Nobody Move, Nobody Gets Hurt!
Or
Sweet Talk
It was an appropriately dark and stormy night, for the sort of misdeeds that Wendell was prepared to get up to that evening. It set the mood in the sort of way a cool and clear night never quite could, though it did make it a rather more uncomfortable experience. But he had suffered through worse weather on more than one occasion and wouldn’t complain about it now. At twenty-two he considered himself at the top of his game, the youngest/quickest/slickest criminal this side of London and he certainly had an ego to match and outstrip his skills. Tonight’s activities were nothing out of the ordinary for him. One of his many associates was having him pick up a parcel of dubious legality recently arrived from Uzbekistan and deliver it to a manor house somewhere in the south of Kent. All very cut and dry, and not very exciting through really quite wet because of the aforementioned storm and the fact that he was waiting to pick up the parcel in a damp warehouse by the east London docks.
The sound of a creaky floorboard was what first alerted him to the presence of another. It was far too heavy to have been caused by one of the many rodents that otherwise frequented the dreary building. He glanced back over his shoulder in the direction of the creak; it was difficult not to be just a little paranoid in such inhospitable surroundings. Besides, one never knew when a simple courier might decide that it’d be more profitable to do in the middleman and make the delivery himself. The profit margin was greater that way. However, Wendell happened to know this particular courier by virtue of having worked with him a few times, and one of the things he had learned was that Albert (for that was his name) was a bit of a jokester.
“Now Albert, who do you think you’re dealing with? If you’re going to try and sneak up on me the least you could do is cast a Mufflato spell beforehand…”
He spun his wand in the direction of the noise and blasted the large crate that rested there into mulch. Behind it crouched a short man with mousey brown hair, and coke-bottle glasses holding a parcel in one hand and a rubber chicken in the other. Wendell rolled his eyes; Albert’s gags clearly had not matured since the last time they met.
“Damn Wendell, I think you gave me a splinter!” He whined in his nasally voice.
“Al, you’re holding a rubber chicken, a few splinters is the least of your problems. How are you ever going to get a girl if your sense of humor hasn’t advanced beyond the exploding rubber chicken gag?”
“I wasn’t going to explode it…I was going to engorge it and send it tromping in like this giant dinosaur thing I saw in a muggle moo-vie!” He replied with a flash of enthusiasm.
“Okay…that’s pretty funny actually.” Wendell was forced to agree. “But if we could get down to business, I’m going to catch pneumonia sitting around in this place.”
“Yeah, yeah. One cursed canary diamond, guaranteed to cause murder, mayhem and pestilence wherever it is worn.” He dumped his parcel into Wendell’s eagerly outstretched palm. “Make sure you don’t touch it. Your hand might fall off or something.”
Wendell nodded, and waved away Albert’s warning, as if he were some sort of newbie who had never transported a cursed object before.“I’ve got it all under con-“ But he was interrupted by another voice, a lovely melodious one that most certainly did not belong to Albert.
“Actually you don’t.” From the shadowy recesses of the warehouse stepped a willowy brunette, with her wand outstretched and a stern expression on her otherwise pretty features. “You’re under arrest for the illegal importation and possession of cursed goods. Drop your wands and put your hands where I can see them!” She demanded.
Albert dropped his rubber chicken with a frightened squeak. He was always a bit of pansy, and worthless in tense situations. Wendell shot him and admonishing glare, there was no use getting so worked up about it, it was just an auror after all. Not a legion of them, or even a small posse. Just one. And a girl at that. A hot girl. But still a girl.
“Well, well who do we have here?” Wendell asked turning back to the woman in black with a winning grin. “I don’t believe we’ve met, you must be new.”
He cocked his head to the side, giving her a long lascivious once over. “I must say, you’re a definite improvement over Weasley. No question why Potter hired you.”
“Are you kidding me? Just drop your wand!” Even in the dark he could tell that her cheeks had turned a bright shade of red.
“I would never joke about such a thing fair maiden of my heart, only you seem to be confused – once my wand goes up it doesn’t go back down. Catch my drift?”
Her cheeks seemed to be glowing in the darkness now, Wendell was enchanted with the blushing Auror, this could be his big chance at getting a date with one of Potter’s dangerously beautiful brunettes! “Who are you?” She demanded.
“Why your soul mate of course!”
“Well then soul mate, what does your mother call you?”
“Nothing such delicate ears could stand hearing my love!”
“Right… What should I call you when I am screaming your name in bed then?” She asked dryly.
Wendell’s eyes lit up, he was most definitely in lust! This was the one he could use to finally break the bet on, he was sure of it! And they were already having bedroom chats! “Wendell – but God would work if you are particularly pleased with my performance.”
She gave a delicate cough that closely resembled a giggle, as she managed to hold back an eye roll or five, recognition occurring instantly. “When we last met Mr. Darrow I don’t recall you having such a high opinion of me.”
“We’ve met before? I think I would remember.” He asked, trying to mentally go through every leggy brunette he had ever hit on. The list was too extensive and he gave up almost instantaneously.
“You would remember the black eye you walked away with. Does the name Sofia Robards sound at all familiar?”
“Sofia Robards, Sofia Robards, Sofia… Robards… Robards? ROBARDS!?! Not Ed’s plain little sister? The one that looked like a boy?”
