Cho Chang (formerchinadoll) wrote in after_the_bombs, @ 2011-10-29 23:27:00 |
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Tracey was in a fine foul mood. She had, to use a more delicate turn of phrase than was prevalent in the world she'd grown up in, an itch to scratch and definite lack of ways to deal with it. Terence was married having finally grown up enough to make going after the woman he loved a priority. Agravaine was pining for his little blonde Gryff whether he would admit it or not. And the cretins and bastards that played German officers to her Mata Hari did not actually, for the most part, get the pleasure of sleeping with her no matter what their altered memories might tell them. It was far easier to ransack a man's room for useful intelligence when he was locked in an extremely vivid fantasy involving her nubile body.
That was, frankly, the saving grace of her assignment. She may have had to endure being groped and kissed by men she loathed but at least she only rarely had to fuck them.
Especially as there was only one man that she was even remotely interested in in a carnal fashion in recent months. Even if said man was oblivious to every opening she left and every hint she dropped.
It was beyond frustrating physically and mentally and every other way.
Damn Callen Macdougal anyway.
Calling for her dog who had been innocently sleeping, Tracey headed out to walk off her antsy feelings. Even if it was likely a literal exercise in frustration. Jock and his owner traveled the length of Diagon twice before Tracey turned onto Knockturn, suddenly intent on going to bother Audrey and Will.
Unfortunately, the wrong William was waiting for her. She'd been so deep in thought that she'd not even noticed her cousin standing in the entrance to one of the narrow offshoot alleys until Jock suddenly bristled and started growling.
“Nice mutt, Broomhilda,” William drawled. He was tall and as handsome as ever in his rough way. “Come here. I need a word.”
Tracey stiffened involuntarily at the once-loved nickname. If there was one person she could do without seeing, it was William Davis. But still she forced herself to relax outwardly as she moved toward him. He was family and she knew he wouldn't be here if he didn't think it to be important. He hated being in the Wizarding World as every common everyday sight in it reminded him that she had the one thing that he could never have – Magic.
“What is it, William?” she asked evenly. Jock was pressed against her leg and he never stopped growling that low, menacing growl.
“It's always straight to the point with you. Haven't you learned the fine art of small talk yet, Hildy?” he said lightly, using his height and presence to back her farther and farther into the narrow alleyway. “I thought your fine lady camouflage was better than that.”
Tracey raised her chin, refusing to show how uncomfortable she was with the conversation and the company. “Small talk has little appeal at the moment, thank you,” she said primly. Something ugly flaired in William's eyes at her cheek and she braced herself for the blow she knew was coming.
But then Jock lunged at her cousin causing the man to stumble backwards in automatic reaction. Tracey had to yank the puppy back sharply with his lead to pull him out of the range of William's retaliatory kick. When the squib came snarling after her dog, she flung herself against him. Digging her wand into his side just below his floating ribs, she said very evenly in echoingly empty tones, “new rule, William. You will not harm my dog. It should be easy enough to remember. No incest, no harming the dog, or Unbreakable Vow or no Unbreakable Vow, I will end you before the magic kills me.” She looked up into eyes the exact same shade of blue as her own. “I did extremely well in my Dark Arts Studies under the Death Eaters that ruled Hogwarts my final year. I assure you that the spell that I cast on you would not end quickly or cleanly.” They stared at each other until finally William took a single large step away from her.
“Whatever, Hildy,” William said, fussily straightening his clothes. “I came to tell you that the man who owns your parents' building has had an offer. That whole damned revitalization thing centered on Millennial Park seems to be actually moving forward. There's talk about tearing down the whole damned block to put in office buildings.” He grinned toothily. “And you know how well your mother tolerates change.” He paused to let the image of Evangeline Davis being forced to move out of the flat that had been her entire world for two decades materialize. “I can keep him from accepting that offer, but it's going to cost you, Broomhilda. Dearly.”
Tracey felt her heart sink right down to her toes. This was something that she had not anticipated at all. Her mother wasn't particularly stable to begin with and the thought of uprooting her made Tracey feel physically ill. But she was going to have to force the issue. She knew that immediately because she knew that her father would not and whatever, likely literal, arm twisting that William was planning would not work for long if only because she did not have the funds necessary to pay her cousin the amount of gold she could see him tallying up in his mind. Not on top of the money she was already paying him to keep him from plastering her roots all over the Daily Prophet.
What was she going to do? How much more was she supposed to have to deal with? Wasn't playing Ministry spy and a grueling apprenticeship enough? Now she was going to have to face her parents because family always, always came first.
“I'll be in touch again,” William said as he sauntered off, “Soon.”
Tracey didn't bother to answer him. She just stood there until Jock's whining and tugging managed to pull her out of her rapidly spiraling thoughts long enough for her to scoop up her dog and Apparate back to her tiny flat. She crawled into her bed and clutched her pillow to her chest as Jock lay across the threshold to her closet of a bedroom protectively.
Sweet Salazar, why wouldn't Callen sleep with her so that she could have an excuse to hide in his bed for a while?