for stirring, but you're also going to need the tiny fork thing if you want lemon. When you're stirring--"

He could see Wendell's eyes glazing over already. They hadn't even gotten to the part about finger sandwiches yet, this was going to be a long teatime. He had a sudden and worrisome image of Wendell, surrounded by fifteen scowling Robards, as he used the wrong knife to put jam on a scone.

"How much of her family is going to be there, anyhow?"

"Well, you know me. Always enjoy a good challenge!" He replied cheekily. "Besides, it's not as if any of them have an excuse to suspect me of being an escaped convict who faked his own death! That'd just be strange."

However, Jasper did not seem particularly amused by his nonchalance over the whole matter. And as Wendell looked down at the large display of cutlery placed in front of him, he once more grew slightly concerned. Why on earth did anyone actually need this many forks? It was overkill. He was fairly certain that he could take one bite, sit the fork down and grab another one making it the whole way through a meal without every having used the same fork twice.

Jasper went onto begin explaining the use of each of the instruments before him in rapid succession. Wendell tried to keep up with the explanations, he really did, but it was all so tedious and there was so much of it that he quickly found himself spacing out. He was jolted out of his random musings (imagining all the posh Robards having a dart competition with their silverware) by Jasper's questions.

"How much of her family is going to be there, anyhow?"

"Her mother and brothers obviously, and I believe a few guests. I think she said no more than ten or fifteen?" Jasper's face it seemed was taking on a perpetually worried expression.

"Oh don't give me that look like you're never going to see me again! Honestly, just as long as I get the basics, I can just copy off of everyone else. I'm supposed to be an American anyway, remember? They can't possibly have unnaturally high expectations for my manners. And my natural charm will take care of the rest!" He declared confidently. Well...semi-confidently.

"What's the worst that could happen, really? They don't invite me back to tea? It's not like I'm unused to being snubbed by pureblood society." He said the last part with a bit of a scowl. It always rubbed him the wrong way when the other purebloods tried snubbing him because of his family.

Wendell, having managed to choose a cucumber sandwich from the wrong tier of the tray, and before he'd washed his hands, was chattering on gleefully as though nothing could possibly go wrong Jasper had just noticed that he'd managed to knock his napkin to the floor. As he recalled, this was grounds for drawing and quartering in the Robards household.

Oh don't give me that look like you're never going to see me again! Honestly, just as long as I get the basics, I can just copy off of everyone else. I'm supposed to be an American anyway, remember? They can't possibly have unnaturally high expectations for my manners. And my natural charm will take care of the rest!

Jasper considered this for a moment. Wendell did have a point. The Batman getup gave him a certain advantage over most people. One that Jasper could appreciate well because he used similar tactics to slide by in uncomfortable situations. A well cut suit and a good smile could get you out of most situations admirably.

"Well, the whole Bale thing will put one over on the female guests, but you might have more of a challenge with the male Robards. Which is probably true whether or not you're Batman."

Wendell prattled on with disturbing nonchalance. He really couldn't grasp the seriousness of this scenario.

What's the worst that could happen, really? They don't invite me back to tea? It's not like I'm unused to being snubbed by pureblood society.

Wendell prodded his petit four moodily with the last phrase. Jasper sometimes forgot the way his friend felt about the upper echelons of pureblood society. He suddenly felt a bit guilty that he was going so hard line with Wen on the whole tea thing, but it was important if he wanted to make a good impression on that Robards woman he seemed so keen on. Jasper didn't know what he saw in her, she was pretty but clearly a bit mad. However, he was acutely aware that he had little room for judgement considering his preference for a certain mad scientist. At any rate, he spoke a bit more gently when he resumed.

"Be careful, it's not so much that you'll show a lack of manners, but a distinct possession of improper British manners that don't match up with being American. You'll blow your cover." He paused to think of what other fine points of tea time Wendell would need to know. "Plus you'll make a bad impression with Sofia." He fluttered his eyelashes ridiculously when he mentioned her name.

"So, anyhow, you're going to need to know about how to spread jam..."

Wendell nodded still rather morosely, but nevertheless seeing the sense in Jasper's words. So when he continued on teaching (or rather reteaching) Wendell to go through complex rituals to complete the most mundane tasks, Wendell listened without complaint.

An hour and a half passed by. And during that time Wendell learned more rules of etiquette than he had ever before in his life. He was able to greet and eat without making too many glaring errors. What he lacked in the finer points, he made up for by distracting his neighbors with charming smiles and conversation. Jasper approved conversation that is. This meaning nothing: disgusting, political, religious, or at all related to matrimony. (He wasn't quite sure the reasoning behind the last one but Jasper seemed quite adament that he should steer as far clear of that topic as humanly possible.)

By the end of the lesson it was clear that Wendell would never win the award for most distinguished guest. But hopefully, he could manage to make it through tea without causing any monumental disasters. His best hope was to remain as unobtrusive as possible, and smile politely while he buttered his scone with the wrong the knife.

"So what do you think? Will they love me? Or spear me through with one of the pastry forks?" He asked when Jasper finally decided that Wendell was as ready as he was ever going to be.