“The one that punched you the last time you said that, you mean?”
“WOW! Time has been good to you? How about we go get a drink and
catch up?” He shot her the most charming grin he had in his arsenal of charming smiles. He had been perfecting it since the tender age of two and it was guaranteed to charm the pants off of any girl in a two kilometer radius, figuratively
and literally.
“Right, enough of this. You’re coming with me!” She said, determinedly ignoring the oh so charming smile.
“I’m not that easy Miss Robards!” He cried with mock indignation.
“Wh- You—What’s wrong with you?” She sputtered out feeling much more flustered than she approved of.
“I’ve been blinded by your iridescent beauty!” He exclaimed clasping a hand to his heart. “Before this moment my life had no meaning, I was like the walking dead. Devoid of hope or love! But you have changed all that my dearest Sofia.”
She gave him a smile that was clearly an attempt to humor him. “Changed enough to hand over your wand and help me advance my career sort of change?”
He gave out a laugh. “ Not quite, but changed enough to offer you a little advice.”
In the dark an eyebrow was raised. “Oh really?” She asked before catching sight of Albert making a fleeting attempt at escape. “One moment.” Ropes instantly bound the other man. “As you were saying Darrow?”
“Not bad Robards but you see, things usually go like this. You arrive and valiantly claim you are here to take me in, we exchange a few cheap shots maybe numbers, you attempt to capture me but fail, in which you fall onto the ground in a breathless heap – in awe of my masculinity and overall potent sexual allure. To make a long story short in about five minutes time I will be leaving you breathless so why don’t you make it easy on the both of us and surrender now, yeah?”
“In your dreams, Darrow!”
“That’s a given,” he replied cheekily. Her wand hand twitched up from its relaxed position to train in on Wendell. “Well—I hate to cut this meeting short but I’ve got some previous engagements I simply can’t break.” He tucked the cursed diamond securely into his inner jacket pocket and flipped out his own wand. “If you’ll excuse me—“ The warehouse had all sorts of protective spells on it, to make sure there weren’t any unannounced arrivals. However, it also had the unfortunate side affect of making it impossible to apparate out. He would need to make it to the door to do that. He strode towards the exit and subsequently freedom with a brief wave goodbye at Miss Sofia Robards, stepping over Albert on his way. It was too bad, the guy was always good for a laugh, but it’s every man for himself in these situations. He had only made it about two steps beyond Albert’s prostrate form when he felt the tell tale whoosh of a spell flying only inches past his face before exploding on a stack of crates behind him. In another instant he spun around with a shield charm at the ready.
“Now really, I know you can’t bare to see me leave but that’s hardly polite Miss Robards!” He exclaimed. Her response, predictably enough was another hex straight at his middle. It was a powerful one, and though his shield charm held, the force of it still sent him skidding a few feet backwards.
“How’s that for polite?” She grumbled.
“You hit pretty hard,” he conceded. “…for a girl.”
She sent another three bursts of angry red light after him for that dashing comment. He blocked the first, dodged the second, but the third grazed his shoulder sending him careening into the wall of crates behind. Stunned, but undeterred he fired back with a volley of his own. Nothing terribly gruesome just enough to knock her off her guard, he wouldn’t want to mar that pretty face after all, Wendell Darrow ever the gentleman. In a mirror replay of his own onslaught she blocked or dodged all of them but one, a well-placed stunning spell that left her frozen in place, at least for the moment. He used the time to brush himself off and make his way once more towards the door. He was never one to hit you while your down…unless you really deserved it. He was within a few yards of the door when he heard the sound of her whipping around; damn, she had overcome that spell much faster than he anticipated! He spun around with a well-timed “PROTEGO” that sent her jinx bouncing off a nearby wall.
“You’ll have to wake up earlier than that to get the drop on me Sofia.” He taunted.
She responded with an unhappy grumble, that he couldn’t quite make out but assumed was less than complementary. Another few hexes were sent in his direction, which miraculously managed to miss their target. Luck was apparently on young Mr. Darrow’s side as a few of them were quite nasty. He backed quickly towards the door with a shield charm in place. In a few moments he felt the breeze on his back as he took the last step out of the warehouse and into the darkness, where the rain had ceased since his entrance earlier that evening.
“Adieu, fair maiden!” He called back at her. Her response was another beam of light, which caught him in the left elbow with a sickening crunch. He could already tell it was broken for sure. He didn’t bother to cut off a rather unhappy expletive at her expense nor the low snarl of “Damn Robards wench!” before he apparated away into the night.
***LATER at the MINISTRY***
“Wow, she works fast!”
“Looks like he’s got a new favorite.”
“Poor Jenny, it took her
weeks to get flowers!”
The poorly concealed whispers followed Sofia from the apparition point, across the office to the corner where her small desk sat unobtrusively. Well, it normally sat there unobtrusively today there was a cluster of people gathered around it.
“Excuse me, what’s going on?” Sofia asked feeling rather worn out after her unusual battle with the enigmatic Darrow. The half circle opened to reveal Will Channing next to a large blue vase overflowing with giant, yellow sunflowers. Will nodded to her, somewhat apologetically; plucked a card out from within the overwhelming bouquet and to her horror began to read: